Halo: Feet First

by MikeDice

Halo: Feet First covers the story of a team of UNSC Orbital Drop Shock Troopers of the 7th Battalion, 105th Shock Troops Division. The main character, Duncan Iris, faces the full horror of the covenant war effort against humanity as well as the brave retaliation of outnumbered and outgunned UNSC forces. However, he also witnesses the turning of the tides as the war progresses.

107. Battle of Ballast - Chapter 15 (Dentes)

Chapter 15 – Dentes

January 4th, 2552 - (15:40 Hours - Military Calendar)

Daedalus system, Ballast

:********:

Duncan could hardly get a solid idea of where he was or where they were going aside from his HUD's compass. They were moving northwest. The passageway they were in gave no indication of that. Its walls were comprised of a similarly strange, silvery sheen as the chamber where they found the alien construct. That was where the comparisons ended. There were no glyphs or ornate architecture, only an endless tunnel lit up by an unknown light source.

Since they left the main chamber, Duncan had stuck to the group's rear, running beside the Staff in a headlong dash down the passage. At least twenty minutes had passed since they started. The ONI personnel were flagging. More often than not, they had to slow down or stop altogether, forcing one or two ODSTs to have to tag alongside them. This left the group broken up across a 20-meter spread that was growing longer and wider every minute.

At the moment, Duncan and the Staff were trailing behind Strawson and Sorvad. The rest of the recovery team were doing their best to either spearhead the way forward or encourage the doctors to keep moving. In one case they were also made to carry them as when Dr. Benson proved too tired and was thrown onto Lima-5's shoulders.

Cordova took a commanding position at the fore of the formation. She raised her M7 at the way ahead and planted a Nav point.

"I've got the end of the passageway in my sights. I can't make out any exits."

"Neither can I." Renni agreed as she jogged in beside her. "That AI, what was he talking about? Ep-1, can you remember?"

"He said it would take us up to a body of water on the surface." Seeing Strawson beginning to fall behind even more, he grabbed his arm and pulled him over his shoulders without breaking stride. "I'm thinking he was talking about Lake Ladoga. It's the only one in the immediate area west of the preserve. From there, we should have an easy shot to LZ Charlie."

With Sorvad also running out of breath, Duncan got in front of her and crouched down, offering his back. She quickly leapt on and he got them moving.

They reached within 30 meters of the Nav point when Duncan spotted the blank face of a dead-end wall.

"Still no exits." Cordova reported. "Mind telling me what we're looking for, Staff?"

"Your guess is just as good as mine."

"I don't have any-, wait, I see something."

Duncan saw it too.

A light blipped into being on the surface of the dead-end wall. The closer they came, the more he could make out the projection of a rotating glyph; three interlocking circles that rotated like a fan.

A wash of glyphs flashed along the walls to their right and left, continuing up to the end where they coalesced around the first. The group came within the last several meters just as the first glyph became the last, disappearing into the air like steam.

The ceiling started to shake. So did the walls and the floor.

"Ep-1?" Nova called.

"Stay close to where that symbol showed up." The Staff ordered. "That's probably our way out."

The troopers ran towards where they'd seen the glyph. Once they gathered around, the lighting in the passageway dimmed. Duncan felt a shiver pass through him. The feeling of being watched left him.

"Look!" Yuri pointed up.

Part of the ceiling directly above them was slowly retracting. As it receded, sunlight streamed in. Those below found themselves looking up at the star Daedalus. Only, it was as if they were seeing it through a watery prism.

The panicked realization set in once they saw the fish. Dozens of schools were seemingly flying mere meters overhead. After a moment of nothing happening, the rush of fear subsided.

"We're underwater." The Staff affirmed.

Strawson, briefly freed of his misery and the Staff's shoulders, marveled at the sight. "But how? There's no glass. None that I can see anyway."

One of his associates, Dr. Madeira, examined it. "We must be at least 30 meters below, at the bottom of the lake. Our geological surveys never noticed anything out of the ordinary here. So how?"

Possibly to answer her question, the floor beneath them started to rise They gathered closer together as their section of the passageway dislodged from the rest. In exact sync with the floor, the new 'ceiling' changed. The water overhead took on a distinctly cuboid shape. More exactly, a shimmering cube of translucent light phased into being around them.

They rose to the point that the floor underneath them became the new ceiling for the passage. There it stopped. They continued to rise. The same light energy they saw before on the bridge now manifested itself directly beneath their feet.

No one said a word. They were too engrossed in the strangeness of it all, of lifting off the lake floor in what was essentially a bubble.

Their ascent intersected with the path of the schools of fish. They quickly swam around them or dispersed completely to reform elsewhere, watching the strange intruders pass by with their lidless eyes.

Duncan peeked past his feet. He searched for the passageway. However, the underwater corridor had already sealed itself off. No trace of its presence was left aside from a spray of disturbed silt. That too settled and the darkness of the lake bottom swallowed up any residual evidence of its presence.

His mind wondered on the idea that it might have taken ONI a much shorter time to reach that old AI if they knew about this exit. He wanted to ask Strawson what he thought, but seeing that the look of awestruck wonder had returned to the doctor's face, he decided to leave him be. The man had suffered enough disappointments for one day.

Soon, their cube emerged onto the surface with little more than a ripple. As soon as it did, the walls of light phased out of existence. To anyone else, the group would have appeared to be standing on water.

The remaining hard surface beneath them suddenly extended out 40 meters before touching the western bank of Lake Ladoga.

The troopers were already at each other's backs, scanning the banks and the surrounding tree-line.

"Eastern banks are clear." Kilo-1 said.

"North is clear." Lima-3 echoed.

"South clear." Nova added.

"West is clear too." The Staff replanted the Nav point 4 kilometers to their west. "Let's move."

He led the way down the new light bridge. Duncan kept an eye on the two stragglers, Sorvad and Strawson. The two defied his expectations and ran ahead of the other ONI personnel. They'd gotten their second wind, freeing him to push up the rear at his normal speed.

They poured out onto the western bank. The second Duncan's boot touched the sediment, the bridge behind him flickered and faded, leaving nothing behind besides a deceptively normal lake.

"Let's go." The Staff said, making sure to grab Strawson and guide him along by the shoulder. The rest of the group followed them into the forest.

They began retracing their steps down forest paths, along the bases of towering sequoias and through a myriad of underbrush. The slapping of leaves against armor, lab coats and bare skin became the norm. They settled into a steady rhythm of navigating over small hills, across wide creeks and through shallow ravines, up high berms and down again to flatter lowlands. The ONI personnel proved more ready to put their all into the 4-kilometer run than they were before, probably understanding that it was the homestretch between them and safety.

Halfway through the journey, Baelson's voice beamed through the recovery team's comms.

"Recovery team, come in. What's your situation?"

"We're topside." The Staff replied. "All surviving personnel are accounted for. They'll be riding in Epsilon's bird for the trip back."

The lieutenant sighed with relief. "Good God, Ep-1, you really left me hanging up here. Alright, most of the extraction team are starting to arrive at their landing zones. Alert me as soon as you reach yours."

"Copy that, sir. Any other updates?"

"The Covenant are beginning their withdrawal. Looks like they found what they came for. I sent a communique to the colonel informing him of our situation. He said the navy will be dispatching a battlegroup to try to intercept them but we don't know if they'll reach in time."

Duncan didn't need long to understand what that meant. His thoughts drifted to the ancient AI. He sensed that everyone else understood it as well.

"Also, be advised, you might run into Ep-3 and 7 en route to your LZ, over?"

The Staff slowed. Epsilon's attention turned his way. "Why's that, 4-Actual?"

"Sorry to tell you this, Ep-1, but your boys convinced me to let them stay behind in order to rescue a hostage from some of the Brutes. An entire pack actually. They figured it was the best time with the main force already retreating. I couldn't convince them out of it so I told them to get moving as soon as they got the job done."

A cold weight landed in Duncan's gut. The Staff asked the question on his and everyone else's mind.

"A whole pack?"

"Believe me, they made it sound a lot less insane. I'm still concerned. They're out of effective communications range since Ep-7 gave me his radio-set. Ep-3 said they knew what they were asking for."

"...Understood, sir. We'll keep an eye out for them."

"Copy. I'll keep watch on my end as well, 4-Actual out."

By the time the conversation was over, the collective worry bubbling within Epsilon's ranks reached a boiling point. Nova was the first to break.

"Someone mind telling me what the actual hell Ep-3 was thinking!?"

"A whole pack?" Hector shook his head at the thought. "And Ep-7 agreed to it?"

"Seems he did." The Staff said, sounding less than pleased.

"But why?" Rico asked. "There's no reason to-"

"A hostage, that's why. Ep-3 and Ep-7 made a judgement call based on that fact. They were likely waiting for everyone else to get some distance before they kicked the hornet's nest. We can only hope they reach radio-range in time for us to locate them."

"If they ever do." Yuri said, showing no interest in disguising the reality the two were now facing.

Still running, the Staff peered over his shoulder to face him and the rest of the squad. "They'll make it."

The assurance seemed to be enough. The conversation ended there. However, the tension only continued to build. Duncan did not like the sound of their plan. Facing an entire pack of Brutes on their own? That wasn't promising, not in any sense. He was almost tempted to wonder if Deaks was risking the life of a squadmate just to get at some teeth when he squelched the thought. The idea that he would ever do that was demeaning to the corporal. He was an ODST. A professional. He never scavenged for molars from alien corpses unless he knew for certain they were dead and that his squad was safe. The same applied with Zack and his antics. He knew when to joke around and when to be serious. And this was serious. If he had chosen to stay behind with Deaks then they were both doing it because they knew and accepted the risks. Their best hope now would be in their legs and how fast they could move them.

The recovery team reached the 4-kilometer mark faster than expected. At an intersection of one of the preserve's many dirt roads, the Staff gave the next order. "Lima, Kilo, you know the way to your zones. Hop to it."

The two squads split off from Epsilon.

"Hope those two make it in time, Ep-1." Kilo-1 said as he led the rest of his squad down the right road, taking them north to LZ Bravo.

"Yeah, see you guys in Vallejo." Lima-3 gave them the thumbs up as he led Lima down the left road, headed south to LZ Delta.

"Copy that." The Staff answered.

Epsilon continued straight down the road with the ONI personnel tagging along. They jogged the last 700 meters to LZ Bravo; a small field partially obscured by the canopy of high-reaching sequoias. Within the intermingling shadows of the trees, their Pelican, Ferret-2-1, lay waiting.

Upon entering the field, they passed into the pilot's view. The cargo bay door opened and descended to the grass.

"Feret-2-1 to Ep-1, you called for a taxi?" The pilot joked over the comms.

"I did. Thanks, I might just tip you."

"Feel free, Ep-1, feel free."

The group stormed inside the bay. They settled on the seats and braced themselves in. The ONI personnel looked relieved to be safe. Not so the former who kept watching the world outside. Even as the dropship's fusion drives warmed up, Duncan felt compelled to run back out. He was seated closest to the door so he was in the best position to do so, not that he would know where he was going, only who he needed to find. He peered over at Nova. She was leaning out from the opposite seat towards the forest. He could tell she was just as worried.

The Staff refused to sit. Once everyone else was secured, he walked straight into the cockpit to look the Pelican's airmen in the eyes. "Listen up boys. Two of my guys are still out there, somewhere between our objective site and the landing zones. I'll need you to help us recon the area for them."

"Recon?" The pilot asked. "Sorry to tell you, Ep-1, but we've only got so much fuel left. If we're going to get back-"

"I know we're limited. I know that. But I'm not going to leave without my people, not until I know they're safe."

"Sir, that's just not feasible." The co-pilot intruded. "I mean, we could theoretically pull it off but we'd be straddling on E by the time we reach the starport, or any other landing zone in Vallejo for that matter. We could end up falling right out of the sky."

"And I'm saying we can risk it. We'll do an emergency landing somewhere safe if we need to then activate a beacon for someone to come pick us up. Either way, we have options. My guys don't. If we leave them here, they're dead."

The pilot shrugged. "I mean, so will we if we fall out of the-" He flinched as the Staff planted a heavy hand on his shoulder, every ounce of his earlier gentleness disappearing as he pulled off his helmet and exposed his stern face.

"Pilot, I'd like you to know something." The Staff pointed into the cargo bay at Yuri. "You see him?"

The pilot cautiously looked. "Yessir?"

"He's a pilot too. He's got plenty of flight hours on transports like these, okay?"

Yuri depolarized, flashed a mischievous grin and waved back. "Privyet."

The Staff pointed over at Cordova. "See her? She's not so bad behind the controls herself."

With her own helmet resting in her hands, The Lieutenant Commander winced at the compliment. The Staff turned on the two airmen who were quickly beginning to catch on.

While his co-pilot appeared solidly convinced, and a bit terrified, the pilot scratched his chin in thought. "I-..."

"I'd do what he says."

The conversation turned towards Cordova. She nodded to the Staff. "You see him? He's the type of guy that'll talk you up one minute then fracture your skull the next, that is if he doesn't get his way. Take it from me. It might still do you some good."

The two pilots shared a nervous glance. The Staff dipped his head in gratitude, a gesture she genuinely returned.

After a few worried stares, the two airmen straightened up in their seats.

"We can do half an hour." The pilot said. "After that, we're in danger of crash-landing. That sound doable?"

"Doable enough." The Staff agreed and made for the bay. "And keep your rear door open. Make sure you hang low enough so that we can spot them from above."

"Y-, yessir. No problem."

The Staff settled into a seat just as the hum of the fusion drives rose to a high-pitched whine. Then their ascent began. The Pelican lifted off from the field, carefully maneuvered through the canopy, rose another 20 meters then cruised northeast. All the while, the squad's eyes never shifted from the door, scanning every tree, footpath and passing shadow for a sign of their two stragglers.

:********:

Deaks heard the howl.

It was long and deep and angry. And it was closer. Much more so than it had been just two minutes earlier. Despite all their running, it was becoming painfully clear. The Brutes were gaining on them.

As the howl's echo passed into the depths of the forest, he and Zack continued pushing through the underbrush. The latter stayed ahead, always holding tightly to the woman in his arms and she to him. Even from a meter behind, regardless of the sounds of wildlife, Deaks was constantly able to hear the two words that she never stopped whispering, as though they were the only things keeping her alive.

"Thank you. Thank you."

They vaulted over a natural trench and up into a forested hill. They crested its height in little time and were on their way down.

Yet there was another howl.

"That sounded closer!" Zack said. "Ep-3!?"

"Just keep moving!"

The two of them rushed through a heavy conglomeration of bushes and the branches of low-lying elms. They were forced to skip over and crouch under a myriad of obstacles that slowed them down.

They reached a gentle decline leading down to a dirt road. Deaks checked his HUD and felt more reassured. The road led west towards LZ Charlie. He felt even more assured when he saw multiple boot-prints headed in the direction of the landing zone. They quickly followed them.

"These look fresh." Zack noted.

"It's probably Epsilon."

"And the rest of the recovery team, hopefully?"

"Hopefully."

Deaks checked his HUD again. The Nav point was still present in the west, reading; '2.5Km'. There was still a long ways left to go.

There was another howl, angrier and closer than the last less than a minute earlier. The intervals were getting shorter. The Brutes were still getting closer.

"Aw crap!" Zack grabbed his charge and shifted her over his shoulder in an attempt to displace her weight and pick up the pace. "Ep-3, go on ahead of me! I can manage!"

"Not a chance!" Deaks looked back at the path behind them. He was grateful not to see any Brutes charging up the eastern end of the route. However, the forest itself seemed to lean in on the road, threatening to choke it like a claw of branches and leaves. His chest tightened. His breathing quickened. He grimaced at the thought that it wouldn't be long before something far less friendly came rampaging up behind them. If it came to close quarters, neither of them would stand a chance. He was a sniper. He needed a long range, something a Brute would never let him have if it caught sight of him. Zack was a radioman without a radio or anything aside from his MA5C, a pistol and a person half his weight that would probably go into shock if they didn't get her some timely medical attention.

They needed time.

They were too far out of comm-range to call for help and too close to the enemy to shake them off.

No, they needed more than just time.

Deaks bit his lip as he came to understand what needed to be done.

"Ep-7!?"

"Yeah!?"

"Go on ahead! I'll buy us some time!"

Zack's head practically lurched around to him, his visor translucent enough to leave nothing to the imagination. "What!?"

Deaks willed the answer out of his mouth. "Go on ahead! I'll buy us some time!"

Zack's brows furrowed into an arrow of disbelief. "What!?"

"You heard me, Ep-3, now-"

"Cut the crap! No way man! I'm not leaving you behind! We did all this just to make sure no one got left! Now you're asking me to do the same thing!? That doesn't make ANY sense! That's stupid!"

"Just shut up! I'm a corporal, you're not, so listen!"

"You're seriously pulling rank on me!?"

"I am so listen already would you, 'cause we don't have time!"

Another howl drew their attention to the road at their backs. Still nothing.

Zack went quiet.

"Okay, you're going to take her and you're going to go straight to LZ Charlie! Don't change course for anything if you can help it! Hopefully they're either there or they'll be in the area looking for us! Make sure they spot you!"

"And what'll you do, huh!? What about you!?"

Deaks hefted up his rifle. "Like I said, I'll buy us some time! So don't worry! I have a plan! I'll be right behind you, okay!?"

Zack gave an uncertain nod. "Okay!"

"Alright, let's get off this road! From heron out, we'll move through the brush! We'll make it as hard for them as possible! Once we're in, you stay on course! I'll see you on the dropship!"

"Copy!"

The two of them turned off the road and dashed back into the underbrush, reabsorbing their shadows, movements and scents into that of the larger forest.

"You better be right behind me when you're done, Ep-3!"

"I will! Now get going!"

As the trees became less dense, the two broke apart. Deaks shot right towards the northwest while Zack continued on course.

:********:

Karagim had never felt such fury in his life. It was a strange kind of anger. That was because it wasn't meant for the human meddlers he was now chasing. The thirst for blood that had been burning in his chest for so many cycles was directed towards his fool of a chieftain. Archoneus was meant to receive the full weight of his wrath for stealing what should have rightfully been his. He had almost satisfied that desire as well. But now, here he was rushing through a filthy forest, across ravines and over hills just to kill a few humans.

His prey was guilty of three unforgivable sins.

One was stopping his righteous vengeance on the waste of Jirilhanae flesh and blood that was Archoneus.

The next was in becoming his new objects of wrath, and deservedly so after killing eight of his packmates. Eight of 'his' pack.

The last was in stealing his prey from right under his nose.

That final sin was mainly the fault of Archoneus and his decision to keep the human female alive. Some part of him felt justified that what he said would happen had ultimately come to pass. The imps were at least useful for that much. That would not be where their use ended, however. Once he caught them and killed them, he would return with their corpses before the rest of 'his' surviving pack. They would see his willingness to defend them, to lead them. They would see how right he was that the humans were a threat, that none of this would have happened if they had only listened to him. Then Archoneus' headpiece, no, 'his' headpiece would be a guaranteed reward. They would feast on the bodies of the imps while they made him chieftain and executed Archoneus for his sake. Or better yet, he would capture the humans and bring them back alive. That way, they would be free to enjoy round after round of maiming, humiliation and mutilation. Then, if still alive, they would also be rewarded by being taught the true definition of a feast.

The imaginations made his mouth water. So did the scents that he was actively tracking.

There were at least two humans judging by the smells. At different points it became difficult to track them due to the forest's natural odors. For that reason, he'd instructed the two loyal subordinates that had followed him to spread out. There was 200 meters between them. He could tell the distance by the diminishing potency of his brothers' own scents. They had taken up a classic hunting pattern. If one lost the scent of their prey, another in a different position who could still smell it would keep pursuing, allowing other hunters to follow his scent and thereby continue the hunt.

He fondly remembered using the tactic during his juvenile years on Doisac. Those were simpler times when hunting down and slaying a thorn beast acted as one's initiation into their pack. To kill the ancient delicacy of his people showed that one had made the transition from a meager infant to a full-blooded adult, ready to be counted among their more mature brothers. He and Archoneus had been among the best when it came to using it. He remembered when...

Hatred blocked out the memory. He scorned both it and himself for bringing it up.

Then scorn gave way to a giddy excitement as he stepped out onto a dirt road running west. The scent of human was strong. However, he could care less for the scent as he finally had hard evidence that he was on the right trail. Before him were a set of boot-prints headed west, a good sign.

Excitement became bewilderment. Moving out onto the road, he realized that there were actually multiple boot-prints. Too many to belong to just two humans. Were they toying with him, planting false tracks to confuse him about their numbers?

Walking along their path, he reconsidered it. It made more sense that the two he was pursuing were actually following after their retreating comrades. That idea brought a smirk to his face, the possibility that he might soon capture more than two.

His revenge would be sweet.

He howled. It was long with a deep resonance, communicating to the others that he was on the trail. A moment later, two howls replied. They would be following his scent as he followed the human tracks.

There was a fourth howl.

He stopped to listen. It was even longer than his and deeper, angrier. It came from back the way they'd come. Its tenor was all too familiar.

The hunter was also being hunted.

Karagim quietly gloried in the idea that he was luring the chieftain away from the others. His best bet would be to kill the humans before he encountered Archoneus. From there he would have the strength to deal with the other threat.

He howled again in a much lighter tone, short and quick, a taunt. 'Catch me if you can'

He turned and started running after the tracks. Discerning which were the freshest, he picked out the newest two and followed them.

To his surprise, the pair abruptly left the road and headed into the forest. He stopped at the tree-line and sniffed.

Unless he was mistaken, the two humans to last use this road had broken off from each other. One was headed west on their original course. The other was going northwest.

He scowled. They were trying to split his attention by splitting up themselves. He contemplated his options. He decided on chasing after the one going west since that was where the other humans had apparently gone when a new howl came. This one was low but shifted to a lighter tone then down again, up again and down again.

Karagim's eye twitched. The howl came from one of his subordinates, probably the one farthest to the north since he himself was on the far-south end of their formation. The message was clear but made no sense. Multiple humans had suddenly appeared in the northwest and were running further in that direction.

But how? There was only one going northwest a minute ago. Now there were multiple?

Unless there were even more humans than he was aware of.

The situation was becoming trickier. However, he gauged that his subordinate was close enough to smell this new set of humans, meaning that this group was much closer and therefore easier to reach than those he was currently tracking. He howled a long reply, ordering them to move in that direction.

He disregarded the western-bound scent and went after the northwesterly one, his belly rumbling for the chance at an even greater reward.

:********:

Duncan kept a close watch on the canopy below. The forest was denser in certain parts than others. The main difficulty came with low-hanging trees like oaks and elms that blocked out any sight of the ground. On the other hand, the taller sequoias and rare in-land redwoods had larger and more exposed roots that pushed back the smaller trees, allowing for more ground visibility. Even then, there was still no sign of Zack or Deaks.

Feret-2-1 glided 200 meters above ground, weaving around the forest's more dangerous behemoths so that Epsilon could have a solid view of everything below.

Aside from passing flocks of birds and the rustling canopy, there was no movement.

"Ep-1 to Feret-2-1, turn us around. Take us back south."

"Copy that, Ep-1."

As they made a portside turn, Duncan upped his visor magnification. The rotating forest below leapt at him in greater detail. He scanned the shadows of the tree trunks, paying closer attention to the dirt paths. The few he could find were empty.

"See anything, Ep-8?" Nova asked, searching around just as thoroughly.

"Negative." He pulled back his magnification. Doing so enabled him to see new movement, this one airborne. Feret-2-1 completed its portside turn and boosted southward, allowing Duncan to spot another Pelican. It was already several kilometers away and was flying westward. By its position and speed, he deduced that it had taken off from LZ Bravo, just to the north of LZ Charlie.

"The extraction team's bailing out."

"Looks like it." Nova noted. "Think those two might've gone to Alpha?"

"Doubt it. The LT's too far off. Even if it's only a little, Charlie is still closer."

"Ugh, can I ask something?"

Nova, Duncan and the rest of the squad turned inward to where Dr. Strawson sat. He looked uncomfortable, if not extremely out of place as an academic wearing the security bracing meant for a UNSC jarhead. Like the others, without a helmet, his hair was left flying about in the wind. To Duncan, he looked like a kid stuck on a rollercoaster ride that he hadn't asked for.

"How much longer are we going to stay here? Look, I understand you're searching for your guys, but think about it, wouldn't the enemy eventually find us and send aircraft our way. They might send the whole corvette if they see us hanging around. We won't stand a chance th-"

Hector put a hand on his shoulder. "You think too much, doc." He gently pushed the man back in his seat. "Now stay like that, please. You don't have any gear. If this bird makes any sudden moves, your neck is history." He patted his shoulder. "Trooper's orders."

With Strawson silenced, the next to speak up was Sorvad. "But he's right. How much longer are you going to spend out here? The longer we take, the more exposed we are."

Yuri cocked his head at her. "You know, you techie types got brains, coats, PhDs in stuff nobody can say properly, but you know one thing you don't have?" He tapped a finger on the stock of his rifle. "These. You're not behind desk anymore, Ms. ONI. You're on our turf. This is how we work. If you got problem, you get one of these. Then we'll talk, khorosho?"

Sorvad stared at him in utter bewilderment. "I-...I don't-…"

"Shut up." Yuri replied. "I'm trying to say shut up, okay? Is that easier?"

"Just take it easy, Dr. Sorvad." Renni said more politely from the seat next to hers. "He's saying we're not leaving our guys behind. We didn't leave you and we we're not going to leave them either. Is that alright?"

Sorvad swallowed nervously but showed a face of tentative agreement

"That's not what I said." Yuri sneered. "I said shut up."

"I was translating for you."

"That was perfect English."

As Renni and Yuri argued, Duncan tuned them out. It wasn't intentional. Rather, it was because as the Pelican passed closer to a meadow, he thought he saw something: a quick burst of movement beneath a low-lying elm. He upped his magnification. When he didn't see anything past the leaves, he angled down to a nearby oak and caught another burst of movement. "Got something."

Nova and the rest of the squad leaned in. The Staff rose from his seat and maneuvered along the ceiling handles to stand near the edge. "Point it out, Ep-8."

Duncan planted a Nav point on the oak. "Right around there."

"Copy. Ep-1 to Feret-2-1, turn back and conduct a rotation around that meadow."

"Roger."

The Pelican turned hard to starboard and moved back towards the north. Upon reaching the edges of the meadow, the pilot engaged in a clockwise rotation around the perimeter, keeping them just above the tallest sequoia.

From the open bay, the troopers kept an eye on the area around the Nav point.

There was a rustle of leaves in the underbrush.

A figure emerged from the tree-line. It had dashed several meters into the open air before Duncan got a solid visual. It was an ODST carrying a woman in a torn lab coat. The identity of one of them was immediately obvious.

"I got eyes on Ep-7." He said with such relief that he felt ready to laugh.

The unspoken tension within the squad dissipated.

Duncan, Nova and the Staff watched as Zack stopped near the middle of the meadow to look up at them. His frantic voice came over comms. "Hey! Guys, down here!"

"We see you." The Staff replied. "Hang tight, we're coming down."

"Hurry, I might have company!"

"Ep-1 to Feret-2-1, take us down."

"Roger."

They hung on as the dropship glided towards the west and banked to port. Its fusion drives quieted down as they completed a 270-degree rotation, by the end of which the aircraft's body came to rest on the grassy meadow.

Zack was directly in sight and running straight for them. Duncan eyed the haggard woman in his arms.

So did the Staff. "Ep-10?"

Renni rose from her seat, hand on her biofoam canister. "Ready."

Zack sprinted up the ramp. He skidded to an unsteady halt in front of Epsilon's medic. She quickly helped the woman out of his hands and settled her into a seat. As she examined her, Zack collapsed onto his hands and knees, heaving.

Duncan and Nova kept their weapons leveled at the tree-line, searching for any enemy contacts and a lingering friendly one. Neither emerged.

The Staff walked up behind Zack, giving him a few seconds to catch himself. "Where's Ep-3?"

Once he was able, Zack turned up to him, looking no less tired and drained of life than he had when he came in. "He's-...he-...we split up, sir."

The earlier tension resurged as the rest of the squad rounded on their radioman.

Zack turned away from them. "He wanted...to buy...time...I-...he's still-…" His hands tightened into fists. Where words failed, his eyes communicated all they needed to as they looked to the door, turning everyone else's attention to the outside. To the distant tree-line.

Nova acted first. She threw off her seat bracing and arose. She moved to run out.

"Ep-2."

The Staff's voice stopped her on the ramp. "...Sir?"

"Where're you going?"

"To drag Ep-3 back here, sir."

"No, as in, where do you think you're going?" He turned to Zack and kneeled at his side. "Did he tell you what direction he was headed in? Any specific locations? Coordinates?"

Zack thought back on it. He glanced at the woman he'd rescued. Renni was now beginning to administer the first small injections of biofoam on wounds in her arms.

"I-...yeah, he said he was going to-…" He shook his head clear. "Northwest. He was going northwest." He turned to the Staff. "He said he'd meet me here, but..."

The Staff stood up and rounded on Nova who was no longer alone. Duncan was already at her side.

"Ep-8?"

"I'm going too, sir."

Yuri lifted up his seat bracing. "Well, if they're going then I'm going."

Hector and Rico made a similar move. "The more the merrier right?" The latter said.

"Hold it." The Staff stepped out in front of them. "You're all staying here. Ep-2 and 8, you're going."

The others were taken aback.

"Hey, wait, how come only those two get to go?" Rico asked.

"Yeah, they could use the extra help." Hector added.

"Ep-1 to Feret-2-1, how much fuel do you have left timewise?"

"About enough to stick around for another 15 minutes, sir." The pilot reported. "After that, we're all in trouble."

"Copy." He returned to Duncan and Nova. "And that's how much time you have to look for him."

The two nodded.

Seeing that the rest of the squad was ready to protest, the Staff addressed them. "Everyone else stays onboard. That's an order."

"But we can help." Yuri pressed.

The sound of straining drew their focus to Zack. The ODST was trying to force himself back onto his feet but with little progress. "I can help too."

"No."

"But, I can-…I can move."

"You're in no shape to run back out there, trooper."

Proving his point, Zack's arms gave out from under him and he collapsed back onto the floor. Through exasperated breaths, he wheezed; "We can't leave him, sir."

"I know. I don't want to leave him either." The Staff gestured to the duo at the ramp. "So, you two be quick and look hard. Move out."

Nova left without a word. Duncan ran after her. As the former took the lead, the latter followed her wake in a dead run towards the meadow's northwestern end.

:********:

The first Brute emerged into the small clearing where it hoped to find its 'prey'. Its eyes locked on to the 'human' at the center. It went straight for the target, straight for the piece of sliced fatigues tied to a branch of a solitary rubber tree.

It searched around with its spike rifle, scanning for signs of movement. In the end, it found none and reluctantly advanced on the rubber tree. A clawed hand reached and tore the dark fabric free to bring it up to its flaring nostrils. It took in deep whiffs of dirt and sweat in an attempt to relocate its quarry.

It continued sniffing even as the scope of the SRS-99 centered on its left eye. The helmet it wore and even its shields would provide of little defense against a 14.5-centimeter slug through the pupil. With a gentle squeeze of the trigger, Deaks turned his hypothesis from theory to reality for the fifth time in the day.

With a buck of the stock against his shoulder, he was greeted with the sight of dark blood and bits of cranial matter flying out across the grass. He was already removing his rifle from the branches of the sweet almond tree and running off by the time what was left of the Brute landed on its back.

One down. Two more to go.

Having finished his northwesterly rush, Deaks picked up the pace on a southwesterly arc across the forest. He was happy to see that one of his traps had worked. Using the Brutes' sense of smell against them was proving effective. If the last one was anything to go by, the other two were likely also moving off course, away from Zack. From hereon they were following him alone. Perfect. He always wanted to have a bunch of Brutes to himself. Not alive of course, but he was going to change that one bullet at a time.

Running along a smaller footpath descending around the base of a hill, he slowed to plant his rifle on his back harness, slid out Silver Buddha from her sheath and sped up. He brought up his free-arm and got to cutting. Three quick swipes scaled loose a strip of black fabric from his fatigues. It was the sixth strip he'd cut off of himself and hopefully his next lucky ticket.

The further west he went, the more of the white-flowered almond trees he came across. He found most on lower elevations, prompting him to prioritize lowland areas. Their white spires emitted a strong almond scent that masked his own when he stuck close to them, allowing him to vanish off the Brutes' radar for a time. Once the next one got close, he would handle it before it had any idea he was there.

He found another good prospect in the form of several almond trees at the western end of a small clearing. He stopped to tie his newest cloth strip around one of the branches of an elm tree. Finishing the knot, he dashed over to the almond trees and picked the biggest one. He plopped his rifle across a branch, centering it on the elm. With a set of bushes covering his legs and his upper body likewise shielded by the tree's white flowers, he waited.

A minute passed.

The next series of howls echoed off in the distance. One was promisingly closer than the other.

Several seconds later, a tall and stocky silhouette came stalking through the shadows opposite his position. The figure passed into the light of the clearing, revealing itself to be one of the two blue-armored Brutes. It looked around and sniffed. The scent trail turned its growling maw towards the nearby elm. It aimed its spike rifle in its direction. Upon spotting the fabric, it growled louder, angled its head skyward and unleashed another long howl.

The response chilled Deaks. The second howl sounded impossibly close, probably no more than 40 meters away and somewhere off to his right. He realized they were trying to encircle him, or at least what they thought was him. That didn't mean they couldn't accidentally stumble across the real thing.

He needed to move before they boxed him in. He took aim.

The Brute sniffed again, turning away from the elm towards a new scent. Towards him. The moment it lay eyes on him, it growled even louder, raising its rifle. Deaks beat it to the punch. Like a picture, the muzzle flash imprinted the Brute's enraged face on his retinas as the round struck through its roaring mouth, repainting the oak behind it a dark blue. The alien toppled back and fell into a deadened heap.

Another howl sounded off that was too close for comfort.

Deaks lifted his rifle and bolted. He headed north over a set of low hills in an attempt to avoid the last Brute approaching from the south. On the way, his frantic mind swam with questions that he could hardly answer. The most vital one was how the second Brute had managed to find him. He eventually calmed enough to figure out the reason. These things picked up on the emotion-based pheromones emitted by their own kind as well as those of other species. In his case, they had literally picked up on his heightened fear and excitement. If the last one could find him because of that then he was in trouble. The third would undoubtedly do the same.

He needed to calm down even more. He focused on controlling his breathing in an effort to relax. It was easier said than done when he was sprinting for his life.

Leaping down across a rocky berm, he stopped to catch his breath. He felt disoriented. He looked around to try to get his bearings. Ahead of him, the trees thinned out and the ground gently declined towards a wide ravine. On the other side, a rocky escarpment rose sharply into the air, standing at 20 meters high and several times that in length. Topped with thick shrubs and shadowed by tree canopies, it was the perfect vantage point.

Though he saw no almond trees, the distance from the ground and this potential position were too good to pass up. As he sprinted down the decline, he reached the banks hemming in the small stream that slithered through the ravine. He stopped at the oak nearest to the water. With Silver Buddha, he dexterously sliced away another cloth strip, this time from around the base of his neck. He looped it through a small hole in the trunk and tied it tight.

Next came the swim. He dashed into the stream which proved surprisingly deep. He tiptoed across the streambed, fighting the mildly powerful current all the way to the other side. He crossed the banks, angling for a path he'd spotted that ran up the escarpment's face; a craggy depression that would give him a vertical path to the top.

Being the squad's best climber came in handy as he made one handhold and foothold after another. Nearing the top, the amount of jagged surfaces ran out, leaving half a meter of open space between him and the upper edge. He steeled himself, tensed his muscles and jumped for it.

His right hand caught the edge. His left slipped off, putting a strain on the right. He forced even more of a strain by pulling himself, his armor and gear up to a more manageable height one-handed. The second he was close enough he hooked his left hand up over the edge and grabbed what felt like roots. Giving them a solid tug assured him they wouldn't give way. He pulled, bringing himself up enough to throw one leg over and then another. He rolled away from the edge and into the safety of the underbrush.

Still breathing hard, he scrambled back up and sized up his surroundings. Of all the shrubs and canopy-cover that bordered the edge, he focused on a boulder that was just the right size to support his rifle. What sold him on it was the light covering of bushes that surrounded it from the side facing the ravine. He crouched down behind the boulder, shook it a little to test its balance then brought out his rifle. He laid out the bipod with the care of a loving father, shouldered the weapon, set his scope on the area around the cloth strip and hoped his recent bath in the stream would mask his scent profile.

He waited.

Thirty seconds passed uneventfully.

He waited and watched more closely.

Nothing happened.

Impatience started setting in.

There was still nothing besides the sound of running water, the vanilla odor of the nearby oaks and the warm breeze passing over his neck.

Deaks fought down the urge to punch something. Where was the last Brute? It had sounded close. Was it hiding or was it simply wasting his time?

The breeze passing over his neck turned from warm to cold then warm again.

Deaks froze.

He wished he hadn't noticed it, how the air passing over his neck changed from warm to cold, while in the other areas where his fatigues were torn away, he felt a mildly cool wind. A wind that was now moving from north to south, from his left to his right, while the one at his neck was blowing right on him, not in a chaotic and natural manner, but very controlled.

Like hot, stinking breath.

:********:

There was silence for the longest time, nothing but the calm sway of the trees.

Then suddenly that silence was broken by a hollow CRACK that echoed through the forest and was quickly swallowed up by it.

But Duncan heard it. Looking ahead to Nova, he saw that she did as well. As they ran down a foot trail, she peered back at him. "That was Ep-3."

"No doubt about it. Let's hurry."

They doubled their speed, leaving the trail for the underbrush. They moved northeast in the direction of the shot. They passed around the breadth of a large hill before arriving at the foot of an east-facing escarpment.

"Sounds like it came from up there." Nova said and pushed on. Duncan followed her. Along the way he checked the mission timer he had running in the upper left corner of his HUD; '10:05.' The numbers were reassuring in that it took them less than five minutes to get where they were. Hopefully, all three of them would make it back with time to spare.

They sprinted up the last of the incline and began weaving through the trees to where the elevation leveled off into the escarpment's flatter topside.

"See anything?" Duncan asked.

"Not yet. I-…"

"What is it?" He tensed when she raised her rifle at something further up.

"I think I see...hold on, let's get closer."

He shadowed her on a course for the landform's eastward edge. The sound of rushing water from what was probably a ravine reached his ear.

Then she suddenly stopped, halting so fast that he barely avoided bumping into her. He was about to ask what was wrong when he glanced past her and saw exactly why she had stopped.

Ten meters ahead of them, near the edge stood a figure that could hardly pass for an ODST or even as human. Just shy of two and a half meters tall, its height rivaled that of Spartans. The same could be said for its golden armor, the black tufts of fur matted beneath it and the wing-like extensions of its headpiece.

Alarmed, Duncan raised his assault rifle, worried about the scythed grenade launcher on its back. Nova didn't move a muscle. He cautiously stepped towards her to get her attention, knowing they would need to either take it on together or back away slowly. But his boots betrayed him and dragged a few rocks along the ground.

The Brute's ears perked up. It turned, its angry-red eyes darting in their direction.

Yet in moving, it showed Duncan why Nova was motionless. As it turned, an ODST come into view, hanging off the ground not by the strength of his own arms or legs but by the blood-soaked fangs of the maw that was clamped around his neck and shoulder.

He was limp, motionless, no better than a rabbit caught in the jaws of a wolf. Blood seeped down across his armor and ran through the holes in his fatigues. Duncan's mind went blank. Then he saw the two items that justified his growing dread.

The ownerless sniper rifle lying uselessly against a boulder just behind the Brute.

The butcher's knife still sheathed on Deaks' armor.

Time crawled past at a snail's pace as they stared down the Brute who eyed them in turn, their focus drawn to their comrade fastened between its jaws.

Then the corporal's arm twitched, breaking the spell.

Nova drew up her rifle and fired, screaming as she did. Duncan quickly backed her up, joining in a fully-automatic onslaught. They aimed for the Brute's left side in the hopes of avoiding Deaks.

As the bullets pinged off its armor, the Brute howled. With a shake of its head, it cast Deaks from its mouth before dashing behind a nearby oak tree. The corporal sailed a full meter to the forest floor, tumbling over himself before landing in a bloody heap.

Nova ran for him. "Cover me!"

"Covering!"

Duncan hardly had any time between the word leaving his mouth and seeing the Brute swivel out from its tree-cover, its grenade launcher leveled. It fired.

Nova changed course and threw herself aside as two of the projectiles crashed along her trajectory, filling the ground between her and Deaks with explosive force. Two more sailed Duncan's way but he was already moving, leaving them to whisper past as he slid to safety behind a strong-looking elm.

"Ep-2!?"

Nova reappeared, bracing herself behind a neighboring oak just as two more shots crashed into it. "Right here! Can you see Ep-3 from your position!?"

Duncan carefully slinked to the side of the tree and looked out. Through the shrubs, he saw the corporal lying on the ground between them and the Brute. His butcher's knife had been broken off and lay a short stretch away.

"I got eyes on him!"

"How is he!? Is he breathing!?"

Duncan sized up the corporal's condition. Blood was now spurting out of the mangled mess between his neck and right shoulder in rhythmic bursts. It was beginning to pool around him. Almost utterly still, the only signs of life were the slow rise and fall of his back and his hands which clawed at the dirt.

"He's breathing but its faint! He's losing a lot of blood fast!"

The clinking and sliding of metal on metal sounded from the Brute's position.

"It's reloading!" Nova said. "Ep-8, cover me and I'll cover you! We need to advance within frag-throwing range of this thing then recover Ep-3 ASAP!"

"Copy!"

"Alright, moving!"

As Nova rushed out, Duncan wheeled out from cover to target the Brute. He raked one of its exposed legs, forcing it to keep back while Nova jumped behind a closer tree.

"Your turn!"

"Moving!"

Duncan headed for Nova's old cover. Almost there, the Brute reemerged with its grenade launcher. It got off a single shot before steady bursts from Nova's battle rifle drew its attention her way. Out the corner of his eye, Duncan saw the projectile soaring in and leapt ahead of it, tucking and rolling away from the resulting explosion. The blast still hurled him forward. He clambered to his feet and crouched down behind the next position. He took up the slack for Nova as she pulled back, reeling from two shots that blew chunks of wood out of her cover.

The launcher's barrel shifted his way but he dipped ahead of the muzzle flash. Two shots bit into the tree at his back, spewing out heat and a shower of shards. He turned around to fire only to see that the tree was nearly hollowed out, hanging on by a few jagged innards.

Another muzzle flash across the way forced him back to cover. This time, the explosion scythed through the tree's wound in a wash of concussive force that tossed him away. His head rattling, he got to his knees when he heard a groan and noticed a shadow rapidly descending on him. He barrel-rolled aside before the giant tree trunk came crashing down.

He came up into a crouch and pivoted towards the origin of the fire, but the Brute was already running to a new position, reloading along the way. Duncan did the same, catching its eye for a moment before the two of them reached their new positions.

Duncan braced himself against a thin birch tree that he quickly realized wouldn't afford him much protection. He checked on Deaks.

The corporal was now crawling. One hand was slowly reaching out after the other, clawing into the earth and dragging him across the ground. He was steadily moving towards the fallen Silver Buddha.

"Ep-3!" He shouted. "Stop moving!"

The corporal kept going.

"Ep-2, he-"

The Brute reappeared, sending a trio of projectiles whispering his way. Duncan hurled himself into a bush, barely escaping the birch's fiery decimation. He ran away from where it was falling and dashed to the safety of an elm. He looked for Nova and found her repositioning to an oak closer to the edge. She fired from behind it. He moved to join her, unleashing the dregs of his magazine into the alien's chest.

The Brute ignored him and honed in on Nova. Two shots struck her cover, gutting the trunk but not completely obliterating it.

Duncan figured it had run out of ammo.

A nod from Nova said she thought the same. "Finish off its shields!"

"Copy!"

The two wheeled out together, intent on finishing the job when the Brute fired off another round. The projectile punched into the oak tree, scything it asunder in a blast that launched Nova into the underbrush.

The Brute slid back to cover.

Duncan did the same. "Ep-2!?"

No answer came.

He looked to where she'd landed but could see nothing beneath the jostled shrubs. Anger flooded his veins. He slipped back out and started drilling the Brute's cover, attacking every spot where the tree failed to compensate for the alien's size.

"Frag out!"

Duncan heard Nova's voice a ways behind him. A frag grenade arced beneath the canopy, right over his head, flying in the Brute's direction. But he could see that it was going to fly past it.

A Hail Mary.

He aimed.

As the grenade passed the Brute's cover, his reticle found it.

He squeezed off two shots. Both hit their mark.

The grenade detonated in front of its target with a resounding WHAM!

The burst of light and heat blew its armor away and threw it hard against the tree at its back, cracking the wood. The smoke quickly cleared to show that the Brute had taken the full brunt of the blast, leaving it with nothing but its leathery undersuit and a launcher that had been blown uncleanly in two.

Bringing the two damaged halves of its weapon up to its face, it angrily cast them aside. It turned to Duncan. He flinched at the sight of its snarled face. Its fiery eyes bore through his own, leaving behind only a primal fear. The Brute roared and charged at him with furious abandon. Duncan pulled the trigger.

Click.

The sound made his heart rise into his throat. The Brute was rapidly closing the distance as he frantically reached for his pistol. Gunshots struck the Brute. It shielded its face and turned to the source. Nova had risen up from where she'd fallen and was firing three-round bursts into its center of mass.

The Brute roared again as it glanced between them, not sure which to target first. Then something caught its eye. It pivoted towards it.

Still struggling to unholster his sidearm, Duncan traced the Brute's path. His heart sunk into the pit of his stomach.

Deaks was right in its line of sight. Having crawled almost the full way along a small break in the underbrush, he was nearing where Silver Buddha lay.

Nova saw what it was going for as well and fired in greater haste, aiming for the creature's head. But her target weaved beneath her rounds, leaping from left to right in a merciless stampede towards the corporal.

Duncan dropped the idea of pulling out his pistol and ran out in the hopes of getting to him before it did, of dragging him aside to give Nova the chance she needed. But the fallen oak in his way forced him to go around and he came out near the eastern edge of the escarpment. By then, the Brute was much closer.

"EP-2!"

"I'M TRYING!"

The Brute proved faster.

Deaks' hand was reaching for Silver Buddha's handle as the enemy's shadow descended on him from behind. The first thing to reach him were its jaws which clamped down on his wounded shoulder, reclaiming its hold with a burst of blood and a snapping of bones.

Deaks didn't scream. Managing only a weak groan, his hand finally reached the handle and grabbed on as he was pulled away.

The Brute lifted him up with the strength of its mouth alone, sending the sheath spiraling away from the knife's head. Deaks hung onto it with a death grip.

Duncan could do nothing but watch as his comrade was tossed about like a ragdoll in the maw of a dog. The Brute flung him around while its teeth dug deeper into him, opening his wounds even more, securing him as it flung him hard on the ground, against a tree, through the air before slamming him on the ground again and again. Blood sprayed out onto dented tree trunks, crushed leaves and reddened soil.

Nova's fire ceased. "I CAN'T-, I CAN'T GET A CLEAR SHOT!"

Deaks crashed against a tree so hard that his helmet came loose and spiraled off into the forest, exposing his paling face to the elements. He was weak, dazed, drained as blood flew from his mouth. His tired eyes rolled out lazily from the back of his head, locking Duncan in their exhausted gaze.

Duncan stopped. Rather, his body stopped responding to his brain. He froze in place less than a few meters away. His comrade's stare paralyzed him, leaving him motionless before the turning enemy. The Brute rounded on him, biting down on its limpening quarry as the animalistic fury in its eyes burned into a blood rage. It charged towards him on all-fours, leaving Deaks' legs to drag alongside it.

On the edge of his periphery, he saw Nova running after it, shouting something at him while she reloaded.

Reloading.

He'd forgotten. The MA5C became heavier in his hands. He could see the ammo-counter at '0', he could see the magazines in his armor, he could see the exposed forehead of the beast charging at him. What he could not see was how to escape the fear that held him in place, and even then, how he could kill the thing in the mere seconds he would have before it killed him.

Without any warning, his fear reversed course, from flight to fight. Before he knew it, he was slapping a fresh magazine inside, sliding the first round home and aiming at an enemy that was a few seconds shy of bowling into him. He squeezed the trigger and refused to let go, unleashing a bullet-storm into the creature's hide.

Behind it, Nova fired into its exposed back.

If they did any damage, the Brute was not keen on showing it. It pounded on unabated, its ever-growing rage unwavering.

Panic set in. Duncan sensed that he was going to die here, that this would be the end of him, of all of them. As if to affirm this, his rifle gave a CLACK; empty.

There was no time to reload, only enough time to watch as the Brute closed in, bearing up its arms to lung for his throat.

Then, at the last second, a flash of silver.

Duncan winced as the Brute staggered before him, losing all momentum as it kneeled from its newfound agony. Lifeblood streamed out from its teeth. It strained to bare its head up. In doing so, it revealed the hilt of Silver Buddha sticking out from underneath its lower jaw. Just the hilt. The Brute struggled to let out a pained roar, revealing the head of the knife that had stricken through its tongue and buried itself deep into its upper palate, into its cranium. More of the dark liquid spilled out onto the forest floor.

The hand at the handle also struggled, its owner straining to pull himself up so that he was face to face with the creature. Bruised and pale, bloodied and dirtied, Deaks met the Brute's death glare with his own. His voice came out in a half-choked growl.

"I'm takin' your teeth."

The Brute's ire rose. It bit down deeper into his shoulder, releasing a new flood of bleeding. Deaks winced from the agony but responded in kind, driving his blade further up into its jaws. Both stared the other down in a mixture of rage, hatred and pain.

Still, the Brute bit deeper. Deaks' grip began to falter.

However, the corporal had given Duncan enough time to run up to the Brute, plant the barrel into its chest and unleash his newest magazine. He fired point-blank into its torso. He screamed at the top of his lungs into its face as his ammo counter dropped precipitously with each muzzle flash and blackish-blue spray.

Nova came up behind it, releasing her own battle-cry as she punched in a new clip and hammered the Brute's back.

Amidst the flashes, Deaks pressed Silver Buddha in once more, glaring at his enemy with intent to kill and receiving the same look in exchange. Neither backed down.

The two rifles gave loud CLACKs, empty again.

Duncan reloaded. Nova cast hers aside, pulled out her M6 and unloaded it into the back of the Brute's skull. Duncan quickly mirrored her, pressing the MA5C's barrel into its forehead and squeezing the trigger for all he was worth, continuing to scream as if that too would help to kill the enemy.

Then finally, the Brute seemed to recognize that it was being shot.

It seized up, its eyes rolling back. It teetered for a moment, balancing on the threshold between life and death. Then the weight of its wounds pulled it backward, taking Deaks down with it. It collapsed onto its back, motionless.

Duncan and Nova quickly ran to its side. They each grabbed hold of a part of its jaws and began to pull. After a bit of struggle, they heaved them apart.

Nova took hold of Deaks. Duncan held the Brute's upper jaw. She nodded, signaling him to start pulling. He heaved with all his might and she hers. Together, they slowly pried its teeth out of the trooper's body. Blood immediately pooled out onto their hands.

They dragged him to a nearby spot of open ground within the underbrush and laid him down.

Duncan saw what he expected to see; a number of jagged holes punched through armor, fatigues and finally deep into the flesh beneath. He also saw what he hadn't expected. The main wound was on his right shoulder and it was easily the worst. It wasn't a wound as much as a near dismemberment. The shoulder was utterly torn open as well as much of the base of his neck. He could see clearly the purplish-red masses of ripped tendons and the crimson of shorn muscles, the pinkish white of a broken clavicle bone and the blackening visage of a dislocated joint.

The wounds were grievous.

To his horror, through the hole in the base of his neck, he saw the faint movement of the muscles within which tensed as the corporal drew in a faint breath.

Duncan fell to his knees, speechless.

"Ep-8?" Someone called in a voice that sounded too far away.

"Ep-8? Ep-8!? DUNCAN!?"

He shot out of his daze, realizing it was Nova.

"Y-, yeah, I'm here."

She was pulling out a cloth and forcing it into the shoulder wound. "Help me with this."

He took hold of the cloth.

"It's an arterial bleed. Apply pressure to it and don't let go, you understand me?"

"...Roger."

He applied pressure while she crawled over to Deaks' side. He was barely conscious, seemingly willing his eyes to stay open. She grabbed hold of his hand and squeezed it. "Come on. Come on, Ep-3, hold on. I need you to hold on for me, okay?" She looked back the way they'd come. "W-, we-, we'll take you back to the-," She shook her head, regathering her thoughts. "We're going to get you out of here, alright?"

Deaks blinked in response. That was all he could manage.

Duncan noticed that the cloth was taking a long time to soak things up. Then it dawned on him that the corporal's blood pressure was worryingly low. Far too low to-

Duncan felt a hand weakly grasp one of his own. It was Deaks.

"Don't...waste that on me."

Duncan' breath hitched in his throat. He tried to say something, anything to reassure him, to reassure himself. His mouth opened and became stuck that way.

With the little mobility he had, the corporal slowly turned his head to Nova. "Let me-…let me see it. I want to see it."

Nova hesitated. She looked up at Duncan then to Deaks, uncertain. At length, she cautiously cradled his head in her hands and turned it for him. Duncan withdrew the rag so that he could see it.

He looked straight at the wound. His bloodless face showed no hint of a reaction. None besides two that shook Duncan to his core; acceptance and quiet resignation.

He nodded in understanding.

She slowly laid his head back down. Deaks sucked in a breath and blinked away the blood falling into his eyes. His good hand, the one not attached to his shattered shoulder, arose from the ground. It reached into his armor's collar. He dug around in his fatigues for a long moment. At finding what he was looking for, he pulled. Something inside popped. His hand reemerged, carrying the blood-soaked metal of his dog-tags.

He held them out to Nova.

She shook her head. He nodded for her to take it. She shook her head more forcefully. He reached for her hand which balled into a resistant fist. He still had enough strength left to pry her fingers apart and laid the tags inside. He clasped her hand tight as it began to shake, as she began to shake.

Then he let her go, leaving them in the palm of her glove.

Deaks' hand came back. This time, it crossed over his barely rising chest to the wound in his shoulder. He started reaching and feeling around inside. Duncan thought to stop him but knew that by now he was well beyond the point of feeling pain.

Deaks plucked up something then felt around until he found another, and another, then two more. After a few seconds he came out and reached the bloodied hand to Duncan who held out his own.

Half a dozen bloody canines fell into his palm. They were large, each one the size of his thumb.

Teeth from the Brute.

"Duncan."

The one to whom the name belonged flinched. It was the first time he'd ever heard it said, at least from the corporal's mouth. He met Deaks' exhausted gaze.

"You know...what to do, right? I showed you."

Duncan knew what he meant. His throat hurt too much to answer. He nodded instead.

Next, Deaks reached into one of the pockets on his person. He drew out another Brute tooth, this one much older and less fresh than the others. Epsilon's sniper passed it over, letting it rest amongst the other teeth.

"Remember that story I told you...about that Marine that rescued me?"

"Yeah."

Deaks lipped his drying lips. "If you ever see him...give this to him for me. Tell him-...tell him...the kid he gave it to...got his own. You'll do that for me...if you see him...won't you?"

Duncan nodded again in his best attempt to assure his squadmate, his friend that he would do it. "It's a promise."

A howl sounded off in the distance.

Duncan and Nova looked around. Though they couldn't see anything coming, they knew it was close. They weren't out of danger yet.

"You guys should get going." Deaks said. "I'll be fine."

Nova shook her head even more vehemently. Her voice cracked. "No, we-, we can't."

Deaks looked from her to his other squadmate.

"She's right." Duncan said. "We won't leave you."

"You can't carry me...out of here. You don't have time."

"We know."

Deaks became faintly confused. "So why-..." The revelation dawned on him in that moment. Through the rustling canopies, the sunlight finally found his face, if briefly. The confusion was washed away, replaced by the tired but no less understanding embers of a smile.

"You won't leave me behind, huh?"

Duncan shook his head.

Deaks gave a slow nod of his own. "Alright...give me a minute."

Duncan and Nova watched as he settled his head on the bare dirt, nestling into it to get more comfortable, as though it were a pillow.

They watched as his eyes closed.

His breathing began to slow.

Then true to his word, after a minute, it stopped.

His smile faded.

Duncan reached for the corporal's neck. His two fingers touched the side.

There was no pulse.

Nova looked to him.

He nodded back.

The two remained there, crouched at Deaks' side. Both began to quake with the beginnings of grief. The situation forced them to hold it in for now. There would be a time for it. With his vision hazing over, Duncan just hoped that it would be soon.

He stood up with an overwhelming desire to do the opposite. He headed for the Brute. He found Silver Buddha still sticking out from its lower jaw. He grabbed the handle, braced a boot against the corpse' chin and pulled. It was hard. The blade was wedged deep in its head.

His struggling caught Nova's attention. "What're you-"

A final yank pulled the knife free. Duncan headed back, whipping the blood onto the ground and wiping the remainder off on his fatigues. He wanted to make sure it was clean. Once it was, he crouched down at Deaks' side again. He reached for one of his hands, the bad one attached to what remained of his right shoulder, and rested it on top of the corporal's chest. He planted Silver Buddha's handle into Deaks' palm and wrapped his fingers around it.

He and Nova observed the scene as Epsilon's sniper lay with his famous blade. He looked to be sleeping peacefully, his eyes shut. They would remain forever shut.

Having spotted something of interest on the Brute's belt, Duncan went back to it to pull it off. He came back holding the orange-glowing cylinder of fiery destruction; a Covenant incendiary grenade.

Nova spotted it and stepped in front of him. "Woah, wait, what're you doing?"

Duncan swallowed the lump in his throat. "Cremation." he said with a calmness that haunted him.

"Wh-, wh-, why? Why would-"

Duncan pointed to the dead Brute. "We can't leave his body to them. Once they find out we killed one of theirs, they're going to take him as a trophy. You know what they do to humans they catch. Dead or alive, it doesn't matter to them."

At that, the two looked over at Deaks, the corporal at rest.

Nova shakily inhaled and breathed out with equal difficulty. "Okay." She forced herself to step aside.

"No, you need to go on ahead of me." Duncan pointed in the direction of the Pelican. "Just to make sure at least one of us makes it back in time."

Like him, she checked their mission timer: '4:35'.

It wasn't enough time for anything other than a mad-dash to the landing zone. Nothing less.

Nova relented. "You better be right behind me, Ep-8."

"I will."

She moved off. Stopping at Deaks' side, she took one last look at him. Then she ran.

Duncan approached his comrade's body with weighted steps. He raised the grenade. His arm seized up midway. It felt no different than if the corporal were still alive. He fought down the urge to stop. He eyed his friend's savaged body, hoping to remember him as he was before his final moments. He prepared himself.

A commotion drew his eyes rightward. Further north on the escarpment, a large silhouette was bounding past the trees, stomping over the bushes. He could make out the shape of the massive gravity hammer on its back.

A chieftain was coming.

As it emerged from the shadows, it stopped 20 meters shy of him upon spotting the corpse of its fallen kin. Duncan could feel the creature's rage from where he stood.

It was now or never.

He thumbed the grenade's activation strip, causing it to glow a brighter volcanic orange. He took one last look at Deaks, looked defiantly at the Brute and hurled the grenade.

On impact, an inferno blew out across Deaks' body. Duncan saw the flames quickly consume him all the way up to his face. Then that too was swallowed up in the blaze.

The chieftain bounded towards him.

He ran. Pushing past the fire, his mind forgot its earlier grief and focused solely on one thing: survival.

:********:

Archoneus dashed towards the fire, a symbol of the storm of emotions burning through his spirit. Confusion. Sadness. Anger. Wrath. All of it pulled him forward.

His long chase had finally led him here, to this escarpment in the middle of nowhere, to find his second-in-command, his packmate dead. Karagim was gone, and never before had he felt such relief and elation conflicting against such rage; a burning desire for more revenge.

He wanted to be the one to kill him. Even if he had gotten his chance, there still would have been no way to avoid this conflict within, not with someone like Karagim.

The human shock trooper from before had stopped to eye him defiantly before dropping an incendiary grenade, not on Karagim, but on a dead trooper lying close by. Then it ran. Like a coward, it ran.

Archoneus halted at the side of his packmate's body. The growing scent of burning flesh from the dead human threatened to overwhelm his senses. The other human had acted wisely. They had disposed of their comrade's body before he could take revenge on it. They were at least wise. Wisdom did not mean they would be fortunate. Not against him.

With a building growl, he let loose a bellowing howl into the wind, informing the rest of the pack that had followed him of the situation. Howls answered in reply, confirming that they weren't far behind. He set his sights on the human that was now beginning to put some distance between them. He took one last look at Karagim's corpse. Having been robbed of the opportunity, Archoneus charged after his killers, intent on repaying them in full.

:********:

Duncan shot through the trees, keeping one eye on his route and another on his timer:

'3:20'

He kept moving.

The bloodthirsty howl of the chieftain reached him. So did those of the rest of its pack a short while later, sending a clear message running down his spine.

He comm'd Nova. "Heads up, I've got Brutes headed my way! Sounds like a whole pack! Are you there yet!?"

"Not yet! Still a ways to go!"

"Copy! We'll make it!"

"We better, Ep-8! Now hurry it up!"

Duncan quickened breath and pace, shooting up roads and along footpaths, around hills and across shallow ravines. He saw no sign of Nova. The most he came across were boot-prints headed towards the landing zone. It was reassuring. There was at least a higher chance she would make it, that he would save someone else from this if he could, even if that chance wasn't much better than his own.

A new round of howls sounded off. They never seemed to be that far behind. However, one of them sounded far too close. If he had to guess, it was the chieftain. The fact that it was the angriest sounding of them all was a dead giveaway.

He kept moving, never letting up for a second's rest, ignoring the fire building in his lungs and the fatigue pulling at his legs. Anything less than top-speed was tantamount to him forfeiting his right to live.

With the encroaching howls, he wondered if even his best would be enough.

He eventually rechecked his timer: '1:21'

Despite his efforts, he felt no closer than he was before.

Nova comm'd him. "Ep-8, I'm at the LZ. Where are you?"

Duncan was about to answer when he heard an angry growl and bounding footsteps some ways behind him. He didn't dare look back. "I've got one right on my six! Might want to get something ready or this thing's coming aboard with me!"

"Alright, just make it to the landing zone."

"Copy!"

Duncan pushed harder. He felt himself beginning to suffocate, his legs ready to buckle. The presence at his back grew louder and closer. He bobbed and weaved down a hilly slope and came into a flatter area. Barely breathing or even trying to anymore, he made it to where the forest began to thin out around him.

He looked ahead. There beyond the thinning tree-line was the meadow. Somehow, he managed to stumble through it into the larger clearing.

The Pelican lay less than 30 meters away. Beyond its open door, the members of Epsilon were ushering Nova inside. She was closer and ran up the ramp into the safety of the bay. She turned back with the others. Their sights settled on him. They looked relieved and gestured for him to follow suit.

Duncan ran, although by then he was stumbling between every other step. His legs were giving out from underneath him. He tumbled to the grass but rolled back onto his feet and started again, only to tumble and roll away again.

A roar sounded behind him. Like a crack of thunder, his pursuer cannoned through the last branches of the trees and into the meadow. He could feel the thing pounding towards him. He kept ahead, struggling to look forward. That didn't help either as he saw the others flinch at the sight of what was coming after him. Their calls for him to hurry became less relieved and more panicked by the second.

With each stride he took, he heard the Brute getting closer. With each of its strides it was covering three of his own.

He felt like he was running without actually getting anywhere. His steps through the grass were closer to that of those in sinking sand. He sensed the distance between him and the Pelican widening as that between him and the chieftain closed.

A shadow enveloped him.

Something solid punched him unbelievably hard in the back, hurling him headlong into the grass. Thoroughly winded, he turned to see that the Brute now towered over him. Its mouth contorted into a snarl, it roared down at him and raised its hammer for an overhead swing.

A stream of bullets struck it in the chest. The chieftain staggered back mid-swing, its shields flaring.

The Staff's voice shouted over the comm and in the air.

"RUN!"

Duncan's body took over and the desire for flight kicked in. He rolled outside of the range of fire before he got up and started running again.

He spotted the Staff firing a hastily setup turret from the Pelican's bay. Everyone else had also moved to fire their own weapons. The sight of their visor's lighting up with each shot gave Duncan the strength he needed. He hightailed it the last of the way, running up the ramp before grabbing onto an overhead handle.

The chieftain recovered and resumed its dogged chase just as the Pelican's ramp lifted. Though the door finally shut, it could not shut out the sight of the Brute still chasing them through the rear window.

Then the dropship's fusion drives gave their own roar, one that kept building up until the Brute leapt towards them.

But it was too late.

The drives blasted off, throwing the chieftain back in a wash of turbulence as the Pelican rocketed into the air.

:********:

Archoneus pulled himself back up, coughing.

He caught a glimpse of the human dropship flying off into the west. The craft had blown him clean off his feet. There was no chance of catching it. He was too far away from any kind of pursuit craft. He could do nothing more than watch as his quarry escaped into the clouds.

His rage still bubbled within. He suppressed it, holding onto it for now until he found a good occasion to satisfy it.

He turned back to see the rest of his pack emerging from the tree-line. He counted them. They were slightly over a dozen in number. The thought threatened to reignite his fury. In little time his pack had been cut nearly in half. They had lost so many back at the facility. Karagim's pursuit of the humans had only worsened their situation.

But, in a way, the humans that killed the rogue captain major had done him a favor. With his anger subsiding, he could think more clearly. With Karagim dead, the humans had unwittingly helped him restore the proper hierarchy of authority in his pack. Perhaps it was wrong of him to merely try to kill them. Perhaps he should have thanked them and then killed them.

He turned back in the direction of the fleeing dropship. Their escape would have to serve as his show of thanks.

One of his pack stepped out and asked. "Chieftain, what do we do now?"

Chieftain.

Archoneus savored the name and its meaning. All of it was his and his alone, and now there were none to contest it.

"We will go back." Archoneus said. "Contact the commander. Tell him we are in need of a transport."

"Yes, chieftain."

:********:

Save for the resonance of the fusion drives, silence persisted throughout the Pelican's bay. The air was rife with an unspoken tension that centered around the last two members of the squad to come aboard.

Duncan knew the question was coming. One look at Nova told him she was thinking the same thing. At her seat near the door, she took off her helmet to expose her reserved face. There were cracks in her guise: the glistening in her eyes and the twitching in her clenched jaws betrayed what she was hiding.

Finally, the Staff released his grip on the turret and turned to the two. His visor was depolarized so that they could see the worry being restrained behind his gaze.

"Where's Ep-3?"

There it was, the question laid bare.

Duncan had no strength of will left to force his mouth open. Neither did Nova.

Then the Staff's attention along with everyone else's drifted to Nova, specifically to the bloody dog-tags that dangled from her fist.

No one said a word.

The Staff looked at it for a while before repolarizing his visor. He walked past them to the cockpit. "Feret-2-1, increase our speed. See if you can catch us up to the LT."

"Roger that, sir, I'll see what I can do."

After that, he took his seat.

The silence resumed and the air became heavy. Neither the ONI scientists, the Lieutenant Commander nor the troopers moved to break it. Heavy-lidded eyes drifted to the floor or disappeared behind polarizing visors.

For the rest of the journey, all they would have was the thrum of the fusion drives outside and the creaking of metal as the tags swung from Nova's hand like a pendulum. Soon, she respectfully slipped them into her pocket. Yet their creaking chime persisted long after they were gone.

Dentes - Teeth