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.

225. Run to the Hills

Chapter CCXXV: Run to the Hills

November 14, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/three days later

Torkham, Pakistan, Earth, Sol System

---

"Run for your life."

---

I tossed the ball up and then moved my hand to catch it before it hit my face. It was a disappointing throw, the last several ones I had barely had to move my hand. It was all in the wrist. The red ball looked old-fashioned. It had a good feel to it, nice and hard. I had never before in my life seen a cricket ball or even heard the word cricket in anything that wasn't related to the insect. It was an interesting sport, even if I had absolutely no idea how it was played.

A loud clack rung outside as Pavel or Caboose hit the other cricket ball with a wide bat that they had found.

"That is not how you play it!" Grass shouted. "I told you!"

"Shut up, woman!" Pavel roared, drawing laughter from men known and unknown.

I chuckled a little bit myself, although the cinder blocks that surrounded me didn't let me see. This was an old building, perhaps as old as two hundred years. It had been abandoned for at least half that. It was basically four walls with half as many windows and a door. Not to say that there was any actual windows or doors instead of a hole where they should've been. A farmer had probably built it and then realized he didn't really need this tiny shack for anything special.

It was only a minute away from the rest of the town and then another couple of minutes until we reached the highway. There was nothing special about this place except that it was next to a football field. Soccer, if you will.

I tossed the ball up one more time, but Miranda caught it as it was coming down.

"What?" I asked.

"They found a ball," she said.

I smiled and got up. It was a little bit chilly, even with the heavy sweater that we had been issued. The black fatigues weren't particularly thick, but they did more than fine to help me against the cold. It was the boots that I was a bit uncomfortable with. They weren't bad boots, but with the Covenant moving closer with every passing hour I would've preferred to have my armored boots on instead of a more traditional pair of regular boots. It was something that I had gotten used to over the past two days, but two days couldn't beat decades of experience.

The day was cold outside, at least for this time of the year. It shouldn't have been cold enough to need a sweater to be comfortable. Some of the local troops said that it was never this cold this time of the year, but the amount of dust put up in the atmosphere was already blocking the solar rays and cooling the global temperatures significantly. This would be an ecological catastrophe.

"There," Miranda pointed. "I don't know how they found it."

"Well, we need something to kill some time," I told her.

"Alright!" the man with the ball was yelling. "I need twenty-two men split into two teams. Standard rules for football. You should know this by now!"

"Helljumpers against Pakistan!" someone suggested.

Cheers received the suggestion.

"Wait, what about regular Marines?" someone asked.

"You can play the winner," the man with the ball replied. "Alright, hurry up!"

I bumped my way into the ODST team. I did have the highest rank here. Pavel looked at Caboose, who shook his head and sat down the side of the field, waiting for the game to start. I ended up on a team with Miranda, Grass, and Pavel as well as a bunch of ODSTs from the 19th. There was some discussion about who should play what and my status as ranking officer immediately disappeared. I did, however, have some experience playing football. It was the most popular sport in the universe and Jericho-VII was no exception, I had grown up playing in the street and occasionally shooting at an impromptu goal while my uncle lazily acted as a goalkeeper. Hell, I had even been on the high school team.

One guy kept trying to make us get a complicated system, but in the end we settled for four defenders, three centers, and three forwards. It was basically an elementary school offensive system, but it was enough that a bunch of untrained men could handle it without too much trouble. I ended up as a left center and cracked my neck as we waited for the game to start.

"All right! Listen up! You know the rules of the game. Slide tackles and actual tackles are encouraged, but don't lose your calm, will you? First goal wins!"

Then began the greatest football game of my entire life. As Helljumpers we obviously began with a very aggressive approach, pushing forward and playing a physical game, the Pakistani soldiers complained about the roughness that we played with, but several shrugs form the ref later they were hitting us equally as hard. They were being smarter about it, too. I almost fell flat on my face when two men slammed into either side of me at the same time, making me lose control of the ball. Pavel was close by and slid in front of the ball. He missed, but he very cheekily raised his foot in order to trip the Pakistani man.

Nobody whistled and the game went on. The other Pakistani ran forward before slowing down and passing the ball into the box, hoping for one of his teammates to hit it into the goal. My breath caught when I saw a tall man drive a powerful header into the net, but Grass easily caught it with one hand and gave a taunting smile.

"Hey, no fair! She has a prosthetic hand!"

"Normally that'd be a handicap!" one of our ODST teammates shouted back.

She kicked the ball hard into the midfield and a man in a black shirt put it down with his chest and then passed it to Pavel who in turn passed it back to another man. I called for the ball and got a long pass that I struggled to control for a little bit before I made use of my great speed and stretched the field on the left side of the field. Four other men joined me as I moved and began positioning themselves near the center of the box.

I struggled with myself a little bit. Back in the day I had given several assists into the box, nothing too great, but I hadn't done it in long enough that I didn't want to risk doing it now. I sighed and went for it, hitting a nice little volley into the box. It fell short, but the bounce positioned it close to one of my teammates, who slammed it left-footed into the crossbeam through two defenders. The ball bounced back and landed at the feet of a Paki defender and they had control of the ball once again.

I smiled. I was enjoying this.

Miranda began running forward and intercepted a pass, but a large man slammed into her from the side and stole back the ball. There were some calls of complaint, but those stopped when Pavel and another Helljumper hit the man with a tackle and slide tackle respectively, sending him face first into the grass. I would've enjoyed being closer to hear the noise that his face made with the impact.

We managed to get two more attempts on goal, but the Pakistani keeper knew his business. He did block one of the two shots with his face rather than his hands, but a block is a block.

The game went on; I missed an attempt on the goal and managed to stay in the midst of the action. However, I could tell that the Pakis were better as a team than we were, often bypassing our physical superiority with honed skills. Football was certainly a game of athleticism, but you also needed to know how to kick the ball straight. It was only a matter of time until they scored. I watched helplessly as a powerful shot flew at our goal. Grass jumped, stretching herself and blocking it. The ball was deflected and bounced against the cross beam, lobbing itself high up and coming back down. Right at the feet of the man that had shot it in the first place. The second shot wasn't a miss.

There was a collective groan coming from the ODST team.

"All right, Marines! We're up!" a man shouted and a swarm of green-clad men and women flooded the field as we lazily moved out.

"Good effort!" Miri said happily. "We'll get them next time!"

I smiled a little bit, rolling my sweater sleeves up before finally deciding to simply remove it. The cool air was comfortable against my sweaty shirt and it felt relaxing. I moved back towards the little abandoned house and grabbed my canteen before heading back outside to watch the game. Sadly, the Marines were a lot better than we were. This was going to be a good game.

"Lieutenant Castillo? Is there a Lieutenant Castillo here?"

"That's me," I said. "What do you want, Private?"

"Here, sir. This is for you."

The man handed me a datapad which I promptly took. I looked back at him and thanked him as he left back towards the town. I sat down and opened the datapad. The screen showed me a list of messages and emails that I had gotten before the last time I checked. There were some bank statements, PSAs, a few unread messages from AAG and Captain Flatt.

Shit, Captain Flatt! I had forgotten all about her.

The most recent message was from the woman herself. God, I missed her. She was the best liaison to Command that I had ever had. She was damn good at getting us the support we needed and despite her occasional bitchiness cared for our team.

Frank,

I'm offended you haven't tried to communicate with me since I got here.

It came to my attention that you are looking for a particular ship that evacuated from Reach and haven't been able to find it yet. I've put a couple of men on the task, but there are other far more important matters than that. Only thing we've found so far is that the ship made it into this system, but I suspect you already know that. I will keep you updated.

I'm glad to know you're alive at least. I'd appreciate a response.

Flatt

I went over the letter twice before drafting a quick reply.

Sorry, Cap, I've been busy. I don't know what you've heard since we last talked, but Longworth, Agnarsson, Avninder, and Krieger are dead. It was a long week. There's only five of us left now. I appreciate the help, please let me know if you find anything about that ship. Pavel's family was aboard as well.

I hope you're doing fine. I think I owe you a couple of drinks.

It was fairly decent. I pressed send.

I went over some of the bank statements telling me how much money I had and whether or not the interests had changed and whatnot. I always surprised myself a little bit when I went over my savings. I knew that I was rich. I had shitloads of combat pay, I got bonuses for working in Special Forces, I got my bonuses from the 19th, AAG, and UNSC Marine Corps all at once. I also had some investments in weapons manufacturers that kept getting more and more valuable. Not to mention the fact that I never had a home of my own so I never paid for that. I was more well off than any low-rank officer had any right to be. Perhaps I should've blown all my money on hookers and blow before it came to the end of the world.

I saw an email, tagged two days ago. It was from a blocked address.

Lieutenant Castillo,

I went through a lot of trouble to get your address. This would've been a lot easier if the UNSC didn't insist on the archaic tradition of delivering deceased notices in a physical form. I have to say, the letter you wrote about my daughter was very touching. It almost had me believing that it didn't come from a form letter. I know that Natasha was a bit of a handful, but she spoke of the members of her unit with the utmost respect, something that apparently I never really did earn in her eyes. What surprised me the most, however, was the admiration with which she spoke about her squad leader. I think she might've had a small crush on you.

Well, it's of no importance, not now that she's gone at least. She might've been a huge bitch, but she was my daughter and I take full responsibility for the way I raised her. Or rather the lack thereof. I didn't interact with her much after she joined the Navy, but she was somewhat changed after she joined your outfit. She seemed happier, calmer somewhat. I take a small comfort in the knowledge that she died surrounded by people that she cared about and that cared about her. I don't know if she really did die in her sleep or if the truth is more violent, but she knew what she signed up for.

What I'm getting at, Lieutenant, is a thank you. A thank you for watching after my daughter and for helping her become a better human being. God knows that she needed some help with that and I wasn't the one to give her that.

Now you must know or suspect that I am a man with plenty of means and assets. If you ever get tired of fighting in this war or if we somehow manage to end this without being burned to hell, feel free to contact me for anything that you need. It is the least that I can offer you. Let me know if you need anything right now, if not, I'll gladly wait.

Heinrich Krieger

This one prompted a double eyebrow raise. Her father was a trillionaire. Having a man like him on my side would be incredibly helpful under any circumstances whatsoever. That man could buy himself a small country. Or a large one if he wanted to. Hell, the man probably owned several asteroids and maybe even a small moon. I was surprised there wasn't more information about him floating out there, but he was very private for a man this rich. He was probably balls deep in several illegal ventures if you ask me.

Damn. Well, it was nice to know that someone had appreciated me, even if it was Lady.

I missed her sorry ass. I missed her bitching and her frowning and the fact that she fully believed that she was better than everyone on the team. It was a shame that we hadn't had access to any piece of medical equipment after she hurt her head. We could've done something about it and maybe she would be here playing football with us and her father wouldn't feel the need to put his considerable assets at my disposition.

An ODST sat next to me and groaned. He had his combat belt on and on the belt was an axe.

"Nice piece," I said. "Can I see it?"

"Sure," he replied, voice deep as thunder.

It was heavy, heavier than I would've expected it. There must've been some sort of weight on the head of the little axe. It was little only relatively. The handle was about the length of my forearm, a little bit thicker than a broomstick and with a worn grip near the bottom. The grip became flat near the top and merged with the head. It was, of course, all black except for a few painted bible verses.

"I never thanked you for covering my ass back there," I told the man. "I would've lost my hand."

"Or your head," he said.

I shook the very appendage he talked about. "Nah, just my hand. The brute was dead."

"You sound confident."

I shrugged. "What's your name?"

"Grayson Young, Corporal."

"Pleasure, Corporal Young."

"Where are you from, Lieutenant? I know that Lieutenant Tarkov is from Reach, most of my friends are from there, too, but you don't have the accent."

"I was born in Mexico City," I said, leaning back on the soft grass.

"Billings."

"Montana or Luna?"

"Montana," he said. "Born and raised."

I twirled the tomahawk a few times. The heaviness of the axe head was very different from what I was used to with my knives. It wasn't a particularly heavy implement; it just had a different weight distribution. I would've loved to throw this little puppy around. It probably would have much more killing power than my own knives. I was at one knife at the moment; I needed to get replacements for the other two.

I clenched my fist tightly. Those two knives had been with me for a long time, I didn't like them being gone.

"El-tee said that my squad might be working in tandem with yours during the following weeks, just came to introduce myself."

"Tarkov didn't mention anything to me," I said.

"It's tentative."

"Well, pleasure," I told him. "If you can keep saving my men or me you'll be more than a pleasure to work with."

"I'll do my best, sir."

I didn't have to dismiss him. He simply grabbed his axe as I offered it to him and walked away. There was something weird about the way he walked. He was tense, as if he was expecting someone to jump him at the very moment. It was subtle, but I had seen enough men with trauma to know that he was probably wrestling with some issues right now. Hell, I was the expert in that matter.

"Who's that?" Grass asked, coming to sit down next to me. "He's cute."

I scoffed.

"Oh, you know that I think you're more attractive," she said, putting her hand on the back of my head and scratching it lovingly.

I hated it when she did that. It felt too good.

"Grayson Young. His squad might be working with us."

"You don't see too many men with axes," Grass noted. "A bit unwieldy when you're not using them."

"Pros and cons," I said.

"He's the one that saved you, isn't he?"

I nodded.

"Then that's good enough for me. What's with the datapad?"

"Some personal messages," I said. "Flatt contacted me; she's trying to find Katie and Amber."

Her hand dropped at the mention of Katie. I didn't like what that implied. I didn't like it at all. The last thing I needed was another distraction and the distraction being Camilla Seppa made it all the more uncomfortable.

Her hand reached for the datapad, dispelling my fears and grabbing the device. She went through Flatt's email before handing it back.

"They're fine," she assured me. "It's just going to take a while to get this whole mess sorted out."

"I don't think I can lose more people," I told her. "And then there's Pavel's family. I don't know how he'll deal with that."

"Even if the worst happens you have us, we'll be here for whatever you need."

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "You and Grigori?"

"Me and Miranda," she said. "And Grigori too, if need be. You might not like each other much, but you know damn right that you care about him as much as he cares about you."

"Gay," I said.

She laughed. "You're not twelve."

I sighed and nodded slowly, looking at the grey sky. It wasn't cloudy, it was just grey. "How's your family?"

"They're fine. I've managed to keep in touch with them."

"The Covenant haven't hit the Scandinavian countries, right?"

"No, they're focusing mostly on Russia right now. They hit Moscow from the east for a change. The Urals are pretty much under their control."

"I almost want them to keep them for the duration of the winter, see how that works out for them."

"It's not working out for them well at all," Grass said. "You know how the Russians are. They've got some of the best armed forces in the universe. Hell, their domestic tanks are worth three Scorpions each."

"Yeah, those are true MBTs," I agreed. "They've always been good at making tanks, haven't they?"

"And at defeating invaders," Grass added. "We'll win this one. There's less than a fourth of the original Covenant fleet left here."

"Same for us," I reminded her.

She shrugged. "We have the ODPs, it's a standoff right now, but even with the enemy reinforcements I think we can manage to pull this one. Give it two years."

"That's a long time," I said.

"We've been fighting for all our lives," she reminded me. "Two years won't make much of a difference. Besides, we might break the Covenant here."

"Might, might not," I muttered. She sounded awful optimistic and I didn't want much of that rubbing on me. It might turn out that we'd lose this in a week and it would hit me that much harder. "Why were you complaining about him having an axe? You used to have a homemade machete, remember?"

Grass laughed. Melodiously. She could've been a freaking movie star, radio host, PhD, or anything she wanted and here she was, sitting next to me and fighting the good fight as a glorified ground pounder. And she was excellent at that, too.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, her voice suddenly softer.

"Where do you think we would be if there wasn't a war going on?" I asked her. "What would you be doing?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I was always very good at anything I tried."

"What do you like?"

She shrugged and leaned back in the grass with me. "I wanted to be a vet when I grew up."

I laughed. "You, a vet?"

"Hey, I like animals!"

"Yeah, it just seems so… basic."

"What do you mean?"

"I always pictured you as a scientist, you know?"

"Maybe," she admitted. "I like all that stuff. Besides, white lab coats look amazing on my frame."

I rolled my eyes. Anything looked amazing on her frame. We called her Grass because she had a great ass, but it was a tough competition with the rest of her body most of the time, not to mention that face.

"And you, Frank?" she asked.

"I would be in the ODST regardless," I said. "I might've made it to sergeant by this point."

"That, now that I can see," she admitted. "And if you didn't join the Armed Forces?"

"That's all there ever was for me, you know. Ever since I left this clump of rock for Jericho-VII it was all about the military. I like it that way. I don't have to think as much and my decisions are made for me most of the time."

"You're better than that, you know."

"Thanks."

There was some silence, both of us listening to the game more than watching it. There were cheers, jeers, laughter, and groans of pain. I loved the sound that the ball made when someone kicked it. It reminded me of my childhood. In Mexico I had many friends, I played with them in school and outside of school. In Jericho-VII I had people I liked and that liked me back, but I never truly had friends. Sure, I was invited to parties and greeted warmly and hung out with some of the other guys after school, but it always felt a little bit empty. Maybe it was the usual teenage angst, but then again, maybe it wasn't.

I sat up abruptly. Just as I did that Corporal Young was walking a few meters in front of us. He stopped and turned to watch the game, displaying his impressively wide shoulders.

"You think?" I asked Grass.

"Hmm?"

I pointed.

"Nah."

"Are you sure?" I pressed.

"Pavel's shoulders are wider," she said.

I frowned a little bit, looking around for Pavel, but he was nowhere to be seen. "Maybe, but not by much."

"Pavel can do unlimited chin-ups and unlimited shoulder presses," Grass said. "His shoulders are wider."

She was probably right. She usually was.

"The man looks like a linebacker," I said.

"Some of us ODSTs really don't know when to stop."

"I think I'm in perfect shape," I said defensively.

"I didn't mention you," she sassed back. "I think you look very well-proportioned."

Now she had to be fishing for compliments.

It was true though, I might've been arrogant about a lot of things, but I was very proud about the way my body looked. Not only did I train for maximum strength and speed, but I also did my best to keep my body looking good. Thankfully, those two aspects had a very large overlap. Wide shoulders and chiseled chest meant strength. You'd be surprised though, most of what a Helljumper needed was incredible stamina as well as legs of steel. Nobody here skipped leg day.

"Do you want me to flex for you?" I asked.

"Oh please don't. I don't think I could resist."

We both laughed and watched as the Marines mounted an offensive against the Pakistanis. It was a fairly fun game to watch.

"How's your side?" she asked.

"Good. Grafts are coming in nicely. I've got one less scar now."

"Until the skin completely adapts, that is?"

"Yeah," I said. "Right now it just looks uncomfortably pale. Have you ever seen a black man with a recent graft?"

She nodded.

"It's almost comical," I went on. "How long does it take for the melanin to move into the graft?"

"Two to three days," she said. "It takes more the darker your skin is. You should be almost set."

I lifted my shirt a little bit. One could clearly see the edge of the graft. It was a lot better than the ones on my back. The doctor had told me that this would not leave me any scar at all.

The Marines scored, winning the game.

"Looks like we're up," I said, getting back on my feet. "Try not to fuck it up this time."

---

"One and two," Pavel said. "Not a bad record."

"Could be worse," I agreed.

"That was so much fun!" Miranda said. "I love football."

"Doesn't everybody?" Grass asked.

"And the games weren't interrupted either!" she exclaimed. "We were even allowed to finish that last one."

It had been pretty decent of them.

I opened the trunk and grabbed my undersuit. Brand-spanking-new. It was in a different color, with greys and blacks without camouflage patterns. It pretty much looked like a skiing outfit or a gravball winter uniform. As soon as I put it on the discomfort disappeared. Those things were truly wonderful. Sometimes it was hard to squeeze into it, but once you were done putting it on you felt more comfortable than you would if you were naked. After that, it was a matter of the practiced motions of putting on the armor that you fought in.

"Tarkov confirmed that he's going to be putting one of his squads directly under my command. I've already talked to Corporal Young, seems like a good man."

"Not a Hungarian?" Miranda asked.

"No," I said. "All his men are fluent in English in case you were wondering."

"Do they know Romanian?"

"Shut up," I ordered. "Young will have command of his squad, the rest of you will work like we normally do. I don't want to make things too complicated, even if everyone here is his rank or higher."

"Have we gotten our assignment?" Pavel asked.

"Yes," I said. "We're moving up, Falcon gunships are dropping us down a couple of clicks from this position. We're mostly going to do scouting and recon for the main line of defense here. Pack light, but get water and food for two days. I don't plan on getting in serious firefights."

"What about our satellites?" Miranda asked, confused.

"You didn't hear?" Grass asked. "They were shot down in anticipation for this offensive. And as fate would have it, there's no more drones to go around."

"None at all?" Miranda asked, sounding genuinely annoyed. "We are defending a national border. You're telling me there's no drones? At all?"

"None at all," I confirmed. "Most of them are in Mombasa and getting shot faster than we can make them. Most countries aren't sharing theirs and Pakistan happened to make the mistake of using all of theirs in India and Afghanistan in an attempt to keep their borders from being crossed. Mongols are untouched, they've set their whole infrastructure to building cheap, disposable drones. They can't fly very high and they're pretty much made of plywood, but they have cameras and transmit images."

"Do we have some of those?" Pavel asked.

"No."

"When will we have some of those?"

"Three days," I said. "That's what the brief said. Fucking drones…"

"Can't live without them," Pavel said. "Well, you know what I mean."

"We're going to be taking two things that we don't usually take," I went on. "Camera and radio. You know how it is with the mountains, this has better range than our helmets, but chances are we're not going to be in touch for extended periods of time. Scratch that. Hours at a time, but this mission is a quick one. We're going to report their numbers, maybe call on some artillery strikes and then, if all goes well, fall back."

"Wow," Pavel said. "That's very…"

"Expected of Special Forces?" Grass finished for him.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I thought they'd have us hunting Scarabs with water guns or something."

"We've done more with less," Grass said.

Caboose snorted, surprising everybody. "That should be our motto."

Everyone looked at him and then at each other. It was a good idea. I liked that.

"I want suppressors. Pavel this means you might need an M7."

"I'm used to lugging weight around."

"Hence the shoulders," Grass whispered to me, drawing a chuckle.

"Hey, what was that?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said. "No AA for us, no sniping tools. Miranda, you're packing an EMR?"

"And an SMG," she said.

"Jesus, does nobody listen? I said to pack light."

"There's only five of us," Pavel said. "We'll take light ammunition loads, but we need to be able to respond to all types of threats."

"I know, I know," I said while I rubbed my temples. "Fine. Only two spares for your M7, Miri."

"Caboose?"

He raised his shotgun and then his carbine. No surprise there.

"Alright. Grass?"

"MA5," she said. "As per usual."

"No surprise there," I said. "Two grenades. Grass, you take the colored smokes."

"Yes, sir," she said, shooting me a perky salute.

"Young and his men have their orders, they'll meet us on the tarmac."

"You mean the main road?" Pavel asked.

"Shhh, let's pretend we're in a base."

I gave my moment some time to finish grabbing all their gear and ammunition. I noticed that everybody took their own can of biofoam and stocked up on some other medical supplies. I didn't blame them, ever since we had lost… well, all of our medical experts things had been a bit rough. I missed Andy a lot, too. Shit, I missed everybody.

Our little impromptu base was not a terribly bad position. We were a few kilometers from the summit of the Khyber Pass and right next to the border separating Afghanistan and Pakistan. The fences separating the countries were sturdy but had been neglected over the years as relations improved. Fences or no fences, the terrain around the town of Torkham was rough. The Hindu Kush once again helped us out immensely. Terrain is something that we had to use to our advantage as much as possible. Afghanistan has the roughest terrain in the world according to some, the Covenant were probably cursing their gods to hell and back now that they've found out just how bad it was. Not to mention that they were about to slam themselves against a few battalions of very pissed of men and women that would put them through the grinder.

It wasn't an impossibility that we would stop their advance right here. Especially if one remembered that the array in Sector Six further south needed to be held for as long as possible if we wanted to have any coordinated actions at all.

"Where are our Falcons?" I asked one of the men near the designated landing areas.

"Lieutenant Castillo?" he asked. "Slight change of plans, Pelicans now."

I shrugged and moved towards one of the dropships, my team in tow. Corporal Young and his squad were already there waiting for us. The man had five other men with him, bringing the ODST number up to eleven. They were carrying a similar amount of gear, with one of their number also toting an EMR similar to Miranda's but with a slightly different configuration of attachments. Everybody has their preferences. Young himself was carrying his scoped MA5B, M7 submachine gun, and not one but two pistols. One more weapon than I'd have opted for, but he had nodded when I told him to pack light. I noticed that in addition to his Tomahawk he also had a machete strapped to his right thigh below the pistol holster.

The rest of his men were mostly carrying MA5B assault rifles, although they were toting the considerably stripped down versions that made them lighter and easier to carry around. All of them had silencers attached to their weapons.

"Y'all good?" I asked.

"Yes, sir," Corporal Young replied.

"Let's go," I ordered.

---

"Good luck out there, boys," the pilot said. "Stay safe."

"Thanks," Grass replied. "Will do."

We were back on the middle of nowhere. There were trees all around us and the change in altitude had made the temperatures lower, but my undersuit protected me from the uncomfortable effects of cold. I polarized my visor and carefully moved on the slope of the mountain, approaching the men that would be under my command for the duration of this mission.

"Lieutenant Tarkov, we're in position," I said into my helmet.

"Copy that," he replied. "Good luck."

He also had a couple of squads working a few clicks away from our position, but the man himself had remained back at Torkham to coordinate the rest of the 19th as they defended the town.

"Young, take your men down to the first two quadrants. We'll meet in the next valley."

"Yes, sir."

As Young and his men disappeared from sight I mentally went over all the information I had. We had completely destroyed the roads that led into Torkham, making it difficult for the Covenant to move through but not impossible. We knew that they were going to be moving through that same general area, probably right on top of the damaged highway, but they'd have scouts out and other units that they'd want to keep away from prying eyes. We worked in a similar manner, trying to fuck with their heads a little bit, but I assure you that nothing quite does that like seeing a Scarab pop out of nowhere.

"Eyes open," I said. "Keep all communications intra-helmet, sound carries far here."

After that order my men went silent. Not because they couldn't talk, but because they didn't appear to feel like it. I walked near the center of the group, keeping tabs on Miranda as she scouted ahead of us, nearly out of sight. The trees were not as densely packed as I would've liked and the cold had stripped some of the leaves from it, leaving us even more exposed. Afghanistan was a country of very diverse climate. Mountain forests this valley and a desert in the next one. Frankly I'm not sure how it worked, but it made things more difficult for all parties involved.

There were a couple of minor incidents where someone kicked a rock or stepped on a dead branch, but glares from multiple visors promptly had everyone watching their step. We saw nothing of particular interest until we came down to the bottom of the slope and into the next valley. It was a narrow thing that could almost be called a cliff, but not quite. Young and his men were already there, having just gotten there.

"Nothing," he said.

"Let's move up the next peak," I ordered.

It should've been a quick climb, no more than an hour at the most. It wasn't going to be fun; however, it was steep enough that we had to move up tracing s-shaped lines. The trees in this side weren't as thick as the ones on the other peak. It was a little bit annoying, if I'm going to be frank with you, but not a major concern. I wished we had camouflage like the elites and brutes had. Click a button and become invisible to the naked eye. Sure you'd put out enough heat to cook marshmallows, but nobody would be able to do that if you put a knife in their back.

Miranda raised her fist and the whole group halted, going down on one knee and preparing their weapons.

"Shhh," she said instinctively. "Anyone else hear that?"

"Is that a bear?" one of Young's men asked.

"Quiet," I said.

"Yeah, it's a bear," Grass said.

"Are you sure?" Young asked.

"Trust her on this one," Pavel told him.

"She's never wrong," I admitted.

There was an explosion, it was less than twenty meters downhill. The ground grumbled and suddenly it gave way. I cursed and ran towards a tree, but the whole thing was torn off the ground and I realized that the entire slope was sliding down. There was swearing and cursing as everyone began running, the ground moving past their feet. As long as there was some sort of structural integrity to the sliding slope we could walk on it, but a mudslide rarely worked like that.

The ground under my feet crumbled and I cursed loudly, attempting not to fall down. I saw one of Young's men fall on his ass and before I could do anything the force of the slide brought me down and everything became a huge confusion.

"Fuck!"

"Watch out!"

"Mother of-"

"Miri, help!"

I finally slowed down and stopped. I opened my eyes but everything was dark. I started struggling and realized that I had been fortunate enough to have been buried in only a thin layer of dirt.

"Ah, fuck," I grunted. "Report."

"Pavs here."

"I'm alive," Caboose grunted.

"Same," Grass said.

"I managed to stay out of it," Miri said. "You are all the way down the valley."

I uncovered myself completely, not letting go of my rifle in the process. There were some grunts of annoyance all around, but it appeared like the men hadn't suffered horribly. No doubt that our armor had protected us.

"Young?" I asked, looking up at Miri as she waved down at us.

"My men are accounted for. Perez is buried too far down it seems. He'll need some help."

"Alright, get to that," I said. "Miranda, I need you to watch over us for a bit, ok? Don't move out. Did anyone see what hit us?"

"It sounded like a Daemon," Grass said. "Well, sorta."

"I didn't hear a blast," Pavel said. "I mean the gun firing."

"We all heard the blast," I groaned. My whole body was hurt. "Let's help out Perez."

The man was buried underneath about fifteen feet of dirt, deep enough that we all had to dig together to pull him out. The man seemed more annoyed than anything else and once we got him out and he had dusted himself off we were all set once again. The problem was that the close explosion of currently unknown origin had not deigned to come again. I was not sure whether we had been located or not.

"Could've been a random shot," Miranda suggested. "A misfire?"

"If it was then it was the biggest coincidence in history," I muttered. "Or have we had luckier events?"

My squad looked all at one another before shrugging and shaking their heads. Corporal Young's men went through a similar process before shaking their heads as well. I looked up to the sky, wondering if there would be a flight of Banshees suddenly coming in to finish us off. I had to ignore the disturbing event and gave the word to move out of the valley. It wasn't as narrow as the last one, but it had more cover. I didn't want to rush this; we still had a couple of hours until we got to the most likely route that the Covenant would take.

"There's a small plateau over this next hill," Grass said after a long walk. "We can stop for dinner there."

"Sun will go down soon, then we can start moving," Pavel said. "Let's go."

The plateau was very small, perhaps the size of three football fields at the most. There were some trees here and there, but not enough that we could move freely without watching our cover.

"This looks like a good spot," I said. "How-"

There was a roar.

"Was that…"

"A bear," Grass said. "Definitely a bear."

"Is it close?"

"Sounded close," I said with a sigh. "Miri, can you keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn't maul us to death."

"That'd be a sad ending to this life," Grass noted.

"Pathetic more than sad," Pavel told her. "Well, it could be both, I guess."

Miranda moved forward a little bit as we carefully took out our planned meals for the day. It wasn't anything particularly heavy, it just happened to have more than enough calories that we could last a day from the nutrition that it provided us. As I took the first bite of my meal bar, a chewy and disgusting piece of crap, Miranda alerted us to Covenant presence. Bars were quickly stashed away and everyone spread out, rifles up and ready for action.

"Brutes," Miranda informed us. "Three of them. Lightly armed."

"Keep an eye on them," I ordered. "We're spreading around them. Do they know we're here?"

"Doesn't look like it."

"Hold your fire," I ordered. "They might lead us back somewhere important."

So we waited, all of us calmly looking down our sights or remaining behind solid cover while the three brutes milled about. They seemed to be waiting for something, but were obviously not practicing any kind of discipline, instead just talking to one another much like college freshmen would at a high school party. Thinking they owned the world.

The bear roared again and the brutes looked in its direction, getting seemingly excited. I realized what was going on. They had taken a little detour in order to go hunting. It was very unprofessional, but what did you expect from a race of glorified monkeys with the aggressiveness of a crazed out badger. I watched as they began moving towards the bear, following them carefully and remaining quiet. Corporal Young was right behind me, holding his rifle at the ready.

"They're hunting the bear," Miranda said. "One of them is-"

"I see them," I told her. "Quiet down."

The three brutes spread a little bit around the bear, holding their weapons loosely and not appearing ready to use them at all. The bear saw them and seemed to ignore them for a bit, but one of the brutes began roaring and growling, to which the bear responded by standing on its hind legs and roaring back, a classic intimidation technique. The brute kept making his animalistic noises and pounding its chest, getting the bear more agitated.

Young raised his rifle, to which I shook my head and made him lower it with my hand.

The brute charged, but the bear was a lot faster than the alien. It was a large bear, a lot larger than I would've expected for a mountain bear in this region, but maybe it had been forced to emigrate from a different area as the Covenant invasion drove them out. The bear got up and managed to claw the brute across the face once before it was tackled down. Both opponents were nearly on equal ground when it came to size and weight, but the brute had the very valuable advantage of being sapient. Young obviously didn't like what was going on.

"Relax." I murmured.

"They're going to kill it."

"Yes," I agreed.

The fight lasted a lot longer than I expected, with the bear managing to really hurt the brute by getting a nasty bite in the torso, but after that it began pounding at the poor animal. The bear was large enough that it took dozens of hits to finally bring it down in pain. Most of its ribs were broken and its snout was bleeding profusely. The brute itself was clutching one of its sides and both its forearms were also putting out a lot of blood, but its adrenaline had it on its feet. It finally straddled the bear and with some effort managed to snap its neck.

"Fucker," Corporal Young cursed.

"Shh," I ordered.

The two other brutes seemed to be laughing and mocking their companion while at the same time giving him compliments. They grabbed the dead bear and slung it over their shoulders, leaving their wounded friend to walk back wherever they had come from.

"There," I said. "Follow them, don't let them spot you. We're downwind from them, Miri. Don't fuck this up."

"I won't, sir," she assured me.

The brutes were moving slowly, what with carrying a dead carcass as well as a wounded friend, but there was so much blood that it was hard not to catch their trail. Miranda kept sight of them at all times and the rest of the team moved back slowly. Corporal Young and his squad were on our left flank, ready to break off and do their own recon elsewhere if need be, but these three brutes could be headed anywhere from a small camp to a large base of operations. The latter would be fortunate or certain death, but it would still help to have six other men at our backs for support.

"Looks like a forward post," Miranda said about four hours into the night. "A battalion, maybe?"

"Vehicles?" I asked.

"Not a lot. I'm patching you up."

I got her helmet feed and saw the three brutes heading down a slope and into a largish camp with purple lights. There were six sniper platforms and a couple of Ghosts that I could see, but it seemed like that was the extent of the vehicles there. No, there were four Choppers on the opposite side of the camp and two Banshees grounded next to them. The camp looked very temporary. It had all the makings of a temporary operations post. Probably meant to guard the flanks of a larger force or to give early warning in case of unexpected attacks. Well, it was good news that we wouldn't give them enough time to get a warning out.

"Hold position," I ordered. "Everyone else, move up to her location."

I took a few pictures with the camera that they had given me. The pictures were immediately transmitted towards our base in Torkham. Once there a man would see them, go over their value and contact me having determined whether the location was enough of a target to be worth blowing up. Judging from the size of this find I was going to assume that we'd have an artillery barrage coming in within five minutes. The Pakistani Army had some pretty legit artillery corps if the rumors were true. They had pieces designed to fire over a mountain and then come right back down at the steepest angle possible. The UNSC could do that too, but we weren't as good at it and had to call in specialists more often than not. The Pakis did more with less technology it seemed.

"Lieutenant Castillo?"

The radio lit up, but the sound only came on my helmet's speakers. Clear as day.

"Speaking," I replied.

"Anything the pictures don't show?"

"Seems like they cover everything," I said. "You've got our location?"

"Affirmative, lieutenant. Correct me if I'm wrong: the enemy encampment is three grid squares north of your position?"

"Looks like it," I said. "Are you going to need lasering?"

"Negative, we'll do this unguided. Expect the barrage to land in… nineteen seconds."

I nodded even though the man couldn't see it. "Young. One second before the artillery lands you can shoot that brute."
The corporal looked at me for a few instants before settling into position and aiming at the brute through his scope. The MA5B was notoriously inaccurate when compared to the other versions of the rifle. The spray was almost comparable to something that you'd expect from an SMG, but I was pretty confident that Young would get the shot. He made sure that his considerable bulk was in position and precisely a second and a half before the artillery shells hit he fired a seven round burst. The subsonic rounds alerted the brutes before they hit, but the designated target had all seven rounds hit the back of the brute's head. I could only imagine the pile of mush that its face was when the AP bullets punched out, but precisely point-seven seconds after the bullets made impact the artillery came down hard.

It was strange. The barrage consisted of a few dozen HE and anti-personnel shells landing within an inch of where they were supposed to hit, but that was it. No follow-up, no second round. The first few shells had hit exactly what they were supposed to and that was that. Every single Covenant troop in the camp was now dead.

"Miranda, watch for survivors and scouts on the slopes," I said. "Pavel, stay back, we might need you to provide supporting fire if shit goes down."

"Got it."

"Young, want to take the neighboring sector?" I asked.

"Will do. Think we can expect enemy presence? This camp looked almost designed to stall or warn against other attacks."

I shrugged slightly. "Odds are that one of our squads will find hostiles. You know what to do."

"Yes, sir."

They broke off once again, this time nearly in an opposite direction. It wasn't terrible, the valleys curved back and we would meet a few kilometers from here after clearing them out, but both valleys were long and wide, perfect to move around large numbers of troops. From there they'd have to climb through two rough passes and then the next valley sloped down towards Pakistan. It wasn't easy terrain, but if they soldiered through it then they'd be able to hit Torkham from the side and nearly bypass our defenses. To be fair, they'd be able to completely bypass most of them and their sheer numbers would soon have us falling back to the Khyber in order to get a good defensive line going. It wasn't going to be easy if they succeeded in that.

The enemy encampment was full of dead Covenant troops. The best kind there were. I smiled a little bit at the sight of the brute that Young had drilled through the head. There was enough of its upper torso left that you could tell which one it was. The other two had been hit by a shell and nearly torn apart completely. I found it surprising that the bear itself seemed nearly untouched by the shell. There was only a small amount of blood coming from its nose.

"You put up a brave fight, buddy," Grass said, kneeling next to it and rubbing its head. "You took one for the planet."

I would've rolled my eyes, but I was feeling similarly about the bear. We could've saved the poor animal, but then we wouldn't have been able to find this encampment as quickly and easily. It was a good sacrifice.

"Enemy equipment seems thoroughly destroyed," Caboose pointed out lazily. "I'm not seeing any movement. Those Pakis know their work."

"They've learned to target terrorists and hostile tribesmen over the years," Grass said. "Arguably the best artillery corps in the universe, but the Afghans themselves would disagree."

"Well, they were blown to bits when Kabul went down," I said. "So the Pakis are there regardless."

Grass shrugged.

"Alright," I said. "Come down, we need to move up."

This little spot was no longer of any relevance. There was barely enough smoke coming up as it was and the wind would dissipate it before anyone would suspect any different. Years ago this place had been drier and more arid, but nowadays the forest and trees would help mask some of the smoke. It was another advantage that this terrain was providing us.

"How would the Afghans feel about Pakistan firing shells into their territory?" Miranda asked. "Don't they have strained relations?"

"Not anymore," Grass said. "Not technically, at least, but the history is still present in the people's minds. It would be like Argentina allowing the presence of Uruguayan troops in their territory. Even if for humanitarian reasons."

"So the answer is…" Miranda prompted.

"They gave their explicit permission for Pakistani and even Iranian forces to shoot into their territory if it meant that they were targeting Covenant forces."

"Ah," Miranda said, satisfied.

"Lieutenant Castillo," my radio chimed a few seconds later. "You copy?"

The signal was a bit wonky, but I could hear. "Copy. Tarkov?"

"Yes. Is Grayson with you?"

"Negative, Young and his men took off for Valley… 21. My own squad is doing recon in 20."

"I've lost contact with him."

"They're in a dead zone, I think," I said. "I'll try and raise them on the radio. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried that they're dead," he told me. "I'm worried that they won't be able to call in the artillery and rockets like they're supposed to."

"They're Helljumpers, they'll find a way."

"That bunch would find a way to fuck up basic arithmetic," Tarkov grumbled. "Let me know if you can raise them on the comm. My other squads have run into heavy enemy presence but have not been made yet."

"Looks like they're taking us seriously," I said. "Will do, Castillo out."

Valley 21, as it had been designated by the UNSC, was large enough that we couldn't be sure it was empty. It was also a lot more densely forested than I would've expected. Those old reforestation programs had worked out great in some places, but the true savior of Earth's species had probably been DNA storage. In any case, we were making slow progress, trying to make completely sure that the place was empty. If we missed a couple of hostiles it would be alright, those things happened, but that's nothing we wanted.

"Can you hit up Young?" Grass asked.

"You sound awfully interested in him," I told her.

"Maybe. Are you jealous?"

I was caught off-guard, but Pavel's chuckle covered for me. "I can't, there's heavy interference and no signal out of this valley…"

She just nodded and kept on moving, same as the rest of the team. We were awful quiet for some reason. Reaper had always been the best team, but like I had repeatedly stated, we weren't the most professional. We were always talking, breaking radio silence, doing a bunch of things that probably cost us blood, sweat, and tears. It was what made all the pain worth it, listening to Bee ramble about a movie that nobody cared about but we would end up watching anyways or trying not to snicker at Snark's comments that were too clever by half. Hell, even Grass filled the void by giving us some of her stupid, useless facts.

"It's quiet," I said.

"Yes," Pavel agreed.

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh."

Despite that brief exchange nobody made a move to start a conversation. It was slightly unnerving. I don't know why it bothered me. We had been silent plenty of times, but this was one of those moments where it felt appropriate to have a conversation and the lack of one was really agitating me. I knew it wasn't normal for me to feel like this, but I could feel myself start shaking.

"Breathe," Schitzo advised with a little concern. "Calm down."

I breathed deeply and opened up my music library, looking for something interesting and new. I smiled when I saw a song that Bee had been talking about for a while. He hadn't played it before his death; he liked to build up the ones he really liked in order to blow us away. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't.

"Carry on my wayward son…"

"Are you sure that-" Grass began before abruptly cutting herself off.

We listened to the song as a guitar solo drowned most of the other instruments and the singer stopped after having just sung one line. As we listened to this band, for some reason named after a former state, I remembered Robert Agnarsson. He said he heard this song played in a television show. I'd have to find it for him.

---

"How much longer?" I asked. "It is only a matter of time until they reduce these boulders to powder."

"We're getting our guns back online," the dispatcher replied calmly. "Your support would be there if the recon teams hadn't let sabotage squads sneak past them."

"My men weren't the ones that fucked up," I reminded him. "Withhold support from them instead, why don't you?"

"Whoever they sneaked past, the guns won't be back online for a few more minutes. I'd love to send some bombers your way, but we're strictly prohibited from using them before the Covenant attacks Torkham."

"I know, I know," I muttered. "Give me a heads up, will you?"

"Will do, Lieutenant… Good luck."

Another Daemon shell detonated against the large boulder, sending pieces of pulverized rock over us. Miranda and Pavel raised their hands instinctively, but everyone else just let the tiny rocks hit their armor harmlessly. Grass looked almost annoyed at the small inconvenience.

"Everyone good?" Corporal Young asked. "I can't see you from here."

"We're fine, Corporal," I assured him. "Sitrep."

"Pretty similar," he said softly. "They haven't moved their Daemon tanks from the previous positions. They moved up a platoon, but they haven't made it past the first cliff."

"What about the front squads?" I asked.

"No change. We've got them tagged and are ready to take them out if they get within range."

"Hold off on that," I ordered. "You're still within range."

"I know, sir."

Yet another blast shook the boulder with a loud groan, almost as if the rock itself was in pain.

Occasionally we would get a couple of plasma bursts would make it past the edge of the boulder and hit the ground, torching whatever vegetation was still alive. I was impressed at the amount of firepower that the Covenant had let loose at us, they had started more conventionally, of course, but the terrain had quickly turned their advances into a bloodbath while my own men didn't even take a single hit. Young and his men had arrived a little bit later, but I had ordered them to keep it down. They were a lot further up and to our flank, ready to provide excellent support fire if need be, but there were two very sharp cliffs at our feet, one of which the Covenant were finding troublesome indeed. Even with jump packs the brutes were making slow progress, mostly because the moron in command of the artillery had refused to cease firing on our position in order to get the kill.

"At least we are buying time," Miranda said with resignation.

I shrugged.

"Bombing should take out the Daemons, that's a big plus when they finally hit Torkham."

"You stay positive," I told her.

Another explosion sent dirt and rock over us, but this shell had hit the side of the boulder, spraying us with hot rock from the sides. Those were the worst ones. Not because they hurt us, but because the dirt was flying faster. It was like being punched by a coked up toddler, but it added up. I sighed as the pebbles settled and grunted as another shell shook the entire boulder, drawing yet another painful creak. They were carving pieces of rock bit by bit, but with some luck they could just break this thing. If that happened, we'd have to climb down, towards them. It would be more of a fall than a climb.

Bee had showed me a movie about a group of elite forces from the 21st century. It was set in Afghanistan as well. Anyways, there were a couple of scenes were the unlucky fuckers rolled downhill in order to escape from the enemy. They had it shitty, but we'd have to roll downhill towards the enemy in order to avoid the artillery. Even then we didn't have a guarantee that the artillery would stop firing even at the cost of their own men.

"Lieutenant, there are two brutes in position to jump on top of the boulder," Corporal Young warned. "They're prepping grenades."

I sighed. "Thanks. Tag them will you?"

"Yes. Sorry."

"Miranda," I said. "What do you think?"

"Gamble at best," she replied. "I can hit and kill at least one, but there's the fact that-"

"A tank could shoot you in the face if you leave cover," Grass said.

I sighed again. "Well."

This time it was Miranda's turn to sigh. "Fine."

We waited a few seconds, closer to the edge of the boulder than she would've liked, but ready for a few shells to hit in quick succession. Once that happened she ran towards the edge, but the brutes also jumped, seeking to take advantage of the lull in fire. Miranda muttered something in her native tongue and stopped, tracking the elites through the boulder with her rifle and waiting for them to appear as they jets carried them into our field of view. The rest of the team raised their weapons, but the brutes were already overhead and within sight. One of them pulled its arm back, ready to throw a spike grenade.

Miranda fired a single burst. The shot was far more accurate than anyone would've expected. I'm sure that she herself was surprised at her success. The single bullet hit the primed grenade and detonated it prematurely. Dozens of spikes were sent into the brute, killing it instantaneously. The other jump jet brute was hit by a lesser, non-lethal number of spikes, but the alien's trajectory was disrupted and it fell back down the cliff, presumably smacking against the rocks.

Young's wincing noise made it clear that the second brute had not suffered a pretty fate.

"Wow," Pavel said.

"Good shot," I agreed. "You should do that more often, Miri."

She regressed to her old self briefly, looking away awkwardly and presumably blushing under her visor. She shook it off and just nodded a quick thank you before returning to the center of the boulder where it was safest. Another shell exploded and we resumed our waiting game, hoping for that artillery to take out the enemy.

"Lieutenant?" the man at dispatch came in. "We're sending an artillery strike. Have your men designate targets, tag the high value ones first."

"About time," I said. "Young, you hear that?"

"Already on it, sir!"

"You got them?" I asked the dispatcher.

"Nice and bright," he replied. "Forty seconds."

"Thanks for the assist," I said, groaning it. "About time."

"Happy to help," he replied, equally sarcastic.

After a couple of hours of being trapped behind that large boulder forty seconds felt as short as it was. We saw the screaming shells come crashing down much like last time, but this time it was a barrage much, much larger than the first one. Multiple shots were fired by each piece back in Pakistan. We even got a few rockets carrying highly explosive payloads. I didn't get to see the results, but the feed from Young's sharpshooter showed me where everything that I needed to see. The first ones to go were the Daemons, quickly followed by Wraiths and Revenants. Prowlers and Shadows were destroyed just milliseconds after but it was hard to tell from the feed alone. I'd have to go back over it in super slow motion to figure out the exact order, because all I could see was how the entire valley was suddenly lifted up in a fountain of dirt, metal, and blood. It was a good show.

"Young, clear the survivors," I ordered. "Focus on those near us."

"Yes, sir," he said.

Gunfire started ringing out.

"Grass, suggestions?"

"We can make our way around," she said. "Meet up with Corporal Young's squad and go over the next valley. If there was a detachment this large here it means there might be more enemies there."

"That'll be outside the artillery range," Pavel noted. "Valley is too narrow. Maybe we'll get some rocket support."

"Then we move up?" I asked. "We should be able to get the artillery there."

"Range is becoming extreme," Caboose said. "It's almost morning, they might need to pull us back soon."

"We still don't have that order," I noted. "As long as we're supposed to scout the terrain we'll keep doing that. Let's meet up with Young."

My team nodded and began moving. With care, of course, there were still some survivors in the area that Young's sharpshooter would be taking care of. The trees were all gone and we had little concealment to speak of, but there was something to work with.

"Looks like there are a few enemy troops left," Young said. "We've got them pinned down against the rocks."

"Keep them there," I ordered. "We need to make our way to the other end of the valley before sunrise. We've only got a few hours left."

"Yes, sir."

---

"Don't give an outline," I said.

The ridge that turned this valley into the next valley was a few meters up ahead. The red sun was already beginning to peak through the mountains behind us and gave the sky behind us a red hue will the clouds in front of us remained a dark purple. Young's men were the first to move up, careful to roll over the cliff. It was still a bit dark in the next valley, but anyone that was looking could see the human shaped silhouette in stark contrast against the red sky.

The music was playing in my helmet again. All of my squad was calmly listening to it. It wasn't half bad. All of us had been introduced to rock in some way or another through Bee. It was one of those genres that was timeless, as they say. For the most part he had taught us some good songs, but we took it from there. I was particularly fond of U2 and Styx, but Bee really knew all the good songs out there.

It was hard to roll my eyes at the guy when he had made this playlist before he was killed. Boston was damn good.

"That's a lot," Pavel noted.

I had to agree with him. The whole valley was filled with Covenant vehicles slowly moving through the bottom and towards a mountain pass on the other side. It was not an encouraging sight, but we knew what to expect. The whole bulk of the Covenant force preparing to attack Torkham was there. We looked at it for a while and realized that no matter how long the artillery corps fired for they wouldn't be able to take them all out. It seemed like something out of a fantasy film where the evil army moves through the ground.

One of Young's men whistled at the same time that Pavel did. The two looked at each other before shrugging.

"Dark zone," Grass said. "Artillery strikes won't make it here."

"We can't do anything on our own," I noted, shuffling the high-tech camera that we had been issued for the mission for the first time. It was a large device, capable of zooming in a distance of multiple miles and able to make out decade-old scars at that distance. Some amateur astronomers used it to take pictures of the moon and map out the craters and cities.

I looked down and started taking multiple pictures. The camera took a few hundred high-res pictures with every click as well as video for the whole duration. I zoomed in and out, pinpointing targets of value and clusters of enemies. I couldn't make out much myself, especially at this distance, but the thousands of images would be processed by an AI which in turn would spot the brute chieftains and cross-reference them with previous battle data. The pictures would also help establish a number for the enemy vehicles and materiel.

"Lieutenant, we're getting pictures and video feed from you," dispatch checked in. "From the looks of it you won't be able to move forward much more."

"That's very much true," I said. "Orders?"

"We're pulling you back. "Enemy scout units have been spotted closer to our lines. Additional intel suggests that the group you're looking at isn't the only Covenant army moving towards us."

"So you're saying there are two of those?" I asked.

"At least."

There were three whistles this time.

"We're sending Falcon gunships your way. Four of them should be on the way soon."

"Where?"

"I'm sending the coordinates."

I nodded and sighed, giving the signal for my men to move back towards the designated evacuation point and hoping that I wouldn't have to engage any other enemy units. The Pakistani artillery would cover us if we really needed it, but having them spend ammunition before the real battle even began was not something that I wanted. I was a bit tired, we had been walking for most of the night and the stims were beginning to wear off. They managed to keep us up, but they didn't keep the boredom away.

"Play some music, will you, Frank?" Grass asked, slowing down to walk next to me. "Something relaxing."

I smiled at the comment. Bee had left us with a playlist appropriately titled "chill."

---

The pilots had done a good job, but in the end, there really wasn't anything that they could do. I covered my face as the green explosion took out the right rotor and sent hot metal towards me. I felt a couple of blows in my forearm, but the screaming was what drew my attention. The two other Falcon pilots had valiantly slowed down and dropped off the men they were carrying in an attempt to give them a chance to survive. Pavel and I remained on board our own Falcon with Grass. We pounded the Banshees and did our best to make it as close to our lines as we could, but I had long since run out of ammo for the M247 machine gun and Pavel was about to do the same. Grass and I had been having limited success in driving off the Banshees on our side, but in the end we only had small arms to go against the vehicles.

"I'm on the ground!" Caboose reported. "We're making our way in the forest!"

"Keep your heads down," I ordered. "We'll catch up."

It was a ballsy statement, especially when the Falcon was spiraling out of control and the pilot struggled to maintain a semblance of up and down.

"Brace yourselves," she said. "I'm aiming for the trees, soften up our landing."

"We know the drill," I shouted back, trying to make myself heard over the sputtering engine and wind. "Pavel!"

"I'm strapped in!"

"Grass?"

"Ready to go, Frank!"

I caught sight of one of the other Falcons being blown up by a pair of strafing Banshees as it attempted to regain altitude. The third one was nowhere to be seen, but it had probably suffered the same fate. I cursed silently. If only they hadn't caught us by surprise we might've been able to hold them off long enough, but with only three instead of four gunships we never had a chance.

"Ok, here we go!"

The mountainside just disappeared past me as the Falcon tilted and the trees in the valley floor got larger at an astounding rate. It was nothing I hadn't experienced before. Like I had told the pilot, we all knew the drill. I had crashed in multiple Falcons, Hornets, Pelicans, and other aircraft. Hell, I crashed into the ground and high speeds for a living, but it wasn't quite the same. Every time I was on a Pelican I remembered Marina, every time I was on a Hornet or Falcon I remembered Emily Hardwick. It was hard, I hated being able to associate so many things with so many dead friends. Rocket launchers, sniper rifles, grenade launchers… Frigates and dropships. I hated it.

The Falcon hit the trees and my head slammed against the butt of the machine gun, knocking me out for a minute.

"Frank!"

"I'm up!" I shouted. "Fucking hell, I'm up!"

My vision was barely back, with the edges blurry and unfocused. I grunted in mild pain. My shoulders and neck hurt from the straps and the whiplash. I closed my eyes and took one deep breath, blocking out the shouts from the ODSTs on the ground. I opened my eyes and realized that I was hanging at an angle, the harness was the only thing keeping me from falling thirty feet to the ground. Directly below me were Grass and Pavel, with my best friend sitting down and examining his ankle while Grass looked up at me.

"Where's my rifle?" I asked.

"You dropped it," she called out. "Grigori's got it."

"Pilot?"

"I'm here, sir," the pilot replied. "Buckle is jammed, I'm cutting through the straps."

"Need help?" I asked.

"Yes, but I wouldn't recommend it. Banshees will come in and blast us any second."

I nodded to myself and moved back, getting a good grip so that I wouldn't fall down when I undid my straps. I couldn't jump the ten meters straight down, I would need to grab onto a tree branch and then let go. I looked around for good candidates, but many of the branches had been torn away by pieces of shrapnel from the Falcon, but the trees themselves seemed intact enough. I took a deep breath and prepared for my jump. I couldn't even see straight for God's sake.

"Shit, shit, shit!"

I barely made sense of the pilot's words before I decided it was time to jump out of this fucking death trap. I slammed my head into a tree trunk, but was somehow able to hug it tightly with my arms and legs. I slid down the bark before my foot caught a branch stump and I was thrown off. I slammed on my back, letting out all of the air in my longs with a loud oof. I opened my eyes just in time to see the Falcon explode as something hit it. The metal groaned and it began moving, falling straight towards me.

I felt two hands on my shoulders as Pavel and Grass pulled me back away from the metal flaming ball of death. I nearly lost a foot to the Falcon, but in the end I was mostly unscathed.

"Holy shit," Pavel muttered.

"How's the ankle?" I asked.

"Twisted, I can walk on it."

I nodded slowly. "Thanks for saving my ass. Now where's Caboose?"

"They're shooting at us!" one of Young's men called out. "That's definitely small arms plasma fire."

"Where are they?" Corporal Young called back. "You see them."

"South of our position, uphill."

We started heading back towards the bulk of the ODSTs, I did not fail to notice that there were three missing men from Young's squad, incinerated when the first Falcon had fallen prey to the Banshee ambush. I still hadn't figured out how we hadn't seen them coming. There were now only eight of us, Young, two of his men, and Reaper. The blue dots were aligned in a semi-circle facing uphill, preparing for the firefight to come.

"How'd they get here so fast?" I asked.

"Must've been a Phantom," Miranda replied. "I didn't see it, but it had to be there."

"Watch out!"

Her theory proved to be true when a Covenant dropship did an overhead pass, bombarding their position with heavy plasma cannons. My men scampered down for cover, but nobody was hit or killed.

"Watch the charge!" I shouted.

The brutes were already moving forward far quicker than could be considered safe, expecting us to have our heads down and be unprepared for them. Their plan almost succeeded, but they had been too far away in the first place, so the first two met a wall of lead that tore them to shreds.

Pavel threw me his SMG while he set up his machine gun and I fired a burst, sending a couple of the advance troops back to cover. Our little unit had taken cover where one of the Falcons had crashed near a very large log, giving us a good amount of protection from the enemy uphill. All eight of us bunkered down close to one another, waiting for the Covenant to move up again.

"Caboose, where's my rifle?"

"Miranda has it," he replied.

"Just a moment, sir," she told me. She was taking cover behind a medium-sized boulder on the other end of the Falcon. There was a small gap between the rock and the gunship and she didn't want to risk moving through to pass me the weapon. I shuffled around the other men, all the time dreading the silence.

"Do you see anything?" I asked.

"Negative, no movement," Young replied. "I've got the location of two grunts and a jackal, but they're not moving."

"What about further up?" Pavel asked. "Forest is too thick."

"I can't see much," one of Young's men noted.

"Keep your eyes on our flanks," I said, "we don't want to-"

A grenade or two exploded against the Falcon tipping the craft a little bit before it came back down and inaugurating the second attempt to kill the rest of this scout team. Pavel was the first to fire back, simply letting go at full-auto in an attempt to suppress the enemy. He drew attention to himself, but he had position his gun in such way that he could fire without exposing more than his trigger finger.

"They set up a plasma cannon up and right!"

"I need you to funnel them to the right side and keep them there."

"Get down, get down!"

I saw bright spikes fly overhead and slam into the trees further down with dull thunks.

"Shifting fire!" Pavel roared, his voice sounding like his machine gun.

"Get me some tags!" I ordered. "I can't see them!"

It was a little bit unusual, Pavel firing his loud machine gun, roaring as his bullets splintered wood and rock, but the rest of our guns had suppressors on which gave the shots an odd kind of sound, especially as we kept firing through them, making them less useful with every passing second.

"We're gonna need to move out of this position," I said. "Where are we right now?"

"Give me a second," Grass said, immediately digging into her helmet to find our position relative to base. "We're eight miles away."

There were curses. In mountain terrain that was as good as a day worth of walking if not more.

"We need to get these fuckers off our head if we want to even consider moving out," Pavel said.

"Let's get to it then," I muttered.

It was a strange firefight. They would fire often, but not in huge barrages. They knew exactly where we were but we didn't know their location. It was one of the first times that I had felt like I was in danger of being outsmarted by the Covenant. Bolts would fly far too close to my head and then stop for a few seconds before Pavel's location was on the receiving end of a quick series of shots and then quiet again. We could occasionally hear a squawk or a growl in the distance, but that was it.

"Where the hell are they?" I muttered.

"I can't pin them down," Grass said. "They're firing too sporadically."

"I think we should fall back, sir," Corporal Young suggested.

"Agreed," Caboose said.

I was inclined to give the order to move back, but I wasn't completely sure if it was a good idea. Instead I told my team to slowly move back and to the right in a diagonal line, cutting across. They began moving under the cover of Pavel's machine gun, lighting up the entire slope with automatic fire. Young and his men moved first without any incident crossing the big log and then taking cover further down the slope while my own squad positioned itself for a quick exit. Once we moved out of this position we would make our way back to the other crashed Falcon gunship before we hauled ass. Ideally we would be on our merry way before the enemy realized that we were gone.

"It's clear," Young said.

"Ok, go," I said. "Pavel."

"I'm on it," he replied, firing as he pushed himself up and back. There were only a couple of plasma bursts fired when he stopped and the forest went quiet.

"Move, move," I urged my men. "Don't stop."

The only sound we could hear was our boots stomping the ground as we moved sideways across the mountain slope. My breathing was starting to get even heavier and my head was hurting even more than before. It was not the moment to stop or complain, however, we had to keep going. I heard a few loud squawks from jackals and angry growls from brutes before they realized we had dipped. It had been done masterfully on our part. Nearly no sign that we were gone.

"We need to move one click this direction to make it into the next valley," Grass informed. "Should be downhill and easy for the most part, but there's a bunch of boulders we'll have to climb over or go around."

"Which is faster?" Pavel asked.

"Climbing. But we'll be exposed."

"Let's go around, staying hidden is more important," I decided.

We didn't stop our progress, but we were forced to turn back uphill and begin moving around the boulders. The change in direction got us closer to the enemy, but going down would've taken longer. The gamble cost us, because just before we made it past the final and largest boulder we were set upon on our left flank. Fire peppered Miranda, our lead scout and she dropped backwards on her ass to avoid being killed. Young's men shot back while Pavel moved up and took cover before he started shooting. By that point Miranda was already back up and had made it around the boulder, positioning herself behind cover.

"Three jackals," she shouted. "That's all I see."

"I'll cover you!" Pavel shouted.

"Go!" I ordered.

They moved slowly, one by one as Pavel once again provided cover. On the other side of the boulder we set up positions quickly and provided a wide cone of fire for Pavel as he moved up slowly. There was some subdued cursing, but we completed the maneuver in relatively short time and then were on our merry way while trying to keep our asses out of sight and alive.

"Hey, are you ready to give me my rifle back?" I asked Miri.

"Huh? Sorry."

She tossed the rifle and just as I caught it a heavy round detonated in the ground between us. For a moment I lost sight of her as bright plasma and dirt blocked her from sight. I was too busy covering my face as the dirt and shockwave sent me tumbling back into a tree. My head was once again knocked hard and this time I wouldn't wake up until a lot later.

---

November 15, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/

Momand Dara District, Afghanistan, Earth, Sol System

"What?"

I grunted.

"What," I repeated

"Quiet," Miranda said.

"What?"

"Hush," she told me, this time a bit more forcefully.

I remained quiet and immobile. She might not have been in Reaper for long, but she had been under my command for several years now. I trusted her. It was dark and I couldn't see anything, but that was because I was positioned to face against a dark rock wall. My helmet was off, not giving me any feedback. I turned the HUD back on to receive several delayed concussion warnings. It seemed like I was doing a little bit better now, but I was still advised to not partake in any physical activity for the next three days.

As if.

Five minutes passed, then ten. I said nothing and didn't move. Not because I didn't want to, but because the ground was oddly comfortable. I knew that it was because of my concussion or whatever had gotten me so shaken up, but it felt oddly comfortable down here, almost as if the ground was rocking me to sleep.

"I don't think Afghanistan is earthquake heavy," Schitzo said, "but don't quote me on that one please."

The rocking was too rhythmic for it to be a simple act of God. It seemed more of rapid one-two-three-four kind of beat. Not completely rhythmic, but close to it. The mechanic grinding was only audible to my blurry consciousness a few seconds after I realized that we were in the vicinity of a Scarab.

I slowly reached for my pistol in my thigh holster, gripping its butt tightly and hoping that I wouldn't need to use it. Miranda seemed to notice that I was alert now and shot me a quick glance over her shoulder before making a hushing motion. I nodded quietly and waited for the noise to pass us, but it only seemed to get louder. Were we in a fucking cave? I couldn't see any of the other team members in my HUD map, only Miranda showed up and I wasn't on the radio channel anymore. It made me slightly nervous, I doubted everyone was dead, but several hours had passed since I had last had any shred of consciousness. A few seconds ago I had been on a Falcon. No, I had been getting out of the crashed Falcon and then… running? Yeah. Running.

---

November 15, 2552 (UNSC Calendar)/three hours earlier

Momand Dara District, Afghanistan, Earth, Sol System

Lance Corporal Miranda Novak

I covered my eyes just as El-tee disappeared from sight. The blast was probably from a Daemon tank, but thank God that it seemed to be an AP round, which meant it dug a little bit into the mountain before exploding. I thought of this just as the ballooned upwards. It was a pretty sight, that fraction of a second before the actual plasma tore through the ground. I was lost in my thoughts as the shockwave sent me reeling backwards, helped by the dirt and other random debris.

I came flat on my ass, my head shaking. El-tee was slumped on the ground. Not moving. I moved towards him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him and the rifle I had just handed him. Gunny, well, Master Sergeant now, began barking for everybody to keep moving. Grigori was on my side in a heartbeat, but a second later he grabbed El-tee's other arm and helped drag him down the slope as yet another blast came at us.

"What's hitting us?" Corporal Young shouted. "What's-"

"Get down!"

Banshees strafed our location heavily, sending every member of our little team down to the ground. My head was pressed against the ground by Grigori's body before we got back up. Gunny was the only one shooting, firing at one of the Banshees with his machine gun before anybody else even knew what was going on. Grigori aimed up, tracking one of the enemy fliers with his rifle but holding his fire. How did he know where it was? I couldn't even figure out how many there were.

"We gotta make it over the next ridge!" Grass shouted. "Someone get me Frank's radio!"

I grabbed the modified radio and then tucked it into my belly as another series of strafing runs sent us all back to cover. Someone cried out, it seemed to be one of Young's men, thankfully. I had never really been grim, I felt bad for the man, but I didn't want my friends to die before that person.

"Contact dispatch!" Camilla ordered loudly. "Tell them our location and ask for a weapon's drop right over the next ridge."

I liked Camilla. Well, I tolerated her. Actually, it wasn't that bad. We hadn't interacted much. I guess she hadn't gone out of her way to talk to me since she had officially joined the squad back in Reach. At first her artificial black arm had unnerved me, but she seemed incredibly talented as a combatant. I had no idea why they had put her in a desk job at first, but then it became obvious she was the smartest person I had ever met.

Pretty, talented, and smart. It made me want to pull my hair out.

That being said, I was glad to have her fighting alongside me. In the UNSC you had mostly average. It made sense, that's what average meant. Each squad had the guy you relied on during combat. Then you had people like Airborne, Special Operators Rangers, and Helljumpers. In that order. Then you had the folks that could single handedly could change the tides of war. Yevgeny Nezarian had been one of those, Marvin had been one of those, and Gunny was one of those. Adrian Longworth, Snark, Camilla, and Grigori were very close to achieving that status, at least in my book. Then there was El-tee, he was just too much. Sometimes I wondered whether we held him back. Every time we were in risk of certain death he'd do something, pull it out of his ass and shove it up the Covenant's if necessary. If we weren't there slowing him down he might do even more amazing things. Maybe he'd have died by now, but his feats would be the stuff of legends.

Maybe…

"Command, Command, do you copy? This is Reaper Squad, anyone copy?"

"Give it time!" she shouted.

She had somehow assumed the role of commander, at least half of it. Gunny was barking out more action-oriented orders to the rest of the guys, setting up a formation. I realized that I was absently following his instructions while screaming into the radio and helping Grigori drag El-tee's unconscious body through the ground.

"This is Command, what's your situation, Reaper?"

"We were shot down!" I shouted. "Can you get our location?"

"We see you," the man said, obviously tapping away furiously at some keyboard or other. "Can you identify enemy targets?"

"Negative, we can't see where they are, they're hitting us with small arms and artillery."

"You're out of range," the man said. "Any help would take-"

"I know!" I interrupted. "We're making our way over the next ridge and within artillery range. We need- damn! We need a weapons drop. Spartan Lasers, SPANKrs, and SAWs. Backup ammunition for all of those and we need it to be there exactly when we get there."

"Ok, I can work that, I'm transmitting you the coordinates… They're gonna send it a little bit below your position, directly on the other side of the mountain."

"Send me a map," I shouted as two needles dug into a tree, glowing dangerously without blowing up. "We need a waypoint."

"Done. Pakis are deadly accurate, stay out of the impact zone."

"Understood. Gunny!"

He growled acknowledgement before giving the order for everyone to move up. Young's men were good to go, but one of them had been hit by something and was bleeding out of his calf. Young himself seemed a little bit shaken up physically, but he was still alert and cool-headed. He seemed like an able fighter, good-looking guy as well. His shoulders were a little bit too wide, much like Gunny's. Not my cup of tea I guess.

"It's not far," Young said. "We need to get moving."

El-tee started mumbling something and trying to get up, but he was slurring his words and mumbling nonsense. His head had been hit hard. He tried to reach for his rifle strapped on my back before Grigori batted his hand away.

"Put him under," he ordered me.

I nodded and pulled out my only tube of anesthetic. It was for emergencies only. The kind of emergency where you needed to amputate someone's leg or arm in order to save their lives. Pull out a sizeable chunk of metal from a stomach, push intestines back into the thoracic cavity. It was certainly not intended to be used to knock someone out because they were going to be annoying, but right now El-tee would pose a danger to himself and to us.

"Easy now," I said gently.

His hand gripped my wrist and I almost cried out from the pain. It was like a clamp and it only kept squeezing more.

"Grigori!"

Grigori reached down for El-tee's hand and tried to get it away to no avail. I began tearing up from the pain. If he squeezed any harder he'd break my wrist. I dropped the tube and caught it with my other hand before stabbing it in his neck. The microscopic needles were thin, specially designed to break through the material of the undersuit without compromising its vacuum capabilities. Grigori pressed El-tee's other hand against the floor, using his entire body to keep him pinned down and even then struggling. El-tee didn't seem to understand what was going on, but soon enough he was knocked out.

"I got him," Grigori said, sliding him over his shoulders in one smooth motion. "You ok?"

I nodded.

"Let's move!" Pavel roared angrily.

So we moved, we moved quickly even with injured and unconscious men. It was unusual. Not that we hadn't done this before, it's just that we had never had El-tee physically present with us and him not being conscious and leading us into victory or at the very least survival.

"Miranda, I want you covering our rear," Pavel ordered me. "Don't let anything shoot at us."

"Yessir," I replied quickly, pivoting and moving backwards.

There was some fire, but nothing heavy or accurate. I struggled to find the source of the enemy fire but didn't shoot back, not wanting to give away our position. With every shot I got closer to pinpointing at least one of the jackals on our ass. They were moving very fast if they were keeping up with us, but we had the disadvantage of injured men, meaning we'd move slowly as a result. That could be made into an advantage, as the jackals would maybe get too close to us and expose themselves. Then I'd be able to get a bead on them and hopefully get the kill.

You'll get the kill, worry not, I told myself. There, on the right, that was movement.

Here's to hoping, the other side of my brain replied, echoing my younger self.

I finally managed to catch a flash of jackal and squeezed off a single shot, feeling the butt of my rifle hit my shoulder. The shot connected, but it wasn't a kill shot. Response fire was heard, but it was not accurate.

"One is out," I said. "I think…"

"Either it is or it isn't, Miri," Pavel said. "Where'd you hit?"

"Lower chest."

"Then it's out, simple as that."

I hated it when he did that. He was trying to make me sound more confident. I knew I needed it, especially in my line of work, but I couldn't help but feel as if he was being a little bit patronizing.

I was stuck thinking about that, which in turn made me think about why I was behaving like a high school girl in regards to their attitude, Camilla, and everything.

Because everyone in this squad is stuck in high school.

I think all people are.

I don't think that's true.

It could be.

Stop talking to yourself.

Ok.

The slope became a little bit more difficult, but we were almost across the ridge. Once we made it over we would be armed and dangerous. Even more so. We had to go down for a couple of inaccurate Banshee strafing runs, but no one was hurt. Grigori was huffing from the effort of carrying El-tee, I knew that he was deceptively heavier than one would expect from a man his size. Not to say that 6'4 was small, but he sometimes seemed like he had more metal in his body than just those ribs.

"I see the ridge," one of Young's men called out. "East face of the mountain is right here."

"Drop is incoming," I replied.

"Move faster!"

Gunny stopped to fire at a Banshee through the foliage. I could barely see the craft, but I could clearly hear the rounds hitting and then an explosion further downhill. The rest of the Banshees screamed away, trying to evade Gunny's machine gun. He didn't bother shooting back, instead just running forwards faster. I heard the rocket impact into the side of the mountain with a loud groan. Everyone sped up, even Grigori found it in him to move faster. I remained behind, aiming for those jackals chasing us. Once we turned to the other side of the mountain they'd need to go through the ridge, where they'd be more likely to expose themselves.

"Tree cover is more scarce on the other side, " Camilla informed us dully. "We're going to need to take out those Banshees fast."

No one replied, we knew what we had to do. Grigori hopped over just second before I did, the angle of the mountain slope suddenly switching to face eastwards. I moved back furiously, noting the sudden lack of thick forest foliage above me with some frustration. I slid downwards into cover behind a large boulder and waited for the jackals to come through. It wasn't going to be an easy shot, there were still enough trees to impede vision, but it was going to be easier than the other side.

"Grass, take the Spartan Laser," Gunny ordered. "I want those two rockets out flanking her on either side. Banshees will move in on her after the first shot, I want you to take them out before they can strafe."

"Got it," Young said. "Let's move!"

A jackal tried to move up, but I hit it without hesitation. My shot got it right in the middle of the chest, going through the weak armor plates that they sometimes used. A second jackal attempted the same thing, but I drilled it in the head, killing it. I kept my eye out of the scope, searching for movement before zooming in on it.

"Hurry up on those Banshees!" I said.

Not half a second later I heard the familiar sound of a Spartan Laser charging and then firing. An explosion followed as expected and the Banshees screamed as they turned and started bearing down on Camilla's position. The noises that they made were always frightening, there was something primal about those Banshees that scared me to this very day.

"Fire!"

I didn't really know who gave the order, but the dull thuds of four missiles being fired was clearly audible. It was a noise that one began to adore and almost venerate. It always brought good news with it, no matter what the situation. I heard four distinct explosions and even saw one of them as the Banshees were unable to avoid the homing missiles. Camilla fired another time with her Spartan Laser and then there was relative silence.

"Caboose, get Frank over here," Gunny ordered, "I'll take him for now. I want everyone to pack everything up, we're hauling ass now. Grass, get all those batteries, we might need the laser."

"Right away."

I was stuck carrying two rocket packs, not terribly heavy, but a little bit burdensome considering I was already stuck with El-tee's rifle and his secondary ammunition belt. He really did like packing as many magazines in there as humanly possible.

When Gunny said hauling ass he really did mean hauling ass. We were on the verge of sprinting in mountain terrain. It was horrible, painful, and bad for our bodies, but it was a matter of life and death. We had learned to do this, carry more weight than most humans would be comfortable at a speed that most humans couldn't maintain. We were assisted by stims that blocked pain to an extent and the unrelenting pace that was set for us.

It made me wonder how Gunny had been able to keep up with El-tee for all these years. He was a hero in his own right.

"There's a narrow gorge up ahead, it connects to an old tunnel," Grass said. "Used by 23rd century terrorist groups."

"We don't care what the tunnel was used for," Gunny told her a little bit irritably. "Where does it lead?"

"Across the mountain," she replied, "it should still be unblocked."

"And if it's not?" Young asked.

"Then we're not in a good situation," she said nonchalantly.

That was a bit of an understatement, something that we'd expect to hear out of El-tee's mouth right before he charged into a field of Scarabs with a dull knife and a pointy rock. I shrugged it off, but it was weird coming from someone that wasn't him.

Much like Camilla had said there was a narrow gorge, perhaps only ten meters across. We moved through it with more confidence than before, mostly because it was nearly impossible for someone to sneak to our flanks without taking a huge detour to climb on the sides of the cliffs. I kept a good eye on our rear, making sure that no enemy managed to get us within their sights. I could occasionally make out movement, but for the most part the enemy didn't know where we were.

Gunny stepped up the pace and we entered the tunnel that Camilla had told us about. It was narrow, narrow enough that I got a slight feeling of claustrophobia. Corporal Young switched to the back, toting the SAW that had been airdropped. A sustained burst of that weapon would clear the entire tunnel of hostiles. Ricochets would ensure that every bullet flew out the mouth of the tunnel. I moved forward slightly, walking behind Young's two other men. One of them was limping rather badly and bleeding, but he seemed to have it under control. They hadn't addressed their fallen comrades yet, but there would be time for that later I hoped.

We moved fast, but the tunnel was long and completely blocked off our radios from the outside. Normally we should've been able to communicate with Command, but the various interference posts that the Covenant had set up around the area had us jammed.

"There's the exit," Gunny noted. "Miranda, scout it out."

I nodded and squeezed past all the other Helljumpers before jogging forward. My helmet helped with the sudden bright light, automatically shutting off the flashlights as well. The exit was similar to the narrow cliff where we had come, but it wasn't as vertical, in fact it was climbable without any gear, but not something I'd look forward to. I moved past the first few trees, densely packed and full of branches that blocked the entrance from sight. I moved slowly and methodically like El-tee liked to walk. There was an absurdly high amount of trees near the entrance, but once I passed them all I was very exposed. I stopped and looked around. There were signs of Covenant presence on the ground, old footprints and discarded methane tanks. They appeared to be at least a day old. Probably from one of their scout teams.

"It looks clear," I spoke into the radio. "But I'm seeing signs of covvie presence."

I looked around for a little bit more, moving from cover to cover. Just when I was about to turn around and wait for my team I heard the faint sound of rocks cracking upon one another.

Either some very small rocks had just been disturbed or the sound had come from far away. The echoes didn't allow me to immediately pinpoint its direction, but after a few seconds the sound repeated itself.

"What's that?" Corporal Young asked, his voice as deep as the rumbling of those rocks.

"Hush," I said.

There was silent for a solid thirty seconds, making me even tenser.

Then I heard the sound again, louder and closer. I turned almost completely around just in time to see a very large Scarab emerge from the peak of the mountain. It had been climbing it. I cursed silently, feeling myself blush as I did so. The Scarab then climbed down, knocking down tons and tons of rock as it slid towards the valley, right in my direction. It moved faster now that it was going down and I covered my face as the wave of dust reached me. I moved back away from it instinctively, but within seconds I felt the Scarab's legs hitting the ground closer to me. Gunny was arguing with Camilla about something, but I could see their IFFs moving closer to me and out of the tunnel. The Scarab kept moving, ignoring our presence or choosing to dismiss it. A quick sprint sideways almost had me squashed, but I succeeded in getting away from its path as the dust began settling.

"Hide," I urged them. "Now!"

None of them had to be told twice and by the time my vision was unimpeded again I could not even see my own team. The Scarab kept walking the length of the narrow valley, leaving deep furrows on the sharp slopes of the hills. I watched as it stopped at the mouth of the valley and pivoted, facing our direction. It suddenly became clear that it was blocking our exit or waiting for infantry reinforcements, but it wasn't going to move from there any time soon.

"We're going to need to take it out," Gunny said finally.

"And how are we going to do that?" Young asked. I had thought him a bit slow at first, but he was just very soft spoken, as if he chose his words with the utmost care.

"Caboose?" Pavel asked.

"We have a Spartan Laser and rockets," Grigori replied quickly. "That's all we need to disable it. We need to take out two legs at least, it's too far away to shoot a grenade into its core and the El-tee is indisposed."

"Look where it's positioned," Young countered. "We won't be able to get off good shots from this distance."

While they argued I slowly moved up the slope and into a little cave where I was protected. Finally they decided upon a plan, not a terribly complicated one, but it relied on the reactions of the brutes captaining the walker far too much for my liking. Once Grigori had carried El-tee up to my little cave and everybody had gotten to their positions I took a deep breath.

"You ready, Miri?" Gunny asked me.

"Always am," I said. "You know that."

I could see him nod through my scope. He was way too close to the Scarab.

"We go on your signal," he said.

I peeked out of cover and propped my EMR up and zoomed in on the Scarab. The range was on the edge of being extreme. I vaguely heard Young saying a quick prayer before I identified a target. I accounted for height, distance, wind, and all the other variants before shifting my aim just a little bit. I fired and watched. The shot flew exactly where it was supposed to. The brute flinched as the bullet went an inch from its head and turned around, looking close to my direction. I didn't move, instead waiting to see what was going to happen. The sound of the shot was clearly audible to me, but the suppressor on my Enhanced Marksman Rifle was still somewhat functional.

"Give it a minute," Camilla said.

We gave it just that.

El-tee stirred a little bit.

"What," he mumbled.

I didn't move.

"What?" he repeated, clearer this time.

"Quiet," I whispered, nervous.

"What?"

"Hush," I hissed in frustration.

The Scarab had begun moving this way and several jackals had moved to the top deck, scouting around for my location. I was nervous but I didn't move. I knew that I was nearly impossible to locate unless I fired again. I just dreaded the moment when that happened. I looked over my shoulder to see that El-tee hadn't moved, but his hand was now gripping the butt of his pistol loosely.

"Three hundred meters," I said finally.

"Must be nice," Camilla said, who was only a third of that distance away from the Scarab. Gunny and Grigori where even closer, with Young and his men around 150 meters away from it.

I aimed and squeezed another shot, hitting a jackal in the chest. I switched targets and aimed at a second jackal. The bird was too slow to react and lost half its brains as a consequence. The rest of the jackals, however, proved that they weren't terribly incompetent and began firing on my position, but by that point they were all caught off-guard and fell prey to my continued firing. I killed three more and a brute before taking cover.

"It's opening its cannon," Young said, mostly for my benefit.

"Good work," Gunny complimented.

"On my signal," Camilla said, followed by a short pause. "One. Two. Three. Two."

She said the numbers at irregular intervals. With every number came one shot from a SPANKr. It was carefully coordinated so that they all hit at the exact same time except for the fourth one, a safety measure. I heard one large explosion followed by a smaller secondary one before something important in the Scarab blew up. It was at that point that Camilla began charging her Spartan Laser. That was my cue to leave cover and begin firing again, buying her time for a second shot. I saw the flash of red as the laser pierced the knee joint of the rear right leg of the Scarab, nearly toppling it. Gunny and Grigori began moving, even if I couldn't see them. I merely focused on the grunts taking position on the side-mounted plasma cannons, taking them out before they could begin firing. Camilla got off her second shot, damaging the front right leg and sending the Scarab completely to the ground. I could see sparks as it tried to self-repair.

"Almost there," Gunny grunted.

I didn't see them move up, but I heard the faint echoes of Grigori's shotgun before they tossed the last of our grenades into the energy core. The Scarab began shaking and I saw several brutes try to escape, but Young and his men combined their efforts with mine in order to keep them from escaping the explosion. It took a solid minute, but the belly of the walker exploded as the plasma and fuel overheated past stable temperatures and tore the Scarab apart.

"Like clockwork," Grigori muttered, satisfied with his plan.

"What happened?" El-tee asked quietly.

"Nothing interesting," I said. "We're about to begin moving again. Can you walk?"

He nodded weakly.

I gave him his rifle back and he clutched it tightly before slinging it over his shoulders. He got up very slowly but as soon as he was back on his feet he made me feel smaller than I really was again. Even in this state he was an intimidating presence. I helped him down the slope and into the valley floor. There I met up with Young's men.

"Great job," Corporal Young said with a radiant voice, slapping my shoulder gently.

"You too," I stammered in reply. It really spoke volumes that I wasn't used to receiving compliments like that.

"Lieutenant, I see you're feeling better."

El-tee just nodded. "What's the plan of action?"

"Move past the Scarab and down past the mountains. We can probably arrange a pickup before the next ridge."

"You guys took a Scarab out?" El-tee asked.

"And all without you," Gunny said braggingly.

"Well, you might just become real Helljumpers," El-tee replied with what I could only assume was a satisfied smirk.

---

Thanks to Colonel-Commissar2468 and General TheDyingTitan for proofreading this chapter.

Well, sorry about the delay I guess. College has been fun so far, but the workload has me pretty occupied most of the time. That and this is quite likely the longest chapter I've written in over a year, but it's still not an excuse for the delayed post. If you're interested in my college life all I can say is that it is exactly like the movies. I feel safe saying that watching the latter American Pie films prepared me for this. She's the Man was also a film I watched multiple times for research. Other than that I'm having a good time, I enjoy it here.

I want to thank you all for your reviews of last chapter as well as every single review you've ever posted. They give me warm and fuzzy feelings.

Matt: I don't plan on going past Halo 3 in this fic, sorry.

I liked writing this chapter, it took too long to write and I had to go back and read it to avoid any continuity mistakes, but for the most part it was very enjoyable. Not particularly heavy on the action but still had some decent stuff in there as well as a good old-fashioned Reaper moment to satisfy our cravings. I hope that it takes you a solid while to read this chapter because I kinda feel bad for not posting in such a long time. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it immensely.

Stay strong.

-casquis