Another Friday, another BC for everyone! Huge, huge thanks for the beta reading from BrambleStar14 and Minaethiel once again. They make me look far smarter than I am. And another huge thanks for everyone for checking this story out, leaving a review, favouriting and following. It means a lot to have you here for this ride.
Let's have some Phoenix fun.
The Ones We Serve
Written by TunelessLyric
"I'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre
Come now, bite through these wires
I'm a waking hell and thе gods grow tired
Reset my patiеnt violence along both lines of a pathway higher
Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire"
-Sleep Token, 'Take Me Back to Eden'
The city was burning. Smoke rose in thick, shifting columns, choking the air with heat and soot. The air hummed with ballistic weapon fire all through the streets. UNSC vehicle engines chugged along, only adding to the chaotic impressions as eight armoured figures stalked down the sidewalk.
Blizzard fought against the instinct to grip her weapon tighter. So far they hadn't seen anything worth shooting at, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Her teammates were, for the most part, nearly vibrating out of their skins with anticipation. Harper had his head tipped back. A dog on a scent.
Geist was long gone, visible only rarely as he worked his way down the street several blocks ahead. If he saw anything worth engaging, they would know in a split second. But his amber light had yet to flash on their HUDs.
She was beginning to think the entire battle was over already and they had only come to breathe in the destruction. It would not have surprised her if that was the case.
Still, Harper had promised he had some action for them before they had left for New Ephesus. Apparently they weren't waiting long to ship out for it, since they had linked up with a URF ship as soon as leaving the atmosphere. They had enough time for a quick nap on the jump into the system before gearing back up again.
Blizzard had slept in her armour. Unwilling to examine anything that had changed too closely. She had no idea what would happen when Phoenix had the downtime to ask her questions about her father. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready for that.
An amber warning flashed as she was about to take another step. The ground shuddered with another explosion, not far off.
"Finally," muttered Firefly, breaking into a jog as Harper picked up the pace.
A few murmured agreements were sent up like smoke.
Blizzard simply trotted along, content to find the steadying wall within and lean against it. Letting it drain the warmth from her bones, she kept up with the fireteam as they hunted out the firefight a few blocks away.
Another Innie team was pinned down when they showed up. Several UNSC squads had set up shop behind makeshift barricades and civilian vehicles. Harper took one look at the situation and began signalling, totally comfortable in command.
Blizzard and Circuit glanced at each other as they were partnered to move up along the right side of the street. They took turns aiming potshots at the UNSC troops, not having any opportunities for anything more careful. The two Insurrectionists had to duck into the front step of a department store as four or five automatic rifles peppered the sidewalk around them.
"This sucks," the engineer complained. He had his sidearm in one hand, stun baton in the other. Unlike in training sessions, it packed enough of a punch to stop hearts. Blizzard allowed herself a moment to be glad she wasn't facing that weapon today.
She leaned out of their cover, armour pressed to the brick wall, to fire back at one fireteam. They hunkered back down long enough for Circuit to dart forward into a better position.
He returned the favour, high-explosive rounds puncturing through the flimsier barricades. A few pained cries cracked through the firefight. Blizzard sank deeper within herself, blocking the sounds out.
Hannah Steele, ODST, had died. She was not with the UNSC anymore. Not after ONI. That better part of herself was buried under feet of ice, the layers only thickening with each emotionless look shot her way by Hunter.
She slid behind an SUV parked at a meter that had run down to zero. Easing out a long breath, the Phoenix lifted her assault rifle and squeezed the trigger. There was no rush. No satisfaction in the work. Just the detached focus and efficient targeting that her body knew. Point and squeeze. Over and over again.
The Army teams were suddenly split between suppressive fire from Blizzard on one side, Hunter's SMGs on the other, Crosshair from above as he took a position in one of the many apartments lining the street. Firefly and Harper came up the centre, the team leader apparently racing Hunter and Geist. For his own part, Geist seemed unaware he was part of the contest. Falcon wasn't exactly taking his time in following Circuit and Blizzard, but he wasn't exactly keeping up with them either. No, he appeared content to watch their backs, particularly when the engineer waded into the fray, humbler stirring the air around him.
Harper, Hunter and Geist fell on the UNSC forces at the same time.
Something stirred in Blizzard as she caught flashes of blades and sprays of blood. Now wasn't the time to examine it. Instead, she stuffed it into a deep corner of her mind for when they put this ruin behind them.
Point and squeeze. Until her arms were tired of holding her rifle's muzzle up. Until she had to scavenge for more ammunition.
She bent among the dead. The butchered, the shot, the glazed eyes. The UNSC forces died the same as Innies. It was old knowledge, gained over the years of huddling in the same holes. It changed nothing, this affirmation. It didn't stop her from rolling over the remains of a woman close to her age and patting the body down until she came up with a magazine to slide into her weapon and a few spares to stow at her belt.
It had been some time since Orange was last deployed against humans. ODSTs were constantly being redirected in favour of the pitched battles raging across the Covvie-Human front, White's team no exception.
It was exactly how she remembered it. Ugly. But she was used to fighting the brutal the Covenant, taller, stronger, with fewer reservations about excessive force. And she was used to training with Phoenix, who held nothing back except the killing blows.
Lieutenant Ian Harper's team swept through the city slowly turning to ash. Blizzard kept a few steps behind Circuit. Kept enemies occupied and attention split between his immediate threat and her waiting rifle.
The guys called out to one another from time to time. Mostly excited chatter or complimenting particularly neat kills. But she didn't join in. Whatever being here meant to the rest of them, this was simply her job. As natural as breathing. Natural as it was for them.
Not a holiday.
None of them commented on her silence. Her reluctance to raise her voice. Her reliance on painting targets on their HUDs or marking locations. Her regression to hand signals as she acknowledged or warned.
"Hey, Bliz, over here!"
She stood, leg muscles protesting weakly after being crouched for so long. Harper's summons came from behind an overturned transport truck. Nothing but yellow blips on her motion tracker, she trudged across the scorched expanse of shattered glass and wrecked vehicles. Shifting orange and yellow light caught on the reflective shards as they crunched beneath her soles.
She shrugged, head cocked, as she rounded the cab.
A line of familiar armour ran down the trailer, each set several paces from its neighbours. Each was propped against the bent metal of the transport, unable to sit up with their hands zip-tied across their bodies to their feet in ungainly pretzels.
Harper beamed at her, helmet propped under one arm. The smile screamed pride in his handiwork. It wasn't reflected in his calculating gaze. "My op," he said, "my rules."
Six ODST visors snapped to Blizzard. To the same armour on her body. Her eyes ran over each of them. The best damn fighters in the galaxy. Hog tied and humiliated, realizing one of their own was answering to the Innie.
A nagging itch started, right below the thick metal covering the back of her head. It took everything she had not to rip off her helmet and scratch until it stopped bothering her. The sensation redoubled as familiar footfalls sounded in the quiet. Hunter, Falcon and Firefly skidded around the building at her back. Their eyes on the back of her head hit her like a handful of rocks.
"Harper," began Falcon, hesitant.
The team lead held up a hand. "Stay out of this. All of you," he ordered.
One of the ODSTs squirmed, trying to reach for a concealed weapon maybe. Or an attempt to strain against his bonds. Harper swooped down, knife drawn and point against the soldier's throat as fast as the eye could track.
"Let's not do that, yeah?" he warned softly.
And Blizzard watched it all happen, hands numb around her weapon.
The trim of their armour was a dark blue. They were all the wrong size. But they were the same when she looked at them. When she wondered who they were and what their stories were. If they had even wanted to be here instead of fighting Covvies on some other planet. In some other city being reduced to cinders.
She couldn't move.
Couldn't drag her voice up from whatever pit it had fallen into when she had to give parts of herself away in the firefights that had dragged through the day.
That blond head turned to pin her with a stare. "Well, Bliz, take your time. Not like there's anywhere else we need to be. Insurrection owns this place now. There's nothing useful to get out of them, fun as it might be to have full cells again. So why not do them all a favour and put them to bed?"
Falcon put a hand on her shoulder. Probably meant as a comforting gesture, but the weight crushed her into the pavement. She shook him off.
The itch persisted.
"Firefly," said Harper.
Her teammate straightened. "Boss?"
"Come here."
Pistol against the ODST's visor, Harper slashed through one zip tie. Then the other. He placed the handle of his knife in the ODST's hand, curling those fingers shut around it slowly.
Firefly sat cross-legged where Harper pointed. He stayed absolutely still as his leader yanked the prisoner forward.
"Couldn't help but notice you two chumming around. It's touching, seeing you make friends and start feeling comfortable with us. Glad you're settling in and feeling at home. But. Your stubborn streak is somewhat problematic." Harper, pistol still aimed at the ODST, blade against the back of Aaron's neck, didn't seem to care that he held those two lives in his hands. Gave no indication that he was the least bit concerned about what might happen if he stepped out from between them. "I invited you to join my team. To be a part of the family, Bliz. But I'm not a fan of the way you throw your weight around and act all self-righteous. You're no better than us."
Geist, Crosshair and Circuit came around the transport together, Circuit snapping off the middle of a joke as the three of them were confronted with the tableau.
To their credit, none of them reacted in any visible way.
"Do you trust me, Firefly?" Harper hissed into the pyro's ear.
He nodded without hesitation.
"Good." Harper's head tilted to look over his shoulder. "Do you trust Blizzard?"
He released the ODST's hand and swept away, magnum dropping to point at the ground. The ODST snaked an arm around Aaron's throat. Legs cinched around his waist, pulling the two of them tight together.
"Let us go," the ODST snapped, voice like a cracking whip. Commanding.
Blizzard let it all wash over her. She couldn't feel her hands anymore. Her arms. She was frozen in place, watching the soldier and the Innie watch her. A few other ODSTs struggled to move. One fell over from the ferocity of his wiggling.
"Fuck you," one of them spat. Talking to Harper, or to Blizzard, she didn't know. A couple of the others echoed the sentiment.
None of them begged. None of them asked for mercy or to be released. They let their freed brother speak for them all.
"You have to the count of three before I kill him, then I come for you, Blizzard," the man with Harper's knife and Firefly's life said with deadly calm. "One."
"What about you, Geist?" asked Harper.
She didn't know what to do. Who to be furious with. The ODSTs for being here. Harper for dreaming this all up for her benefit. Or punishment.
"Two."
Aaron for agreeing to this stupid, stupid display.
"Do you trust her?"
Or herself for being caught in such a simply formulated steel trap.
Geist held very still. He didn't offer an answer either way. Didn't so much as glance in her direction. He only had eyes for the man sitting calmly on the pavement.
She could rage at all of them, she guessed.
"Thr—"
The ODST's arm tensed, gathering pressure to slide the wicked point of Harper's knife through Firefly's suit. And Firefly just sat there, motionless, with his eyes boring through both of their visors.
Blizzard's rifle barked. The recoil hammered against her shoulder.
Glass and ice shattered, falling to the ground and looking for all the world like the scattered light of constellations.
The ODST's grip loosened as he tipped backwards. Armour collided with the asphalt with a loud, hollow clank. Blood and straw-yellow fluid ran from the ruin of his head. Grey chunks like cauliflower landed next to him. Landed at the feet of his comrades.
Before anyone else could move, her rifle shifted. Harper didn't even flinch as he found himself staring down the barrel. But he did smile.
Hostages, she wrote across his HUD.
The smile widened just a bit before Harper swept into a grand bow. "Your wish is my command, Bliz."
She crossed one name from her list. Set one life on the scale against the souls.
Firefly bounced to his feet, throwing his arms around her and pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. "Hell yeah, I trust you," he said. Then his weight was gone, leaving her stranded in the parking lot so he could elbow Geist in the side playfully.
Blizzard stared at the corpse. For once, she didn't hope to feel the pain. She set it behind her and turned away.
Hunter was watching her, even though the rest of the team drifted off to gather around Harper.
She couldn't help but wonder what he saw as he stood there, only a few feet away. Close enough to touch if they both reached out. Not giving him the chance to do it first, she shook her head and walked away.
There was no voice left to say any of the words that half-formed in her throat.
"You want to talk about it?"
She sat in the back of the Pelican, feet dangling beside the ramp. She and Crosshair were the first two back to the aircraft, the others splitting off to do their own side trips. Circuit muttered something about collecting salvage. Geist had taken one look at Firefly, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him off, posture deceptively relaxed. Hunter had gone off in search of the tallest building in the city, Harper deciding to go after him a few minutes later. And Falcon was attending a URF meeting in their leader's place.
Swinging her feet, Hannah pulled her helmet off to finally scratch the back of her head. She caught Mike's steady blue gaze.
"Didn't think so." He sat next to her, stretching his long legs down the ramp and leaning back on his hands.
They both stared out at the smoggy haze choking the remains of skyscrapers. Something would rise out of those ashes. But would it be better than it had been before?
"We're all damaged somehow, you know. Hard to tell on our good days, but you haven't seen anyone's bad days yet," he said. "We've all lost people. Not just Isaac. We've all done things we're not proud of. I promise you that every single person on this team has wished they could stop existing. Just… stop hurting for an hour or two."
She swung her feet again, focusing on the feeling of nothing under her. Pretending it was a longer drop than the foot or so between the edge and the ground. Perhaps she should have followed Hunter and Harper.
"I had a sister once," it came out strained. The first time Mike ever sounded less than totally serene. "Damn good sniper. Almost as good as I am. What I'm trying to say, Hannah, is that you aren't the only one who owes someone a life."
Her chest ached with empathy. Someone else's pain was easy. It cost nothing. Weighed nothing when she could set it down at any time. She shifted, moving a little closer so that when her leg swung again, it nudged his.
"I don't agree with what Ian did today with you and Aaron." Mike finally looked away from their view, addressing her directly. "I don't think he knows what to do with you. The fact that you unsettle Jason—nearly broke Jason—and don't care about Harper at all hasn't endeared you to him."
Hannah levelled an unimpressed look at the sniper.
He held up a hand. "I know it's not the point. All I'm saying is that he's slipped into the same patterns he uses on Jason. He knows they worked before. But I don't…" he hesitated, searching her face for something, "I don't think they work on you."
She had to break eye contact, unable to see that pity he held out to her.
"I'll talk to Phil about it, he'll know what to do."
A snort rose in her throat. It never made it outside of her body. Unless Phil could work out a way to explain human emotions to Harper, it was doubtful anyone could come up with a solution.
Mike moved his leg closer to Hannah's so that they never broke contact. "You can talk to any of us when you're ready. We all talk to Lucas if there's something we need off our chests. He barely even notices we're there most nights. No judgement from anyone, though. You're not alone when you're one of us."
Her eyebrows rose. One of them?
He huffed out a weak laugh. "I think we both know Aaron's taken a shine to you. Nobody risks Geist's ire like that without good reason. And don't forget that Jason and I climbed down into that ditch to pull you out. I'm rooting for you, Hannah. And I hope you two manage to figure things out. He hasn't been the same since your fight."
She waited for the guilt to stab through her heart. It didn't come.
"As for Lucas, I've honestly never seen him talk to a woman without stuttering before. I watched the two of you today. You make a good team in a firefight."
You have a place here.
That's what Mike was trying to say. You fit in.
She wondered how many ODSTs each Phoenix had killed. Who had more than her? Who had less? Did she even stack up to Harper yet? They had killed so many of each other's people by now.
Her mouth opened on her next inhale. No sound came out. She shut it again.
Mike let her sit in silence. He didn't push any further topics. Didn't try to get her to respond. He accepted her as she was.
Maybe that was why her eyes filled with tears.
She was still soundlessly weeping when Geist trudged into view, hand still clamped around Aaron's shoulder. Geist's helmet was clenched in his other hand. He gave her a lingering look, the barest hint of gratitude and respect in his expression. Aaron touched two fingers to his forehead in a lazy salute. Both sat down next to Mike and the three of them started up a hushed conversation.
Phil appeared next. He tapped on a tablet, scrolling through some after-action report from their superiors. Flashing a smile in Hannah's direction, he climbed into the troop bay to put his feet up on the bench while he finished reading.
Not long later, Lucas joined them. He had a near-bursting pack filled with pillaged wire, bits and pieces of UNSC armour, paper bags of nuts and bolts, and who even knew what else. He quickly joined in with Aaron's explanation of an especially spectacular stretch of destruction they had come across while looting.
The sun sank into the orange clouds. Nightfall wasn't long off when Hunter and Harper arrived looking thoroughly pleased with themselves. Nobody asked where they had been. What they had been doing. Hunter barely glanced in her direction before hopping up beside Phil. Unable to leave his new favourite puzzle alone, Harper crouched in front of Hannah, trying to get her attention by waving a hand in front of her face.
She ignored him. She didn't so much as blink as he passed his rough fingers inches in front of her face. Fingers that wafted the smell of Shaw over her. Taunting. Eventually, when she only blinked blandly, he abandoned her.
"Phil, I'm ready for bed. What the hell are we still doing on this damn planet? Let's get home," he said, stomping up the ramp.
Armour creaked and clanked as the other Phoenix members jumped to their feet. Mike held a hand down to help her up.
Nodding in thanks, Hannah took it.
That night, after the rest of the team had retired to the barracks, she found herself walking down the hallway of cells. She stopped in front of one she had passed without a second thought before. Palming the door open, she stepped into it.
There were scratches on the walls. The stereotypical tally marks as the prisoner had tried to keep track of the passage of time. There were over a hundred, all the same length and depth. She ran a finger over the scars in the wall and wondered what had happened on that final tally mark. That final day that had been counted out and committed to stone.
Hannah sat down on the bed and stretched herself out on the mattress. Rolling over, she found more marks on the wall. The same careful scores. She breathed deeply, feeling at ease. Her eyes widened, a familiar scent in the air.
Grabbing a fistful of the blankets, she pulled them close and sniffed carefully. She flinched as if slapped in the face, dropping the blanket. On her feet before truly deciding to stand, she stalked the rest of the way down the hall.
Mark was curled up in his own bed, his back to her. With no words with which to wake him up and no desire to disturb his peaceful hours of oblivion, Hannah rested her hand against the glass and wished that she could open it as easily as she had opened his brother's cell. She let out a short sigh before turning back toward the barracks.
It was several hours after midnight when, finally worn out and nearly unconscious on her feet, Hannah felt brave enough to risk falling asleep. Brave enough to face whatever twisted terrors her subconscious was ready to fling in her face.
Even though she was exhausted, she didn't sleep well that night. Not with the day's memories. Not when she imagined she could smell Jason on her sheets.