(3rd Pov)
As the day wore on, night fell upon Circinius IV, blotting the landscape that seemed to only ignite with more fires.
In the sky, brightly colored tracers lit up as they headed out, trying to strike distant air vehicles: Banshees, Spirits, and Phantoms. The rounds flew, hitting their targets at times but missing more often than not. Their firings filled the air with the sound of drums beaten to the grim chord of survival.
While overhead battles still raged, on the streets of the city below, all was silent. The city had been quartered and divided by UNSC forces and the Covenant invaders. Though it seemed they had reached a momentary ceasefire for the night, as fires one by one in various parts of the city were set alight. Each of these signified a Covenant patrol; they moved as a marauding war band of medieval times and acted as one. The sheer quantity of fires led to smoke blocking out the planet's three moons, further increasing the darkness.
Among the city streets were sights of battles that had been fought, won, lost, or stalemated. Cars were trashed, abandoned where their occupants left them. Warthogs sat destroyed, skeletons still sitting in the driver and passenger seats, having had their flesh burnt away by fires. There were even some Scorpions found, their hatches ripped open and turrets blown apart and melted by plasma.
In many spots, there were scenes of last-ditch holdouts, and tens of civilian bodies were typically found along with the defending UNSC force.
In one of the various skyscrapers, the members of Spartan team Alpha were gathering.
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"We're back," Sheila announced unceremoniously, using the speaker in her helmet. Jorge followed behind her, setting his chain gun down as he made his way through the doorway, before picking it back up, clear of the door as it shut.
Daisy, who had been guarding the door, nodded her head. "Welcome back," she said, her face stern as her helmet sat on a desk behind her.
The room the team was set up in appeared to be an office. Cubicles filled with computers and desks were set in uniform rows. The ceiling was made out of cheap, almost paper tiles, whilst the walls were of sheet rock with an entire wall of windows overlooking the city. The large room almost looked as if it could be put back into service, if not for the obvious signs of battle.
There was a large gap of missing tiles in the middle of the room, in its place the body of a Jackal hung, its foot caught in electrical wires connected to a light that flickered in the air beside it. A large purple jammer had been set up in the back corner, but had been decommissioned with the use of satchel charges, ones that blew a hole in the surrounding walls and created a sizeable hole in the floor that led to the floor below.
Blue bioluminescent blood was found in splatters around the Grunts that had lost it, and various Jackal corpses were similarly scattered. The Covenant had been using the building as a sniper nest and a jammer combo. Several windows had been shattered for the Jackal snipers, but if it wasn't obvious, this nest had been eliminated.
To the right of Jorge and Sheila, cubicles had been moved out of the way as Cal lay prone with her sniper rifle. Beside her, David was also prone, and like Daisy had taken his helmet off, setting it on a table behind him as he looked through a pair of binoculars. A MA5B strapped to his back mag mount.
Without looking up from his binos, he asked, "What's the situation down on the streets?"
Sheila took her helmet off and took the opportunity to sit on a nearby desk top, "You know the usual. Lots of fire, lots of bodies, and very little of anything friendly," she said, leaning back with her grenade launcher beside her.
Jorge spoke up, giving a more detailed response, "The Covenant has pulled back to camps, those fires are where they set up," he said, pointing to the scattered lights that looked like fireflies from their vantage point. "There was no infantry, only a few ghost pairs patrolling for survivors," he finished.
"Hmm," David hummed, still looking through the spy glasses. He opened his mouth to ask another question before pausing and spitting something else out, "Cal, Monsoon Hotel, down the street, fifth story, and third window from the right. One of those Jackals with the giant purple sniper rifle," he called out, spotting the glint of the Jackal's weapon in the low light.
Cal made a nano adjustment, one that would not be noticed by anyone nearby unless they knew what she was doing. Her Mjolnir automatically further zooming using the uplink of the M99's optic to give her a perfect view of the window. There was only the small sliver of the rifle's barrel poking out of the window, the one wielding the weapon covered by the wall from her perspective.
That didn't matter.
She took her time as she began to calculate the optimal pitch and shot placement to eliminate the target in one go. Beneath her helmet, she held her breath for a mere moment as she pulled the trigger.
A high-pitched whine and blue glow flashed from the end of her gun, "Target K.I.A., nice shot. You put that one through its head through the wall," David informed as he scanned the buildings for anything that would pop its head out from their hiding spot. The brass casing of the round rolled on the ground behind them.
David circled back to the earlier conversation, "Sheila, what's the status of the spaceport?"
Sheila snorted, "Shit show with a capital S-H-I-T, seriously, whoever gave that Colonel his promotions has to be an Innie working to sabotage the UNSC,"
"Be serious," David said as his head swiveled.
Sheila sighed, "You're no fun," she said before clearing her throat, "From the time that I was posted as a guard to the moment you called me to meet up with Jorge, an additional 30,000 civilians were evacuated. The northern and southern access points were lost and subsequently had charges blown to deny entry from the Covenant. Leaving only the Eastern and Western gates to actually receive refugees, but…" Sheila trailed off
Sensing her reluctance to continue, David spoke up, "If you have something to say, then say it. Closed mouths don't get fed," David ordered before repeating a phrase that Mendez had recited during training.
"...but we didn't see a single one in the last two hours. Based on what I heard there were no rumors about any more groups making their way to the space port," Sheila sighed again, her usual humor filled demeanor absent from the conversation, "We've also lost the other continents, there is no more interstellar transports on any continent besides this one, and any air transports trying to cross the oceans are getting picked apart by Covenant air forces,"
"And who told you this?" Daisy cut in suspicion evident on her face.
"The Colonel," Sheila answered, her stern expression directed at Daisy.
Daisy barely suppressed a chuckle, "And you believed him?"
"I didn't see a good enough reason not to. He may be a dumb ass, but so far his intel has been spot on. Why? Don't you?"
"I don't believe he can fight his way out of a paper bag," Daisy said with a clear look of disgust, "Much less do I think he could actually gather and manage intel."
David raised a hand, and they stopped arguing. Over the years, that had been one of the signs he used to say 'zip it'. Regardless of the Colonel's tactical abilities, our mission remains the same. But Sheila, you brought that up for a reason, get to the point,"
Sheila's face flickered to a hint of embarrassment knowing she'd been caught, but before she could respond, David scored another direct hit, "Let me guess, you think we should end it here," he said, his eyes still focused on the surroundings of their office building.
"Well…" Though she didn't finish her sentence, it was clear that was exactly what she was thinking.
It was David's turn to let out a sigh, "We're clear, Cal," he said, patting Cal's arm with his gauntlet before placing the binoculars into some crevice in his armor. He then brought himself into a crouch before turning around. Cal began to stand up as well.
"Anyone else hold the same opinion?" David asked, his face serious with no obvious emotion clear on it.
There was a quick moment of silence as the four glanced at each other.
Cal was the first to speak, agreeing with Sheila, "We've done as much as we can. It would be inefficient to stay to rescue only a couple more civilians whilst risking injury or death of any of us." Her words were logical, a clear cost-benefit analysis; there was no malice or emotion behind it, just a short, simple evaluation. A response that David expected to hear from her.
Jorge, for the first time since joining the team, spoke out, "I completely disagree sir-David," he caught himself, "We must save as many as we can, that's the reason we became Spartans remember? Whether it's one life or a thousand, until each one is saved or until it becomes no longer possible, we have to stay. It's our duty and responsibility," Jorge finished, and David looked at him in a new light.
'He has a bleeding heart… like Benjamin,' he thought to himself, 'Catherine knew what she was doing assigning him to my team,' Jorge would be able to balance out the team… with his personality and with Benjamin's death, it almost seemed like Alpha had been given a "heart transplant".
David looked to the only member who hadn't spoken up, "What about you, Daisy? You have an opinion you'd like expressed?"
Daisy shrugged her shoulders, "Not particularly. I'll do whatever you want to,"
David nodded as he stood up to his feet before responding. He reached up scratching the back of his head while seemingly thinking quietly.
Sheila took the time to defend herself, "You weren't at the spaceport, Dave. There were more dead and maimed than those capable of fighting. Even the Colonel looked worse for wear by the time I left. There's no one left to save,"
"And the Marines? What about them?" David asked, seriously looking around at each member of his team, "Nobody thought to mention that if we pull out now. I'd doubt that there'd be any that get off this planet,"
David continued his face a slab with the only hint of emotion being his slightly furrowed brow, "Do we just get to call it a day and let them have a last stand?" he asked again getting no response.
The members of his team remained with passive expressions showing no indication that he'd said anything, but David knew enough that each of them was considering his words deep down. Yet, David didn't want to hear their response. This was not up for debate; he wanted to hear their opinions, but at the end of the day, he's the boss, he's the Captain.
David moved to the table, reaching and putting his helmet back on. His voice switched to the helmet's speaker, "We're staying. I don't leave missions half finished, and I don't leave people half saved,"
He turned back to the busted window one last time, "Now let's go wipe out some of those camps. I doubt any of them will be expecting a night raid."