Atlas Moons, city of New Gettysburg. Anton Suslikov, 17 years old. Two hours after the blockade of Tunnel South.
I quietly coughed into my sleeve before opening the door to the maintenance tunnel. While I was walking, I threw up once, but it seemed like no one heard.
My burned hand hurts, my head is throbbing, my ribs ache, but I have to keep going. Sooner or later, the Covenant will discover the door, and then I'm finished. I have the strength; I need to keep moving. I don't want to die. I don't want others to die. Now, thinking about it for a moment, I think about twenty people were left in the tunnel. Soldiers, classmates, civilians… and I don't even really know who survived.
I saw Igor get mowed down; Lieutenant Kovalenko definitely stayed in the tunnel too. And the others? While I was resting, I strained my memory, trying to remember. No, it's not working. I know it's wrong, but that's how it is. They died there, and I couldn't do anything, and I don't even know for sure who died there and who managed to escape. Maybe if I had done more… My hand hurt from hitting the wall. Nonsense, what can I do against a Brute? And there were several of them there.
Maybe reach the machine gun, but I don't know how to fire it; they would have killed me sooner. And they definitely would have noticed. I know I did the right thing, but it's hard not to think about what could have been done. As soon as I sit down, thoughts start crawling into my head; it's impossible to relax. So moving and enduring the pain is the lesser of two evils, in a way. I stumbled. Damn, my head. I leaned against the wall, waiting for it to get easier. I tried to rest three times, but I couldn't relax. The gunfire, and the adrenaline, it seems, aren't well-suited for resting.
Plus, you jump at every rustle, expecting a Brute to come around the corner and end it. In the end, after sitting for a bit, I moved toward the exit. The hatch gave way easily and quietly. Lifting it slightly, I stopped. Will they react or not? But no footsteps are heard; no mighty paw flings the hatch cover open and drags me into the light. It seems clear outside, or they haven't noticed me yet. I need to look out. Come on, man, you can't be seen. Anddddd…
I don't know what I was hoping for. Probably that the worst was behind me. That things wouldn't get worse from here. That it would all end. No. Peering cautiously out of the hatch, I wanted to scream. The city had transformed. The first thing visible even from the courtyard the tunnel opened into was that the city was burning. Numerous fires were breaking out in and around buildings. Flashes were visible in some windows. Maybe gunfire, maybe something else. And smoke, many smoke trails reaching for the heavens.
A hum sounded overhead, and I slammed the hatch shut with a jerk, froze, and started listening. It didn't sound like the noise of rotors or the roar of rocket engines. More like a whistle, an unfamiliar one. I could find out if I looked, but to hell with that kind of entertainment. The hum lasted about twenty seconds, and then the sounds returned to how they were before. After waiting a few more minutes until my heartbeat calmed down, I looked out again. The hum of engines, explosions, and shots. And lots of smoke, blackened trails on the white buildings. But no one is paying attention to one specific hatch.
There's no one in the courtyard, which is good, I guess. I can climb out, breathe the air that smells of scorched plastic. Though the stench is perfectly palpable even through the crack of the hatch. I don't know what I should feel about all this. The smell of burnt meat is wafting from somewhere. Okay, Anton, you're just stalling. Like a gopher in a burrow—maybe that's a funny joke in any other situation. Or maybe just weird crap is getting into my head. After all, it's one thing in the tunnels, where the threat can only be from the front or the back. On the street, it can come from anywhere; even a passing Covenant ship could spit plasma, and you're gone.
A blue drop fell from the sky, after which it became very bright for a second. When I wiped my eyes, another building had turned into a massive torch, settling in a cloud of dust. It's hot even to look at it, though it's clearly several blocks away.
"Mmmmother. That's exactly, fucking exactly, what I mean."
Tunnels provide some protection from aerial strikes. I don't want to be hit from the air! But who gives a damn what I want. Even I don't give a damn. Okay, look around one more time and then forward to glory! "So, where is everyone?" Nothing resembling large ships in the air. There are enough dots darting here and there, but the big stuff isn't visible, probably in orbit. And the smoke shrouding the sky is in the way.
I can go out. Can I? I didn't have advanced military training like Inga; I studied to be a pilot! Right now, it wouldn't be her strong and athletic figure that mattered, but practical skills. Those who get into the school at the academy while still in high school already have a lot of practical knowledge by the time they enroll. Urban combat, first aid, weapons, and stealth. Physical training is important; the girls from there don't complain about figure problems. But these skills could actually save lives right now. But I have no idea where she is now. I hope she's somewhere safe, as much as that's possible there.
The now-familiar howl of shells rang out. Now that's our artillery pounding away. A pop, the roar of a shell, an impact, and the ground trembles. Again and again. Somewhere not very far away. Exactly where isn't visible, unfortunately. They're pounding the Covenant; I don't need to go there. And that kind of crashing is truly terrifying; I don't want to go anywhere. But I must, I must move. If the Covenant captures the planet, I'll die here. And Inga, and those who survived, are probably somewhere nearby. If anything, evacuation will also be with the soldiers.
Right now, any passing Covenant soldier could kill me without a problem. But that doesn't make the situation any easier. I can stay here, where they aren't trying to kill me right now, or go where they almost certainly will try to kill me. And don't blame me for stalling in this situation. Anyone would.
"It's decided, I need to move. Well, forward," the hatch cover swung open with a quiet thud, letting me out into the world.
Swaying slightly, I ran along the wall. Maybe I won't be as noticeable from the air. And the courtyard leads to a road. There's much less transport here than there was in the tunnel; you could drive through if you wanted. There are enough parked cars along the road; in theory, I could run behind them. A few cars abandoned on the road with bullet holes. Two trucks, a burning bus.
And around it… mmmmother. I started feeling nauseous again; charred bodies are lying here and there around the burning bus, some of them smoking. Probably an air strike. Those cars over there have riddled hoods too, but the doors are open. Maybe people survived. In the end, the street is empty. Everyone who could, I assume, is hiding. Only you, like an idiot, are crawling forward. So, where to next? Then a hum sounded, and I dove back into the yard. Peering cautiously from behind another abandoned car, I noticed a pair of blue single-seat vehicles with wide noses racing past on magnetic cushions.
I know those: "Ghosts." Patrol. The tall aliens sitting in them in blue armor are probably Elites. They didn't notice; they flew past. Okay, I need to move. I can't be this lucky forever.
"Well, time to go."
The first dash was successful. I managed to reach an empty car with signs of shelling. It's good that the enemy isn't there. The gunfire in the background is a bit nerve-wracking, but as long as no one is interested in me, that's good.
"Hey! Kid!"
I turned around, looking around. In the nearest building, a door is slightly ajar, and a man in a suit is waving. Civilians! Alive! And most importantly: they're humans! Okay, no unnecessary squealing. He was probably watching the patrol, just like me. I felt like slapping my forehead; if it had been an enemy… But it turned out okay.
At the entrance are two burned-out buses and several cars. The side looks torn and melted; I assume it was evacuation transport. But there aren't many corpses. Did they escape? Good if so. But the ones that are there smell of burnt meat. Brrr. Look around, make sure no one is watching, and then dash by dash, dash by dash. Damn, more noise! Lie down behind the nearest car and don't move; maybe they won't notice.
From around the corner, to the roar of a machine gun, a M12 Warthog rolled out. The three-seat jeep with a machine gun firing backward raced down the street. Behind it were three more Ghosts, firing at the human vehicle. Not very accurately; the gunner is scaring them off pretty well. A burst hit the nose of one of the Ghosts; the anti-grav under the chassis glowed bright white, causing the Covenant vehicle to be tossed up with a strained howl, after which it exploded, scattering debris in blue flames. The pilot fell onto the road surface like a burning sack and went still.
The other two raced past the dead one but kept their distance. When the M12 Warthog drove past, I could see that the passenger was clearly hanging off the seat rather than shooting. Wounded or killed, shit. All three drove around the corner, and soon everything returned to the distant sounds of battle.
Okay, time to go get acquainted with the survivors. No one there? No one. Great. Three more dashes later, I practically jumped into the building; the door slammed shut behind me. The man, upon closer inspection, looks about forty, in a fairly expensive suit. Inside were three more women and a man, clearly office workers; they probably just didn't have time to evacuate and decided it was safer to hide. All middle-aged, clearly not destitute.
What are they doing here? Compared to the somewhat dusty, scorched me, they look like high society. Though their physical condition isn't exactly stellar, to be honest. The man is quite fat; I don't think he'll get far without a car. The women clearly have more fat than muscle. The youngest is quite shapely, but that's clearly diets and bio-correction—softness, not musculature. So they basically had no choice but to hide. Looking me over, a woman concluded:
"You don't look too good, soldier. Sorry, if we have a first aid kit, I have no idea where. We can look, I guess, but no guarantees. The kits might have been taken during the evacuation."
I coughed.
"Cadet of Atlas Academy, not exactly a soldier. Looking for people. There's a bit too much Covenant outside."
The older man nodded.
"Yes, they're flying and driving around out there. Transports, small planes, sometimes on the ground. Apparently, humans are holding the orbital elevator; we're thinking of getting there. The fact that they haven't blown it up yet is a good sign. It means the Vice Admiral is still holding the defense. I think if we move carefully, we can get there. What do you say, kid? What should we call you, by the way?"
Well, it sounds okay. Roughly the same thing I was planning to do. The problem is actually getting there.
"My name is Anton. And the idea is good. Is there a plan? No offense, but you're not in the best shape," I tried to smirk while the second woman treated the wound on my head.
She found some antiseptic after all. Better than nothing.
"And I'm Dmitry, nice to meet you. And there is a plan: the tunnels," the man explained, "Route South goes straight to the elevator, very close beneath us. I think we can go through the maintenance corridors."
Oh. I shook my head and got a clip round the ear.
"Don't move!"
Yeah. But I need to explain.
"We won't make it. I was down there, on crowd control, helping with the evacuation so they wouldn't crush each other. An hour ago, we might have made it; now the blast doors are closed and the Covenant is walking around. I was the last one to leave, I think. There were Brutes there, killing everyone. We could try crawling through the maintenance corridors, but if you don't know how to be invisible, we'll stay there forever. That's why I came to the surface—to risk finding another way; down there, you can only hide and pray they don't find you. We won't make it, sorry."
They grew visibly saddened at this news.
"That's bad. As you understand, cadet, none of us are athletes. A car isn't an option; they'll notice. Under the ground, you say, is also…"
"We can stay here," the woman said, "as an option. It's worked so far."
But the others immediately protested:
"If the Covenant wins, they'll burn the planet. If we leave, there'll be a chance to evacuate. We'll have to go, sooner or later. It'll only get harder later."
Not that it convinced the heavy-set woman. She frowned, looking at me.
"We won't be able to evacuate if we're killed, Walter," the woman countered, "even the kid doesn't look his best, and he clearly knows more about this than any of us. We won't get far without a proper route."
We need a plan, that's true. But we can combine the ideas of leaving them here and me.
"I can go call for help. I'm going to our people anyway."
Fat Walter protested:
"Kid, that's stupid. You have no idea where to go or where it's safe. Going out there and getting yourself killed just for the sake of doing something is a very stupid idea!"
I shrugged:
"Any better options?"
The man thought for a moment.
"Well, we can wait for another scout M12 Warthog and signal them. What I was trying to do when you showed up. Mobile units are driving along the streets that are still intact; they might bring a transport too."
Maybe it's a good idea for them, but not for me. I have to find my own.
"I need to leave and find my own people. Find out what happened to the rest of the group. Our whole class was in the tunnel, and they think I'm dead."
The objections were interrupted by a rising hum. Peering cautiously, I saw the halves of a frigate falling separately onto the city, leaving a trail of fire behind them. It looks like they're trying to brake with the engines, but they're just spinning around their axes.
"Oh, gods," the man exhaled, peering out from behind me.
The ship fell somewhere on the outskirts, but the impact was so strong the windows rattled. The nose slammed into the ground, then fell flat; the stern just collapsed, kicking up a cloud of dust, then exploded. A fireball was all that remained of the ship. The windows rattled from the sonic boom. Amazing. I've never seen an explosion like that. Debris hit buildings; a couple more began to tilt noticeably. Oh shit… I was pulled away from the window by my collar.
"Don't stick your head out! Idiot! They'll see you!"
Yes, exactly. I was looking carefully, but if the Covenant has thermal imagers, that would have been enough. My mistake.
"Sorry. I've never seen anything like that."
"None of us have, kid," the man sighed, "but it's better to be as invisible as possible. Come on, we have some food from the vending machine."
After a snack, I did feel better. But I still have to go. The fallen ship means the battle is continuing. And you can't tell in whose favor. So I told them again:
"I'm going there. I'll tell them about you when I get there," and I moved toward the exit, ignoring the objections.
Waving off the civilians trying to stop me, I went to the exit. Before going out, look around, make sure no one is there. Empty, and now a dash to the car and hide. Good. A voice came from behind:
"Come back, idiot!"
I turned to the man peeking slightly out of the door. He's leaning out quite a bit and gesturing for me to return. At least he's not shouting, but he's still too visible. How foolish. I took a position behind the car and waved my hand for him to hide. But the man continued to wave. So we argued with gestures for about a minute until we were interrupted.
A white beam hit the door, burning a hole, and the man fell to the floor, wheezing and clutching his chest. The door opened, revealing a view of that carcass with a burned hole in the center of the chest. His clothes caught fire around the wound, quickly losing that respectable look. Mmmmother! I met his gaze in complete shock as the man slowly dropped his head and stopped moving.
A sniper? A sniper! I need to warn them! I shouted loudly enough so they would definitely hear.
"Don't stick your heads out! There's a sniper here!"
"What?"
Another white flash flew into the building, and then very loud screams rang out. Damn! They'll hear us from a kilometer away! Shit-shit-shit! A hum sounded in the distance, and it's approaching. Where? Back, forward? I need to leave! Another shot hit the window, and I made my decision, dashing from one car to another, away from the building.
A white beam hit above my head, giving me strength and speed. A second one passed by, making me flinch from the wave of heat. Almost there, just a little more! The third one gifted me an ocean of pain, and I collapsed behind a car, screaming. My arm hurts just unrealistically. It feels like it's broken and on fire at the same time.
Looking at it, I saw a smoking and stinking stump. I don't have an arm. No arm. I don't have an arm, but why does it hurt so much, as if it's still there? I couldn't help it and screamed! How the fuck does it hurt so much! Endure it, Anton, they're coming here. Shut up if you want to see Inga! You're a man, you can take it! Yes! The stump was found on the ground a few meters from the car. It seems I just rolled here, and it, charred, remained lying on the road surface.
A hum sounded, and trying to endure it and not groan too loudly, I hid behind the car. They're here. Now either they'll notice or they won't. A red-purple wedge-shaped Covenant vehicle stopped at the building. An Elite is sitting on the turret; two more are holding on to the left and right. Approaching, two jumped off and ran into the building, while the last one, in the gunner's seat, as on a M12 Warthog, pointed the transport's weapon at the entrance.
I somehow crawled behind another part of the car and lay down, trying not to groan and to be as invisible as possible. Shooting broke out inside, then everything went quiet. The Covenant returned, said something to each other in their growling voices, boarded the transport, and drove away. Now the question: is the sniper still there? If he's somewhere there, the bastard will notice, and then it's over.
And why does the severed arm hurt? It burns, the bastard! It's gone already; how can it even hurt where it isn't? Trying to peek cautiously, I wasn't shot at. Did the bastard decide I was dead and leave, or is he not looking here? I hope so; I can still get to my own people. A rasping chatter sounded from the other side of the car.
Or maybe I can't. Leaning down to the level of the wheels, I saw two legs with three-toed claws in metal footwear. The figure walked up to my severed arm and picked it up. It rasped something. A crunch sounded, which made me really want to scream, curse, and be terrified. He's eating it! This thing came here to eat my arm for dessert! What the hell???
Meanwhile, the figure turned toward the car and chattered something. Fuck. He's not an idiot; he understands that if there's an arm, there must be the rest. And it seems he decided I'm tasty. But I'm against it! And with only one arm and no weapon. Where will he go, left, right? I pressed myself against the trunk as hard as I could, trying not to stand out as much as possible. Just don't notice me. Don't notice! A clang sounded; the creature jumped onto the car, continuing to say something in its chattering language. Hollow thuds sounded from each of the creature's steps.
The long purple barrel of its weapon passed over my head. What if I try? I'm not sure how to fire this, especially with one hand, but what do I have to lose? So I grabbed the barrel and yanked. An indignant crackle sounded, and then a lizard in armor, about my height, fell on me. It's hard to say who was more shocked by the result. The lizard had taken off its helmet, judging by the marks on its face, in order to eat.
In one paw is the barrel of the weapon, which it still hadn't let go of. In the other is my limb, which the creature also still hadn't released. I let go of the barrel of its weapon and am now trying to hold this carcass in a clinch with my hand. And I did the only thing I could think of: I headbutted the creature in the nose with all my might. I'd heard that reptiles have quite sensitive noses. And you can hurt a human too if you hit them right.
Judging by the fact that the creature dropped its weapon, jumped back, and grabbed its nose with both paws, I hit it right. Great, now I have its sniper rifle! Which I used like a club to hit the creature on the head. It staggered from the blow, but it intercepted the second swing and chattered something clearly angry and threatening. For some reason, a strange amusement came over me.
"Don't even think about it. This snack is going to fight back with everything it's got," and yanking it toward me again, I hit the bastard with my knee, "Like that?"
Not very successfully; the bastard is in armor. Now my knee hurts too. The only thing saving me is that the bastard can't shoot me; he has nothing to shoot with. The alien, apparently reading my thoughts, pushed his rifle at me, making me fall on my butt, and took something resembling a horseshoe from his belt. He pointed the open end at me, and a green flash burst from the horseshoe, and then it became unrealistically painful! I screamed.
Coming to my senses a bit, I felt a weight on my chest and the freak looking down with that same horseshoe in his hand. You really are an ugly one, aren't you. His foot is on the chest plate of my armor, and a claw is penetrating the hole, making it even more painful. And I'm sure the bastard knows it. I groaned, and the freak let out a clearly laughing chatter. The pain didn't go away, but anger appeared.
I'm going to wipe that filthy smirk off your face right now, lizard! Even if it's not a smirk at all! My hand found something heavy and long. Without looking, I did everything I could, spinning to the side, trying to hit my opponent with this thing. A very satisfying thud sounded; I like that. I didn't see the result of the blow itself, but turning around, I realized the bastard had stepped back a couple of paces and was shaking his head. You're in pain, good. I found it very funny.
"Like it? Have some more!"
I hit him again, making the lizard stagger back another step and drop his weapon. Dropping the sniper rifle, I grabbed the "horseshoe" and pointed it at the bastard. My hand fit quite comfortably on the grip. Seeing what I was doing, the lizard jumped. I, gripping the handle, pressed. And then again and again. Green flashes burst from the end of the weapon. A hiss sounded; the lizard shrieked, clutching at what, judging by the smell, was seared flesh. Then he fell, clutching his chest.
Pointing the weapon at his face, I fired three more shots. The enemy, this thing, this cannibal stopped moving.
Just in case, I kicked him a couple of times. He's dead! Dead!!! I burst into laughter, waving the weapon. I killed a Covenant soldier! Me! I killed him!
The fit of amusement was interrupted by a hum. Seems it's time to bolt. Holding my new pistol, I dashed into the nearest alleyway. Further and further. Running was even too easy. Finally, a couple of blocks away, next to a group of dead civilians, I ran out of steam. My heart is pounding wildly; my legs are giving way. It seems the adrenaline is wearing off. I sat down next to the dead, trying to catch my breath and examining the weapon.
My new pistol really does look like a horseshoe, but split into two halves and connected by a vertical strip in the middle. The inner part of the horseshoe is the grip, which fires when pressed. Green lightning runs along the split part. Plasma comes out from here. A great weapon. Deadly!
The crashing outside became monotonous but already a bit familiar. The arm looks like shit. Gutting the first aid kit of the nearest car, I injected painkiller and an antibiotic into my arm as best I could. It should help. Sinking back onto the ground so that the wall and the car covered me, I exhaled. I think I'll survive. Looking at my pistol, I relaxed slightly. It seems life is looking up. If anything, I can kill an attacker with this.
But I need to rest a bit. Rest…
***
Huh? What? Looking around, I realized I'd been sleeping. Sleeping soundly; an enemy could have approached without even trying.
But there's no one around, right? It's dark all around; the crashing is still in the background. I'm hungry… It's getting cold; there'll be a long night soon. If all this drags on, it won't be good. It's dark at night, and you can't see a damn thing. Looking around, I tried to jump up and realized the arm was gone. I flinched, tightening my grip on the pistol but trying not to hit the trigger. Everything that happened today came rushing back. Or was it yesterday? The drugs are still working; there's no pain. No arm either. The pistol is right here with me. My chest hurts a bit; it's a bit hard to breathe. I need to see what's up with the armor.
The problem is taking off the breastplate with one hand. Trying to lift it didn't work; it's pulling not just the clothes but the flesh too. There's no pain, but it's not good. It seems the body armor has fused with the meat. Okay, I don't seem to be about to die, and the attempt to touch it didn't really lead to anything; I don't have enough strength to rip it off with one hand. I need to get to the medics; they'll handle this better. Yes, I need to go.
"And-one," I rose with a groan, ignoring the hunger and thirst.
If you think about it, all the shit started less than a day ago, unless I slept through a whole day. Just this morning, today or yesterday, everything was fine. And the main problem was what to get Inga and what the schedule would be this time. But here we all are, in a burning city full of corpses, monsters, and burnt meat. How it reeks. And not to think about those people dying because of me. If I had stayed with them…
On the other hand, I didn't ask that man to follow me, right? He said so himself. AAAAAA, who am I kidding, huh? They could all be alive. I could have an arm. And now…
"I need to move."
Maybe I can atone, get revenge, probably. I still have to get there. I'm a soldier; it's my duty. Not to hide, but to be among those who fight. I'm not a coward. Not a coward! Sorry… Suppressing the surging emotions, I still went forward. Somehow hobbling to the exit of the archway, I looked around. The evening city looks eerie. The smoke isn't visible, but the glows of fires illuminating the dark city, the flashes and the crashing of skirmishes haven't gone anywhere. But now, when the city isn't burning with signs and numerous lights, these glows turn the city into a very surreal image. Long, twitching shadows. And it's dark enough that I could pass through.
Griping the weapon, I hobbled along the edge of the street, trying to be as invisible as possible. Cars and archways allow me to be relatively unnoticeable, hiding in the shadows. Rare Covenant patrols drive by on single-seat vehicles, and I have to hide. And then there are the bodies. Civilians, soldiers, Covenant. Destroyed equipment. I passed a position where machine guns and M12 Warthogs had stood. The vehicles are burning, adding their share to the fires; around the weapons are bodies smelling of scorched flesh, including some in the familiar cadet uniforms.
Exhaling slightly, I examined them. Not people I knew, but they look older. Probably second or third year. Inga isn't there, no acquaintances either. A separate group of bodies smells of burnt flesh, and the ground is melted—a grenade. Not my case. I could have picked up a lot of weapons, but pulling a pin with one hand would be hard. You can do those things with your teeth in movies; in reality, your teeth would shatter first. No, thank you. So I continued with my pistol. I encountered another group of lizards roasting someone on a fire and eating. I remembered what they're called. Jackals, scavengers. Fortunately for me, they were busy, and I managed to sneak behind abandoned and destroyed equipment. There were several such places.
I had to make my way through a building destroyed by plasma. Well, not a building—molten slag; only a couple of generally recognizable walls remained of the floors, the rest had fused into something resembling glass. No bodies, no furniture, nothing else. These ruins weren't interesting even to the Covenant, so I managed to both rest and have a snack from a found ration. And then move on. Without constant fighting, the adrenaline had passed, exposing fatigue and a lack of endurance. My legs are aching like hell. But I must keep going.
There were very round, sleeping things, Unggoy. These had occupied an empty building and were snoring in a heap. I would have… But I realize I won't survive if I go head-on. I had to move on. I don't know how long I walked. Just at one point, I was yanked by the arm and found myself at the business end of an assault rifle. Humans. I found them. And the fact that they're aiming at me is such a minor thing! I burst into laughter and practically fell where I stood, smiling like an idiot.
"Do I look like a freak?" the question was almost indifferent.
The soldier lowered his weapon. Two more came out from behind the wall.
"Who are you?" the man asked quietly, examining my arm.
The pistol was carefully taken away.
"Cadet Suslikov, Atlas Academy, flight course. Keep the pistol; it's a trophy."
The soldiers smirked, and we went inside. A building around which barricades were made of wrecked equipment and civilian transport; there are holes in the walls in several places. Machine guns poke out of the windows. I was taken to the third floor, to the medical station. A middle-aged man with white stripes on his armor was found there. The medic said quietly:
"They really got you; don't move, it'll hurt. Gag him."
I howled when the body armor was literally torn from my flesh, and then they sprayed something. And then they cut. And only then did they bandage it. And only then did they share a ration and ask questions. I told them about how we covered the tunnel and the killed civilians. And how I got the pistol, which drew approval. About how I wanted to find Inga and the others. That was approved too.
"Jackals are carnivorous and a bit bloodthirsty. Their eyesight is good; I think he saw he hadn't finished you off. But he decided to play with his food," I shuddered, but the man just patted my shoulder, "If they were less bloodthirsty, they'd be worse. Relax. You're alive."
Alive. And now I'm sitting in a building playing the role of a forward base. Surrounded by barricades and burned equipment from both sides. And corpses. I somehow got lucky to get through.
past the waves of attack and flying aircraft. Past the transports dropping troops onto the building. And, of course, past the patrols. Right now, as I'm being bandaged, a battle is raging just a couple of walls away, and a machine gun is thundering. The soundproofing isn't bad, but you can hear everything. The medics have prepared cots for the wounded. It's naive to expect this to be the end for me. Reinforcements are tight, and I'm an extra hand. But right now, there is time.
The main thing is not to think; otherwise, everything is fine. Field medicine is good. They won't give me a prosthesis, but wounds close up in a flash. Another half hour and I'll be combat-ready, as much as that's even possible. I decided to ask:
"How is it out there, upstairs?"
The medic replied:
"It's not so bad. We would have been burned if the covies had broken the defense. As it is, the dropships are coming in, small fry mostly, but the capital ships are holding. They're standing to the death, but they're holding. We lost the academy; the bastards were persistent. But the lift is holding, the orbital platforms too," he then inspected me, "Those of yours who managed to get out are now assisting the soldiers. Your girlfriend, if she made it out, too. What do you say?"
I nodded. That's hope. But there's another question.
"And the civilians? Did many escape?"
The soldier winced.
"That's worse. Many died, many are hiding. It's impossible to say how many survivors there are. I don't think we'll know until we're finished here. But there's a chance for victory, kid. We're still alive. And that means there's a great steak between the Covenant and the civilians."
I tried to laugh, but it came out as a wheeze. And my ribs hurt.
"I hope so. It would be a shame."
The medic tried to laugh.
"Everything will be fine, kid. You survived, you're here. We'll fight them off. Vice Admiral Whitcomb will win. Or he'll get us all out. You, and the girlfriend. Alright, the treatment is working, rest a bit. There's a mess hall and cots a floor below. That's it, move along."
I stood up. My limbs were still incomplete, but in field conditions, the wounds had been treated. Now was not the time or place to lie around. The infirmary was full of those just lying against the walls, either exhausted or with wounds too serious. The rest were at their positions. My head was ringing a bit, and there was an unusual lightness in my body. But I have a pistol, and the enemy attacks can be heard all too often.
After everything that happened in the city... After the bodies left by burning cars and those simply gunned down, after that Jackal that ate my arm, after everyone who died today and is still dying, while I have strength, I must continue. Passing by crates of weapons, a sergeant stopped me.
"So, to the front line, cadet?"
I nodded.
"After everything I've seen... Yes, I'll help however I can. I have a pistol," I tapped the plasma hanging on my hip, "it doesn't need reloading."
The sergeant grunted.
"Keep in mind, short range, cadet. And if it starts misfiring, the battery is almost empty. Take some new armor, better than what you had. You'll need it there, don't even doubt it."
Useful information. The sergeant helped me get dressed. It was heavy, not quite comfortable, but it would be between me and the covies' bullets, which was great.
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind."
Refusing rest would be stupid, as would refusing food. I'm starting to get used to this. I even managed to nap a little. The soldiers were calm, showed me what was where, and helped carry the food. It felt good to feel like part of a squad, part of a whole. Everyone understands, gives practical advice. So it's time for me to do something useful. Getting to the front line wasn't difficult. The shooters had taken positions in the windows, controlling not only the front entrance but the roof and the rear as well. An attack could come from anywhere.
I reported to another sergeant and looked out the window. The street was simply littered with knocked-out or burnt-out equipment. Apparently, there were originally tanks, APCs, M12 Warthogs, and a barricade of cars here. Now a tank was missing its turret and burning; the cars were also mostly just obstacles. The machine guns had been removed and dragged into the building. There were several melted craters that had simply evaporated chunks of buildings and an M12 Warthog that looked like it had been crushed by a giant hammer. And the bodies, yes. On the other side, the Covenant had taken hits too. A bit further was a pile of their equipment. In the half-light, the bodies weren't particularly visible, but we were alive, and they weren't.
Silhouettes of something large were visible. Tanks? I'd like a closer look, but it's dangerous. The fires create an illusion of dancing shadows, as if someone is in the darkness. And the thermal imagers are getting jammed.
"Don't lean out too much. There are plenty of damn snipers out there. And they get the first shot," remarked one of the soldiers, also showing signs of wounds and a scorched vest. But he had both arms and a helmet.
I ducked back, trying to look for a target carefully. The man clearly noticed that I kept trying to lean on my second, missing arm and raised an eyebrow in question.
"A Jackal shot my arm off."
The man sat down next to me, looking at the hanging and twitching limb. Every time, I want to use two hands before I realize I can't. Because of that, it doesn't hang still. The man carefully looked out and said:
"Their snipers are there, yeah. They sat down there when they realized they wouldn't get through so easily. You're lucky you didn't take one in the back, cadet. On the other hand, their shot is visible, so they aren't invincible either. Whoever sticks their head out dies. You often only have one shot, and then the enemy fires. And here, whoever is more accurate is the one who survives."
I tried to peer into the darkness, but there was nothing. These glows really get in the way. And they're exhausting. About an hour later, I started nodding off. It's one thing to be in combat, moving somewhere. But now all of this is starting to pile up. The roar of battle is audible, and quite close. Most of it is around the orbital elevator. People are holding it, keeping the ships away. Sometimes they get through, then a flash follows, and silence falls over another district of the city, leaving only the glow of fires.
Once, several civilians tried to break through to us, but a Ghost swerved out of the smoke and gunned them down, and then caught fire under machine-gun fire. The pilot tried to bail, but a bullet got him too. Not mine; the Plasma Pistol really isn't very long-range. Sucks. The night is long and you can't see a damn thing. I slept a bit, chewed on a ration, standing shifts on par with everyone else.
At dawn, blue spheres came lobbing into the building.
"Incoming!!!"
Then we were jolted, and a wave of heat rolled across the floor. Another explosion and another wave. A soldier with a rocket launcher leaned out only to fall back with a hole in his chest. Machine guns opened up, blue bolts flew back in response, burning holes in the ceiling. I huddled down, pressing against the wall, hoping the next blue flash wouldn't take out the wall and evaporate me.
A sergeant fell nearby, with a hole in his stomach. Looking into his empty eyes, I finally made up my mind, stuck my hand out, and fired several un-aimed shots.
In response, several flashes flew into the window, also missing. Then it became very bright and painful. I screamed, trying to tear off my burning clothes. There was nothing in the world but hellish stinging and pain.
***
Slightly opening my eyes, I realized I only had one eye left. Some spots were moving there and sounds were audible. A little longer, I don't know how long. But the sounds formed into voices.
"...intelligence indicator. Physica... al. We..."
There is no pain, only hellish dryness. My head is ringing, my thoughts are confused.
"Wa...ter," I croaked.
I was heard; it became a bit easier. Some unknown time later, I heard a voice. This time, almost clearly.
"We need his consent," they are doing something in front of my face, "see fingers?"
I nodded as best I could.
"Everything is blurry. I see shadows."
"Good," the voice replied. "You are heavily wounded, but alive. You have been approved for treatment, but we need your consent."
Treatment? I don't have an arm. And that light and pain. I don't know what it is. But I need treatment.
"Did we win?"
The voice unexpectedly replied.
"Yes, the Covenant retreated. The post where you were also held out. Any more questions?"
I have to ask about something. Or someone. I don't remember. But it's important.
"Someone, I don't remember the name."
The voice paused, then replied.
"Your parents must be somewhere. There's chaos in the city; people hid wherever they could. They'll be found."
Another voice added.
"The file mentions a certain Inga."
I remembered! Her name was Inga. That hair. And eyes. I don't remember. But I'm sure they are beautiful.
"Inga, what about her?"
The second voice answered.
"Unknown. Missing in action. Time, Doctor."
The first voice asked again:
"So, shall we treat you?"
Well, what else is left? Only to be treated. Treatment is good, yes. Treatment doesn't hurt.
"Yes..."
The voice said.
"Prepare the subject for transport."
The world blurred; it became dark. The woman turned to a small AI hologram, flexing her new prosthesis made of synth-muscles.
"A good, promising cadet. How many of those did we recruit?"
"Seventy-five, Doctor. I have ordered samples to be collected for cloning."
The woman in the lab coat nodded.
"Correct. We need to determine the dosage of the 'V-ELNO' drug. Find out how much his nervous system can withstand. Ensure the subjects are in stasis and the clones are growing. Upon returning to Reach, results will be expected from us."
"Yes, Doctor."
The AI disconnected. The woman smirked, clenching her fist.
"It wasn't for nothing that we flew here. So many promising young people. The Colonel was right; these are excellent places for material collection."
And she left.
***
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