This chapter is supposed to tie in directly with chapter 2 of my other story, Missing in Action. Basically, a rehash of the same events, just from a different perspective.
Byzas, Thracia Province, Actium
6 May, 2545
SSgt Dijon "D.J." Jabim, Quebec Company, 5-597th PIR, 3rd ABCT, 222nd ABN
D-Day: H Hour plus Three
"Captain, three minutes."
D.J. glanced over as Captain Rabinowitz cleared his throat and tapped his microphone. "Actual to all White Knight elements: three minutes until touch down. Men, keep in mind that while we may be landing in a cleared LZ, these Pelicans are slated to take a full load of civilians back up to orbit. So, the moment we touch down, please clear the ramp as if we're landing under fire. Actual, out."
Lowering his mic, Rabinowitz glanced around the bay. "All of you got that, right? Clear the ramp as soon as you can, so we can get these civilians out of here."
"Yes, sir!" the Soldiers in the bay recited. For his part though, D.J. gave a thumbs up in acknowledgement before returning to his air drumming.
Maintain a tempo of a hundred and twenty beats per minute on the hi tom, then steadily increase to one eight over the course of the bridge, throw in some cymbals upon reaching the crescendo-
"Yo, D.J.!" Demirci called from the other side of the Pelican. "What are you working on now?"
"My magnum opus, I think!" D.J. yelled back. "I've been working on this for a while now, and I think this might be my best piece yet!"
"Don't you say that for every song you ever write?"
"Well, yeah," D.J. cheerfully admitted, "but this time I really mean it. I think this is really it!"
"Yeah? No shit? What you gonna call it?"
That gave D.J. pause. "Not sure! Have to wait until I hear it in all its entirety before it tells me its name!"
"Hey! You should name it after me!" Demirci suggested.
"Why'd I want to do that?" D.J. yelled back.
"'Cause I'm so fucking awesome!"
D.J. let out an appreciative laugh as Demirci preened. "That you are, my friend, that you are."
"One minute."
"One minute," Rabinowitz repeated. "Troopers, on your feet! Get ready!"
D.J. unbuckled his harness and climbed to his feet, drums still banging in his head as he grabbed his weapon and double checked he had both his handheld and his manpack radios. Their folded antennae brushed against his face as he turned to face the rear of the Pelican, but having been an Air Force TACP for almost three years now, he was used to the sensation.
"Thirty seconds! Standby, we're opening the ramp!"
With a whirl of electrical motors that was quickly lost to the wind, the Pelican loading ramp slowly lowered, revealing the battlefield for the first time. Having spent the last two or so month fighting in a jungle, the sharp contrast between the white snow and gray concrete buildings took D.J. by surprise, and he found himself rubbing his face to try and get rid of the spots in his eyes.
The Pelican abruptly jerked to a stop, which nearly caused D.J. to lose his footing, before it began plunging straight down like an elevator, its engines screaming at the sudden increase of power. As it descended, the scene outside also began to shift, first revealing the empty stands of a stadium, before the aircraft got low enough for D.J. to see the massive crowd of desperate civilians, all of whom were barely being held back by a line of Byzas police officers and UNSCAF Rock Apes.
"Standby…"
There was a loud thump as the Pelican touched the ground, but Rabinowitz was already springing into action.
"Jackalopes! Follow me!" he roared before charging out of the Pelican like he expected the dropship to get swatted out of the air if it sat on the ground for too long.
Standing at the rear of the chalk, D.J. had to wait until everyone else had moved, but he soon found himself surging forward, thundering down the ramp as fast as he could without slipping. Even before he had fully cleared the path, the line of police officers and airman finally gave way, and a wave of civilians went charging up the ramp to replace the soldiers who had just disembarked.
"Sorry, sorry!" one of the civilians yelled as they ran right into D.J., and would have knocked them both over if D.J. hadn't been able to catch them.
"Whoa there, buddy, take it easy," D.J. lightly said. "You're almost home free; don't mess it up by spraining your ankle or something, you know?"
"Yeah! Thank you!" the civilian distractedly replied as they all but threw themselves into the belly of the Pelican. Before D.J. could do anything else, a pair of strong arms grabbed a hold of him and yanked him off the ramp.
"D.J.! Stop messing around!" Xanthus yelled, sounding frazzled as usual. "We got too many birds coming in to land to be wandering around, and we still gotta figure where we need to go! Let's go!"
"Yeah, I'm with you Sergeant!" D.J. amicably replied and allowed himself to be tugged away from the crowd.
He did glance back though as the pulsating thrum of hybrid fusion drives reigniting filled the air, to see the Pelican begin to lurch back into the air - its cargo bay filled with nearly five times as many passengers as it was designed to carry - as the officers on the ground hurriedly shove the unlucky civilians who were unable to board back to a safe distance to await the next flight. Shooting the Pelican a quick two finger salute, D.J. mentally wished the flight the best of luck before turning to catch up with Xanthus.
Xanthus led the way to the players' dugout at the base of the bleachers where the remains of Quebec Company had assembled. Quickly looking for 1st Platoon, D.J. spotted Demirci crouched nearby, using the bipod of his SAW as a sort of crutch to lean on, and jogged over to join him. He jumped as D.J. plopped onto the ground beside him.
"Oh, it's just you," Demirci said, sounding disappointed. "And here I was, thinking you had pussied out and joined the rest of your Chair Force people in running back to orbit with your tail between your legs."
"Can't get rid of me that easily, my friend," D.J. cheerfully returned. "After all, you Army pukes need some serious adult supervision."
"I thought Ma was our adult supervision."
Ma looked up from her spot a couple of lengths away. "Like hell am I takin' responsibility for you, motherfucker. And be glad for that fact 'cause if you were my kid, I would have aborted you in the first trimester."
The rest of the platoon burst out laughing as Demirci sputtered indignantly, but D.J. gave them no mind, having already mentally checked out of the conversation. Instead, he was doing what he always did whenever he entered a new battlefield: scanning the skies.
On the way down from orbit, he hadn't been able to see much, but now he had a clear view, he was dismayed to see how busy the skies actually were. Between the already present UNSC rotary craft, the incoming trans-orbital dropships bringing reinforcements in and ferrying civilians out, all the surface-to-air ordnance being launched, random ground-based indirect fire, and of course the Covenant, the sky was filled.
Demirci abruptly threw some snow at him. "Hey, you alright?"
"Man, I hope the 53rd guys had the foresight to set up a forward air control center, because this is going to be one heck of a challenge to coordinate if they didn't," D.J. distractedly said as he pointed up at the sky.
Demirci gently bumped shoulders with him. "Hey, man: aren't you supposed to be 'Mister Optimistic all the time?' Be optimistic."
D.J. turned to grin at him as he spotted Rabinowitz running up towards them. "Hey, I didn't say it was a bad thing, just that it'll be a challenge. But, hey, it is what it is and we'll deal."
He finished his sentence with a sharp whistle and pointed at Rabinowitz, drawing everyone's attention to the Captain as he joined them.
"Alright Quebec Company, listen up! We got our marching orders," Rabinowitz announced. "With all of Byzas under siege, the military's main goal is to get as many civilians out of the way to clear our lanes of fire. This stadium we're sitting in right now is part of that effort, being one of the main evacuation zones in this sector of the city. Because of that, the Covenant are pushing hard to break through."
"I don't know if you guys can hear all that gunfire, what with all the flak and everything, but that's coming from the stadium's defensive perimeter, which as we speak, is getting hammered, hard. There's one section about seven blocks away from that's about to get overrun: we're going there to reinforce them. All officers, senior NCOs and squad leads, location is being sent to your TACPADs now."
A chorus of pings suddenly sounded and D.J. glanced at his TACPAD strapped to his forearm.
"Sir," 1st Platoon's commander suddenly spoke up. "Seven blocks is pretty far; I don't think we're going to make it in time, not on foot, and not as heavily burdened as we are."
"Which is why we're going to commandeer some wheels. All these people?" Rabinowitz gestured at the civilians still pouring into the stadium, "They can't all have come in on foot or via public transportation. We'll head out to the parking lot first, grab some abandoned vehicles that still run, and move. Any questions? Then, Jackalopes, move it out!"
"You heard the man!" Xanthus roared. "On your feet, Paras! Move!"
D.J. scrambled upright and followed the rest of the company as they ran for the exit. Crowds of civilians were still trying to enter, but upon seeing the horde of heavily armed soldiers dashing towards them, they were quick to move out of the way. A couple of civies cheered, but for the most part, they were quiet, their eyes filled with terror and panic.
Exiting the stadium without any further fanfare, they emerged into the parking lot where, true to prediction, was filled with civilian cars and trucks haphazardly parked all over the place. Some were parked neatly between the lines, while others were just abandoned in place with their engines left running and doors hung open, as if their owners had seen the arriving Pelicans and rushed to the stadium out of a fear they would somehow be left behind.
"Break up into teams of four! Find some wheels, and double time it please!" Rabinowitz ordered and somehow, D.J. found himself grouped up with Demirci, Ma, and Xanthus.
"Find a vehicle that's not hemmed in by anything else," Xanthus commanded, before jabbing a finger forward. "There! Let's go!"
Ma spoke up before D.J. could. "Really, Sarge, a fucking minivan? What, we going to a ballet recital or something?"
"Corporal Asfaw, does it really fucking matter what we use?" Xanthus snapped.
"Look, Sergeant, all I'm saying is, if I'm going to roll into battle, I'm going to look good doing it."
"Can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Ma," Demirci murmured, before pointing at a pickup truck that just rolled up. "Why don't we take that?"
"A fucking Sandcat? Really?" Xanthus said skeptically.
Ma, Demirci, and D.J. all turned to him with affronted looks, but Demirci was the first one to open his mouth. "What you got against Sandcats, Sergeant?"
Xanthus shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Fine, let's just go!"
They jogged up to the truck as the owner – some middle-aged looking man – was reaching into his backseat and pulling out his son.
"Excuse me, sir! Are the ships still coming!? Are we still able to make it out!?" the man frantically asked.
"Yes, sir, you're fine: ships are still coming in, just go to the stadium and wait with everyone else," Xanthus impatiently commanded. "Citizen, we need your vehicle."
"Yeah, take it!" the man urged as he hurriedly grabbed his bags. "I don't need it anymore and better you guys, than the Covenant!"
"Daddy, Mister Wolfie!" his son abruptly cried and D.J. looked around to see the kid had dropped a stuffed animal wolf onto the ground. Before the dad could swoop down and grab it – and potentially drop his son – D.J. snagged it off the ground.
"Hey, buddy!" D.J. cheerfully said as he handed the toy back. "Mister Wolfie is safe and sound, see? Just make sure you hold onto him tight when you get onto the ship, okay? Because he's probably just as scared as you are."
"'m not scared," the kid insisted, even as he refused to meet D.J.'s eyes. D.J. chuckled.
"Well that's great, buddy, because Mister Wolfie is scared. See how his tail is tucked between his legs?" as he spoke, D.J. made sure to manipulate the stuffed animal so that it looked like the tail was down. "So be sure to give him some extra hugs to make sure he feels safe, okay? You think you can do that?"
The kid seemed to think about it for a second, before nodding.
"My man. Come on kid, give me some love," D.J. said, extending his hand for a fist bump. The kid quickly returned the gesture. "Ooh, wow kid, take it easy with that power fist you got there!"
"Sergeant! Let's wrap this up, we gotta go!" Xanthus brusquely snapped.
"Yeah, I got it!" D.J. yelled back before turning back to the kid. "Sorry, buddy, gotta go." To the father, he added, "Good luck out there, sir."
"You as well, Soldier!" the man replied as he ran off. "Thank you for your service!"
"Matilda, get behind the wheel, you're driving!" Xanthus barked as D.J. rejoined them. "I'll navigate. D.J., back seat. Leo! You're in the bed!"
"Why I gotta ride in the back?" Demirci immediately complained.
"'Cause you're a junkyard dog, that's why," Ma retorted.
"But, like, a cute one," D.J. hastily added as he ripped the booster seat out from the truck's cab and carelessly tossed it to the ground before climbing inside. "Like a Corgi or a Shih Tzu."
"…I don't whether I should be insulted or not…"
"Figure it out later," Xanthus ordered. "You're in the back because you got the SAW and if we run into trouble, you're going to have to lay down covering fire for us to get out. Corporal, take this main route and keep going straight until I tell you otherwise. Floor it!"
D.J. barely had enough time to sit down before Ma slammed down on the accelerator, and they took off into the city. Shoving aside food crumbs, random toys, and a few broken crayons, D.J. glanced out the window. The streets were crowded as civilians continued to stream towards the evacuation zone at a steady rate. Most people were on foot, carrying nothing more than the clothes on their backs, leaving the roads cleared for military and emergency use. Despite the palpable sense of fear in the air, things were surprisingly orderly – then again, given how militarized Actium was even before the arrival of the Covenant, perhaps that was to have been expected. That being said, a few people were of course still taking advantage of the lack of law enforcement to loot some of the nearby stories, but even they had curtesy to not get in anyone else's way. All in all, it was clear the evacuation was well underway, yet still, D.J. couldn't help but wish there was something more he could do to help out.
Then he spotted her…
She was standing on the street corner, the train to her white gown billowing in the wind, a bouquet of wilting flowers held tightly in her small hands. Her wedding dress was embroidered with lace and gold, but despite the thinness of the fabric, she didn't seem to notice the cold. The surrounding crowd seemed to pass around her, giving her a wide berth, almost as if no one dared to intrude on her personal space. And though the veil she wore masked her face in shadows, there was no hiding the sad, blue eyes that seemed to pierce a person's soul. D.J. stared at her as the convoy rolled by, struck by a sense of familiarity and kinship even though he knew nothing about this woman, or her situation, only that she was alone and -
"D.J."
D.J. blinked and glanced at Xanthus, who was looking at him with a look of concern on his face. "You alright?"
"Yeah, Sergeant," D.J. lied, before patting the seat next to him. "This is a nice truck, you know? Sucks that we can't bring it with us, you know?"
"I know, right!" Ma replied. "These seats are comfy."
"You guys only think that 'cause you're sittin' in the cab," Demirci disgruntledly yelled from outside the vehicle. "Its freezing back here – and Ma's fucking driving ain't helpin! You know, I sooo want to make a joke about women drivers right now!"
"Better not! I have a grenade launcher you know, and it will fit up your ass with the proper amount of force!"
Xanthus let out a loud sigh. "Jesus Christ; what is wrong with you people!?"
"Man, this feels just like a road trip, doesn't it, Sergeant?" D.J. couldn't help but muse. "You, the father who just can't get a break, and us the obnoxious children. Yep, just like a road trip alright."
"You realize we're driving straight into a warzone, right?"
"You only say it that way because you've never been a Jabim family road trip, Sarge."
"I don't even know what that means, but it doesn't matter because we're almost there. Everybody, weapons up," Xanthus barked. "Ma, take this next right, and we should be coming up on the MLR- "
FWOOZFWOOZFWOOZ!
D.J. instinctively ducked behind Xanthus' seat as the Sandcat was immediately hit by high velocity plasma fire the moment it turned the corner. Two bolts slammed into the windshield – leaving some nasty burn craters and warping the glass – while a third bolt slammed into the truck's hood, causing it to pop open. At the same time, Demirci screamed, "CONTACT, FRONT!" and then all D.J. heard was the extended roar of his SAW.
"Get out!" Xanthus roared. "D.J., Demirci, cover up! Ma, get the fuck out!"
D.J. immediately kicked the door open and climbed onto the running board, using the car door itself for cover. Planting his rifle on top of the doorframe, he yelled, "Ma, keep your head down, I don't wanna to accidentally shoot you in the back of the head. COVERING!"
With that, he started firing.
As sad as it sounded, the familiar pressure of recoil against his shoulder almost felt like coming home. He pulled the trigger as rapidly as he could, his gunfire joining with Demirci's as they attempted to gain some sort of fire superiority over the Covenant. Bright orange tracers from his rifle streaked downrange, flying past blue and green plasma bolts heading in the opposite direction, creating a morbid display of lights and sound. Bullet casings spat out and landed onto the rooftop beside him before rolling down onto the ground below. The noise alone was devastating, but D.J. hardly noticed, so focused he was on laying down fire.
"Reloading!" Demirci warned.
D.J. didn't verbally respond but instead, started panning his rifle left to right as he swept the street with rifle fire, switching from point targeting to general suppression. The incoming fire seemed to falter for half a second, before it rapidly picked up once more and D.J. winced as a purple crystal shattered the window, spraying him with glass. "Mother… truckers!"
"Hey, I'm back up!" Demirci yelled as he resumed firing.
"Got it!"
"D.J.! Demirci! Move!" Xanthus suddenly bellowed and out of the corner of his eye, D.J. finally noticed Ma and Xanthus were cleared of the car.
"D, move! I got you covered!" D.J. volunteered, wincing as a blue plasma bolt lanced over his shoulder, missing his face by several centimeters.
"MOVING!"
The truck's suspension shook as Demirci leapt off the bed, landing on the ground and into a roll as if he had just parachuted out from a plane instead of a stationary vehicle. D.J. fired a few more shots and waited long enough for Demirci to make it into cover before moving to follow suit.
"Fuel rod! Fuel rod! INCOMING!"
D.J. jerked and glanced downrange where a Grunt had emerged with a fuel rod cannon on its shoulder.
"Oh dear…" D.J. commented before he took off in a dead sprint.
There was a flash of green-
D.J. was blown off his feet as the fuel rod projectile slammed into the front of the Sandcat, causing it to erupt into flames! Fragments of melted metal and rubber and glass pelted the area, and D.J. jerked his head out of the way just in time to avoid getting hit in the face by a burning chunk of aluminum. Someone grabbed a hold of him, and D.J. looked up to see Xanthus hovering over him before he was shoved into the small alley the team was taking cover in.
"You're okay!" Xanthus declared after a very cursory scan. "Catch your breath, Airman, but make it quick!"
Stumbling further into the alley, D.J. nearly ran into Demirci.
"Man, the Covies ain't messing around, huh?" Demirci airily noted as he reloaded.
D.J. snickered, then pointed at the burning wreck that had been their ride a few moments ago. "Hey. Guess the Covies don't like Sandcats either!"
Demirci let out a wild cackle as he leaned around the corner and fired off an extended burst, allowing D.J. the opportunity to both reload and get his bearings.
The current main line of resistance was set up on the edge of a large traffic circle. On the opposite side, Covenant infantry were amassing as they attempted to assault their way through UNSC strongpoints, but a combination of machine gun fire, grenades, and a single Armadillo infantry fighting vehicle held them at bay. At least for the moment. UNSC defenses wouldn't hold forever, especially since D.J. could hear the sound of approaching anti-gravity engines in the distance. That, coupled with the plasma mortars passing by overhead and pounding their rear told him that the Covies were gearing up for an all assault on this position.
"- XANTHUS! SERGEANT XANTHUS!"
D.J. instinctively looked up at Rabinowitz's shout, even though it wasn't his name being yelled. He spotted the Captain taking cover behind the Armadillo and without thinking, he dashed over to join him there.
"- more fire support as these Straight Legs are about to fall back," Rabinowitz was telling Xanthus as D.J. joined them. "Take over their positions and give me some fire discipline. Move out!"
"Sir!"
"Sergeant Jabim!" Rabinowitz snapped as he turned to D.J. "You hear that? The approaching vehicles? Covies are about to make a renewed push, and we're going to need some fire support if we want to make it through this! FISTers from the 53rd have made a nest up there in that building!" he jabbed his finger at a building on the edge of the traffic circle where, in the third floor, there was a rooftop patio that overlooked the entire area. "Get up there and go help them pull the chain on all the fire support you can get me!"
"Yes, sir!" D.J. yelled.
"Private Demirci: go with him and make sure he makes it intact and in one piece!"
"Roger, sir!"
"Alright, guys, wait for my signal!" he ducked his inside the Armadillo and D.J. could hear him call out, "IFV! Covering fire, now!"
The Armadillo abruptly opened fire, spitting out 40mm and machine gun fire from both their main cannon and coax at the same time. "Move now! GO!"
D.J. needed no further prompting. Tucking his rifle under his arm, he made a beeline for the building, working his way around and over the various sandbags and bodies in his way. Ducking as a burst of plasma splashed against the doorframe just as he reached it, D.J. threw himself into the building, landing heavily on the ground with a loud grunt.
"C'mon, man, GET UP!" Demirci snapped as he yanked D.J. to his feet. "Stairs! On the left!"
D.J. sprinted up the stairs and for the next few seconds, all he could hear was his and Demirci's heavy panting. As they reached the third floor staircase, two yellow dots appeared on his IFF tracker indicating friendlies, and D.J. paused at the exit from the stairwell long enough to cry out, "Friendlies! Approaching from your six!" then emerged onto the balcony.
Two UNSC Soldiers – both wearing the shoulder sleeve insignia of the 53rd Armored Division – were positioned there, taking cover in a small, impromptu, sandbag pillbox. Between the two of them, they had a dismounted manpack radio set up on the ground with the antenna fully extended, a single data pad, and their service rifles, though neither Soldier was shooting. Taking a deep breath and allowing a friendly smile to grace his face, D.J. threw himself into the pillbox beside them before cheerfully calling, "Good morning, everybody! Air Force Staff Sergeant Dijon Jabim, attached to Quebec Company, 5th Battalion of the 597th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 3rd BCT, 222nd Airborne Division. Call me D.J. How y'all doin' this fine morning?"
The two Soldiers exchanged incredulous looks before one of them replied, completely deadpanned, "Well, let's see: my garrison planet is being invaded by nightmarish monsters intent on wiping out all of humanity from the face of the universe, almost all of my friends with whom I grew up with are either dead or wounded, and my unit has just spent the last few hours getting its ass kicked from one end to the next. How the fuck do you think we feeling!?"
"Yeah, okay, no, that's fair," D.J. sheepishly admitted. "Dumb question, hopefully this one is a bit better: you the forward observers?"
"Yeah!"
"Great! Then, what I need from you guys are access codes to the B-Net so I can start vectoring in close air support. You have any idea what sort of aerial assets we got in the AO?"
"No idea! Here, just take this!" the Soldier snapped before shoving the data pad in D.J.'s direction.
Switching it on revealed the data pad was already connected to the local Battle Network. Scrolling through the pad, D.J. discovered it granted him full access to everything, including but not limited to: unit call signs, radio frequencies, authentication codes, and friendly positions. It was everything he needed to do his job, and D.J. quickly started to copy everything to his TACPAD so he could give the pad back.
"Whoa! Where the fuck are you guys going!?"
Demirci's shout caused D.J. to look up, only to see both 53rd AD Soldiers had gathered up their weapons and moving to vacate the area.
"You guys are our relief, ain't ya?" the Soldier from before sneered. "So, we're pulling out and let you guys take over, like you're supposed to."
"You're not going to stay and fight?" D.J. asked, surprised.
"Fuck you! We've been fighting all morning! Now it's your fucking turn!"
And before D.J. or Demirci could say any more, the two Soldiers immediately fled down the stairs.
"Those fucking… pussy-ass Legs!" Demirci derisively spat in their wake.
"Yes, that too is what I look for when I'm at the club," D.J. distractedly replied as he began scrolling through the list of available fire support assets in the area of operations; if the FISTers were leaving, then he was going to have to play the role of both JTAC and FO. And right now, with the amount of assets they had… SkyHawk attack aircraft from Theater Command, Vulture gunships from Actium Colonial Militia, Wombat UCAVs from Orbital Defense Command, Sparrowhawk attack choppers from the 53rd AD's heavy combat aviation brigade, even a few Hornet assault VTOLs from the planet's assigned SOCOM section… and those were just the aerial assets! Ground support included 120mm heavy mortars, 160mm siege mortars, six inch SPHs, towed 122mm howitzers, and more.
"Wha- oh, I get it. Still, what the fuck! Fucking pussies! What are we gonna do?"
"What we have to," D.J. roughly replied. "We- oh, snappers!" he exclaimed as a series of new call signs abruptly appeared on his data pad.
"What? What is it?"
"Looks like… 53rd AD's parent unit, the XIV Armored Corps, just released some corps artillery assets for our immediate use: 227mm Wolverine multiple launch rocket artillery."
"Ain't that a good thing?" Demirci anxiously asked from behind D.J. "More artillery?"
D.J. jabbed an angry finger towards the sky. "You see how busy these skies are, Private? Do you understand how difficult this is, trying to coordinate everything so that our artillery doesn't accidentally shoot down our own birds? Last thing we need is more ordnance flying through the air; we got enough fire support, we need more infantry to man the line!"
Before Demirci could respond, D.J. grabbed his handheld. "White Knight, this is Winged Serpent."
"Go for White Knight."
"Sir, FISTers have bugged out. I'm the only left up here, so I'm assuming direct control of all fire support on this sector of the line. Given the difficulty of trying to coordinate everything by myself, I'm hereby declaring the airspace closed directly above our lines; all friendly aircraft must remain at least three thousand meters above sea level, and can strike at no Covenant targets within five klicks of the MLR unless directly called in by a TACP or JFO. All close fire support will instead be provided by ground based artillery and mortars. You copy, White Knight?"
"I copy!" Rabinowitz immediately replied. "Winged Serpent, I'm giving you full authorization to do whatever you have to make sure we get our fire support in a manner that doesn't cause friendly fire. Anyone gives you any problems, direct them to me and I'll set them straight. In the meantime, we've got Covenant inbound, and we need some immediate fire support. Anything you can do about that, over?"
"Standby. Break, break."
Shifting his data pad and radios around to form a mini command center, D.J. cracked his knuckles as he considered what he needed to do first.
"D.J.! What do you need me to do?" Demirci worriedly asked from behind him.
"Watch my back. This is going to take all of my concentration," D.J. distractedly murmured before grabbing a radio. It was time to bring the rain. "Panther-6, this Winged Serpent: fire mission, over…"
General Notes
This was a bit of an experimental chapter, in the sense I tried to write a sort of "Ted Lasso" inspired character, which is why it's more a dialogue heavy chapter than an action one. It didn't quite work out.