Title: Swamps

Summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Find the doctor and get out. But in the swamps of New Llanelli, Sergeant Izabella Trokán and her team will soon discover: nothing is ever that simple.

Author's Note: Hello, another one-shot for the books. Unlike my other one-shot, Halo: Atlantic Resolve, this one is actually set during the Human-Covenant War (so, no time travel.) This one is very long, as I was going for more of a mystery/suspenseful type of story, but I personally think it was worth it and I hope you guys will as well.

Note: this story is not canon-compliant. More on that in the author's notes below.

As always, many thanks to my editor, Darkfire7881, who has his own Halo story up on fanfiction at the moment, When the Grass Grows Again. Be sure to check it out.

Great Dismal Swamp
Carmarthenshire Region, New Llanelli
18 November 2546

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of trickling water.

"Unggoy? Wort azuda?"

BRATATATATATA!

The sound of an M247 general purpose machine gun being fired on full auto split the air, before disappearing just as quickly as it appeared.

For the next few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of trickling water. Then a series of whispers.

"Did you get him?"

"Shh."

…

…

"You got him, right?"

"Quiet."

"I'm just asking 'cause – "

"Dude, shut the fuck up."

"– there can't be too many more of them out there, right? I mean – "

"ROARRRRR!"

The loud, girlish scream was accompanied by the sound of the dull thumping of heavy machine gun fire as the Elite that had unexpectedly burst out from beneath the surface of the water was sent crashing back down, this time with a few extra holes in it's torso. Without waiting to see if the Elite had been alone or not, Izzy immediately grabbed her partner and dragged him into a nearby patch of long grass.

Knowing the grass wasn't enough to protect them from plasma fire, Izzy ripped out the empty nutsack from the side of her machine gun and whipped out a fresh belt. Not willing to expose the insides of her primary weapon to the dirty swamp water any more than it had already, Izzy didn't even bother opening the top cover and instead, jammed the end of the belt into the feed port and racked the charging handle a couple of times until the feed pawl grabbed a hold of the first round. Without another word, she grabbed a hold of her partner once more and dragged him to another patch of grass –

And waited.

Izzy found herself holding her breath as she carefully eyed the waters that surrounded her. With the heavy fog bank rolling in, even with her VISR, visibility was down to less than three meters. That, coupled with the torso-high waters and the thick patches of swamp grass that surrounded them, made for one terrifying battleground.

Still. She had been ambushed three times in the last hour by the Covenant, and she wasn't interested in getting attacked again.

Beside her, Crawfish was awkwardly shuffling around, sending ripples across the surface of the water, and Izzy resisted the urge to snap at him. Instead, she wrapped a protective arm around him, and gently urged him to crouch down, not so low that he would accidently drown himself, but enough that if any more Covenant soldiers were to burst out from the fog, Izzy would be the first target they would see.

After a few more agonizing minutes, Izzy finally conclude she wasn't about to be jumped. Setting her weapon on safe, she slowly released the breath she had been holding.

"Hey, Izzy? Is your motion sensor working? Cause I'm reading movement all over the freaking place."

"Turn it off."

"What?"

"Turn it off. We're in a swamp, dude. There's so many creatures living here, a lot of which are big enough to register on our sensors, that it's just not worth keeping on."

"But how will I know if friendlies are coming up on us? What if I accidently shoot them?"

Izzy glanced over her shoulder. "Crawfish, buddy, you don't even have a weapon."

Crawfish had depolarized his visor some time ago, so Izzy was able to see the look of surprise and confusion that appeared on his face as he automatically began patting the waters around him. "Wha-? Where my SAW at? I need my SAW."

Behind her own visor, Izzy pursed her lips. This was the third time they were going over this question. That was not a good sign.

"It's at the bottom of the swamp, remember?" she told him. "You dropped it when that Elite Ultra stabbed you in the shoulder."

"Wha-?" Crawfish looked stunned at that revelation. "I got stabbed?" he glanced at his left shoulder, where one of his pauldrons had been removed and replaced with a olive drab bandage. "Huh. Hey, Izzy! I got stabbed!"

Izzy did her best to stamp down on her growing alarm. She didn't know whether it was the injury, the meds, or even the swamp gas, but Crawfish had been growing increasingly loopy in the last few minutes. She needed to get him to a medic. Now.

"Yeah, I know Crawfish," she said instead. "I was there."

Crawfish wasn't listening though. "Hey, Izzy: I got stabbed. With a sword. How weird is that?"

"So weird," Izzy told him even as she began urging him along in what she hoped was the direction of friendlies.

Crawfish compliantly traveled along, talking non-stop about his injury. "Yeah, I know, right? You think it'll scar? I hope it will scar. Chicks dig scars, don't they? You think if I were to show them this one, they'll be super impressed?"

Izzy let him babble on without response. Crawfish was at least speaking over their TEAMCOM channel, as opposed to his helmet's external speakers, which was good as that meant Izzy didn't have to worry about his voice traveling across the swamp. It also allowed her to keep an eye out for hostiles as she desperately looked around for landmarks to navigate by. Where the hell was everybody? The ambush had been bad, sure, but not that bad to have scattered everyone to the four winds. Granted, they had a contingency in place for this exact scenario, but still: aside from Crawfish, she had yet to run into anyone else.

Where the hell was everyone? And how the fuck did shit go so bad so quickly?

XXX

Twelve Hours Ago…

"Sergeant Trokán!"

Izzy's head snapped up, only to see Major Briggs, squadron A-2, giving her a nasty glare, and she did her best to adapt a more neutral expression.

"Sir?" she asked as innocently as she could. Briggs did not appear to buy it.

"There something funny, Technical Sergeant, about this briefing you'd like to share with the rest of the team?"

Behind her, Izzy could hear Crawfish and Mahmoud doing their best to suppress a giggle, and she resisted the urge to flick them off. "No, sir."

She could barely suppress a satisfied grin when Briggs looked around her and yelled, "And what about you, Staff Sergeant McCoy? You got something you wanna say?"

She heard Crawfish jump.

"Nah, I'm good, sir," he declared.

Briggs glared at them both for a moment, as if trying to figure out if they were lying or not, before giving a single nod. "Then sit down and shut up."

"Sir."

Briggs waited for them to do just that, before turning back to his holographic display. The words "Operation Hotel Romeo One Niner Seven Three" floated at the very top, nearly causing Izzy to roll her eyes. It was at times like these she wished she had joined the Navy instead of the Air Force; at least the Navy was amenable to giving their operations somewhat interesting code names instead of merely using a string of letters and numbers.

"As I was saying," Brigg said a bit gruffly, "QRF is supposed to be provided by elements of the Army's Echo Company, 3/22nd Rangers. However, given the fluidity of the situation on the ground, along with the speed of the Covenant advance, those Rangers might not be available by the time we arrive in system. If that turns out to be the case, QRF will probably be provided by elements of 37th Marine Regiment instead, however that's not something we're going to find out until we get there. Either way, just be aware you may need to pack several radios in order to pick up both Army and Marine frequencies."

"Aside from that, this is a pretty standard rescue op. All of you should know how these work as all of you have been with the community for a few years now and some of you," he shot both Izzy and Crawfish a nasty glare, "are actually professionals. Just get the HRP, get her out, and come home, hua?"

There was a long moment of awkward silence, before, almost as one, the entire room glanced in Gurkha's direction. Being the youngest and newest member of the team, the team had collectively decided long ago he would be the one responsible for replying to stupid shit like that.

Despite sitting on the other side of the room, Izzy could clearly see Gurkha resisting the urge to facepalm before replying with the least enthusiastic voice ever, "Hua, Major."

Fortunately Briggs didn't seem to notice because he gave a single nod of satisfaction, before gathering up his files. "We're T minus ten hours before we're slated to drop out of slipspace. This section of the ship is off-limits to unauthorized personnel, so I'll be leaving this hologram up. Feel free to study it whenever you like. Dismissed."

Then, throwing a nod in the direction of the only other officer in the room, Briggs left the ready room.

As soon as he was out of earshot, everyone burst into laughter.

"'Hua?' Really?" Mahmoud exclaimed. "What the fuck."

"Seriously," Izzy said with a sad shake of her head. "Collectively, of everyone in this room, we've probably got close to fifty years of combat experience. Yet our commanders still want to treat us like we're back in basic? Get the fuck out."

"This is why I can't wait until I ETS out of here," Crawfish said with a shake of his head. "You know what happens when you get out of the military? You get your brain back."

Izzy shot him an odd look. "Didn't you just re-enlist like, two months ago?"

"Momentary bout of insanity, I tell you," Crawfish easily replied. "I've been regretting it since then."

Mahmoud snorted. "Yeah. Sure dude. Keep telling yourself that. Cause you ain't fooling anybody else!"

"McCoy here is the type of guy who, while on leave, wakes up every morning at zero dark thirty to go do PT," Izzy agreed.

"What can I say? My body's a temple."

Izzy rolled her eyes, exasperated. "God."

The sound of someone clearing their throat caught their attention, and the three of them looked over to see their team commander, Captain Dutch, standing there, politely waiting.

"Oh, hey Cap. What's going on?" Mahmoud greeted.

"Not much. Just thought I'd check in on you guys, see how it's going," Dutch replied as he grabbed a nearby chair. "Hey, so I just wanted to ask: what was so funny during the briefing?"

Izzy immediately let out an annoyed sigh as both Crawfish and Mahmoud started grinning again. "It was just a stupid picture that these jackasses decided to send me. Why they had to do it in the middle of the briefing, I have no freaking idea, but it was really nothing, sir."

Dutch shrugged, seemingly not too concerned, which Izzy figured would have been the case; most military officers who led special operations units out in the field had a tendency to be far more relaxed than their regular military counterparts, and Dutch had proven to be no exception.

"I figured that was the case, but I also figured I'd check in with you guys, make sure you didn't missing anything in the briefing. You guys know what we're doing, right?" Dutch asked, making sure to share eye contact with each of his men in turn.

Izzy, Crawfish, and Mahmoud all glanced at each other before Izzy shrugged. "We're getting sent in to secure some scientist, a biochemist or some shit like that, before the Covenant can grab her."

"Doctor Juliette Elaine Kracker," Crawfish supplied, before pausing. "Hey, is it just me or does anyone else find it kind of ironic some white-bread ass lady is named 'Kracker' of all things?"

"Sorry we can't all have generic sounding names like 'Patrick McCoy,' my dude," Izzy heard Mahmoud reply, but she ignored them.

"HRP's got a lab located in the middle of the Great Dismal Swamp in the Carmarthenshire Region of New Llanelli," she continued. "Covies haven't made it there yet, but they're getting close, so we're going to have to shake a leg if we want to get to the HRP before they do. Especially since the lab isn't all that well protected."

"Yeah, Briggs mentioned all this Kracker lady has got for protection is a bunch of SRT guys from the local security forces squadron," Mahmoud supplied. "Them Rock Apes might be very good at protecting VIPs from Innies and protestors and shit like that, but they don't have the firepower or the training to stand up against an entire Covenant armored battalion. Guess they were hoping the remoteness of the Dismal Swamp would protect them?"

Dutch shrugged. "Guess so."

"Anyways," Izzy continued. "Our primary concern is Doctor Kracker. All other lab personnel are secondary; if we can get them out without problem, great, but if not…"

She trailed off. This was the part of the job she always hated the most. It was difficult for her to look people in the eye and tell them that their lives were somehow less than that of the VIP's. That they needed to die, in order for the package to survive. Unfortunately, if that was what was needed for the mission to succeed, then that was what had to be done.

"Yeah, that's why we gotta make sure we grab the right fucking person," Crawfish interrupted before Izzy could allow herself to fall into a spiral of guilt. "Which might be a little bit difficult as HRP is your typical WASP: English heritage, forty-seven years old, about one hundred and sixty two centimeters tall, fifty four kilograms in weight, brunette hair… all pretty generic, really."

"Fortunately for us, seems Kracker here had a bit of a wild streak when she was younger," Mahmoud noted, picking up the thread of the conversation. "Got herself all tatted up. Naturally, they're the most cliché and generic tattoos you can get: butterfly tramp stamp, star behind the left ear, heart on the left ring finger, rose on top of the right foot, etc. – honestly surprised she didn't get a kanji or hanzi tattoo on her arms…"

Crawfish snorted. "Quick! No one look at Mahmoud's forearms!"

Izzy couldn't help but laugh as Mahmoud reflexively tried to cover up the foreign scrip tattoos he had on his arms.

"Dude, that's Arabic. It's not the same thing," he feebly tried to protest.

"Sure…"

Izzy shook her head. "Anyways, point is, we can use them as identifiers, make sure we got the right person. Oh, that, and her eyes."

Mahmoud's head snapped in her direction. "Wait, what's this about her eyes?"

Izzy raised an eyebrow. "Kracker's got heterochromia; what was it, her left eye is green and her right eye is brown? Or was it the other way around?" Izzy paused before shrugging. "Either way, different, which makes it an identifier."

"Huh." Mahmoud looked thoughtful. "Must have missed that part of the briefing."

Crawfish reached over and flicked him in the eye. "Yeah, that's cause you don't fucking pay attention, dude. Always missing the little details. Gonna get you killed one day."

"Well, that's why I got you watching my back, right?"

"Aww, you trust me that much? How sweet."

Izzy grinned as the two of them began making kissy faces at each other before glancing at Dutch, who was looking on with amusement. "Anyways, Captain, you want us to go over the entire plan or, you think we got it by now?"

Dutch looked startled for a moment, before his face split into a grin. "Alright, you guys got me: even when horsing around, you're still paying attention.

Izzy returned the grin with one of her own as she lifted her hands in a shrug.

"What can I say? Professionals," she cockily declared.

"Don't need to tell me twice, shit. Okay, lesson learned: don't doubt my men. Especially the ones that have got three times as much trigger time as I do," Dutch cheerfully commented as he climbed to his feet. "Anyways, I'll leave you guys to it. Just remember: ten hours until drop. Have fun."

With that, he gave Izzy a friendly pat on her shoulder before walking away to go talk to the other members of the team. As soon as he was gone, Izzy glanced at her watch. Ten hours. What to do for the next hours?

XXX

Present

The sound of low rumbling in the distanced caused Izzy to look up and sigh. Great. A thunderstorm was rolling in. Just what they needed, something to reduce visibility even further. She grunted, before glancing forward once more.

They were approaching the rally point. This little speck of land was a little less than three squared meters wide, but it was the largest chuck of solid land sticking out from above the water in a hundred meter radius and because of that, it had been designated as the fallback position in the event Izzy and her team somehow managed to get separated. If there was any chance the rest of her team was still alive, then this was the place they would have gone.

That being said, even if everyone else in her team was alive, that didn't necessarily mean they had made it to the rally point just yet. Because of that, Izzy knew she had to be very cautious on approach, just in case the Covies had made it here first. And she couldn't do that while trying to take care of Crawfish.

She stopped by a small dead tree sticking out of the water that was located about five meters away from the rally point, and glanced at Crawfish. Crawfish had got alarmingly quiet in the last few minutes, and Izzy was beginning to worry she had missed something when she had initially patched him up; with biofoam holding his wound shut, there was no reason that she could think of for Crawfish's rapidly deteriorating condition. Unfortunately, Izzy was no medic; she would have to wait for their attached pararescue medic - if Rockstar had even survived, that is – before the mystery could be solved.

In the meantime, she needed to secure the area.

"Hey, Crawfish, can you hear me?" she whispered, pressing the temple of her helmet against his, as if that would help him hear her better.

Crawfish didn't react, but Izzy could see his eyes flicker in her direction.

"I gotta go secure Rally Point. I gotta leave you here, but I'll be right back, you hear me?" she told him. "Just stay here and keep your head down, okay? It won't take long, and I'll be back as soon as I can, I swear."

Crawfish didn't respond, but Izzy liked to think he heard her nonetheless. Realizing how defenseless he looked, she took a moment to debate the wisdom of giving a person as out of it as Crawfish was a loaded weapon, before deciding it would be best if Crawfish had at least some way of defending himself in the event the worse were to occur.

Mind made up, Izzy reached down into the water and yanked Crawfish's sidearm from his hip. Ejecting the magazine and clearing the chambering, Izzy gave it a good shake to clear any mud that may have ended up down the barrel, before reloading it.

"You're locked and loaded, buddy," she whispered, shoving the weapon into Crawfish's good hand and wrapping his fingers around the grip. "You're in condition zero and you got twelve rounds along with one in the pipe. You're going to be okay just… sit tight."

She took a step back. After a moment's thought, she reached into her assault pack and pulled out a bundle of paracord. Cutting off an extended length with her multi-tool, she looped it around the truck of the tree before tying the ends to the back of Crawfish's armor in such a way that if Crawfish were to lose consciousness, he wouldn't slip beneath the surface of the water. While their helmets were sealed and had their own supply of oxygen, the reserves would only last fifteen minutes, and despite Izzy's assurances, she had no idea how long it would take for her to get back.

She kept her misgivings to herself though as she stepped back once more.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered again, hoping she sounded confident enough. "I'll be right back."

Then, without another word, she grabbed her gimpy and started moving towards the rally point. She had only taken a few steps, but when she looked over her shoulder, Crawfish had already been swallowed up by the fog, and she felt a tremor of fear pass over her, but she resisted the urge to run back. She had to trust things would be fine, otherwise, she and Crawfish were never getting out of here.

Forcing herself to put Crawfish out of her mind, she focused on the small island in front of her. Moving as slowly but deliberately as she could, as to minimize the amount of ripples and splashes she generated, she kept her machine gun at the ready as she scanned the island. Her motion sensor began registering all sorts of movement on top of the island, but they were all moving away from her, not towards, so she knew they were nothing more than the local fauna, reacting to the presence of such a large predator in the vicinity. Aside from that, she could see no signs of intelligent life, friendly or otherwise.

Her first step onto the island came as a surprise to her. Rather than a gradual rise out of the water as she had been expecting, it turned out to be a bit of a step, causing her to stumble. Fortunately, she managed to catch herself before she faceplanted into the water, but unfortunately the bottom of her gimpy hit the surface of the water, causing an audible splash.

"Shit."

The curse slipped out from between her lips before she could stop it and Izzy immediately froze as she waited to see if anyone had heard that. Mentally, she began berating herself; a splash could easily be explained away as a dead tree branch falling or an animal taking a dive. An English swear word in the middle of a deserted swamp? Yeah, if there were any Covies sitting in wait on top of the island, Izzy just let them know she was coming.

Izzy stood there, still as a rock, waiting for something to happen. She kept one eye on her motion sensor, the other on the island, looking for any telltale signs of Covenant. With the top of the island covered in tall grass, there didn't seem to be much room for any Covenant soldiers to hide, but for all she knew, there could be an entire platoon of cloaked Elites just standing there, waiting for her.

The brief image of forty or so Elite warriors all crammed together on top of the small island in front of her like clowns in car abruptly flashed through her mind, and Izzy couldn't help but grin at the thought, though she quickly caught herself. In order to prevent any more distractions from occurring, Izzy decided to just blitz the island.

Shoving her way through the rest of the water, she jogged to the top of the island, into the bush to find –

- absolutely nothing. There were no Covenant soldiers, or even any sign of Covenant soldiers waiting for her. Granted, there weren't any friendlies either, but Izzy was willing to take the victory for what it was.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Izzy lowered her gimpy and deactivated her VISR so she could see the area with her own eyes. So. She was the first one to make it to the rally point. She wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or not. She had figured, between her heavy weapon and the shear amount of ammo she was carrying, along with the fact she had to deal with Crawfish, she would have been one of the slower members of her team, but perhaps the others had simply run into more resistance? No doubt they would be here in a few moments.

At least, that's what Izzy was choosing to believe because otherwise, the alternative would be just a bit too much for her to bear at the moment.

Thinking of Crawfish, Izzy turned around to go grab him when –

Splash.

Izzy immediately whirled around, bringing her machine gun up to her eye level as she dropped to one knee. That splash had come from the complete opposite direction she had come from, so it couldn't have been Crawfish. Perhaps it was one of the others?

Or worse…

Blood pumping through her veins like a freight train, Izzy took a deep breath and with practiced ease, brought her heartrate under control. With a simple gestured of her head, she reactivated her VISR and stared out into the fog. There was something coming, she knew it, she just couldn't tell what it was.

As she knelt there, squinting, a small breeze came blowing through the area, causing the fog to lift ever so slightly, allowing her to see the outlines of three figures making their way through the water in her direction. The outlines were still a little too blurry for her to make out exactly who or what those figures were, but it was clear one of them – the one in the middle – was far larger than the other two, which called to mind the hulking forms of an Elite, flanked by two Skirmishers.

Yet, at the same time, she knew her team's second in command, Senior Master Sergeant Tatenda Gurira was a pretty big guy, so perhaps it was him in the middle, flanked by both Gurkha and Rockstar?

…maybe?

Either way, Izzy didn't want to start blasting until she had gotten a positive ID, so she whispered, "Computer, external speakers."

A small red dot of light appeared in the top right corner of her HUD, indicating she was now live. Licking her lips, she mentally prepared herself before muttering, "Grapevine."

All three figures immediately stopped moving and even in the fog, Izzy could see them looking around, as if they couldn't tell where the sound had originated from. Aside from that, they didn't seem to be making any movement to yell anything back, which caused Izzy to frown. That was the challenge word her team had agreed on prior to deploying.

Maybe they just didn't hear her?

"Grapevine," she whispered again, this time allowing herself to go one octave higher, so her voice would travel just a bit further. "Grapevine."

"Gah raykoh Bornisamee?"

Izzy pulled the trigger.

BRATATATATATA!

Her machine gun immediately roared to life, singing the song of its people. Downrange, Izzy could see a blue translucent shimmer appearing around the largest of the three silhouette and she immediately knew she had made the right call – that was definitely the glow of an Elite personal energy field.

"RAHH!"

The loud bellow of an Elite filled the air as the three figures immediately scattered, but Izzy didn't let up, tracking the Elite as it attempted to find cover, only the deep water prevented the alien from moving too quickly.

FWOOZFWOOZFWOOZ!

Blue and green plasma bolts began lancing across the swamp, but surprisingly very few were directed towards Izzy's position; instead, the bolts were being fired in all directions, and with a start, Izzy abruptly realized the Covenant were just as lost and confused as Izzy had been and that thought filled her with a warm fuzzy feeling, a feeling that only increased when she spotted the Elite's shield abruptly collapsing, leaving the alien vulnerable.

"CONTACT!" Izzy yelled out loud, both over her speakers as well as her radio, just in case her team was close enough to hear her. "Three enemy foot mobiles, five meters north of Rally Point! One Hinge-Head Ultra and two Tree-Turkeys! Request immediate backup!"

There was a loud splash of water as the Elite Ultra went crashing into the water, just as Izzy's HUD flashed red in warning, indicating she was out of ammo.

"Fuck," Izzy swore and rather than waste time reloading, she tossed her machine gun to the side and pulled out her sidearm from her chest holster. "Come and get some, assholes!"

Two red dots unexpectedly appeared on her motion sensor just off to her right, and Izzy instinctively whipped her head around. To her horror, she spotted two new Skirmishers merging from a patch of tall swamp grass less than three meters away.

Frantically, Izzy transferred her sidearm to her right hand to try and engage, but even as she did that, she knew it was going to be too late…

Tink!

There was a flash of metal as something flew through the patch of grass just off to the Skirmisher's left and it took Izzy a moment to realize it was a kukri knife. The kukri hit the lead Skirmisher in the side of the head, though it hit hilt first so it failed to do anything but bounce off the Skirmisher's helmet. But before the Skirmisher could even so much as react -

"AYO GORKHALI!"

Gurkha came charging out of the brush with his MA37 assault rifle and attached bayonet in hand. Darting forward, he jammed the bayonet straight into the Skirmisher's neck and even from that distance, Izzy could hear the Skirmisher letting out a loud choking noise as it's throat was severed. Three gunshots then rang out as Gurkha fired his rifle at point blank range into the alien's head, instantly killing it.

Abandoning his rifle, Gurkha immediately whipped out an energy cutlass that he must have stolen from a dead Skirmisher because even for Air Force commandos, those weren't exactly standard issued, Gurkha leapt onto the remaining Skirmisher and it was at that point Izzy turned back to her original targets, trusting the situation was being well taken care of.

Dropping her sights over one of the original Skirmishers, Izzy started to pick up the slack on her trigger but before she could actually fire, the Skirmisher managed to make it into cover behind a nearby tree.

"Shit!" Izzy swore as she got up to try and find another angle.

"IZZY! HIT THE DIRT!"

Izzy immediately obeyed, recognizing the voice belonging to that of her teammate Poncho.

THUMP!

The Skirmisher, as well as a good chunk of the tree it was hiding behind, abruptly disappeared in a fiery explosion and Izzy glanced off to her left to see three figures emerging from the fog. Her HUD immediately identified them, but even without that, she could tell who they were just by the way they moved; her remaining teammates: Gurira, Rockstar, and Poncho. The three of them advanced in a rough line, rifles blazing away, as they unloaded on the remaining Skirmisher.

Grass was cut to pieces as the Skirmisher desperately tried to find cover, but not seeing any, decided to take the only way out: diving into the water.

"Cease fire!" Gurira ordered as he stopped right next to Izzy. "Save your ammo guys. Poncho, frag his ass."

"You got it boss," Poncho replied as he pulled out an M9 fragmentation grenade and primed it. With an almost contemptuous gesture, he tossed it into the water where the Skirmisher had dove, and waited.

A spurt of water was thrown into the air as the grenade exploded, and as the water settled, Izzy could see the Skirmisher's body go floating to the top of the surface. Or, at least, parts of it.

"Clear," Gurira called out and, glancing over her shoulder, Izzy could see Gurkha walking onto the island, sheathing his weapons, looking no worse for wear.

"Well, shit, my compliments on your timing guys," Izzy cheerfully announced as she bent over to start reloading her machine gun. "What, were you waiting for the most dramatic time to show up?"

"Never mind that, Izzy," Gurira snapped, serious as always. "You got eyes on Captain Dutch?"

Izzy gave Gurira a startled look. "Negative, Senior."

"Fuck. No one has seen Dutch since we hit the ground," Gurira explained.

Izzy glanced around the assembled group, doing a quick headcount. Besides Dutch, they were still missing someone. "Wait a minute: where's Mahmoud?"

"KIA," Gurira grimly declared. "His pod got hit by an EMP on the way down. Shut down his chute, as well as his braking rockets. Instantly killed the moment he hit the ground."

Izzy felt a sinking sensation deep in her stomach, not only because she hadn't gotten used to hearing news about her friends dying even after all this time, but also because Technical Sergeant Dardan "Mahmoud" Pernaska was the team's assigned combat controller. Which meant, he was responsible for all the comms.

"What happened to his radios?"

She heard Poncho snort. "Went down with him, obviously."

"Who was the backup comm guy for this op?" Izzy asked, racking her brain.

Poncho closed the breech to his M301 underbarrel grenade launcher with a bit more force than was needed. "Who do you think? Captain Dutch."

Izzy stared at him. "Tell me we had a backup for our backup."

"Yeah, me," Gurira insisted. "Unfortunately, I didn't think I would need anything that strong, so I only brought my handheld. And it, doesn't have the strength to punch through this shit." He gestured at the swamp and the fog that surrounded them.

"Son of a bitch," Izzy swore. "So, we can't call in QRF? Or an extract?"

"Not at the moment, no," Gurira confirmed. "But fortunately, don't forget, we've got contingencies in place for this scenario. There are three spots nearby that have been designated as relay points as they're at a much higher elevation then everything else. Should be able to get a signal out from there. Unfortunately, closest one is Relay Point Mustang, which is a quarter of a klick in that direction," he pointed out east, "while our objective is about a hundred fifty meters in that direction." He pointed out west. "These Covenant fucks we've been running into clearly belong to a long range reconnaissance group of sorts, but it won't be long before the rest of the Covenant Army comes running, so we don't have much time."

Izzy sighed, feeling like she knew what was coming next. "So we hit the objective real quick, then worry about an extract later?"

"No."

Izzy looked up at that.

"I'm not moving onto the objective area, at least until we've made contact with Command and given them an update on the situation," Gurira firmly stated. "This op has clearly gone to hell in a handbasket, plus, there's something weird about these swamps that are giving me a bad feeling. Like, where the fuck all this fog is coming from, because there wasn't any mention of it in our weather briefing."

That caught Izzy's attention. Upon seeing the unexpected fog, Izzy had just chalked it up to something she had missed but if Gurira – one of the most detailed orientated SNCOs Izzy had ever served under – hadn't known, then clearly they hadn't been told about it.

"At the very least, I got to make sure we still have our QRF; that they haven't been reallocated to another task," Gurira finished. "So, we hit the relay point, make contact with Command, then hightail it to the objective area. That means I'm going to need every single one of you at the top of your game, because we're going to be moving fast. That means noise. Got it?"

"Got it, Senior," Izzy murmured along with everyone else as she climbed up to her feet and got ready to move out.

"Wait a minute!" Gurkha abruptly called out. "We're still missing Crawfish!"

Izzy gave start. With all the excitement, she had completely forgotten about him.

"I had Crawfish. Stashed him a little ways back while I secured the rally point. Rockstar," Izzy turned to their Pararescue medic and the only other woman on the team, Master Sergeant Joan "Rockstart" Jett. "Crawfish is wounded. He got stabbed in the left shoulder by a plasma blade. Stuffed it full of biofoam, but he immediately went into shock."

Izzy could hear Rockstar grimacing.

"We got to get him," Rockstar said, glancing in Gurira's direction, who nodded. "Where?"

"Follow me."

Without bothering to see if her team was following, Izzy plunged back into the water and started making her way back towards Crawfish. The splashes that followed her told her the rest of her team was following in her wake.

"Stashed him under a tree over here," Izzy explained as she wadded through the water. "He wasn't sounding too good; wasn't sure how good he would have been in a fight, didn't want to risk him."

"You don't have to explain, Izzy," Gurira called out.

Izzy shrugged. "Just letting you guys know. Anyways, he should be right…"

Izzy trailed off as she stared at the sight in front of her. They were at the tree where she had left Crawfish but –

"Where the fuck is Crawfish?"

Gurira pulled up beside her and depolarized his visor, allowing Izzy to see the frown on his face. "You sure this is where you left him?"

Something wrapped around the tree truck caught Izzy's eye and she surged forward. Getting closer, she realized it was the paracord she had used to tie Crawfish up.

"Yeah, I'm sure. This paracord. I used it to tie Crawfish up so he won't fucking fall…" Izzy said as she took a closer look at the cord. Aside from the single cut mark she had made when separating it from the rest of her bundle, there didn't appear to be any damage.

Feeling water getting shoved against her leg, she looked up to see Gurkha had wandered over to her to study the cord in her hands.

"It hasn't been cut," he declared and, given that he was their tracker, Izzy was inclined to trust his judgement. "You think he untied himself?"

Izzy thought back to the way she had left him. "No. He would have needed two hands, and with his left shoulder all fucked up, he couldn't have reached behind him."

"Could the knot have come undone all by itself?"

Izzy shook her head. Her parents had owned a sailboat when she was growing up; she knew her knots.

"There's no plasma scoring or bullet residue here," Poncho announced from his spot a couple meters away. "I know Crawfish: we went through SERE together. Wounded or not, there's no way he would have gone down without a fight, so it couldn't have been the Covenant."

Izzy suddenly felt a surge of panic go down her spine. If the Covenant hadn't taken Crawfish… then where the hell was he?

She glanced at Gurira. "Senior, I know we don't have a lot of time…"

"We got time for this," Gurira firmly stated. "You said he was wounded, right Izzy?"

Izzy nodded her head, suddenly too scared to say anything else.

"Then he couldn't have gotten far. Find him."

XXX

Three Hours Ago

Izzy idly twirled her baton. Made out of laminated wood, it was roughly forty-five centimeters long, and a little less than two centimeters in width. Back in high school, she had picked up eskrima as her martial arts style of choice. Of course, once she had enlisted in the Air Force, she had given it up due to time and need; after all, when fighting against aliens that weighed almost twice as much as the average human male, there was no point in trying to fight them in hand to hand combat. Shooting them from afar was a much safer option.

That being said, Izzy kind of missed it. Perhaps she could pick it up again, if only for the health benefits it provided. She would need a sparring partner, but that would be easy enough – Gurkha was their team's close-quarters combat specialist, having been a semi-professional mixed martial arts fighter before his homeworld had been glassed by the Covenant, causing him to give up his promising fighting career and enlist in the Air Force to become a Commando.

"Hey Izzy, what weapon are you bringing with you?"

Without looking, Izzy automatically lifted her arm to prevent Crawfish from accessing her personal firearms locker. "Uh-uh. Last time you went into my locker, you knocked over all my machine guns and made one fucking mess. Stay out of it."

Crawfish made a noise of exasperation.

"I told you, it was an accident. And I did offer to help clean it up, but you said no," he pointed out, but nevertheless, relented.

"But seriously," he added as he headed back to his own locker. "I'm trying to figure out what loadout I'm going to bring with me, but seeing as how heavy weapons is your domain while I'm just the backup… figured I'd give you the first draft pick."

Izzy cocked her head. "That's uncharacteristically kind of you. Normally, I can't get you to stop gripping every time we go on a mission."

Crawfish shrugged. "What can I say, I'm in a good mood."

"Fair enough. Well, I figured I would bring Cobie down with me today."

"Cobie? Really? Not Jocko or Bunny?"

"Yeah, Cobie," Izzy retorted, a bit defensively. "There's like, seven thousand Covenant soldiers on the ground right now and only eight of us. I need a weapon that I can not only rely on, but also fire non-stop for hours. You know, just in case shit hits the fan."

She glanced over to where her weapon of choice for this operation was propped up against the bulkhead wall nearby. It a standard M247 general purpose machine gun, though she had modified it slightly, having attached a horizontal grip to the right side of the handguard for better controllability when firing from the hip and the shoulder, as well as replaced the standard 560mm barrel with a much shorter, 423mm barrel for a little less weight and better maneuverability.

Aside from the modifications, Izzy had also gone ahead and affectionately named her weapon "Cobie," after her father's older sister, Jakòba "Cobie" Trokán who, as a former Marine ODST, had served as Izzy's role model growing up. Unfortunately, Staff Sergeant Cobie Trokán had been killed fighting the Covenant a couple of years before Izzy had been born, so Izzy never got the chance to meet her. However, Izzy liked to think her aunt would have been proud to know that she was still kicking ass, even long after her own unfortunate passing.

"Hmm, fair deal," Crawfish mused. "Well, maybe I'll bring the SAW then. Have something that weighs a little less, that way I can bring another weapon along. Maybe a grenade launcher. Well, I guess that would depend if Poncho is bring his M301 along. Hey, you know if Poncho is bringing his grenade launcher along?"

Izzy gave him an odd look. "It's Poncho. When has he ever not brought his grenade launcher along?"

"That's true, man does love all things that go boom."

"'Course," Izzy scoffed. "He's our demo guy. You ever met a demo guy who wasn't in love with explosives?"

"Shit," Crawfish muttered. "Well, it might be worth doubling up. Though, I guess that depends on what everyone else is bringing. I should go check with them…"

"Better hurry," Izzy advised. "We're already behind schedule, so we could potentially get the green light to drop any moment now."

"Yeah, yeah," Crawfish dismissively retorted as he scurried off to where Poncho was crouched by his locker, no doubt whispering sweet, sweet things to his collection of grenades and other explosives; to this day, Izzy wasn't sure if Poncho was actually unhinged, or just pretending to be.

Glancing around the room, Izzy looked to see what the rest of the team was up to. Unlike Crawfish, who was always a bit of a procrastinator, everyone else appeared geared and ready to go. Everyone had their weapons of choice, and were all clad in their in olive drab colored SOF armor (more commonly known as "ODST armor," having been made famous by said unit,) though no one was wearing their helmets yet.

Dutch, Gurira, and Mahmoud were all huddled in one corner, no doubt discussing some last minute changes to the op – in the twelve years Izzy had been doing this, she had yet to participate in a mission that had been able to go off without a single hitch. In the case of this operation, their QRF was the problem as, despite assurances to the contrary, neither the Army's 22nd Ranger Regiment nor the Marine Corps' 37th Regiment had been available, both units having been yanked to plug holes in the line, leaving Air Force Command scrambling to find a combat unit that could serve as a quick reaction force to Izzy and her team in the event they needed backup.

While the three of them were working on that, the rest of the team was scattered around the ready room, either relaxing like Izzy was, or undergoing their pre-mission rituals. Poncho and Crawfish were crouched by Poncho's locker, squabbling about who would be the one to bring the grenade launcher down with them on the mission. Meanwhile, Rockstar was sitting lotus style on the other side of the room with ear buds in, supposedly meditating however, even from this distance, Izzy could hear the faint thrum of the flip music she was listening to.

Finally, there was Gurkha, who aside from polishing the blades of his various melee weapons collection, didn't seem to be doing any important so Izzy figured she would go and bother him.

Picking up her chair, Izzy crossed the room and dropped it onto the ground beside Gurkha, who barely reacted to the unexpected noise, before plopping herself down.

"Sup, Gurkha?" she greeted. "Want some gum? I got – " she hastily pulled out her packs to see what they were. " – watermelon and grape?"

"No thanks, Izzy," Gurkha politely replied.

"You sure? They're 'double chewy,' Izzy enticingly said, reading off the pack. "Whatever that means."

Gurkha smirked, but shook his head and Izzy shrugged.

"Your loss then."

Staring at the two packs for a moment, Izzy settled on the watermelon one. Tearing it open, she popped a couple of sticks into her mouth. Chewing tobacco was normally her vice of choice but one thing she had learned a long time ago was that, unfortunately, the enclosed helmets they wore prevent her from spitting, so gum had to serve as a substitute.

"So," she conversationally began, "how you doing, Gurkha? You feeling alright? Figured I would ask cause I know this is only your… third mission with us?"

"Fourth," Gurkha corrected. "And, while I appreciate you checking up on me like this, Izzy, you need not have bothered: I'm just… bored, really. Thought we would have deployed by now."

"We would have, if we were riding in any other ship besides an attack transport," Izzy pointed out. "Transport like this, it doesn't have weapons, so it needs an escort but there are only so many Longswords and Navy frigates to go around. That, coupled with the fact this ship is carrying elements of the No. 333 Construction Squadron, which is not a combat unit, well, that just means we're not exactly a priority right now."

"Yeah, no, I get all that," Gurkha agreed, "It's just… not a huge fan of waiting, is all."

"I mean, yeah, military is all about waiting," he hastily added. "It's just… I dunno."

Izzy glanced at him, curious. "Surely you would have had to deal with the same thing back when you were cage fighting for a living, right? Had to be long periods where you had to wait for your turn in the arena."

"Sure, sure, and it wasn't so bad then, it was…" Gurkha hesitated. "You know, back then, I was fighting for money, fame, and reputation. Like, those were the stakes if I were to lose. But, here? Actually lives are at stake. I mean, if we fail, a lot of people could potentially die. Hell, even if we succeed, a lot of people are probably still going to die. It just, you know, amps the pressure up considerably."

Gurkha gave a sort of nervous laugh, before reaching down to his waist and pulling out a kukri knife. Izzy had seen him carry it with him a few times in training missions and actual operations, but this was the first time she had seen it up close.

"That's a beautiful kukri you have there," she noted.

"Thanks."

Izzy held out her hands. "May I?"

After a moment's thought, Gurkha seemed to shrug before handing the knife over. Izzy cautiously took it from him, before giving it a couple of experimental twirls, noting how smoothly it cut through the air.

"Arnis?" Gurkha unexpectedly asked and at Izzy's questioning look, he elaborated, "You're using the knife like you've trained in arnis."

Izzy blinked at that, before suddenly remembering arnis was just another name for eskrima.

"Yep," she replied without elaborating. Giving the blade one last twirl, she calmly handed the kukri back. "That's a good knife right there. Where the hell you get something like that?"

"My great, great, great grandfather made it," Gurkha replied as he tucked the knife back into it's sheath with a satisfying click. Izzy stared at him.

"No shit?"

"No shit," Gurkha confirmed. "Blade's been with my family for years now. My grandfather carried it when he was in the Army, as did my father when he served with the Marines. Now it's my turn."

"Holy shit," Izzy muttered. "You're a far braver person than I am, Gurkha."

"I would not carry something like that with that much history into the battlefield," Izzy explained at Gurkha's questioning look. "I mean, what are you going to do if you fucking lost it? I would lose my shit if that were to happen."

"It was made for war – it was designed to spill the blood of her enemies, not to be sitting in some vacuumed-sealed display in some museum, to be gawked at by a bunch of un-bloodied civilians, who would never understand what it's like to feel the glory of battle," Gurkha solemnly replied, causing Izzy to stare him.

"You serious?" she finally asked, once she had found her voice.

Gurkha somberly nodded, but then Izzy clocked the corner of his lip twitching as it threatened to break out in a smile and she realized she had been had. "Ah, fuck you dude!"

"Sorry," Gurkha said as he broke out laughing. "Couldn't help myself – that's usually the type of shit most people expect me to say the moment they find out I'm of Gorkhali descent. Gotta act all, 'poetic warrior,' or some shit like that."

"Nah, truth of the matter is, I was of the same mind as you – like hell I was gonna be the generation to lose this thing. But my parents insisted; said it was the Kunwar-family good luck charm. I mean, I suppose they have a point: my great, great, gramps made it through the various bushfires wars in the Outer Colonies without a scratch, my grandfather survived the Insurrection without a scratch, and my pa made it through the first half of the Covenant War without a scratch." Gurkha shrugged. "Hopefully it'll last? At any case, the knife acts as kind of like a promise: I promised my parents I would bring it back to them. Gotta be alive to do that, you know?"

Izzy nodded. That, she could understand. For some warriors, it helped them to know they had something physical to cling to, a symbol of yes, they had something to go back to therefore, and they had to make it through whatever shithole situation they found themselves stuck in.

Izzy opened her mouth to reply, but never got the chance to because at that moment, there was a loud buzz, and the lights in the room immediately turned red.

"Alright, Commandos!" Dutch yelled as he walked back into the room. "You heard the music: it's time to dance! Equipment check, let's go!"

Climbing to her feet, Izzy tossed her helmet on, then immediately began patting herself down, making sure every pouch, clamp, and zipper was closed and secured as, once they were in their pods, they would have no chance. And once they were on the ground, they would potentially come under immediate fire, meaning if something was lost or damaged during transit, they were screwed.

As soon as she was done, she glanced at Gurkha and gestured for him to turn around, which he did to allow her a chance to check his back and make sure everything was secured there. Once she was done, Gurkha proceeded to do the same thing for her.

"Sound off for equipment check!" Dutch hollered, he voice sounding a bit muffled because of his helmet.

"Gurkha's okay!" she heard Gurkha yell.

"Izzy's okay!" Izzy yelled immediately after him.

One by one, the rest of the team certified they were okay, with Dutch finishing last. Lifting his rifle, he yelled, "Lock and load people!"

Izzy absentmindedly nodded as she pulled out her sidearm, loaded a magazine, and chambered around. Reaching down, she made sure to grab Cobie before loading a fresh, two hundred round belt of ammo. All around her, the clicks and clacks of everyone doing the same to their weapons filled the air.

"Pods! Drop in two minutes!" Dutch declared, before leaving the room with the rest of the team in tow.

They headed down the hallway to where a couple of Air Force crew chiefs stood by a row of open drop pods, all waiting for their operators to climb in before they were sealed. Izzy automatically headed for her assigned pod, marked by a glowing red "5," and climbed in. Securing her weapon into the rack right next to her seat, Izzy plopped down and strapped herself in. One of the crew chiefs stopped by to certify she was secured, and as soon as he was done, he was immediately replaced by the other crew chief, who was holding two data disc in her hands.

Recognizing what needed to be done, Izzy reached up and popped out the memory chip for both her helmet, as well as her TACPAD, and exchanged them for the disc the crew chief handed her. Satisfied that all of her electronics had been sanitized of sensitive data, and that if she were to be captured alive by the Covenant she wouldn't be responsible for accidently leaking any classified material, Izzy reached out and thumbed a button, and watched as he pod door came sliding down, sealing her in.

Reaching up to her helmet, Izzy activated her radio, making sure it was set to the right TEAMCOM channel in time to hear Mahmoud saying, "You know, I'm kind of surprised neither the ODSTs nor NSW tried to grab this mission from us. Especially the SEALs. VBSS might be our bread and butter, but hostage rescue is kind of more of their thing."

"This late into the fucking war? You serious?" Poncho immediately retorted. "At this point, all those morons are more concerned about is increasing their kill counts. Especially the ODSTs – after all, they've spent half the war trying to convince the general populace they're the only special operations group around. Trying to rescue people? No, that's way too fucking boring. If anything, those two units would have gone out of their way to avoid this op."

Izzy resisted the urge to snort. Poncho may have been biased as fuck – for some reason, he had a massive grudge against the amount of publicity the ODSTs got compared to any other SOF group around – but she had to admit, he had a bit of a point. All the ODSTs she had ever worked with were just a tad bit too bloodthirsty and war hungry for her liking.

"Alright, stow the chatter Commandos," Dutch commanded. "We got an op to run, and a doctor to rescue. Let's sound off for radio check."

Izzy cleared her throat. "Izzy here. Read you loud and clear."

The rest of the team began sounding off and as they did, Izzy could feel her pod suddenly rotating as it was moved into launch position. All of her screens abruptly flickered on, revealing the helmeted faces of both Dutch and Gurira, while just below her feet, a metal hatch was opening, revealing the colony of New Llanelli, in all her glory. Glancing to the left and right, Izzy could see the pods of the rest of her team, all in position for launch. If she remembered correctly, Crawfish was just off to her right while… was it Poncho?... was off to her left.

"All Commandos present and accounted for," Dutch declared, interrupting Izzy's sightseeing. "Control Tower, this is Winnipeg Actual, we are go for launch."

"Copy that, Winnipeg. The Çelikten is moving into final position. You are T minus thirty seconds till launch."

Izzy could hear some murmuring over the radio, but she ignored it as she focused on the planet below her, wondering if she could somehow see their drop zone. She couldn't, of course, because of how high she was, but she still tried nevertheless. It was funny: there was a time when she remembered being afraid of so much as looking down when she sat in these pods. Now, after hundreds of similar drops to this – while ODSTs were most famous for their ability to be deployed from orbit, they weren't the only unit with that capability – Izzy barely felt a tremble in her heart. The only thing she was concerned about was doing her job, and doing it well. As Gurkha had pointed out, a lot of lives were potentially riding on the success of this mission.

Without warning, a loud chiming filled her pod, and Izzy looked up to see the ship had reached their final approach.

"All pods launching in five," someone was reciting in her head. "Four, three, two, one…"

A green light briefly shined into her pod and, glancing to her left, she could see the pods there beginning to get systematically launched from the ship in the direction of the planet, and she closed her eyes, knowing what was about to come next.

Sure enough, there was a loud bang just above her head before her stomach was abruptly thrust into her throat as they were off.

"…five away, six away, seven away."

Someone was counting in her head again, and it didn't take a genius to know Çelikten's central aircraft controller was making sure all the drop pods had neatly separated from the ship.

"…eight away. Winnipeg, Tower: all pods away. You're on your own now. Good luck."

"Copy," Dutch's voice, sounding strained, replied. "Thanks Tower, break. Dutch to Team: ten seconds to Waypoint Bravo, standby for course correction, on my mark."

Izzy's eyes snapped open, and she glanced at her screen which was currently showing their route down to the surface. At the moment, they were fast approaching what appeared to be a dry dock cradle for a fleet carrier sized ship; evidently, the Çelikten's commander had decided to use it for cover, to try and reduce the amount of time the pods would potentially be exposed to enemy sensors.

"Mark."

With a mere touch of a button, the pods automatically shuffled around the station and as they shot by, Izzy could see all sorts of holes had been burned into the station's hull, indicating it had taken quite a bit of fire. The station looked dead, and Izzy couldn't help but shudder at the thought of how many people had been aboard that station when it had gone dark.

She shook her head and forced herself to look back down. At the moment, it would appear they were all clear: they were on a direct course for the surface of the planet.

"Ontario, this is Winnipeg: be advised, status is nominal, out."

There was a mute click as Dutch switched his mic off, and for a moment Izzy thought they would be riding the rest of the way in silence, when there was a hiss of static and Briggs' voice suddenly sounded in their heads.

"Winnipeg, this is Ontario 2, be advised, we're receiving some last minute information we think you need to know."

"First off, that squall we were tracking earlier is moving faster than predicted and will be on top of the objective area within two hours. SOWT is telling us that if you get caught by that storm, your comms will be disrupted and visibly will drop to possibly five meters or less. However, if you're quick enough with the objective, you'll be able to use the storm as cover during your extraction."

"Next, QRF is now being provided by Frogmen from the Navy's UDT 3, call sign: Yorkshire. Also, your extraction will actually be AV-14 Hornets provided by the Army's 173rd Special Operations Aviation Regiment, call sign: Julian 2, instead of Falcons as originally indicated. Frequencies for new units are being uploaded to your TACPADs now, how copy, over?"

"Copy, receiving upload now," Dutch smoothly replied as Izzy let out a groan of annoyance. Seriously? Receiving changes now, of all times? This was clearly a government operation.

At first, she thought that was the last of the updates, but then Briggs' voice sounded over the radio once more only this time, he sounded pissed. "Also, Winnipeg, be advised: we're just getting word right now from New Llanelli UNICOM that, they lost contact with the lab roughly three hours ago. As of right now, we have no current, up-to-date information in regards to your current DZ – you may be dropping in hot, over."

"Are you ser – Ontario, Winnipeg: we copy all traffic," Dutch snapped. "Dutch to team: we might be headed for a spot of trouble. Be ready to move the moment we hit the ground, out."

Tightly gripping her armrest, Izzy glanced over to make sure Cobie was locked and loaded in case she was needed the moment they hit the ground. As she did, Izzy couldn't help but let out a string of curse words –

- this was not a good way to start a mission.

XXX

Present

Izzy felt like shooting someone. Unfortunately, there weren't any Covenant around, so she instead focused on trudging through the water as fast as she could.

How could see have let this happen? How could she have been so careless? And she dared call herself a Commando? Fuck!

Her aunt would be so ashamed of her right now.

"Izzy."

Izzy ignored Rockstar calling her name over their private channel the two of them shared. She knew what Rockstar was going to say and to be frank, Izzy wasn't in the mood to hear it.

"Izzy, it wasn't your fault."

"The fuck it ain't," Izzy reflexively snapped, and before she could stop herself, the rest came spewing out. "I should have been watching him; I knew he was wounded, but I still fucking left him. I should have stayed right beside him."

"Izzy." Rockstar's voice was warm and gentle. "You had to secure the rally point."

"I could have fucking brought him with me!" Izzy snapped back.

"Then you would have gotten him killed; as badly wounded as he was, he wouldn't have been able to do anything. Not shoot back, not take cover, nothing."

"Then at least we would fucking know where he was!" Izzy angrily snarled, and Rockstar didn't seem to know how to respond to that as she immediately fell silent, leaving Izzy to stew in anger and guilt.

Izzy and the rest of the team had practically torn apart the area of the swamp Crawfish had been last seen and they had come up with nothing, not even when they took turns diving beneath the surface to see if Crawfish had somehow slipped underwater. There was absolutely no trace of him; nor were they any clues as to where he could have gone or why. After ten minutes of frantic searching, Gurira had ordered them to move on which, intellectually speaking Izzy knew was the right call due to their time limitations, but the order had infuriated her to no end. Izzy had been hoping to pass through the area once more on their way to the lab after they reestablished contact with Command, but unfortunately their route hadn't taken them anywhere near where Crawfish had been, leaving Izzy struggling with her anger and her guilt.

How could this have happened? How could she have let this happen?

"Izzy."

Izzy didn't bother responding.

"Izzy, I'm know you're upset," Rockstar continued, "and that you're blaming yourself for the situation right now. I also you're not going to believe me when I say: you're not at fault. But even you have to know that this is not the time nor the place for your misplaced guilt. We're still on a mission; we're still surrounded by hostiles, and we still have yet to secure that VIP. You can't lose focus now, the team needs you."

"Just like how Crawfish needed me!?" Izzy immediately snapped back, before reining her temper back in.

"Sorry," she mutely said, once she had brought her anger back under control. "You didn't deserve that."

She glanced over her shoulder, only Rockstar appeared unperturbed. "S'right. Being angry is fine just… try and use it against the Covenant and not against yourself, at least for now."

Izzy took a deep breath before slowly releasing it. That, she could do, at least for a few hours until they got the fuck out of here. "Fine. What's been the situation so far?"

Perhaps it was her imagination, but Rockstar seemed a bit relieved. "Well, we're about a hundred meters out, way within communications range of the lab, even with all of this shit." She gestured at the fog surrounding them. "Gurira's been trying to contact the lab, or at least the lab's SF guards, but nada. We're not getting anything. Either communications are all fucked or…"

"There's no one left in the lab to pick up," Izzy finished, feeling that familiar sense of dread descend upon her. "Great. So we know nothing; for all we know, we could be walking into an ambush."

"Which is why we need you."

"Don't fucking push it, Joan," Izzy shortly said. "I get it, and I'm here. Just, leave it alone for a bit."

Rockstar didn't reply and when Izzy glanced in her direction, she realized it was because the PJ was slowing down. Glancing over at Gurira, she realized he was gesturing for them to get down and, looking forward, Izzy realized she could see the hulking form of the lab looming out of the fog in front of them.

"That's the lab?" she heard Poncho asking. "Kind of small, ain't it?"

"This is just the north entrance. The lab itself is buried underground," Gurira explained as he balanced his rifle on top of a nearby log and started scanning the door. "Rockstar! You got the DMR. What do you see? Any movement?"

Izzy glanced over at Rockstar, only to see her peering through her 3x EVOS-D scope mounted on top of her M392 DMR.

"Negative, boss," Rockstar reported after a few moments. "Don't see shit."

Gurira was silent for a moment.

"Izzy."

Izzy shifted. "Yeah, Sar'nt?"

"Cover our six," Gurira commanded. "Gurkha, on point. Poncho, cover the left flank, I'll cover the right. Rockstar, in the center and keep your eyes locked on that entrance. We should have triggered some sort of motion sensor or perimeter alarm by now, so if anyone is still in that lab… well, the Rock Apes should have sent someone out to take a look. Let me know if that happens."

"Copy, Senior."

"Let's take it nice and easy Commandos; by the book. Go."

Almost as one, the entire team slowly and silently began to advance on the entrance. Izzy stared out into the swamp behind, occasionally glancing forward to make sure she wasn't about to run into anything, but for the most part, kept an eye for any hostiles that may have been attempting to sneak up on them.

As she kept watch, Izzy felt a shiver of fear pass down her spine. She had been distracted earlier by her anger and grief, but now that she was paying attention again, she couldn't help but feel like there was a certain… wrongness about this swamp. This wasn't the first marshlands Izzy had found herself fighting in and truth be told, she was never a big fan of it. But nothing in her experience could really compare to the… unnatural feeling of this area. The frustrating thing was, Izzy couldn't even really pin down what it was that was causing all of the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up. The only thing she did know was that she wasn't the only one being affected, as evident by the tightness in Gurira's voice, or the stiff way Rockstar held herself, or even the frantic way Poncho and Gurkha caressed their weapons.

Not helping the mood was the sporadic burst of plasma fire they kept hearing in the distance. Izzy knew they hadn't eliminated all Covenant presence in this swamp, but since the encounter at the rally point, they had yet to run into anymore. And yet, the Covenant continued to fire off the occasional round, as if they were engaging something. The real mystery was: what? Command had confirmed that aside from the friendlies at the lab, no other UNSC forces had been deployed here, and it couldn't have been Dutch or Crawfish as both of the men were smart enough to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Plus, Izzy and the others never heard any return gunfire. Only plasma.

"Maybe the Covenant are doing recon by fire," Poncho suddenly suggested, and Izzy abruptly realized he had been thinking the same thing she had.

"Maybe you should shut up and focus on the task at hand," Gurira snapped and Poncho immediately fell silent. "Rockstar: anything?"

"I'm not seeing any signs of life, boss," Rockstar distractedly replied. "But I'm not seeing any signs of violence either. The lab looks… well, abandoned."

Gurira didn't respond and Izzy glanced over her shoulder in his direction. There was a tightness to his shoulders that she had never seen in the five years she had served under him, and the realization that Gurira was far more spooked by this situation than he was letting on nearly sent her into a panic.

The mystery of the swamp hadn't gotten any clearer by the time they reached the entrance. The entrance itself was completely intact; no sign of forced entry, or even attempted force entry. Any other day, Izzy would have assumed that was a good thing but today?

Gurira abruptly cleared his throat, causing Izzy to jump. She looked around, only to see everyone was expectantly looking at her, and it took her a few moments to remember why.

"Right," she said, feeling a tad bit embarrassed. She was the backup breacher, and with Crawfish MIA…

Handing off Cobie to Rockstar, Izzy reached into a pouch and pulled out her spoofer.

"Rockstar, Poncho, cover our six," Gurira commanded as Izzy attached the spoofer to the control panel next to the door. "Gurkha, prepare to clear. Izzy, how long is this going to take?"

"Hopefully a couple of seconds," Izzy distractedly replied as she connected her TACPAD to the spoofer.

Five minutes later, Gurira was clearly getting inpatient.

"Alright Izzy, talk to me," he finally said. "What's the hold up?"

"I'm not sure," Izzy admitted. "I tried entering the passcode Briggs gave us: nothing. Tried the command overwrite: didn't take. Even tried a factory reset – yeah, didn't work either."

"What's the problem?"

"If I knew that, Senior, we would be inside already."

She could hear Gurira sigh behind her, but Izzy refused to feel guilty for her comment.

"Can you backdoor this shit?" he finally asked.

"What I'm working on right now."

"This is really Crawfish's domain, not mine," she added.

She blinked as her TACPAD was suddenly filled with all sorts of coding. "Alright, I think I'm in. Now, all I need to do is change the password to something stupid and then…" she paused. "Huh. That's… weird."

"What is?"

Gurira's face was instantly propped on her shoulder, staring intensely at Izzy's TACPAD.

"The password reader program is missing."

"What does that mean?"

Izzy hesitated, trying to figure out how to explain a concept she herself wasn't entirely an expert on. "Well, it's like this. Everything on a computer is run by a program, right? Even simple shit like when to blink a certain light. Well, there's a program that reads the sequence of numbers and letters you type in and sees if it matches the password they have on memory. If it matches, then that program sends a signal to the program that opens the door. If it doesn't, well, nothing happens. Either way, you need the program to read the password to being with. That program? Yeah, gone."

Izzy could feel the eyes of her teams staring at her, and she shuffled a bit uncomfortably. This was really not her domain.

"How… do you accidently lose that program?" Gurira finally asked.

"You can't. You would have to delete it directly from the source code."

"So… what you're saying is, someone did this deliberately. Great." Gurira groaned. "So… the door is permanently locked then."

"Not exactly, but it might as well be. It's like trying to open a door without a fucking doorknob. It can be done, it's just… difficult."

"Could you rewrite the program?"

"Yeah, I could probably whip up something simple in like, five, ten minutes," Izzy admitted. "But I don't know what else has been deleted. It would take me at least an hour just to debug this thing."

"Which is time we don't have," Gurira mutely said, before turning to Poncho. "Alright Poncho, guess we're blowing the door. Break out the C-12 and let's hope this doesn't attract too much attention.

"Senior, there is something else I could try," Izzy suggested before Poncho could do anything. "I could try to overload the hardware for the doorway. If I remember correctly, with these model blast doors, if you juice the hardware with enough voltage, it'll cause them to open – just by a few centimeters, mind you, but enough we could wedge it open."

"That sounds like a design flaw," Poncho immediately noted. Izzy shrugged.

"Not really? It's hard to do because if you don't hit it with enough voltage, it doesn't do anything but if you hit with too much, well, it fries the circuitry. Permanently seals the door."

Izzy glanced at Gurira to see what he thought, only to see him shrugging.

"I'd like to keep the door intact," he replied. "So, why not? Worse comes to worse, we'll blow it."

He glanced at Poncho, who shrugged, then glanced at Izzy and nodded.

"I need a power source. Like a strong battery," was all she said.

Gurira immediately reached down and pulled out a spare battery for his radio. "This work?"

Izzy grabbed the offered device. "Guess we'll find out."

Pulling out a couple of alligators cables from her bag, Izzy quickly rigged the battery to the door. Before she made the last connection and completed the circuit, she paused and glanced over her shoulder.

"You guys might want to step back," she suggested.

"Just do it, Izzy."

Izzy shrugged and made the final connection.

ZZZT!

Izzy's visor automatically darkened as sparks leapt out from the control panel. At first, Izzy thought she fucked up, but then there was a mute groan and the double door blast panels keeping them out abruptly separated by a few centimeters.

Neither Gurira nor Gurkha needed any prompting. Even as Izzy whipped out her sidearm, they grabbed one edge of the door and slowly wrenched the door open to reveal –

- a small secure room large enough to fit the entire team, then another pair of sealed blast doors.

Ignoring the small security window mounted on the side of wall as it was clearly empty, Izzy walked straight for the next door, spoofer in hand. But before she could even begin to try and hack them open, she stopped.

"Senior, these blast doors have been welded shut," she reported, running her finger down the crack where the two doors met.

"What?" Poncho demanded as he shoved his way to the front. Izzy allowed him to take her place – demolitions was his responsibility, after all.

As she waited for Poncho to conduct his analysis, Izzy wandered over to the security booth window. There was no way to access the booth from this side of the blast doors, obviously, and the booth itself was all dark because the lights were off, but Izzy had a flashlight mounted on her helmet. Activating it, Izzy was shocked to discover the booth was completely destroyed.

"The hell?" she whispered.

"Looks like someone tossed a grenade in there," someone commented over her shoulder and, looking up, Izzy saw Gurira was staring at the same thing she was. He pulled out a small hand flashlight and began pointing at things Izzy had missed. "Door controls are all smashed, probably with a sledgehammer; cameras have been shot with a standard M6 magnum; and the radio has been thermited." He and Izzy exchanged a glance. "Someone really didn't want us getting in."

"Y'all can say that again," Poncho suddenly declared, causing Izzy to jump. "Senior, as far as I can tell, this door has been welded from the inside. Possibly with thermite-carbon cord. Very professionally done. Not a lot of people have the training it would take to pull this off." He paused. "Hey, that roster of Rock Apes guarding this place that Briggs provided: didn't I see one of them was an EOD tech?"

"Hang on," Rockstar interrupted, holding up a hand. "Are you saying the Rock Apes guarding this place did this? Why the hell would they do that!? Surely Command informed them we were coming."

"I dunno, Rockstar. If they were here, I could ask them, but they ain't here, are they?" Poncho sarcastically replied.

"Hey, Izzy!"

They all turned to see Gurkha staring intently at the door control panel. "What is this?"

Izzy walked over to where he was, only to see him staring at a blinking light on the door's control panel.

"Only one way to find out," she noted as she extended a finger. She glanced at Gurira for approval, who glanced around the room at the rest of the team. The sound of safeties being disabled filled the air, before Gurira nodded, and Izzy pressed the button before immediately stepping back.

At once, a holographic image of white lady in her mid to late forties in a lab coat filled the room. The lady was looking something off to her right, allowing Izzy to see the blue star tattoo she had located behind her left ear. As Izzy watched, the lady in the hologram absentmindedly lifted her left hand to brush back some of her brunette hair, allowing Izzy to clock the red heart tattoo the woman had on the proximal phalanx of her ring finger, exactly where a person would have put a ring if they were wearing one.

On screen, Izzy watched as a uniformed arm abruptly appeared, handing the lady something Izzy couldn't see, before the lady finally turned and stared directly into the camera, allowing Izzy to see the woman had two different colored eyes: a green one and a brown one. Izzy could only think of one thing to say.

"Fuck."

"Is that… is that the fucking HRP?" she heard Poncho ask, but before anyone could answer him, the lady on the hologram began to speak.

"My name is Doctor Juliette Elaine Kracker, UNSC identification number five, six, nine, two, four dash seven, nine, six, three, five dash Juliett Kilo –" In the background, Izzy could hear Gurira quickly typing something into his TACPAD and when he started swearing, Izzy knew it was confirmed: this was indeed the doctor they were supposed to extract – "This is a message for the team of Commandos coming to extract me: under no circumstances, should you try to access this lab. I will say it again: do not, under any circumstances, try to open this door. No matter what, I am begging you."

That caught Izzy's attention and she immediately turned her entire attention back to the hologram message. As she did, Izzy was suddenly struck with the realization at how terrified Kracker looked.

On screen, Kracker had paused, as if to allow Izzy and her team a chance to fully absorb the warning she had been giving them, before swallowing and opening her mouth to continue speaking. This time though, because Izzy was now aware of it, she paid close attention to the way Kracker's wide and terror filled eyes seemed to dart around the room she was in, as if she expected to be attacked at any moment, as well as all the sweat that was pouring down her brow and the tremor in her voice as she spoke.

"To begin with, I'm a biochemist who is currently under the employment of the UNSC Air Force. I was hired by them a year ago to work on…" Kracker hesitated, but then she sighed. "I'm not supposed to say, but I guess it doesn't matter at this point: I was hired by the UNSC in order to design and create a potential biological weapon that could be used against the aliens known as the Covenant."

Izzy felt her eyebrows shoot up at the revelation, though truth be told, she wasn't entirely shocked: with failing fortunes in the war against the Covenant, the UNSC was getting increasingly desperate for a new "wonder weapon" that could change the tide. Nuclear weapons could only get them so far, so it didn't surprise Izzy that the UNSC had turned to the other weapons under the umbrella of "weapons of mass destruction."

"This has obviously been tried before in the past," Kracker was saying, "both with biological and chemical weapons, but it has never succeed to any degree. The problem is, the Covenant are too diverse; consisting of a coalition of species that have originated from and evolved on a vast array of planets, with ranging and contrasting environments and conditions. Therefore, any biological or chemical weapon would need to be just as diverse in order to adversely affect all members of the Covenant Empire. However, any biological or chemical compound capable of doing that would just as easily affect humans and obviously, that is a less than ideal situation. However, last year, something changed: we lost the Battle of Actium and with that, UNSC High Command's compunction to strike back at the Covenant, no matter the human cost. Which is where I come in."

"In 2527, an earthquake occurred on this colony, and a sinkhole was opened up in the middle of these swamps. In that sinkhole, a series of ancient ruins was discovered. Within those ruins, a single vial was found, containing an unknown biological compound with properties… never seen before by human science. The vial was seized by the Office of Naval Intelligence, who kept it in storage before it was eventually turned over to the Air Force, who in turn, handed it over to me in the hopes I would be able to extract its secrets and turn it into a weapon they could use. In that regard, I was… happenstantially successful."

There was a loud bang in the background of the hologram, one that caused Kracker to jump and accidently knock the camera over, which caused Kracker to disappear from sight for a moment. As she frantically moved to pick the camera back up, Izzy listened closely, and in the background, she could hear more banging, followed by the distinct sound of an MA37 assault rifle being chambered. Then, the camera righted itself, showing Kracker's face once more, only this time, Izzy was surprised to see Kracker was closed to tears.

"I don't have a lot of time," Kracker was saying and, based on the background, she was clearly running down a hall. "All you need to know is that in the course of my experimentation, I discovered that this biological compound wasn't just biological matter, it was DNA from a living, thinking creature. And that it was still alive."

"This creatures seems to defy all attempts of classification, however there's only one thing in my mind to call it: it's a parasite. One that is capable of taking over any sort of biological material."

Kracker was speaking very quickly now, almost as if she was running out of time. She jumped as the sound of more banging filled the air, only this time, much to Izzy's alarm, this banging was followed by the sound of automatic weapons fire. She shared a look with Gurira. Had the Covenant somehow broken into the lab?

Izzy's attention was drawn back to the video when she realized Kracker had run into a containment room of some sorts, and was doing her best to bar the door.

"I should have destroyed it as soon as I realized what it was doing to the corpse of that animal," Kracker was saying as she worked. "But I couldn't help myself: reanimation of deceased tissue that complex should not have been possible. But I didn't, and now my entire lab is paying for that mistake."

Kracker shoved a cabinet over in front of the door, creating a loud crash. That seemed to satisfy her because she immediately ran back to the camera.

"My professors always told me my curiosity would be the death of me, but I don't think even they could have predicted this. I don't know how it escaped – maybe the vibrations from the Covenant's initial bombardment damaged one of our containment fields – but it did, and it started taking over. There's a sort of malicious intelligence to its actions and somehow, it is learning.The parasite grabbed one of my security guards and somehow, it instantly knew… things. Passwords, access codes, the combination to the weapons locker which I didn't even know. It tried to escape through the southern entrance but Captain… Captain Brewer was able to stop it. I had the rest of the security team weld all the doors shut and delete all password access programs in order to slow it down, but I think at least one specimen managed to escape into the swamps above through the ventilation system before it was sealed, I don't know. All I know is what it's doing to the bodies of all the personnel it's killed. And I refused to become one of them."

Kracker suddenly lifted the object that had been handed to her at the beginning of the video, and to Izzy's horror, it was a phosphorus grenade.

"If you're still listening," she gasped, "please tell my children that their mother loves them very much. And that she died trying to secure their future. But, no matter what you do, DO NOT TRY TO GAIN ACCESS TO THIS LAB! They cannot be allowed out otherwise, they could prove to be a worse threat than the Covenant!"

There was sudden banging on the door, and Kracker whirled around.

"NO!" she suddenly started screaming. "YOU WON'T TAKE ME!"

With that, she activated the grenade, hugged it against her chest and –

Izzy couldn't help but hiss and turn away from the image. Fortunately, it didn't last long as a single flack of burning phosphorus leapt up and adhered itself to the camera, destroying it, and ending the video.

For a long moment, none of Izzy's team spoke, all trying to absorb everything they had just heard. Finally, Gurira cleared his throat.

"Izzy."

"Sir?" Izzy automatically said, then grimaced. "I mean: yes, Sergeant?"

"Any chance this is a fake video?"

Izzy stared at him, incredulous. "That's a pretty elaborate video to fake, Senior."

"Just fucking check, Tech Sergeant!" Gurira snapped and Izzy immediately consulted her TACPAD.

"Well, I obviously don't have the original video to look at, but based on the time stamps and pixels and whatever…" Izzy hesitated. "I don't really have a reason to doubt the veracity of this video, Sergeant."

Gurira vigorously rapped his knuckles against his own helmet before turning to Rockstar. "Can you confirmed that was our HRP?"

Rockstar cocked her head. "Well, aside from the fact she positively identified herself, from what I can tell, her physical characteristics match the description we were given of her to a T, from her appearance, to the positioning of her tattoos, even her heterochromia. So yes, I'm very confident that was her."

"Good enough for me," Gurira said, before abruptly snapping to Poncho. "Poncho!"

Poncho jumped. "Yeah, Senior?"

"How many claymores you got?"

"Two."

"Set them up under the security booth – rig it so that anyone who comes through either of these sets of doors," he gestured at the one that lead further into the lab, and the one that lab out, "gets a face full of fucking ball bearings."

"Consider it done, Senior."

"Izzy," Gurira said as he pulled out a length of thermite-carbon cord, "fry the circuits on this inner door, and as soon as we leave, do the same to the outer ones. We'll also weld it shut behind us, just in case."

Izzy nodded in acknowledgement, before setting about her task.

"Sergeant."

Izzy looked up to see Gurkha standing at the entrance, and even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was confused. "What are we doing? Shouldn't we be investigating this?"

"Senior Airman, it's been my experience that, when a scientist tells you to do something, you fucking do it," Gurira explained. "So, when the good doctor here tells me not to open a specific door, I don't fucking open the goddamn door under any circumstance. As far as I'm concerned, everybody in this facility is dead, therefore, they are all secured. Which means, this mission is complete. Only thing left to do is nuke this facility from orbit. So, let's get the fuck out of here before the Covies show up. Izzy, Poncho, status?"

"Claymores in place, Senior."

"Door circuits fried."

"Good."

They headed out back into the swamp, only pausing long enough for Gurira to activate the thermite-carbon cording he placed over the outer doors, welding them shut. As soon as he was done, he grabbed his rifle.

"Time to leave people," he commanded. "And let's just hope that whatever the fuck managed to escape the lab, the Covenant dealt with. MOVE IT OUT, DOUBLE TIME!"

They took off running.

XXX

Three hours later

Sometime later, Izzy found herself standing on one of the observation decks of the UNSC Çelikten, still feeling a little bit damp from having to ride on the outside of a Hornet through a heavy thunderstorm, staring out at New Llanelli below. The rest of her team was standing beside her, shoulder to shoulder. Each one of them was carrying a shot glass filled with whiskey. None of them had had the chance to change out of their armor, but in an attempt to add a bit more formality to the ceremony, they had all adorned their berets: dark blue representing their status as Air Parachute Commandos, while Rockstar wore her maroon beret, indicating her status as a pararescueman.

Sitting on the deck in front of them were three other berets: two dark blue for Dutch and Crawfish, and one pewter gray for Mahmoud.

"Till Valhalla, gentlemen, till Valhalla. Until then, rest easy," Gurira was saying.

"Rest easy," Izzy murmured, then, along with everyone else, she lifted her glass in one single, final salute, before downing the liquid. She grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down her throat, but otherwise, gave no other reaction.

Instead, she just stared out the window. In the distance, she could see two Navy frigates pulling out from low orbit. Even though she hadn't seen it, she knew those two ships had been given a very specific task: fire two MAC rounds a piece at the area known as the Great Dismal Swamp.

"What did you say to Command, to get them to approve the strike?" she finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Nothing," Gurira replied after a few moments. "I just sent Doctor Kracker's last message up the chain of command. I figured they were going to want to debrief me before they made any decisions, but five minutes later, they approved the strike."

Izzy snapped her head in his direction, but he was steadfastly staring at the planet below them.

"That must be the smartest thing I've ever heard a government or military agency ever doing," she said after a moment's thought.

"They must have had some inkling as to what was going on down there," Gurira murmured. "At the very least, they would have wanted to prevent the Covenant from getting their hands on it. Whatever it was."

There was a sudden flash from the surface of the colony, followed by a fiery orange cloud that sent ripples through New Llanelli's atmosphere. Izzy didn't ask, as she already knew what the plan had been: four MAC rounds to crack open the lab, followed by a single, HAVOK tactical nuclear weapon to thoroughly eradicate all traces of whatever had been down there.

"Guess we'll never find out what was in that lab," Izzy commented.

Gurira abruptly turned towards her and stared at her.

"I don't think we ever want to," he whispered.

XXXXX

It wouldn't be until six years later, when she found herself fighting in a similar looking swamp on the surface of an artificial ring floating in the middle of nowhere, would Senior Master Sergeant Izabella "Izzy" Trokán finally understand the galactical disaster she inadvertently helped prevent all those years ago.

Great Dismal Swamp: there actually is a real life swamp called the Great Dismal Swamp. It covers the southern Virginia and northern North Carolina area. It should not be confused with the Dismal Swamp, which is a different swamp up in New Jersey.

New Llanelli: New Llanelli is a canon colony. It was invaded by the Covenant in 2546. Not many details about the battle are known, only it probably wasn't a major battle given how lightly populated the colony was (which only had three major settlements.)

UNSC Çelikten: the ship Izzy and her team were riding in is the UNSC Çelikten, a UNSC Air Force attack transport. This is not a canon vessel, it one from my headcanon (see Missing in Action, chapter 1 for more details.) The full name of the ship is supposed to be the UNSC Ahmet Ali Çelikten, and is named after Captain Ahmet Ali Çelikten, (also known as İzmirli Ahmet Ali,) a fighter pilot who served with the Ottoman military during WWI, and is recognized to be the world's first black fighter pilot.

Rock Apes: in case anyone was wondering, "Rock Apes" is the nickname given to members of the British Royal Air Force Regiment, who are the RAF equivalent to the United States Air Force Security Forces (or vice versa as the RAF Regiment was founded first.) USAF SF are, in turn, the USAF equivalent of military police. I mentioned this in one of my stories, one of the things I was trying to do in my Halo stories, was add a bit more of an international influence so that the UNSC in my stories was less "United States Military in space" and more, well, "United Nations in Space," but admittedly my knowledge on other militaries is very limited.

But, speaking of which…

General Notes

One thing I want to mention, because I'm not sure it was made entirely clear, the team mentioned in this story are not Marine ODSTs, but are intended to be their UNSC Air Force counterparts. I mentioned in one of my previous stories that, given how similar the UNSC is to the United States military, one of the things that would transfer over is the idea that each service branch would have a special operations unit they would loan out to the UNSC equivalent of JSOC (Joint Special Operations Command,) and that each unit would have a specific role to play. The Marine Corps, for example, would of course have their ODSTs battalions, who would be the UNSC equivalent to U.S. Army Rangers and would play three major roles: as shock troops for the Marine Corps as a whole (like the USA Ranger battalions did in WW2,) as a supporting role for other SOF units (like the USA Rangers did in the 80's and 90's,) as well as being responsible for their own raids and assaults (like what USA Rangers have been doing since the start of the War on Terror.)

The UNSCAF, on the other hand, would have a unit known as the "Air Parachute Commandos," whose primary role would be that of space VBSS (visit, board, search, and seizure.) Basically, Air Parachute Commandos (or just Commandos for short,) would be responsible for the recapture of ships or space stations that have been captured by hostiles, as well as the rescue of any hostages taken during that seizure.

Now, I know what you're thinking: rescuing hostages in space. This sounds more like a job for either a Navy or Marine unit. After all, their primary AO is in space, right?

Well, I was thinking about that as I wrote this story, and it suddenly occurred to me where most modern day pirate attacks need to occur: it's got to be relatively near the coast because most modern day pirates usually don't have ships big enough to travel too far out to sea, yet far enough away that it would take time for law enforcement to respond to any sort of hijackings. It's also got to be relatively near a high traffic shipping lane because there's no point in burning expensive fuel if you can't find anyone to attack. Translate this into space terms, and where would this be? In my mind, high planetary orbit which, I believe, in canon, is generally the outer limits of what's consider UNSCAF responsibility. (Basically, the Air Force is responsible for the area of space that would be considered part of a planet's orbit, while the Navy is responsible for deep space operations.)

With that in mind, it just made sense to me that there would be a need for a unit who specializes in that sort of combat, and that it would be the responsibility of the Air Force to furbish that unit.

But then, what to call the unit? Well, because I like to draw from real life (because I guess I lack imagination,) I decided to look at some real world special operations air force units for inspiration, which turned out to be harder than I initially thought because, as it turns out, there aren't a whole lot of air force units responsible for direct action operations like this aside from one: the French Air Force's Commandos Parachutistes de l'air. Or in English: Air Parachute Commandos. With that in mind, coupled with my interest in adding a more "international flair" to the UNSC, that's what I figured I would go for. (On the other hand, the Pararescue and CCTs are based on the USAF units of the same name, but then again, the USAF isn't the only air force to have units like that with a similar name.)

Of course, the real question is why I bothered to go through all this crap when there's already a unit in canon that could do all this: ODSTs. Well, that's because I like writing about non-canon units because it gives me the liberty to make use of my own interpretation of things. In other words: it's sometimes a lot easier to write a story when you're making up all the rules as you go along. This is part of the reason why I consider this story to be "not canon-compliant," even though it doesn't quite contradict anything in canon.

Other Notes

Berets: The dark blue berets of the Air Parachute Commandos and the maroon for Pararescuemen are both true for their respective Services (French AF, USAF.) The pewter gray is not. In the USAF, CCTs wear scarlet berets, USAF Special Reconnaissance units wear pewter gray. Unfortunately for me, in my head canon, scarlet berets are a cross UNSC military branch thing reserved for military police (like how it is in the British Army, and most Commonwealth of Nations militaries.) With scarlet out, I had to improvise and pewter gray seemed to be the next best choice so… there we go.

Lastly, I wasn't sure how clear the names of the team were, as I had them use a lot of nicknames, so here's a roster of everyone on the team, their ranks, and the roles they played.

Silver Troop, No 15 Air Parachute Commando Squadron, No 111 Air Parachute Commando Wing, No 26 Special Operations Group

Captain Alan Dutch - Commander/Backup Comms

Senior Master Sergeant Tatenda Gurira - 2IC/Backup comms

Master Sergeant Joan "Rockstar" Jett - Pararescue

Technical Sergeant Izabella "Izzy" Trokán - Heavy Weapons/Backup Breacher

Technical Sergeant Dardan "Mahmoud" Pernaska - Combat Air Controller

Staff Sergeant Patrick "Crawfish" McCoy – Breacher*/Backup heavy weapons

Staff Sergeant Romero "Poncho" Chaves – Demolitions

Senior Airman Tenzing "Gurkha" Kunwar – Close quarters combat

*USAF enlist ranks are weird in the sense that everything is one grade lower than their counterparts. In other words, an AF staff sergeant is the same as a regular sergeant in the Army and Marine Corps, a technical sergeant is the same as a staff sergeant, a master sergeant is the same as a sergeant first class and gunnery sergeant, and so on.

**I figured one of the more interesting talents this unit could provide is the ability to hack open doors because I imagine, if you're in a space station or space ship, the last thing you really want to do is start blowing up doors willy-nilly like. And bringing AIs into the field where one stands serious risk of getting killed or capture probably isn't the best practice (unless you're a Spartan, of course.)