Earth
New Mombasa
2552
01945
...00
..00 !
...The counter didn't lie.
It couldn't-
Reload, reload...!
- and it did not.
The Marine holding the weapon the counter was fixed to couldn't-and didn't-hesitate. Dubbo's hands moved like...like they weren't even his. They were already going down, dipping to where his spare magazines were kept. Fingertips brushed against, and then opened the flaps of the pouches with a blur of scratching material, before they closed around the cool hardness of the magazine itself..
Now...
Now !
He grabbed it-
" GRENADE ! DODGE RIGHT, Chips ! "
A power-line electric current literally jolted him, and he convulsed a twitch- not just from the scream's loudness ( it had to be, though, to get above all the racket , but as much from what it said.
Plasma !?
Oh, God...!
But, again, even as those thoughts shot through his head quicker than flicking a light...his reflexes were even quicker, and they moved him on their own. Twisting right, he flung himself that way, pushing off with his legs using adrenaline-charged force, and curling both arms tight and snug around his helmeted head.
Slamming down onto the dusty, detritus covered floor, Dubbo wondered-just for the shortest of moments- if he'd dropped his MA5. The question came of total nowhere- and it didn't even matter anyway, because-
BWAOOOM !
-Bang went the plasma bomb !
Oven-like heat washed over the PFC's legs, and someone actually pushed them a bit- except, nobody did. The grenade did, though. It also filled his ears with a shearing ring, that echoed painfully over and over. His already high adrenaline levels skyrocketed, and frigid chills hit him so hard and so suddenly, that he convulsed again.
God- !
...
...
The world spun, and wobbled. He felt like he was made of lead...and his legs burned. Like someone had held them onto an active grill top- for a moment, he wondered if they were actually on fire. Then a reflex activated, and he actually did turn around and look, half expecting to see flames all over them-
Nothing, though. No fire.
Relief washed over him, like a gust of progenitor.
Freaking glow-booms...! That stings..!
****** !
Had he said that aloud ? Maybe. He couldn't remember...
"..Dubbo !? Dubbo ! "
...but, at least he could move, thank God.
A voice, thick with a South African accent- that voice- called to him from somewhere nearby on the right as he did, cutting through the jackhammering racket of the battle that was tearing at his eardrums.
Vikara..
" You good, mukka ?! ". She grabbed his shoulder, and bodily pulled him the rest of the way back up with some surprising strength, as someone else on the left bellowed that they were lobbing a grenade..
...as did someone else.
Good ?
Well, the Aussie's legs were still burning like they were wrapped with heated blankets, there was so much adrenaline pumping through him right now he had a hard time focusing because it was like he'd drunk a full can of Red Bull and...
He blinked. Shook his head, and crushed the pain down as much as he could, like stepping on a soda can.
Well, and he really wanted to kill some Covenant. A lot of them. A whole freaking lot of them, actually. Every last one of them that'd been so stupid to land on Earth-!
"...Yeah. Not done yet. No way...! "
By way of driving the point home, the Aussie willed himself to spring up- and both legs, aching and burning though they were- answered him. They hurt, for real, but he was fighting mad right now, and that seemed to doing the job just fine.
Why argue ? He didn't get the point.
" Damn right you're not ! Come on- we got asblik ( trash ) to deal with ! ". The Boer promptly delivered a stinging jab to Dubbo's shoulder, as her expression turned to one of fierce determination.
The same one Dubbo knew so well...and loved.
" Ha. That's mocking actual trash ! ", he responded, as he sprang up alongside her, gripping his MA5 firmly with both hands.
" Get the lead out..! "
Running ahead, almost careening with troubled legs, Dubbo kept up with Vikara, and he made it back to the firing line with her- which was every bit as frenzied as when he'd left. He skidded to a halt on the cool cobalt-colored marble slab floor, as the endless sheets and clusters of plasma, Needler rounds , and God-knew what whipped past overhead, with some of them skimming past the pedestrian bollard that he'd now hunkered down behind to burrow themselves through the floor , leaving smoking craters behind.
The sheer noise of all the aliens guns- heck of the Human guns answering that lethal barrage- was as loud as ever. It made the world feel different- constantly vibrating, pulsating...like you were getting shaken around by a giant's hand...
...and that there were bad guys to kill. A whole bucketload of 'em.
" ..Suppressing..! "
Vikara's yell rose over the roar of the fight, as did the accompanying roar of her M739 SAW machine gun. The racket of that beast was like a supernova off to Dubbo's right, and as he leaned slightly out of cover to line up a shot of his own, he watched as a whole enemy squad- 5 Grunts, and 2 Brutes, fresh through the front sliding doors and juuuust about to clear the security checkpoint- get staggered and thrown off balance by the flurry of 7.62mm rounds.
Shields sparked on the hulking space gorillas, and the stumpy tank-breathers had their chests torn open, spilling cyan blood everywhere.
By then, Dubbo had already opened fire himself, adding more 7.62mm death to the mix. On his MA5's ammo counter, the 32 wound down like lightning, but the Aussie could only keep one eye on it- he had to watch his shots.
Had to be sure they were hitting home.
And they were- one of the grunts of that squad died as he blew its head clean off. Tracers from what he knew to be Vikara's gun gutted another- literally- and finally cracked the shields of one of the Brutes...
" Brute shield, down ! Light him up ! "
...who would up dancing like a barefoot beach lover on Bondi Beach during February, as soon as the rest of the squad saw he was now under-dressed, and straight up hosed him down with every bullet they had loaded. Blood sprayed out from dozens of holes, and with a long, primal bellow, the Brute went down like an axed tree.
The grunts were nearly crushed underneath, and it only terrified them even more.
Two of them covered their heads with their spiny arms, only to get shot a second later. Another flailed both of hands over his head...and was shot as well. The last two somehow gained a spark of courage-or madness, more like, because they then did what Grunts had a habit of doing when their commanders died on them: They promptly grabbed plasma grenades off their utility belts, lit them, and then began to rush the Marines while screaming like banshees, leaving streaks of white light behind them.
Dubbo killed one, who was blasted into fleshy ribbons when his grenades blew. Vikara unleashed what had to be a taunt in Afrikaans as she blew up the other.
Whashh !
Wasshhh !
As the plasma exploded, the searing whiteness hid the doors behind them for a split second- but then it was gone. On either side, more Grunts and Brutes kept pressing their attack, with the apes forcing the stumpier aliens up front to die first, while spraying down the humans with an endless rain of spikes.
One of them barely missed burrowing through Dubbo's helmet, as he rolled back to cover. His rifle had just clacked dry, and now he had to grip it one handed while feverishly fishing around through his chest rig for a new mag.
All while the spikes did not let up.
' Jeez, they're laying it on thick..! '
' Why am I even surprised-?! '
"...hit ! Chakam's hit ! "
"Geeeaghh...! "
Something had happened- on the left, now. A piercing, throat-burning yell burst from somewhere on the other side of the bollard cluster that way...
Where Chakam's fireteam was..
" Agghhha...son of a...!
Dubbo's training-gifted reflexes didn't let him stop the reload process, but twin searing bolts of rage and worry shot through him anyway. Chakram wasn't exactly his best buddy on Earth, but he was a solid Leatherneck, and a great card player. Getting taken out by Spikes was one hell of a nasty way to go, and nobody short of the guys using them deserved to go out because of them.
Damn it...!
Not that way, God. Not that way. I know you're listening, the Aussie prayed, as he slammed another dose of bullet where they belonged, yanked the charging handle almost roughly, and then rolled out to let the lead fly once again.
He wanted to look right now. He wanted to check right now, but he couldn't. The fight wasn't over.
The enemy still needed to die. Molars clenching with fresh hate, he lifted his weapon...right as a Grunt ran across his crosshairs, brandishing a pair of lit plasma grenades.
Dubbo killed him. White blue explosions consumed the body like a cottonball to a campfire, which was too good for the Covie, but at least he was dead and gone.
Even better, the twin detonations had rocked the Brute that was following the would-be suicide bomber, putting him off balance for a blink- long enough for Dubbo to seize the opening. He dipped his right hand down, felt about till it closed around the comforting roundness of a frag grenade...
Tearing the pin loose, he let it soar. A long, juddering blast from Vikara's SAW lashed out as he did, painting the ape with bloody craters. Spiker rounds shot back out, and the Aussie felt a room-spinning-ly hard slap to where his helmet began to slope down over his head.
What the- ?!
He was tossed like a doll- but the frag had already left his hand by then, God be praised, and he'd barely even smacked down onto the slabs before-
BWAMM !
" GWOOOOOAR-! "
...boom went the dynamite.
" Good for you, ya drongo. ! ", Dubbo yelled. For just a moment, he could let himself get a tad crazy...
" You nearly blew my head off...! First my legs, now this...! "
Gonna make 'em pay, though..!
He was bent on doing more of that now. Sure, he now had a ( probable concussion ), judging from how he'd taken two whacks to the dome within seconds of each other ( and felt like it too, with everything ringing and aching ), but all the noxious adrenaline was still surging through him. He still felt like he could move and fight, and when he forced himself to leap up-
- he did. Dazed like he'd just woken up, and slightly off balance like he'd jumped off a spinning turbine, but he could still stand, move, and pull a trigger..
No way was he done. Not yet.
Even better, he hadn't lost his rifle-it'd only been knocked a few millimeters away, and he'd already grabbed it, with the ammo counter blazing ' 28 '.
' Good...'
' Plenty of heat to spare.."
" What the hell, Chips !? You got tagged and didn't tell me ?! ", accused Vikara, as the Aussie returned to her position, while she labored to feed a new ammo drum to her SAW. " You're just a freaking magnet ! "
" No kidding ! ", Dubbo agreed. Dropping to a knee, he shouldered the MA5...
" Their aim suck on that go-around, though ! "
...yanked the charging handle...
..and found a Brute struggling to stand.
' Ohh...that whump was a frag going off !
Nice toss, whoever that was. I'll take care of this.
Unless-
Yep. Right as he loosed his first bullet, a whole lot of them spat from the SAW gunner nearby. Blood sprayed like holding one's thumb over a faucet from the ape's throat, as a burst caught him there, stopping his own death gurgle cold.
" Gruaaalgh-! "
...Stole my kill !
You owe me for that..!,, he promised, as he then walked his sights around for a new mark- and found it seconds later when a Jackal ran out from behind another Brute that was coming through the bollards. The silly beak had exposed his flank, with that annoying-as-sin shield his kind always carried held at the wrong angle to do any good. Dubbo didn't waste a second, and lit him up.
With a undignified squawk, the beak flopped forward, dead. The Brute , meanwhile, didn't appear to care whatsoever- which was absolutely on brand for an ape. He just kept charging, spewing Spiker rounds with vicious abandon.
Like it wasn't even his own thought to do so, Dubbo switched to him next. Vikara did the same, judging from the ever-deafening song of that M739 now foucsed on the ape, alongside the Aussie's MA5. Yet more 7.62mm death pelted the Brute, and yet more blood came spraying out...
So much of that stuff...so much..
How can he survive that...?!
Just...die !
...He'd reached that point during any fight now.
That one.
The one where...your thoughts about what was happening flashed through your mind as quick as thoughts were, but then, just as quickly...they were gone again. Just like that, because you'd finally gotten pulled through that...groove, so to speak. Not thinking, just reacting: Find a target, take it down, then reload and find another. Don't stay out of cover for long, stay low...and do it all again. Your hands knew what to do without getting told, and if you got hit, there was a chance you might not even know...till someone pointed it out.
...That, and you really began wanting a drink. Something fierce...and right around when your whole body began to ache all over from the rigor you were putting it through, and just as badly.
You had dig deep with your own fighting drive to push through. There was no other choice- it was that, or die.
...They don't quit, do they...?, Dubbo couldn't help but noice, as he withdrew behind cover for the God-knew-how-many-th time, which was a tad slower than the last. Out the corner of his left field of view, he saw- and heard- Vikara yell profusely with Afrikaans words, as her SAW suddenly stopped.
" She's tapped out ! ", she yelled at the Aussie, glancing his way. " Goin' for my M6 ! "
Setting the big gun down, she did exactly that- drew her Magnum, went prone, and began slamming 12.7mm bullets at the screaming aliens who wouldn't stop rushing them.
clack..!
Dubbo slammed his magazine home. It was the last one he had...
Was it this bad everywhere...?
We've been here long enough for it...I think. Can't really be sure, though...
Screw it. Last bullet it is, then.
" Cap'n ! Rifle's empty, and I got no clips ! Got a spare ?! "
Geez..!
Haran...?!
Gordan O'Haran. The Irish Jarhead Dubbo had met only this morning, with the burn on his neck left by getting grazed by a plasma bolt. The one holding down the Aussie's left..
He'd run dry as well ?
That made 3...which, was bad, sure, but there was plenty of them left. 3 wasn't that bad. They'd been here for an hour, but it wasn't bad.
Yet...
" Just one ! Here ! You damn well better put 'em to good use ! ", Korsan responded, as Dubbo sighted down once again. A Grunt scampered toward him, and was promptly shot dead.
And then another.
" Ma'am ! I need more biofoam for Chakram..! "
Two more Grunts died by Dubbo's bullets, as the Corpsman asked their CO for more meds. A Jackal cocked his arm to throw a plasma grenade, but Dubbo killed him as well, as 12.7mm slugs blew out the left eye of a Brute that was trailing the beak- a borderline trick shot.
" Roger that ...! "
" Dubbo ! Vikara ! On me, now ! "
" Now ! Loski, McDanno..cover their positions !"
Like an electric current running through him, the order had snapped Dubbo to attention- even though it was right at the moment he was blowing the head off a Grunt, running his ammo counter down to 14...
" Now, people ! Now ! "
Another electric shock for Dubbo. He blinked, and pulled back a bit...as a plasma bolt zipped past him with a violent sizzling sound . It was nothing more than a blue-white blur, fizzing and sparkling-vrishhhhh-out of control, and so close that he felt its furnace-like heat even through his helmet. His right cheek felt clammy and hot all of a sudden...
If it'd hit...
...but, the fight was not done, and that's why he just shot back. No room for dwelling, just fighting.
All the while, he was burning through that ammo..
" Yes, ma'am ! ". Vikara's M6 boomed twice more, then stopped. Dubbo watched as his ammo counter finally hit 0...just as the umpteenth grunt of the day collapsed with a wild spray of of cyan blood, fleshy chunks, and a boatload of wailing.
" Chips ! Hey, chips ! Move your ass, blisken ( jerk ) ! "
A fist impacted Dubbo's right shoulder, as pounding, clacking steps on the granite shot past him headed left.
The Afrikaans Sheila was way ahead of him, beating feet over to Korsan. There was nothing Dubbo could do, but follow.
Orders were orders, after all. Besides, the other guys-Loski and McDanno- were already closing on his 20, with their BR55HBs held tight, and fight all over their faces, plain as day. They were ready...
Dubbo pushed himself up. His legs still aches, but not quite as bad anymore...or, maybe that was his imagination. Could easily be, but either way, it wasn't a problem- because he caught up to Vikara after another second. A few more of those later, with plasma, Spikes, and Needles still whipping through the air over their heads ( or just behind/ or between them ) , leaving just millimeters to spare at worst, or blowing chunks and chips out of the granite like they were made of wood. For the handful of seconds it took to cover the handful of yards, Dubbo decided it might as well be running the length of the Sydney Harbor Bridge back home..
Miss, you morons..!
Miss, miss, miss...
Miraculously...they did.
The Aussie and the Afrikaner made it, coming to another skidding, crouching stop at Korsan's brass-casing-riddled, plasma-scarred, grimy mess of a 20.
Emphasis on the " mess " bit. The Captain had set herself up at a horseshoe-shaped strongpoint at the center of the battle line that stretched across the top of the sweepingly wide, grandiosely decorated station lobby stairs. It was ringed with ASs ( Absorption Sacks )- modern day " sandbags " that were filled with a compound that was designed to be twice as absorbent against bullets as sand, and not spill everywhere when breached by them. Not shockingly, the rank and file had tossed that name away, and come up with one of their own: " Ass Packs ".
A riot, maybe, but they actually seemed to have worked: the AS packs were more black and charred then dark green and not, but the barricade was still standing...for now. At its base and all over the floor behind it, lay empty canteens, ammo cans, used biofoam canisters...and puddles of blood.
It was a badly abused fortress. One the Covenant had thrown everything but the kitchen sink at, judging from the dead Brute draped like a hideous bath mat over the barricade's edge.
Dark red...human blood. Beside which, lay several Marines, off-white, soaked bandages wrapped and tied over wounds, heads lolled over. Whether they were alive or not, Dubbo couldn't tell. His own blood chilled anyway though...
But...thankfully, he didn't have to focus on it for long. Not by choice, though, because-
" Reporting, Captain...! ", Vikara announced.
...Yeah. That. Still on the clock.
That was fine, though. They were Marines. This is what they were for.
Dubbo nodded briskly. " Ditto, ma'am ! "
The officer they were speaking to had been preoccupied with...well, given how much literal blood there was on her hands, the phrase " Doing everything humanly possible to keep Chakram from dying " came to mind. The attending Corpsman- Huvas, that was his name, Dubbo finally remembered- was across from the officer, with both of them crouched over the fallen Marine, and the Navy cautiously pulling off a badly soaked bandage wrap.
He didn't react- didn't say a word or give a hint that they were there. His patient was his only concern, and he'd made what he needed to save him clear.
Korsan, though, was different. Her head came up, and she caught their attention at once. Dubbo was shocked to see a long, furious looking red scar that traced itself across her right cheek, nearly to her ear. The whip-long gash was weeping blood, leaving rivulets down a grimy ( but, somehow still pretty ) face, to then drip off her jawline.
Had to be a Needler near miss. No doubt-
"...You made it. Thank God..."
Her voice was a jumbled mess of..a lot of things. Needing a drink something fierce, rage at her Marines- and the soldiers who'd been left with no choice but to join them- getting lit up and burned by Covenant fire, and a need to just lie down for a few hours. It was all there...and it all made sense.
" Ready, able, and willing, Captain ! ", the Aussie assured her.
But she wasn't done. Dubbo still saw fight in those eyes.
" Where do you need us, Ma'am !? ", the Aussie asked. " Just point the way, and we're gone ! "
By way of response, Korsan pointed behind her, and didn't squander a second. " Head down to the armory. Fetch some BioFoam...3 canisters... and bring it here ! On the double quick, Marines...go ! "
And...just like that. Orders were given...and well, orders were given. Crisply, efficiently, and rationally.
Just. Like. That.
The noise of the battle that was still raging like a hurricane just a frag grenade's toss away and beating at their ears like a drum. One of her guys was down and she was literally dripping with his blood while fighting to save his life...and she could still focus on things enough to give orders without losing her cool.
Sure, it was a juggling act...but she was handling it.
What a boss.
Screw feminists. This is real..
" Yes, Captain ! ". The Aussie nodded again.
...And, just like that, the Marine that he was wouldn't tolerate just standing around and thinking adoring thought while there were orders to carry out-
" We're on it, Captain ! ", affirmed a South African accent.
Unsurprisingly, Vikara was thinking the same thing, because less than a second late, she was up, turning toward where the Captain had pointed, and pounding tile, and with a purpose. She was like a Springbok out of the gate, sprinting back and toward the right-hand side of the arched, slope-sided reception desk at the lobby's rear.
One more half second, and she'd be yelling at Dubbo to catch up. This go around, though...the Aussie refused to give her the satisfaction.
A distant shout of a plasma grenade threat headed their way carved through the air form...somewhere, as Dubbo turned to follow the SAW gunner. Underfoot, the smooth floor screeched and squealed under his soles, and he hunched his shoulders tight, accelerating to a full-tilt run while cradling his rifle with both hands.
A voice at the back of his head screamed that he was about to soak up a plasma bolt through the back...or a Needle...or both. It was stifled nearly at once by his optimistic side, but...he heard it anyway. Not that it mattered..
..because by now, he'd matched pace with Vikara, and they were beating feet through the sliding auto-doors that led deeper through the NMPD HQ tower. There was just enough space for them to go through together...and then, it was down a long, wide corridor lined with offices , with overhead high-powered fluorescent lights- only some of which were actually still online, giving the corridor an eerie flickering, shadowy lightshow.
" Remember where the elevator is ?! ". Vikara's breathing was heavy and coming fast as she ran, but not strained- she was too fit for that.
" Hook a right...then dead ahead ! "
Dubbo applied a thin layer of spit over his lips- they were cracked and dry from a long stretch of heavy action without water. But, he answered anyway. "...Roger that ! "
No need to yell anymore, at least...
Barely were the words out of his mouth, though-
Out of the blue, the floor shuddered- hard.
And the walls...and ceiling. The whole world just...vibrated and shook like you were standing on a rug that someone had tugged out from under you. The Leathernecks had no chance- they were thrown down to their knees, nearly getting laid out across the tiles like tossed rag-dolls, with their armor clacking roughly and audibly off the rock solid ground.
krck,krck, krck !
clakk !
There was the unmistakable sound of an MA5 bouncing away, and by pure reflex, Dubbo mentally chewed himself out for it. He could already hear his DI wringing his neck like a roll of bubble wrap for such a stupid, butterfingers moment...!
"...Agh..! "
He'd actually dropped his rifle !
Are you serious ?! You klutz...?!
That might've gone off...!.
Good lord. He could already hear his old DI-freaking Gunny Tesri-tearing him to nothing but bloody ribbons for something like that-along with every other mistake that barely even qualified as one...which was probably why he was as grateful as ever that he'd blanked that monster's name from had enough fire coming right at his face from all those Covenant guns without thinking of the verbal kind from way back when. Which had actually been kind of worse.
Thankfully, though...the MA5 hadn't let off a round, and Dubbo mentally gave thanks for it. All he needed to do know was just grab it..
" Adrianne !
Well, that and checking on Vikara, obviously...
He could multitask a tad when he had to, after all...
" Hey...Arianne ! ", called the Aussie, as he scrambled back up on both legs, while fighting off another round of achy, throbbing pain all over where he'd gone down. " Sound off, Marine ! "
" ******! "
Another long, and especially angry sounding burst of Afrikaans sounded from the Aussie's right, as he finally got upright again. Promptly turning that way, his gaze swept first across his- aha ! - MA5 lying just a spit away...and a rather annoyed South African regaining her footing with a scowl on her face and a fire lighting her eyes.
"...What. Was. That ?! "
" Heck if I know ! ". The Australian couldn't even begin to hide his confusion- and honestly, he didn't even want to.
How could he, anyway ? After all, after a blast like that ? Dubbo had been on the receiving end of blastwaves before, sure, but...nothing like this. It'd been like an honest-to-God MOAB ( Mother of All Bombs ) had been dropped right next door !
..Did the Air Force actually do it, though ? No. Couldn't have been. It'd be a severe breach of Danger Close protocols, even with a Covenant army breathing down the necks of friendlies.
Questions burning through his mind, Dubbo pressed on regardless. Racing forward, he reached and then swept up his MA5, watching out the corner of his view as Vikara did the same for her dropped M6.
" Wasn't a shelling, or there'd be more..", Vikara noted, as she double-checked her M6 within a second or so.
" Kinda sounded it came from the outside, doncha think ? Covies want to bring this place down on our bloody heads ! "
...Bring it down...
...Bring it down...?
As suddenly as that unexpected earthshaker a few seconds ago had been...those few words filled Dubbo's blood with ice. Pure, Antarctic ice, along with a shudder that rolled up and down his back. Capping it all off...was just the quickest of flickers of that tunnel..
Coober Pedy. 3 years before he signed up.
No.
No.
Not now...
...
...Not, now.
It was hard to be sure which was more jarring-getting reminded of that from out of nowhere...or Vikara as the one who brought it up. Not her fault, though- Dubbo hadn't told her. He didn't want to- it would just complicate things between them.
Someday, he had to. Someday.
Had to survive this one first, though.
" Sounds like it ", Dubbo agreed, still suppressing the last of the thoughts related to that place.
" All the more reason to hustle the frick up. We gotta move, and we gotta move now. "
" *** a , we go ! ", agreed the Afrikaaner. " Let's go ! ***king Covies owe me for slamming me down on my double-D's..!"
...Well, damn !
"...Can't let the goods get damaged, eh ?! "
More grateful for another opportunity to kick some ass, save a fellow Jarhead's life ( and , when this was all over...have those D's all to himself again, as was usual for them when ever they got the chance to be alone ) Dubbo shouldered his MA5, and set off again at a run-but even quicker than earlier...if that was even possible. Might not be, but between them probably about to get outright slagged, and the chance that the Covenant had them already dialed down for that...well, even more reason to hurry up.
The clock was already ticking like a bomb already...but now it'd been supercharged.
So, on they went, pounding down the hall. A tad more sore here and there, and with probably way too much adrenaline going through their veins, but they kept going.
Soon enough, they made it to the hallways' end...and were greeted by the only-recently familiar sight of the building's bank of Mag-Rail elevators, their activation and running lights glowing a pale, but strong shade of green.
The fastest elevators ever designed. Like the bullet train...but, going vertical. There was no way the NMPD HQ could function without them, given that it was well over 100 stories tall, and topped out at around 2,000 ft. tall. Anyone even walking slowly up that many stairs would die from exhaustion, and regular elevators would only be turned to rust by long it'd take to cover that much height...so, mag-rails it was.
Granted though...that was mostly for going up- and not while someone was shooting at you. Kind of like how it was always said to be a bad idea to use the elevators if there was a fire...pretty much. One good shot would kill the power, and you'd be trapped like a rat, ready for the Split-Chins to pry it open and drop some plasma grenades as a going-away present.
No thanks. Stairs may be slower, but they didn't have that weakness. Besides, it was barely a stone's toss away- just a skip and a jump, basically.
" Ok...right or left ?! ", asked Dubbo, as they closed on the row of turbo-lifts.
He raised a hand, waving it at the two separate well that sat on either end of the banks, with both of them leading down to the station's depths.
" Right ? "
" Sure...why not !? ", replied the South African, sounding like she was perfectly down for both. " Long as we get down there yesterday...! "
Good point...
Ah...might as well go-
"...Right it is, then ! ". Dubbo swerved , and made a beeline for it.
Vikara stayed with him, and they zipped across the oval-shaped, chandelier ( a freaking chandelier ?! )-adorned atrium that sat before the bank of Maglevs.
Reaching the top of the 'well, they began taking the steps as quick as they could, going from one to one so quick, they nearly ended up jumping down several at once. Before long, though, Dubbo found himself airborne, coming down hard on a landing after clearing 3 at once...
Woah...!
Geez, that could've gone bad...
" Hey, watch out ! ", Vikara scolded. " You split your skull when the Covies shoot it, and nowhere else ! "
" Falling behind, sweetheart...! "
Dubbo returned fire, and didn't even slow down. He knew better to-becasue she'd just take that as a sign he didn't think she could keep up.
" We got a Marine dyin' on us, remember ? That biofoam's not gonna walk up these steps on it own ! "
" Don't even pretend I forgot about him...!", protested the SAW gunner. " But I don't want to haul all that B-Foam back up on my own..."
" You won't. ", Dubbo assured her, as he rounded another corner of the well, and began another downward sprint.
" Watch me go: You won't "
By now, both Leathernecks were badly missing the loss of Comms.
Something fierce. Aside from heavy armor reinforcements, or a shipping container full of cold-water canteens...a Spartan, maybe ? Pipe dream on that last one, granted, but maybe not the others. Any of them would be a sweet , sweet gift...along with getting Comms back.
Covies had killed it a while back, leaving runners as the only real way to shuttle orders and updates around. To be honest...Dubbo found that more scary than anything else, because...he didn't know what had happened to Gunny Buck.
The ODST who'd been shepherding him and Dekker through this wreck of a city. And doing a good job it as well- maybe too good.
Because, not long after they got here, Captain Korsan had basically poached the ODST to command the defense of the parking garage...and had sent Dekker with him. None of that had been good with Dubbo, but he knew it'd be a dumb call to even slightly complain about it. A PFC just did not win an argument with a Captain...much as he might think- know- that it sucked to have his buddy and a Sergeant who absolutely lived up to what a Sergeant was supposed to be getting assigned to where he wasn't shoulder to shoulder with them...well, neither of those sat right with an Aussie digger-and any digger worth his salt was a team player who valued sticking by his mates.
If all the combat upstairs had done anything, it'd forced him to stay focused on all the plasma whipping by his face, though. Sure, that's what he was signed up for, and that was fine, but...he hated doing it without Dekkard and Gunny Buck. He couldn't actively think about it, sure...but his back-of-mind kept nagging him anyway, demanding answers.
Now...he had a chance to get them. And, save the life of another Leatherneck along the way.
" Alright ! We're here..ay..! "
Vikara triumphantly pointed at the doors just off to the right of where the well had led them. Heavy swinging ones that could be run on power, or not, they sported the words " Arms and Munitions " above them , as orange block letters on a grey background.
" Long as they're still stocked up, we're good...! "
" Should be, yeah ". Dubbo felt a flicker of fresh optimism, and he welcomed it. " If the Covies haven't been hitting them as hard down here as up there..."
" Think positive, ay ! ", Vikara encouraged, and sounded like it. Her Afrikaans side came out stronger the more excited ( or mad ) she got, and right now...the former had jsut gotten a surge.
" Just got to make this a snap-get the meds, maybe some ammo for my SAW, and Bob's your uncle ! "
Dubbo did actually have an uncle by that name, which was why he'd always found that phrase to be a riot whenever he heard it- even now ! Only for a fleeting second, but it was there. He kept it to himself for the moment, though, as he and Vikara reached the armory doors, which was guarded by a pair of heavily armed Marines.
Treio. Jaken. Dubbo automatically read off their name tabs. It was the one habit he'd gotten hooked on after joining the Corps, and it tended to prove handy...like now.
Both of the Jarheads, granted, didn't look like they'd just come out of an hour plus of mixing it up face to face with a whole Covenant battalion- no streaks of grime, blast marks across their armor, the random scratch or cut from a Needler's round near miss...nothing. Only explanation for that was the aliens hadn't made here...yet.
Emphasis on yet.
Gotta keep it that way...!
" Hey- what's the word up there ?! ", asked Treio, visibly tightening the grip on his M45 shotgun. " Whole building just shook down to the foundation ! "
" Trust me, mukkas- we know ! ". Vikara nodded toward the doors behind them. " But its still standing, and we got a Marine upstairs who's gonna die without more BioFoam ! Orders from Captain Korsan...!"
Dubbo hit the safety on his MA5, and slung it over his right shoulder as he led Vikara to a stop before them.
" Yeah- you heard her, boys ! Get them open, and do it yesterday ! Come on ! ".
He let the urgency flow, and it did its job perfectly. The Marines on guard stiffened reflexively, cottoning onto the weight of what the Australian had told them. No doubt they still had a lot of questions on their minds about...everything ( ie, the building rattling like a chew toy, how bad things upstairs were, and if anyone was coming to bail them out ), but...they were smart enough to grasp there was no room on the clock for chinwagging about it right now.
Proving the point, Jaken blinked, but then spun on his heel, and stepped over to the doors, before pounding on it with a fist.
" Hey ! Look alive, Rezda- we got runners from the Atrium out here ! "
" Got that ?! Runners from the top ! They need some BioFoam cannisters, and Ammo ! "
For a moment, there was just quiet. Only for a moment though, because less than half a second later-
"..Roger that ! One second...! ", called out a female voice
There was a mild humming sound, and then the door smoothly slid open, revealing a short, round faced woman wearing NMPD Patrol armor...but armed with a UNSC-issued BR55HB. Her expression was openly alert and focused, mostly... but there was a pretty clear edging of recently-shocked-stemming tension around it on top.
The boom, right ?
Yeah, I get it. We're wondering the same thing...
" Hey..."
Quickly nodding a greeting to the Leatherneck guards, she turned to the new ones, sizing them up. " They said you need...BioFoam ? "
" And 7.62mm ", Dubbo clarified. " Lots of it. All you can spare, and yesterday. "
Do not tell me they're tapped out on that already...
There's no way.
No way, he resolved to himself...doing his best to ignore that could easily be wishful thinking, and nothing else.
Thankfully, though, after less than another second of standing on pins and needles...
"...Yeah, sure thing ! Come on- this way ! "
With the red carpet thus rolled out, Rezda turned away, beckoning the others to follow.
They did without a word, following her across the gap, and entering what had been an armory...but, not so much anymore.
Well, technically it still was, but-
...God.
What a beehive !
It was the first thought that jumped though Dubbo's head...but, he didn't doubt it made sense after even a quick glance at this place.
That, and the noise of this place . From wall to wall, there was something making some kind of racket- the razor sharp and distinctive click-clack of weapon actions getting opened and closed, the squawk and crackle of radios getting turned on and tuned, mixed along haphazardly with the overlapping hubbub of raised voices...
"...mags done over here ! "
" Hey, what's the word on that grenade resupply..?! "
Nobody was whispering. Nobody sounded hesitant- every last one of them sounded like...well, they sounded like there was a Covenant Army coming down on them and literally beating at the walls. That kind of danger just...tuned your vocal cords like you were a guitar , and all without your own control. Your flight or flight subroutines just activated
After an hour plus of housing a mixed bag of Army GIs and Marines, the long, rectangular room had become more of an one-stop-shop of a whole Firebase, but within 4 walls. There was everything from cases of firearms ammo, to cases of- God be praised- Biofoam, piled and stacked kind of haphazardly...but it was the kind of haphazard that had been by someone who was rushing, but wanted to hide it. On nearby tables extra canteens had been pulled from storage by someone, and placed there next to mounds of energy bars- a makeshift commissary, and given that there were no MRE's around, there was a chance someone might actually eat it. Or would keep doing it...judging from the wrappers that were scattered around..
There were at least a dozen personnel here- Police Officers, Marines, and a few soldiers. All of them were carrying around guns that needed both hands- mostly shotguns- and all of them were...doing things. Everyone was busy, either hurrying past from one table to another, or leaning over one making use of what was on it with focused, but slightly jerky movements...like they were distracted by something that had them on edge.
Once again...the building just danced..!
Calling it now..
Heads came around to watch the newcomers as they entered. Not all of them, but the ones who weren't up to both elbows with refilling magazines or topping off canteens all devoted their undivided attention...for a moment or so, anyway.
Then...they went right back to business. It didn't wait for anyone. They might not be on the edge of the battle line where the plasma was thick enough to chew on, but everyone here knew it could reach them. Maybe...if said line collapsed. If they couldn't be up there shoring it up, then they'd do the critical backstage stuff to keep it standing strong.
It was that, or die. Everyone knew that was the only rule that mattered with the Covenant.
Rezna led them on, weaving through the chaos. They stopped by the table with the Biofoam canisters, and without missing a beat and with a single fluid motion, the NMPD officer swept up 2 of them from where they sat as a group, before turning toward the Leathernecks, and offering them.
" This is all we can spare...I pray its enough. "
How bad was Chakram hit ? How much of that desperately needed blood that literally nobody could survive without had he already lost ?
...Was he even still alive , even now ?
By sheer autonomy, those questions flooded Dubbo's head- he couldn't help it, again. Sure, he certainly hadn't forgotten why he was down here...but he hadn't been thinking if he'd fail, or how bad things might be back where he left. He'd been thinking of the objective, not if or not he could get it done...
But, now...staring at the canisters themselves- the hints of doubt began showing up. Just some hints, but they sent chills frosting through him.
Fighting off the mental shudder, Dubbo nodded, and reached out to accept the Foam. " Thanks. He might pull through because of this.."
Rezna exhaled, biting her lower lip. " God willing, yeah...".
She knows...
Mostly, getting shot by the Covennat doesn't leave you that badly hurt. It just leaves you dead.
At least there's always a chance, though. Maybe not always great, but...its there.
Thankfully, Vikara spoke up then.
Vikara spoke up. " Ditto on that. We owe ya, and we don't forget ", she stated.
" But...still need some ammo for my SAW. Yesterday... "
For no reason, Dubbo found a tug of a smile at the corner of his mouth. It was so utterly random, and it didn't make any sense at all...expect, for maybe...that the South African's determination to get re-armed was only going to lead to one thing: A LOT of dead Covenant. The aliens had harmed a lot of Marines today, Chakram one of them, and though they were gonna do everything and then some to save him, and he sure wasn't out of the game yet- as long as they had a shot at it, they had a reason to spill Covenant blood by the bucketload.
Yeah...he'd be ok. But the Covies would still pay.
Woman loving guns is a morale booster...
How weird is that ?
Eh...probably normal.
" Hm ? Oh, sure, sure. I can give you about...50 rounds. "
Dubbo blinked- that wasn't the square peg to his round hole of thinking that he'd been expecting, for sure.
That, or the number of rounds that could be spared being just 50..
50 ?!
"...Fif- ? "
Vikara had been on the verge of shouting, but caught herself at the last moment. It was an impressive achievement, and Dubbo would've kissed her for it had they not been on the clock.
Kinda cute, actually.
"...Fifty ?! ", exclaimed the Gunner. Not as loud as earlier, but she was stunned nonetheless. " One mag holds 100...! "
" Trust me, I know ". Reza held up a placating, but unyielding hand, with sympathy now entering her tone. " I know, but we're more hard up for bullets than anything else. The BioFoam's only keeping because the kind of wounds the Covenant hand out don't leave you hurt...mostly. They leave you dead. "
...Called it !
Good God. Called it. Wish it wasn't so, but that'd be a freaking lie if I said it wasn't..
True though it might've been, they'd pretty much taken care of it with the newly found B-Foam, but the SAW gunner was still all tapped out. She hadn't forgotten about Chakram, but she still had a job to do..
" 4 words: I was at Tribute ", responded Vikara.
It might've been just 4 words, but each dripped with...ice. None directed toward the Officer though. Dubbo knew, however:
The Covenant. It was always the Covenant. For just a moment, she went back there- but, at least Dubbo was here to help.
He squeezed her hand, taking it for just long enough to do it. He knew that always made a difference to her, and with even just tinge of how she'd stiffened up now fading away, Dubbo knew he was still right .
Easy, love.
You don't have to remember that cluster.
Not if there's another way..
Rezna, as well, seemed to get she'd touched a nerve- or, maybe she'd actually gotten someone to put salt on the wound by reflex. " ..I...I heard about that. Didn't mean to remind you. "
"..Yeah...well...its not as if you're the one who dropped plasma bombs on packed Civvie transports while they were groundside.. "
Vikara exhaled- air though clenched teeth. She shook her head, face tightened...
" Not your fault. 50 rounds beats nothing-I'll take it. Should've said that from the get go...its just getting heavy up there right now. "
The NMPD officer nodded, aware that wasn't anything more she could or should say. Not after hearing about...that.
But, as for doing something, that was something else.
" Then I'll do what I can for you: Those 50 rounds ? All yours ", Rezna firmly promised.
" Right this way..."
With that, she set off again, and the Marines were quick to follow.
They headed deeper through the makeshift FOB...
...and things didn't calm down any less.
More Marines, soldiers, and Officers came their way headed elsewhere, and again, wove around. One Jarhead stormed past carrying an M7 SMG with one hand, and a C5 " Blow Pack " with the other, while off on the left- just past the doors on that side- a pair of blast-marked-covered Soldiers came through them, with an officer getting carried between them who had clearly taken a plasma bolt clean through one leg.
Said officer looked like she was still dazed and confused from whatever amount of B-Foam they'd surely already given her, but she was still awake, at least. One of the soldiers yelled out...calling Rezna by name.
" Lt. ! Hey, Lt., we got anymore room back there ?! "
...Back where- ?
It took less than a second for the Officer leading them to process that- and somehow, Dubbo wasn't all that shocked. She'd been keeping her herself together pretty good all along, but even so...Dubbo was impressed.
She was no panic case- that was clear as day.
"...Yes- take her to MedCorner ! ", the Officer directed.
..Med-
Oh- they're treating casualties here ?!
Dubbo found himself glancing around- and didn't have to do it for long, because a moment later-
" Gangway, gangway...! "
The trio cross their path, going as quick as the Soldiers dared to move their charge. Dubbo glanced the way they'd gone...
...and that provided some answers.
Now he understood: The room was more of an L-shape than a rectangle...yes, now it was clear.
The long section was where all the gear and ammo was being organized and handed out, and as for this new L-hook-
...It was a hospital now. Of sorts, at least.
At least half a dozen-judging from a glance- patients lay there, arranged roughly as a U shape. Two of them were sitting up against the walls...so, at least they weren't that bad off. Others, though, lay utterly still...most with a medic/Corpsman crouched beside them.
Hopefully, they weren't about to get flooded-
" Ok- let's move ! You're gonna need those rounds ! "
Tearing his gaze away from the improvised aid station, Dubbo followed the sound of Rezna's shout, and found her hurrying up to where another table was practically groaning under the weight of what had to be all the ammo left anywhere the station !
A dozen ammo cases of rifle caliber ammo- a blend of UNSC-issued cases, and NMPD ones. 7.62mm, .50cal, 6.8mm...all of them. Just a quick look alone was enough to know this was a true stockpile...
...but, sadly...not enough of one to shell out more than 50 rounds at a time, though. Dubbo still wasn't fully sold on it- there seemed to be so much of the stuff here !
Saying so was on the tip of his tongue, but he knew better than to say word that wouldn't get anything done, as Rezna grabbed one of the boxes- marked as having a capacity of 100 rounds, which made the 50 limit even more depressing- and handed to Vikara.
" Hate to do this, but I had to slash the amount. No more than 50- we're getting even more runners from the lower levels fetching more ammo for the battle line down there..", she confessed. " I know I said so before, but again...you need to know I'd give more if I could. "
Clearly not thrilled about this, but understanding there was nothing that could be done about it, Vikara took possession of the fresh rounds. " Don't ask me how, but I think you're telling the truth..."
Rezna meet her gaze. " I am. "
" Well, don't you sound confident on that.. "
Vikara exhaled again ( with frustration or reluctant acceptance, Dubbo couldn't tell ), before stowing the fresh rounds using one of her chest rig pouches. Dubbo knew for a fact she's safeguard it like it was a load of diamonds till they got topside- and the same went as much for the BioFoam, if not twice.
She wouldn't let Chakram die- heck no- but she needed that ammo. She needed her SAW back on the job, because that death machine was one of the best shots the upstairs line had at holding the line. To keep the enemy back...and then destroy them.
She was ready for more..
" Ok...we're all set-"
" Gangway...gangway ! "
Again ?!
What the..?!
More new arrivals ?!
Dubbo glanced over to where the call had come from...and was greeted by the sight of two Officers hurrying through the doors. Between them, they were helping someone walk who couldn't go that quick-
Good God..!
That's...!?
Yes. It was-
" Easy...easy ! "
" Set her down...over there. Righthand side..."
" ...Its..its ok. You're ok. "
...Jeena ?!
..It was her ! The pregnant woman that Dubbo, Dekker, and Gunny Buck had found hiding from the Covnant way back at that downtown plaza ! The one who looked she was a week away at most from bringing that kid to the world...
...and one who had no business to be anywhere near a Covenant army, needless to say. But, that wasn't anyone's call, sadly...but, sending her to the safest place around this building was. Granted, " safe " was a relative term when the Covenant was concerned, but it was the best they could do till they beat that tide of xenos back- or until someone arrived to bail them out.
For now, though...all they could do was move her away from the aliens. Put as much metal and anyone skilled with a gun between her and them.
...But, if she was here...
The future mother looked about as frightened as anyone would expect her to, but she wasn't wailing, at least. Staring around her like a stray animal, she did not struggle as the officers carefully helped her walk to the opposite side of the improved field medical station, before easing her down against the wall amid a lot of " Ow, this is kind of uncomfortable for me " kind of gasps and grunts.
Not that it could be anything else, though. Her belly was still as round as big as a medicine ball- it wasn't a long shot that she might enter labor on any given day...or at any given moment. Only problem was...any " given moment " anywhere near to now would probably have hordes of aliens who's only purpose while alive was to...
...kill every last human who wasn't dead.
Dear God.
That ain't right. We gotta stop these guys. We have to...
" Hey...oh. "
So, Vikara had seen her as well...
And seemed to share the same kind of mindset- or at least the surprise of it. Which was good enough on its own..
" ..."
Turning toward the Australian, she nodded decisively. "We'll keep her safe. You know I'll do everything I can. "
" You good ? "
What that even a question ?
Well...yeah, it was, but one of the easiest kind that anyone could ever ask him.
For all the sandpaper-y thirst that was coating his thirst, the deep soreness that was wrapped around all 4 of his limbs, and that fiercely strong want to have a meal that wasn't a nutrition bar...well, he still wanted to fight.
None of those other things could shake that from him. No matter how strong they got...they couldn't change anything. Marines didn't get the luxury of having a hot meal, cold ( or hot, as the case might be ) drink, or a freaking nap while they had an enemy army rolling like a plasma-spewing streamroller over territory they were charged to defend.
Did he already know all that ? No kidding. But...sometimes it didn't do you any harm to remind yourself of when things got rough.
Like " More Covenant you'd ever seen to date headed RIGHT at YOU " kind of rough. But, then again, as the long-tested saying that had stood for over 300 years so proudly went: " When the going gets rough, the tough get crazy with grenades. "
...Well, that might've been a slight warping of how it'd been supposed to go, but hey: If it served a point, why fix it ?
So, all he could by then was what he soon did: Tell her he was more than locked and loaded for what was coming.
Because, what else was there ? Nothing that appealed to him, at least. Or her, or any of them.
Except...fight. Fight on...till they found a way out.
Or win. Winning would be good, actually.
"...Heck yeah, Vikara. ". He raised his MA5.
" Heck. Yes. Let's roll. "
By a hair, they'd made it..
Was that exaggerating ? Probably, but it didn't matter at the end of the day.
What did, was that Chakram was still alive. Sure, there was nearly as much blood out of him as otherwise, but that extra Biofoam had made the critical difference that it was supposed to: It'd stopped the blood, and he was still with them.
"...Ok...ok...that's all the bleeding stopped..", muttered the attending Corpsman- a scar-cheeked Tanzanian named Ojekbe. " But, that's only the tip of the iceberg: He's gonna need a transfusion, stat. Or we'll lose him. "
" What's his blood type ? ". Dubbo blurted it out before he actually thought about it- but decided a second later it was ok anyway.
O Positive. That's me.
Him ? Long as we match...
" I'll give what I can, Doc..."
" Ay-sign me up on that.. !" Vikara was quick not to be left out.
A stab at upstaging him ? Some cynical might think that, but not Dubbo. If that's who she actually was, then she wouldn't have dared him to swim across the Zambezi river that one time way back when during flooding season- that was just good and pure fashioned risk taking.
Ie..do something dangerous, but for a good cause. And saving a fellow Jarhead from dying on their watch was about as good as it got.
But...that'd need a match.
The Corpsman looked up. " B Positive. "
...Well, damn.
...Not according to plan, this.
Well...that was that course of action all shot to ribbons. No match, no donation, needless to say.
" ...Ohh...ok. "
Still...Dubbo wasn't giving up entirely.
" ...Then..we could take him back to the aid station . We were just there.."
But, that was as much progress as he made on the offer, before Captain Korsan had something to say about it.
" Hey-hold up there, Private ! You've done more than enough for this man, and I'm damn proud. But I need you back on the line, understand ? You and Vikara. You're two of my best shooters, and the Covies are not letting up ! "
Ha ! Calling me the best ? I'm blushing..
But, seriously...
" Captain..". The Aussie knew better than to argue with an officer, outright, but...there had to be some way to get his point across.
" Ma'am ". He pointed at the prone Marine, who's torso was the shade of mud from all his blood staining his dark green battle armor and fatigues. " We can't leave a job unfinished. We can't. We got the B-Foam; we should be the ones who help him the rest of the way.."
" I hear you...", Korsan emphasized. " But you confirmed the lower levels leading there are clear- so I need you here where the Covies are. You're staying- but as soon as we get a pause with all this, you're cleared to go down there and check. "
...Hard bargain, Ma'am...
I don't like it, but...
" We clear on that, Private ?! ", the Officer authoritatively pressed, suddenly. She'd shown she wasn't the kind of brass who liked to pull rank as a habit, but she still would if need be.
" You too, Vikara. "
Or, if there looked like there might be a need. Officers were, to some level, all the same deep down...as Dubbo had long ago found out.
So, again...there was only one thing to do:
"...Yes, Ma'am. "
" ...You got it, Captain ". The South African didn't sound any more pleased, but she got the message. Upset for sure, but it wasn't her call, and she knew it.
Didn't mean she had to lose face, though.
"...Good. Now, then..."
Turning to one side, the officer made a sharp " Get over here " gesture, and a second or so later, another pair of Marines came hustling over, ducking low under the still-present sheets of plasma and Needle fire that was cleaving the air overhead.
They both had well-worn looking MA5s to hand, and one had a scar running across her chin, left to right. Both looked especially alert, ready, and prepared to " hop to it " at a moment's notice. Dubbo pegged any one of them as an overachiever...
The kind who thought they might make officer after just a day.
But, whether that was so or not, he wouldn't find out now, because-
" Teja ! Roman ! "
Korsan tipped her head toward Chakram. " Get this Marine down to the Aid Post- ASAP ! Get it done yesterday, then get back here ! Got it !? "
" Ma'am ! Yes, ma'am ! ", both Marines chorused.
That done, they set about carrying out their orders with unsurprising dedication- and Dubbo found he was right. They were good.
Fine...ok, he told himself. They could handle this. Not that it'd been why he'd been committed to doing this himself, though...
" Got his legs ?! "
" Sure, yeah ! Hold tight on your end...! "
As they rapidly set about lifting the wounded Leatherneck from the ground, and adjusting their grip on him, Korsan redirected her attention to her recently-returned runners. " Vikara ! Dubbo...! "
" Ok- back where you where ! Double- "
But, she was barely halfway through it, before-
UUUUUURRAAAAHHHHH...!
...
...
Out of the total blue, a roaring, metallic, machine-like wail carved its way through the air...
UUUUUUUURAAAAAHHHH...!
It was so loud, that the ground itself vibrated. It quivered...and that ended up running right up through your legs, before ending up where your ribs met your lower torso. It pummeled your ears, down to the drums...
What the he-?!
Dubbo blinked and jumped- not literally, but it came close to it- all at once. It was like an electric current had run through him, he was so helpless to stop it...
"...***king - what was that ?! ", cried Vikara.
She sure as sin wasn't alone thinking that, for sure- all along the battle line, more exclamations and shouts rose. It was just loud enough to fight with the racket of the battle...but so much its own brand of loud, that even the whine and crash of all those plasma weapons couldn't smother it.
Did the fight slack off ? No- not at all. The Covies still threw themselves forward, judging from all that plasma, and the Marines/Soliders were dishing it back, as always, but now...now there was something else at play.
Dubbo recognized what that something was. That noise...!
...He had not heard it after Reach. He'd heard it all too often then.
He'd not wanted to hear it again as a footsoldier. A Pelican jockey, maybe. But...
...No.
No...
"...What the fu-! "
As Dubbo's blood turned to ice once again, Vikara stepped forward, brandishing her M6. " I'm getting my SAW-! "
" No point against that thing...! "
Dubbo surged forward. His palms were getting clammy already , and his spine wouldn't stop pulsing with icewater...and he knew why.
There was only one source of a noise like that. Only 1...
One that only a handful of ground-pounders hadn't heard- fortunate them. Apparently, Vikara was one, and for the most fleeting of moments, Dubbo prayed she was grateful.
There was only one machine that existed that could do that...only-
What ?! That rumble...!
THAT was the rumble...!
" Its a...! "
" ...Scarab ! "
To nobody's shock, Korsan was no stranger to what was doubtlessly coming for them by now. She knew as much as the Aussie did...and that was no mistake.
She knew..
" Scarab ! "
And, she was not alone. From one point and another down the line...the cry was repeated.
Alaramed. Shocked. Stunned...
And rightly so.
" Scarab !
" SCARAB ! "