Well folks, here we are. The final chapter of I'm Alone.

It's been three years and there was a number of times in the joy and turmoil of writing this story I never thought I'd see the end. But we're here, together, at the end of the story. If it wasn't for your support, you enthusiasm, your feedback, and your critical thinking, I doubt I would have been able to finish this. Thank you simply isn't enough to convey how I feel about you all. Just know your companionship over the years means a great deal to me.

Now, before we get all sentimental, this is NOT the end of the story. Well, technically it is. This story. But the journey of the I'm Alone and her crew is by no means over, and they will return in I'm Alone: Exalt. I've taken the liberty to create a thread on my forum, Vox-Taps, detailing when you can expect I'm Alone: Exalt and other useful information. Just to say it here, you can expect I'm Alone: Exalt in January/February 2020. So, don't worry, the journey shall continue.

I also want to add that, seeing as this is the final chapter for this part of the story, I won't be able to respond to any comments you leave on it. As part of my future plans for I'm Alone, I'm establishing a special response thread on Vox-Taps. So any of your final comments you leave on this story will be responded to there. If you want to get to Vox-Taps quick, there's a link to Vox-Taps on my profile. But your previous comments you can find in the author's note as usual, as well as a few other words. Alright folks, let's stop beating around the bush, and let's read!

Chapter 50: In the Past

The Pelican landed a half a dozen kilometers away from the titanium mining operations. Pelicans, Hornets, and Falcons were common enough sights in the air around the Port, but the recon team agreed it was better not to draw any unnecessary attention. It came down in a clearing in the untouched forests at the foot of the snow-capped mountains. Evergreen trees were thick with needles and leaves. Like on the flatlands near the Port, the grass was short and yellow-green; a familiar sort of stubble like the fields of Earth as winter approached. Much of the forest floor was thick with brush and fallen branches. Being near the mountains, there were many rock formations, crags, and jagged embankments.

Its landing gear hardly touched the ground. The crew chief, Isha, raised the flat of his hand and motioned towards the open rear hatch.

"Go! Go! Go!" he yelled over the comm-link. Vivian was the second one out. Frost was in front of her, Carris behind, and Steele brought up the rear. Once they were out, they formed a diamond perimeter and scanned the tree line through their rifle sights. She swept her rifle back and forth in a semicircular fashion, making sure follow with her eyes. Her own quickened breathing was drowned out by the Pelican's engines.

"All clear. Safe flying, Triple Seven, over."

"Solid copy, Raider Red Seven. Stay warm out there. Triple Seven, out," came Jasper's reply.

"Tactical column," Frost ordered over the SQUADCOM. He took point, kept his rifle raised, and moved into the tree line. Vivian maintained an interval of about five feet and followed him into the woods.

Once they journeyed in about a hundred meters, they formed another diamond formation perimeter in a small depression near a boulder. Despite all the undergrowth and brush, it was not difficult to see deep into the woods. The Pelican departed by this time, leaving them in a cloak of silence. All Vivian could hear was her own breathing and the gentle patter of cold rain. After ensuring their location was secure, Frost put a finger to his earpiece.

"Raider Red Six, this is Raider Red Seven, over."

"Raider Red Seven this is Raider Red Six, send traffic, over," came De Vos's reply. As the executive officer of the stitched-together Raider group, she assumed operational authority for the recon team. General Amsterdam and Colonel Hayes were in control of the joint Army-Marine QRF.

"Raider Red Six, Raider Red Alpha is boots on the ground..."

Briefly glancing over her shoulder, Vivian looked at Carris. She was facing the clearing and was absolutely still. It was as if her armor seized up and was forbidding her from twitching. Not even her helmet conveyed the slightest movement. Looking over at Steele, who had not painted his face but opted for a balaclava, his ocean blue eyes glanced back and forth. He was larger than life character, known to almost everyone on the I'm Alone. It was challenging not to hear him over the mess hall din or in some conversation. Female personnel had a way of bringing his name up. He seemed the least likely individual in the entire human race to enlist in the Marines. Somehow, he survived longer than most with the most lackluster attitude and zero discipline.

From the way his eyes maintained a wolfish gaze into the woods, she guessed the sniper had more to offer.

A hiss caught Steele's attention. He glanced at Frost, who motioned for him to come over. Steele crept over beside him, remaining crouched. Staying crouched, Steele crept over beside Frost. Whispering in hushed tones, they consulted the sniper's wrist-mounted GPS. Every so often they would point into the woods, observe their surroundings, and confer once more.

After a few moments, Frost looked up. "On me."

Vivian turned, and accompanied by Carris, knelt down by Frost. "We're going to be heading due east," he said, pointing past the boulder and deep into the woods. "That's the most direct route to an overwatch position identified by sat-images Delaney sent. We're going to move quietly. Steele's lead scout." He tapped the sniper's shoulder pauldron. "You're on point."

Steele nodded, stood, and began walking into the deeper part of the woods. Frost peeled away from the position, maintaining an interval of about ten feet. Vivian waited, then followed. Carris was behind her shortly.

The trek through the woods was eerie for Vivian. It was too similar to her home planet. Skopje was designated as a temperate planet, although its climate for most of the Solar year was characteristic of an alpine biome. Spring was usually short and rainy. Autumn and winter dragged on with a great deal of snow. Summer was not cold but it never reach a hot temperature. The best one could say of Skopje summers was they were dry.

Most teenagers loved going to the woods in the summer, despite Insurrectionist activity. Vivian's parents never really let her go. Before the UNSC crackdown six years ago, the Innie presence was known and they made the headlines every two weeks. But the local Army garrison protected the cities and curtailed larger incursions. The police also made a show of uprooting a rebel cell in Lionel City once in a while. Some of the personnel planetside who took anti-rebel activity more seriously scrutinized teenagers more than other demographics just because they enjoyed running out into the mountain woods. More than once when she was walking home from school, Vivian was stopped at special police division checkpoints. These were incorruptible personnel, mostly ex-military, who made a life out of fighting rebels. Bushmen, if she were to use Hayes' words.

At the checkpoints, they did just about everything next to a strip search. It always took far longer, and the lead investigator would ask so many questions one thought they were taking final exams. 'When's the last time you were in the woods?' 'Planning to go there anytime soon?' 'Why not? It's summertime, after all.' 'Are all your friends your age?' 'Do you have older friends?' 'Ever come across anyone or anything suspicious in the woods?' 'When you go to the woods, do you always go with friends?' 'What do you do up there with them?'

Even if one never ventured out into the woods, they would be sweating by the end. Detectives who asked the questions were always severe looking people; crew cuts, dark sunglasses, ballistic vests over black suits, and black gloves. Always with the black gloves. Sometimes they asked the same questions over again just to see if the answer was the same. Nine times out of ten, the people they dragged away for further questioning were not Insurrectionists. She was only a teenager and she could have told them that.

Vivian despised them; after a long day at school she just wanted to go home. Her animosity towards the special division grew more intense after that night. More than once, she felt rage roil in her gut and burn under her heart as the spooks barraged her with their myriad questions. But she knew then if she gave in, slammed somebody in the chest with her book-bag or cracked a detective on the chin, she would have been brought in. Those detectives were wired tight, more so because of the sticks up their asses; all they needed was the slightest provocation.

Why then, she wondered, had she not been able to reign in her anger when confronted with Frost? Was it because the name she heard echoing in the shadows of the smoke-filled scene finally had a face? Gazing at the back of Frost's helmeted head, moving back and forth slightly as he observed the environment, she realized it wasn't just that.

She enlisted in the UNSC Navy as soon as she could, if just to get away from her past. The nightmares followed all the same, but without the same frequency. Maybe it was the training she sustained for those four long years at the academy. No matter how much she disagreed with the higher echelon, those instructors molded her into a Navy officer. They gave her the motivation, aggression, and ruthlessness that drove thousands of famous military men and women into the history books.

Perhaps it was more base than that, more of a gang mentality than the lineage of conquerors. The UNSC put a gun in her hand and the know-how to use it. She would be damned before anyone could tarnish the cherished memories of stricken companions. Yet, she failed to pull the trigger every time.

Revenge, unadulterated revenge, did not seem to cover it anymore. The words they shared in the holographic map chamber dissipated such a fantasy. The strength to muster that kind of hatred seemed to be petering out. It was like that chamber; when the map was active, it filled the room with light. As soon as the map blinked away, utter darkness. There was no more fire in her chest, even when the man was right in front of her.

She recalled their shouting match when they journeyed up to surface after the raid. In some twisted way, it was almost funny. One, final argument seemed to snuff out the anger. Maybe it was because all was laid bare not just before other faces, but herself. It was time to grow up, time to be a captain, and forget the grudges of youth.

There was pressure under her boot. A twig snapped. In the silence of the woods, it sounded like the distant crack of a rifle report.

Vivian only hesitated for a moment. Still walking forward very slowly and taking deliberate steps, Frost turned halfway around. The whites of eyes were all the more stark by the dark forest facial paint. Holding his rifle by grip, he raised his left forefinger to his lips. Then, he made a V-sign with his index finger and the stub of his middle finger, pointed at his eyes, then reversed them towards the ground. Vivian nodded quickly. Frost took his rifle back in both hands and looked forward once more.

Every single movement he made was calculated, as if he were moving in slow motion. Like a statue that attained sentience, taking its first, rigid steps, he walked with measurement.

Vivian was sure if she sank to her knees with a ruler, the distance between each of his footfalls would be the same.

Looking over her shoulder once more, she looked at Carris. For a soldier clad head-to-toe in armor akin to that of a fighting vehicle, she moved swiftly and softly. One thought to hear servos whirring and gears grinding; how else could such laborious armor move? But there was a complete absence of sound, even as her armored feet sank into the earth. Assumption may have led to the belief of a mute-system installed in the suit, but Vivian chalked it up to years of experience instead.

Ahead, Steele moved through the woods with an aloof air about him. While he was not skipping or plucking flowers, he certainly did not have the razor's-edge discipline Frost, Carris, and she herself were trying to maintain. Still, the sniper kept his weapon pointed forward and his shoulders kept a semi-soldierly hunch to them. It was enough, she supposed.

Covering six kilometers at their pace took some time. It was afternoon by the time they reached the woods overlooking the mine. The sky remained overcast and the rainfall was still steady.

The overwatch position was located within the treeline at the crest of the was thick among the evergreen trees and the embankments were uneven, creating natural depressions and rises. Fallen branches, large and small, littered the ground here and there were many leaves.

As they approached the slope, Steele held up his arm at a right angle and made a fist. The entire team halted. Then he extended and flattened his arm to the side, crouching as he did. Vivian and the others copied his movements. Finally, Steele lowered himself to a prone position and slithered forward. Vivian got down and crawled forward after Frost went ahead of her. Carris remained crouched in the rear.

Along with the two Marines, they formed a small line and pressed themselves low to the ground. Frost took out a pair of binoculars while Steele squinted down his sniper rifle's scope. Vivian also brought her own pair of field glasses and gazed down at the mine.

Trees still populated the slope, but grew more sparse further down. It led directly into one of the mining yards. This particular yard was wide and blasted, characterized by tan soil that was tramped down by heavy trucks. Huge mounds of soil were in the northeastern corner. Huge excavating equipment was everywhere, from cranes to grinders to drills. Directly across from the slope, the entrance to the mine proper was constructed into the side of a large, rocky hill. A series of prefabricated structures were near the entrance. Workers, covered in dirt and soot, filed in and out of the mine shaft. Foremen shouted orders or conferred in groups, waving around data pads. Trucks were filled with excess soil or minerals drawn up from the shaft. A vertical shaft adjacent to the entrance served as an elevator. Every so often, the large pad would rise with carts packed with minerals. These were then placed on rails that ran parallel to the uphill road leading to the yard. A counter-weight system allowed full minecarts to trundle down the hill, pulling empty cards back up.

It was excessively noisy and the organized chaos of it all reminded Vivian of an army camp.

With a few sharp hand signals, Frost split the team into pairs. Vivian joined him on the left flank, sliding into a depression to the right of a large tree. Carris and Steele positioned themselves on the right, under an overhanging embankment. As soon as both positions were evaluated, the team began to entrench themselves.

Keeping low to the ground and slithering like snakes, they collected branches and leaves. Branches were placed around the edges of their areas, providing extra cover. Leaves were scattered over everything for added camouflage. Setting down her rucksack, Vivian pulled out a sheet of netting that was covered with the same material used for ghillie suits. She put over herself, drew her binoculars, and began monitoring the site. The others dug in and covered themselves with similar material.

Vivian laying on her stomach against the side of the embankment, balancing her elbows on the ground, and resting her chin on the lip. There was no change in activity among the throngs of miners below.

Frost clambered under the same camo netting with her. He placed his binoculars on the edge of the depression.

"Raider Red Six, this is Raider Red Seven, over," he whispered into his headset. He was to Vivian's left and his shoulder was right against her own.

"Raider Red Seven, this is Raider Red Six, send traffic, over."

"Raider Red Alpha has reached the overwatch position, over."

"Report any suspicious activity, over."

"Raider Red Six, Raider Red Seven...interrogative, describe suspicious activity, over."

"Raider Red Seven, Raider Red Six: spent too much time killing rebels instead of observing them, over?"

Vivian glanced at Frost. His expression became ashen and his gray eyes were like stones.

"Just working out the kinks, Red Six, over," he said, his voice lacking emotion.

"Keep your eyes open for any miners wearing pistols or gathering in locations they shouldn't be. How copy, over?"

"Solid copy, Raider Red Six. Raider Red Seven out."

So began the age-old and time-honored military practice of reconnaissance. A few poor souls detached from the main force, exposed to the elements, watching and waiting for the enemy's slightest movement. For all the satellites, spacecraft, and drones, there was nothing more reliable than a few good pairs of eyes.

As the wind picked up and the rain began to pour, Vivian was beginning to miss the I'm Alone. Being aboard such a remarkable spacecraft made one forget the environment and the elements. One did not feel cold while in that grand ship, nor did they become overheated. Rain, snow, sleet, wind, heat, humidity; nothing could pierce the I'm Alone's titanium armor plating. The body was only shocked by the forces of nature when they stepped outside the ship. Out here, she felt open, exposed, and vulnerable. Without the thick armor or the tremendous firepower, she was not a naval officer. Her feeling was more of a fly, easily brushed or swatted away. How she longed to be back on the I'm Alone. At least they prepared with heavier BDU's and thermal layers; it would all enough to keep from freezing under the downpour.

Even after taking off the rucksack and excess gear, Vivian felt burdened by the equipment. The scabbard of the combat knife was digging into her thigh. Her BDU trousers were so baggy she had to make her belt extra taught to keep them from sliding down. Both boots were binding on her feet so badly she had to loosen the laces. Having tucked her pant legs into her boots, the trapped heat was causing her feet to sweat. A slight damp texture was beginning to grip her socks, and she was glad she brought a spare. The kneepads she wore were tied so tightly she loosen them to have full range of motion. Just to make it all the more bothersome, the helmet she wore was one size too large and kept sliding forward or backwards. No amount of adjustment was keeping it in place.

Sliding down from the lip of the depression, still under the wet netting, she tugged at the straps. A moment later, Frost slid down beside her. Gently pushing her hands away, he made a few calculated tugs, shifted the strap, loosened one side, and made it taught again. Just then, the helmet sat comfortably atop her head.

Vivian was face to face with Frost, so close she could feel his breath washing over her face. Before she could offer any kind of thanks, he resumed his position. Right then, Vivian felt utterly useless. She could command a fleet of ships, conduct lightning raids against her enemies, navigate among the stars, and organize a ship filled with thousands of personnel. But, she could not even manage the straps of her helmet correctly. Pathetic, she thought.

The day dragged on and on. Shifts changed and new groups of miners arrived by the truckload. Clean and prepared, they hefted tools over their shoulders and marched towards the mine shaft. Coming out of the dark hole was the relieved shift, covered with gray rock dust. Unlike their counterparts, their heads hung low, their feet shuffled, and they could barely grasp their tools.

Observing the shift change through his binoculars, Frost made a quiet but ultimately surprised sound.

"Guess there's worse jobs than soldiering," he grunted.

Day gave way to night; rain gave way to snow. At first, the rain steadily abated. What was sheets dwindled to a lackadaisical scatter of raindrops. Then, it began to mist, leaving the air thick with moisture. After a short time, a snowflake fell. Then another, and another, and another. Soon, pure white snow drifted down over the landscape.

It as a moonless night. With so many black snow-clouds overhead, even the stars were hidden.

More shifts came and went. Big trucks collected the contents drawn from the mine. As night continued to drag on, the majority of the workmen left. A skeleton crew was left behind to monitor the mining grounds. These workers simply patrolled the immediate area and stayed close to the mine shaft. None were armed.

Lowering her binoculars and disengaging the night vision function, Vivian pressed her forehead against the cool, damp earth.

She felt Frost tap her shoulder with the back of his hand. "Do you want to sleep?"

As tired as she was, sleep was an impossibility. So she shook her head. "Steele, you still awake over there?"

"This show is pretty boring," came the reply, "but I'm still up."

"You and Carris get some shuteye. We'll take the first watch. We'll wake you in two hours."

"Copy that, bruv.

Vivian felt Frost turn towards her again.

"We should get out of the hole," Frost said in a low tone, "it's wet and water collected at the bottom."

Vivian complied. Taking her netting with her, she clambered out. Just then she realized she had stayed in that crouched position for hours, and she cramped up. Grunting, she worked out the tension as best she could.

She tried to find a spot with minimal snow coverage. The best spots available were directly under trees. Instead of sitting under the one at the left end of their position, she went to another tree behind it. It was less than two feet away but was situated on an embankment slightly above. Sitting against the trunk, she covered her upper body with the netting, leaving a space so she could continue to raise her binoculars.

Frost remained in the depression. He was the only one who brought an entrenchment tool and proceeded to dig a hole at the bottom of the depression. Vivian remembered during the brief infantry school period of her officer training that it was wise to dig a hole at the bottom of a foxhole or prepared position. If it rains, the water would drain into the whole and ensure the occupants weren't in water up to their knees. She wished she or Frost remembered that earlier, although Frost probably wanted to get out of the hole as much as she did.

After he finished, he set the tool aside and sat against the tree at the end of the depression. He was just a bit below her with his back turned. Unlike her, he draped his netting over his lower body like a blanket.

The wind was picking up. It was getting colder and the snow was falling with slightly more intensity.

Vivian did her best to observe the mine but she kept lowering her binoculars to gaze at Frost. He was so still she could have mistaken him for a corpse.

He must have sensed her staring into the back of his skull. "You can sleep if you want. I won't tonight."

"I'm fine," Vivian answered after a moment.

"You sure? I don't mind keeping watching for the both of us. You'll need your strength."

Vivian did not respond. She could not respond. It was otherworldly to speak with this man, the focus of her anger, the slayer of her friends. There he was, sitting like a nature lover taking a rest. He seemed so mysteriously unconcerned with the world around him now. Gone was his severe posture and tone of voice. Gone was his proud Marine stature or his mythical presence among his fellow soldiers. Just the legend, the legend he left on Skopje.

Right there. He was right there. Right there, right there, right there. He was right there. In front of her, back turned, completely unaware.

Pull out your pistol, Vivian, came the voices. Take it out, pressed it to the back of his skull, and blow his brains out. Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. Right here. Right now. He was right there. Jack the Ripper. 'You're pretty good.' Frost. Kill him. Do it. Shoot him. Revenge would be hers. Five dead girls, five corpses, joined by one more. Wherever we are, send him to us. Kill him, give him to us, and revenge will be our's. Our's and your's! Give him to us! Kill him! Right here, right now, he was right there. Shoot him, kill him, cut his throat! Take him! Give him to us! Kill him!

A gust of wind buffeted Vivian. She dropped her binoculars and covered her ears. After a moment, she curled both hands into fists and pounded on her forehead. When she stopped, her head hurt tremendously and she had to breathe. Glancing at Frost, she saw he had not moved. Perhaps the wind drowned her out and he did not here. More than likely, he knew. Did he care?

Coward! Coward! Coward! Coward! Coward! Five voices screamed in her skull. Vivian shut her eyes, breathed, and covered her ears. It was like being suffocated. No, it was like her lungs were ripped from her chest and she had no possible way to breathe. Stop! She wanted to claw her temples and tear off her ears. Anything to make them stop. Stop! The voices were eating her alive from the inside out. Their fingers were digging into her heart and her brain. Stop!

Suddenly, there was silence. Vivian blinked. Her head still felt very sore. But there were no more voices. Breathing easily, she leaned her head back against the tree. It was then she noticed Frost was singing quietly to himself:

"Let's get lost...lost in each other's arms...

Let's get lost...let them send out alarms..."

Vivian listened for a short time.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Frank Sinatra," came the reply.

"Never heard of him."

"Not surprised," Frost said. "My dad was a professor of 20th Century music. Covered everything from film musicals and top hits to the most underrated songs. He filled the house with that sort of stuff. I've been singing to it since I was a kid."

Vivian heard Frost sing before. More than once, she caught him singing in the ship's mess hall. Most of the personnel would laugh and clap. She found him and the songs he sang rather ridiculous. Certainly, many of the other crewmen did too but enjoyed it all the same. Perhaps it wasn't so much the songs he sang but rather who. Marines loved him and at the very least, the Naval and Air Force personnel respected him. He was the only one standing up and making a great big fool of himself. All the songs he sang were ancient to many of the crew members and whatever impact they were supposed was lost. But it didn't matter.

Leaning her head back, Vivian looked up at the swaying treetops. Snowflakes peppered her cheeks.

"Sounds like a decent life. Why'd you leave it behind?"

"I didn't fit in that life. I felt lost, adrift. Like I was floating through my days. It's a tough feeling to deal with as a kid. I never felt more alone when I was sitting with my family or going to school or spending time with my friends. No matter what I did, I just felt out of place. Just, completely, utterly, entirely, lost. When the notice came, looking for younger citizens to enlist for the Youth Program, I leaped at the opportunity. I wanted to get away and figure out who I was."

"Have you?" Vivian asked. Frost did not respond. Summoning some courage, Vivian asked, "How did that lonely kid change? How did he become Jack the Ripper?"

There was a very long silence.

"One day when you put a bullet in a man's head, I'll tell you."

Vivian scoffed and shook her head.

"You know, I'm not even angry anymore. I don't even know how I feel. All I know is this, 'one day,' nonsense is rather boring."

"So I'm boring you?"

"Did it ever once occur to you that maybe everything we've been through could have been avoided if you just told me about Skopje? Just what happened there?"

"Skopje. All you ever wanted to know about is Skopje." She saw Frost shake his head. "It was a long time ago and I'm trying to move on from that. From who I was then."

"Adley is still alive as far as I know. That shows something."

"I almost killed him. I had him on his knees. Had my pistol against his skull. I was going to do it."

Vivian's blood ran a little cold.

"Like the knife you had against my friend's throat."

Frost turned them. He glared over his shoulder.

"We had orders to take no prisoners. But when I saw her there, wounded, choking on blood, I couldn't do it. I was going for my med kit when she tried to stab me. I went for my knife."

Vivian's eyes widened a little, but the shock dwindled just as quickly. In a way, she could not be surprised anymore. Roseanne was dead and there was no bringing her back.

"Why didn't you kill Adley, then?"

"He talked to me. And Jasmine helped me see things more clearly. She helped me understand." Frost sighed. "Jack the Ripper...it's just a name. I've been torn up about what happened on Skopje for so long. Sometimes, I hate myself. I was some kind of monster. Other times, I think I'm truly good and what I did there was righteous. I teeter back and forth if I think about it, and I start to feel crazy."

Frost leaned his head back against the trunk. "The only way I can truly find a little peace is if I don't think about it. But you, other people, all they ever talk about is Skopje. I hear the name and it sets me off. I get this weird tick, something snaps inside. I begin to lose control."

For a time, he stopped there. Vivian tried to imagine his face. Was he grim? Was his face locked in some hardened expression? Cold? Or was he crying? His voice seemed fragile enough for it. Maybe his lip was quivering. She did not know.

Eventually, he drew a breath. "If there's one thing Skopje taught me, it's that humans are the only savage things in this life. Animals kill each other, sure, but they do that when they need to eat. The Covenant kill us, but it's because of their way of thinking, their doctrine, their codes. If you think about it, they're like crusaders. Humans don't kill because of code, and they don't kill each other to eat. When you get past all the speeches and tradition, it's killing for the sake of killing. That's savagery."

He paused for a time. She could see that he was beginning to wring his hands together. Were there voices in his head, too? Was some invisible, cosmic force tearing at him, begging him, demanding that he go down into the mine and kill anyone who looked like a rebel?

She heard him draw a very shaky breath. "When I killed your friends, it was the most terrifying moment of my entire life."

"Why?"

Six years ago...

As the cacophony of gunfire continued outside, Frost thudded up the stairs. He was gripping his assault rifle tightly. Behind him was Teo, Steele, and the rest of the platoon. Everybody was moving very fast and hearing their booted feet on the stairs made the whole building shake. It was like listening to some kind of drum-roll or thunderstorm. Every so often, a team would break away, smash in a door, and kill everyone inside. Once the shooting ceased, there would be multiple cries of, 'Clear!'

Eventually, Frost came to the top of the stairs. There were only two doors in the short corridor. When they opened the one on the right, it was an empty closet. When he turned and gave an 'all clear' hand signal, Teo motioned for him to come over.

"Frost, you and Steele clear that room," he whispered. "If there's too many, duck back out and we'll frag it."

"Yes, sergeant," Frost whispered. Steele swapped his sniper rifle for Teo's assault rifle. Frost stacked on the right side of the door, Steele on the left. It was deathly quiet save for the shooting outside.

Frost made a series of signals with his hands: he would enter first and assault into the interior. Steele would cover him from the doorway. Understanding the sequence, Steele made an 'okay' gesture.

Taking a few deep breaths, Frost stepped back and kicked the door open. In the same instant, he flicked the underbarrel flashlight attachment on. The door swung to the side and a young teenage girl was against the opposite wall. There was a pistol in her hand.

Frost's first instinct was the shoot, but instead he heard his own voice, as if standing beside himself. "Freeze! Drop the weapon!"

The girl was illuminated in the stark white light. She looked absolutely terrified. Her eyes were as wide as they could be, her hair was loose around her face, and her teeth were clenched so hard he was sure they would crack.

Frost took another threatening step. "Drop the weapon!" The girl was shaking like a leaf. Then, she became absolutely still. Her eyes narrowed on him. Frost's heart stopped and his breathing hitched.

The girl's snapped her arm and the pistol was on him. He fired. The burst of rifle fire hit center mass. Blood enveloped her entire torso, and she fell. Frost turned into the room and saw the corpse of the man Steele sniped, and another armed girl. She looked just as scared but held up her free hand. The pistol seemed to be falling from her grasp. Frost fired and the bullets tore into her midsection. Immediately, she cried and grabbed her abdomen. Blood and guts began to leak through her fingers. She fell forward.

Turning, he saw three other girls. All were armed.

"Murderer!" one hollered at him. Frost held his rifle at hip level and began firing. He swept it across the room. Al three of the girls were riddled. In the muzzle flashes and his flashlight, he saw their faces. Wooden cupboards were blown apart, glass shattered, and the falling bodies upended furniture. When he finished firing, it was silent.

Frost lowered his rifle and turned off the flashlight attachment. His heart resumed beating and he exhaled heavily.

"Ah, Jesus Christ...Jesus Christ..."

Suddenly, he heard someone moan. Frost nearly jumped out of his skin. After a moment, he walked over to the source and turned on the flashlight. One of the girls was still alive. A number of sucking bullet wounds covered her body. It looked as though she was dipped in blood.

Colonel Hayes' orders before jump-off echoed in his head. 'Take no prisoners. They're all hostile.' Frost stared at this young, writhing girl. She couldn't have been that much older than him. She could barely move and the sounds she made were terribly pathetic. It was like staring at a helpless animal.

He detached the flashlight from the underbarrel rail, and shoulders his rifle. Crouching down, he reached for his medical kit.

Just then, she lurched. Her arm flailed out. He saw the pistol in the light. His hand flew out, snatched her wrist, and the pistol fired. The bullet flew into the ceiling. The report made his ears ring and he felt deafened a little on that side.

The girl groaned as Frost squeezed her wrist, ensuring she would not be able to fire again. It fell from her grasp a moment later. He let go of her wrist and switched the flashlight to that hand. "Almost got me," he breathed, terrified. Then, he managed a smile, "you're pretty good."

"Murderer," the girl croaked. In the light, he watched a kitchen knife fly towards him. Frost caught her wrist before the tip slid into his throat. Feebly, she tried to force it forward but he held her back. Letting go of the flashlight, he reached into the scabbard attached to his boot, grabbed his combat knife, and jammed it into her throat. The flashlight spun around as he sank it into her flesh right up to the hilt. When the flashlight stopped spinning, he saw the girl's face clearly. She gurgled, blood came out of her mouth, her eyes rolled back into her head, and then she died. Her entire body went limp.

Frost slowly drew the knife out of her neck. Breathing heavily, picked up the flashlight. He slung his assault rifle from his shoulder, reattached the flashlight to the underbarrel rail, and gripped it tightly with one hand. Smoke was still rising from the barrel. The entire apartment reeked of powder and torn flesh.

"How many?" Steele asked as he came in.

"Five. Five girls with pistols," Frost answered. "Fuck, the last one nearly cut my throat. I had to kill her with my, my uh..." He held the knife up for a moment. It was coated in blood, and he could feel it trickling down the blade and onto his gloved hand. There was just so much on it, like it was painted. A wave of nausea washed over him.

"Sure. What did ya expect from this lot? How'd you get that close anyways?" Steele asked. Frost glanced at the girl he had stabbed. He felt very sick and scared then.

"I was, I was trying to...I was..."

"Easy, easy. Never mind."

Steele eased his distress by putting an arm around him. When he walked away, he began walking around, shining the flashlight on the bodies, debris, and overturned furniture. Frost finally sheathed his knife. Following the light, Frost could see the terrified expression on the girls' faces, the cheeks contorted in pain, and the emptiness of their eyes.

As much as he wanted to tear his gaze away from them, he could not. There was something strangely alluring about the corpses. There was nothing there. Whatever made them who they were, whoever they were, was gone. They did not even look like humans anymore. Death had caused them to become strangely unlike him. He was alive. They were dead. He was alive. They were dead. He was alive. They were dead.

In the muzzle flashes, he saw the bullets smash into their bodies. He saw blood splatter their clothing and the floor. Very clearly, he saw the agony on their faces as they were riddled. It made him sick, yet his adrenaline pumped and his body was tense with excitement.

"Christ, man. Ya going to cut them up now?" Steele asked in an amused tone. Frost looked over at him. In the glare of the light, he could see the young sniper smiling.

"What the hell does that mean?" Frost asked, agitated.

"You heard me!" Steele said, unaffected bt Frost's terse voice. "You gonna slice and dice them up and send a kidney to the local inspector?"

Steele made himself laugh very hard. Frost shook his head.

"If that's a joke I'm not following it, and that's pretty sick," he said.

"Aw come on, don't you study history? Ain't ya heard of Jack the Ripper? Killed five girls in London all the way back in the Nineteenth Century. Never got caught either. Ain't that somethin'?"

Frost knew who he was talking about. It clicked then. Much was lost in the passing millennia, but none could forget such a famous name.

"Yeah," Frost said flatly. He did not want to think about him just yet. Steele came over and patted him on the shoulder.

"Well, I think I just met me a new Jack the Ripper."

Frost scoffed, but his lips twitched into a slight smile.

"I'm not gonna butcher their bodies if you think you'll get a laugh out of it."

"Not even a kidney, Frost?" Steele teased. He was so unconcerned with the bodies. Frost gave the corpses a passing glance. It was time to link up with the rest of the regiment. There was still shooting outside. Looking out the window, he could see muzzle flashes in the windows of the other buildings. Outside the ramshackle development, he could see long lines of darting shadows. More Marines were moving in.

"Come on, let's move out." They began heading for the door.

"Time to disappear into a dark alley now, eh?" Steele was not letting up.

"Quiet," Frost hissed. This just made Steele laugh even more.

"We should get you a top hat."

"Stop it."

"Maybe a gentleman's cape or cloak from those days!"

"Enough, man."

"Ooh, why don't we find some red marker-pens and write a new letter to the inspector?"

"Shut up!"

Frost whirled around and shoved Steele in the chest. The former cussed him out as they left the room, while the latter just laughed.

Angry, sickened, and charged from the adrenaline, Frost was ready to wipe Steele's amused smile from his face with his fist. But when they approached the other Marines he could not be cross anymore. Teo came up to them.

"How many?" was all he asked. Steele answered before him.

"Five KIA."

"Wow, five already?" someone in back echoed.

"Hell yeah," Steele offered, "he's Jack the Ripper, boys."

"That's badass," somebody else said. "Good on ya, Jack."

"Yeah, good work, Jack," Teo congratulated, tapping him on the shoulder. Frost just nodded and smiled. He began walking through the crowd of Marines who stepped to either side of the corridor and stairwell. As he walked between the two lines, everyone reached out and slapped him on the back, shoulder, or on his helmet. They bumped their fists into his arms and chests. They cheered and whistled and laughed. Frost looked at each of their camouflaged faces and they were all grinning.

"Five all by yourself? Awesome dude."

"You were wonderful, Jack."

"Five's just the start, right Jack?"

"Atta boy, Jack."

"That'll teach the Rebs, Jack."

"You're an ice-cold killer, baby."

"Give'em hell, Jacky."

"You were great, Jack."

"Helluva job, Jack."

"There he is, Jack the Ripper!"

"Yeah, Jack the Ripper."

"Jack the Ripper!"

Frost breathed calmly. It was all he could do to keep from breaking apart. When he opened his eyes, he glanced over his shoulder at Vivian. She was gazing intensely at him.

"Killing human beings is horrifying, Vivian. But what was all the more terrifying was being congratulated for it. All my friends were so happy for it. On the entire voyage to Skopje, we talked about how we didn't want to kill people. Insurrectionist or not, we didn't want to do it. We wanted to fight the Covenant, and they sent us there to kill rebels. And all of a sudden, I saw the veneer of our morality, our civilized selves, peel away. We're Marines, we kill our enemies, and we feel good about it."

Frost took off his helmet. The wind tousled his brown hair and nipped at his scalp. He needed to feel the cold. "After I killed another person, it felt really good. They congratulated me again. I felt at home, like I belonged in the Marines. Everything just made sense and I didn't have that lonely, adrift feeling anymore. The more people I killed, the more I felt like I had a purpose and a place in this life."

"That was the end of humanity you talked about a long time ago," Vivian said.

"Yes, but that was only part of it."

He looked back at her. "It was a joint Army-Marine op. A forward element of the Army task force was ambushed, cut off, and forced to surrender. The rebels tortured and killed all the men. They castrated them and let them bleed to death on a hill. The women they raped and left there in the snow. I was the first one to find them. Whatever civilized part of me was left disappeared, then."

He didn't need to explain any further. That was all Vivian needed to know. The look in her eyes said it all. Terror, anger, and understanding. She did not know it, but she could understand it. She didn't need to know how he hunted and stalked and killed and butchered. Vivian could put together the fragments of stories and rumors for herself.

Frost put his helmet back on and fastened the straps. "I like to think I'm good. But I don't think I am. Just because you have a good reason to kill doesn't mean you ought to. I killed, and no matter how evil those people were, I still have guilt. I have regrets. I feel blood on my hands. But just as I come face to face with myself, I think of Skopje and how everyone was so proud of me. I felt that belonging when I killed people, and when I'm not, I feel alone and adrift. I don't know what's scarier, Vivian; killing people or being lost."

He turned back around. "Vivian, I-"

"We have activity," Steele said suddenly.

Vivian removed her netting and slid back into the depression. As she did, all the snow sticking to her uniform fell away. Throwing the netting back over herself, she raised her binoculars. Frost was right beside her.

Down in the mining grounds below, a civilian buggy. They were common enough sites among the farmsteads. One man was driving, another was in the passenger seat. Four more were sitting on the flatbed. They parked in the center of the yard and left the headlights on. All six gathered in the white beams of light.

"Weapons confirmed," Caris said,her voice emotionless.

"Check, weapons confirmed," Steele grunted, "All six are sporting sidearms. Looks like the ones pilfered from the warehouse. Should we call it in?"

"Wait one," Frost said over the SQUADCOM. Vivian watched as all the patrolling workers congregated in front of the buggy. She counted them up: there was fifteen in total, including the new arrivals. Fourteen were men. One of the individuals who arrived on the buggy was a woman who couldn't have been a day over twenty-five. As she was the only woman, Vivian focused on her for a moment. She had long black hair that came down to her shoulders and very pale skin.

The six new arrivals stood in a line across from the nine watchmen. They seemed to be talking.

Vivian felt Frost moved his arm so he could click his earpiece. "Raider Red Six, this is Raider Red Seven, over."

"Raider Red Seven, Raider Red Six. Send traffic, over," came De Vos's voice.

"We have eyes on fifteen foot mobiles in the mining complex. Six just arrived by buggy and are armed with the missing pistols. Please advise, over."

"Solid copy Raider Red Seven. Hold your position, over."

Vivian was watching the group through his binoculars. A few of the men seemed to be angry. Some began to point. Others were trying to calm them down. Suddenly, a few of the watchmen drew sidearms concealed in their jackets. Instantly, the new arrivals raised their own pistols. All those who had yet to draw pistols did so.

"Wild West down there!" Steele said urgently.

"Raider Red Seven, all fifteen foot mobiles are confirmed armed. I repeat, all fifteen are armed. Please advise, over," Frost relayed quickly.

"Raider Red Six, maintain your position. The QRF will be wheels-up in the air in less than two-mikes."

Vivian watched as the sole woman among the armed miners step in between the two lines. She threw her pistol down into the frozen earth. Turning back and forth, she shouted at both groups. Her presence was so commanding and authoritative. The wind whipped her black hair. It billowed like a lion's mane.

Some of the men began to lower their weapons. Others remained defensive. The woman turned around to face the party she arrived with. She spoke to them for a few moments. All but two lowered their pistols. At the same time, several in the opposite group holstered their weapons. When she motioned for one of her men to put down his pistol, he began to. Then, he raised it right to her forehead.

"What the fuck?" Steele murmured over the SQUADCOM. "What the fuck is this? Nate-"

"Hang tight, Lou," Frost ordered.

"He's going to fucking shoot her. We just gonna let this happen?"

"Lou, just hang on. Just hang on, okay?"

"Permission to engage," Steele asked.

"Denied. Hold your fire."

"I'm not fucking watching this, Nate."

"We have our orders."

"She might have intel on this whole thing. We should designate her as a VIP and do something!"

"Lou, you need to shut the fuck up and wait for further orders."

"Fuck this," Steele said. A brief crackle followed by silence indicated he terminated his commlink.

Vivian and Frost both threw off their netting covers and look to the right. Steele threw down his sniper rifle and grabbed his DMR. He began dumping some of his gear.

"Hold your position, that is a direct order!" Frost snarled.

"Do not go down there!" Vivian added.

Putting the binoculars back up to her eyes, Vivian looked down at the two parties to see if they heard them over the wind. Just as she did, she watched the men holding the pistol shoot the woman through the head. It was just a flash and her body dropped to the ground immediately. A moment later, the pop of the report carried over the howling wind.

"Raider Red Six, shots fired, repeat, shots fire, over," Frost said hastily.

"Raider Red Seven, interrogative: have you been fired upon, over?"

"Raider Red Six, negative, negative! One of the foot mobiles just shot one of the others and...Steele where the fuck are you going!?"

Vivian looked up to see Steele running down the slope with his DMR. Swearing, Frost jumped out of the depression with his assault rifle and went after. Vivian followed him. As she got out, she noticed Carris preparing to go to.

"Carris, take up his sniper rifle and maintain overwatch."

"Ma'am-"

"That's an order," Vivian snapped. Carris turned around, picked up the rifle, and crouched. Vivian turned. Steele was already at the bottom of the slope. Frost was halfway down and still bounding.

Dumping the majority of her excess gear, Vivian tore down the slope. She nearly tripped twice but kept her balance. By the time she got close to the bottom, she could hear shouting.

"Drop those fucking weapons now!" Steele roared. She looked around, trying to spot him in the darkness. Although she could see the confused miners standing in the headlights of the buggy, she lost track of Frost and Steele. "Down! Put'em down! Put those fucking guns down now!"

"Drop them! Drop them! We have four barrels on you! Drop those guns at your feet and put your hands in the air!"

Ten immediately dropped their firearms. Four looked around into the darkness, trying to figure out where the voices were coming from.

Vivian was now close enough and raised her rifle.

"Put down your weapons now! If you do not comply, we'll fire a warning shot!"

Two more dropped their pistols and raised their hands. Two more, one of them the shooter, went back to back. "Put your weapons down!"

They refused. Vivian put a finger to her helmet piece. "Carris, send it."

A second later a bullet slammed into the tire of the buggy. It blew out and air hissed. Then came the rifle report.

The last two miners threw down their pistols and raised their arms.

"Move, move, move, move, move!" Frost ordered over the SQUADCOM. "Move in. Carris, keep tracking them."

The first man into the light was Frost, cutting across Vivian's field of fire. Meanwhile, Steele had rounded around the rear of the buggy. He stepped into the light from the opposite side.

"You, you lot right here, get over there! Move, move! Slowly, slowly!"

The arrivals carefully stepped over to the opposite party. "Line up! Line up!" Steele and Frost began manhandling the miners into a line. Vivian ran up and crouched beside the blown out tire of the buggy. She kept her weapon raised and trained on the miners.

"Put your hands behind you head!" Steele shouted in their faces. "Behind your head! Slowly! Don't look at my fucking face, put your hands behind your head!"

"Search them, search them!" Vivian ordered. "Search each one then put them on their knees, hands behind their heads."

"On it!" Steele shouted. Frost continued to cover him, standing next to the corpse of the woman. Vivian darted forward and went to the other side of the body.

"Did you check her?" Vivian asked.

"Not yet," Frost said, his voice tense.

"You got them?"

"Affirmative."

Vivian knelt and checked for a pulse. There was none, although she expected it. In that moment, she gazed at the young woman's face. She had hazel eyes but there devoid of any light. The hole in her forehead was so bloody it was nearly black, and it was streaming down. A great deal of the blood was in her hair and was pooling on the frozen ground. Some of her brains were leaking out of both nostrils. It was a terribly motley color of blue, gray, red, and pink. The exit wound was massive; the single round had blown out part of her head's backside. Bits of skull and brain tissue were scattered on the ground.

She held back the urge to vomit and got back up.
"Dead," was all Vivian said before taking her assault rifle back into her hands.

She watched as Steele continued down the row of men. Half of them were on their knees.

"Fuck, I knew we'd get caught..." one muttered. "...I knew it."

"Shut up. Don't tell'em anything."

"Fuck you. I don't want to go to jail."

"Keep quiet and you won't."

"We took this too far man. This wasn't worth the money."

"Shut up! Nobody squeals."

"I got a family man, I'm not gonna leave them out there alone!"

"Me too, I'm spilling."

"Everybody shut the fuck up!" Steele shouted as he patted down another. "Shut up, keep your hands behind your head. Don't look at our fucking faces, keep those fucking eyeballs on the ground."

Steele pushed the last man to his knees and stepped in front of them. He leveled his DMR but looked over his shoulder. Vivian followed his gaze; he was looking down at the scattered pistols on the ground.

"Keep your eyes on them," Vivian ordered. They did not have the time to collect the pistols. Ensuring they were subdued was more important. "Frost. Call it in."

When he didn't speak, she looked over at him. He was looking down at the woman's body. "Frost."

That got his attention. "Call it in."

"Copy. Raider Red Six, Raider Red Seven here. We've entered the complex and captured fourteen foot mobiles. How copy, over?"

"Raider Red Seven, your orders were to hold position. Why did you proceed into the complex? Over."

Frost looked at Steele, then at Vivian. She glared at him.

"We were forced to react, over."

"You better have a good explanation ready for General Amsterdam. Raider Red Seven, out."

Frost lowered his hand, but held his assault rifle with one hand. Steele piped up then.

"We need more light, we don't want any friendly-fire incidents when the QRF arrives." He pointed at one of the prisoners. "Where's the power source for the lights?"

"I'm not fucking tell you shit, pig," said the big man. Steele marched over and struck him with the butt of his DMR.

"Do not bash those fucking prisoners!" Vivian shouted. "You're way out of line, sergeant!"

"There's a master control panel in the foreman's office, second floor, " said one of the other captives. The office he referred to was near the mouth of the mine shaft, behind some of the other prefabricated buildings erected around it.

"I've got it," Vivian said.

"Be careful, there might be a joker around here we haven't spotted. Carris, keep an eye out."

"Copy that."

Vivian began jogging over towards the buildings. When she got closer, she slowed down and kept her rifle raised. She stopped and checked every corner with the flashlight attachment. When she checked the entire area, she proceeded to the foreman's office. Before she entered, she tried to look back towards Frost and Steele. Several other structures were blocking them from view. It made her uneasy.

"I'm at the foreman's office," she said over the SQUADCOM. "Going in now."

"Copy," came Steele's reply.

Vivian opened the door and stepped in with her rifle ready. It was empty. Several terminal stations were on the right and on the left side was a very long control panel. At the opposite end was a staircase. She hurried over, slowed, and went up. The second floor was empty. It looked identical to the first floor.

Going down the main control panel, she was able to find the switches governing the electricity system. Each switched was marked and her finger hovered over each one as she read.

"Shaft lights...tunnel lights...yard lights," Vivian murmured to herself. The third switch she flipped. Looking through the window, she watched as the freestanding light panels began to light up one by one.

Satisfied, she headed back downstairs. She stepped outside and the wind suddenly dissipated. It was so strange. Moments earlier it was blowing hard, but the moment her boot crunched into the frozen soil, it ended. The snow continued to fall gently. Vivian stopped just to take a breath.

There was a gunshot. A moment later, there was a burst of automatic fire, followed by a longer spray.

Vivian's began running. Bounding through the spaces between the buildings, she finally made it to the main yard. Bathed in light, she saw Frost standing over the fourteen dead prisoners. Steele was crouched over one, holding a pistol.

She charged over.

"Hey. Hey!" she hollered. Frost looked at her, blank-faced. Steele remained crouched but looked up too. "What happened? What the fuck happened!?"

She looked at the bodies. Most had fallen where they knelt before. A few feet away were the others, all shot in the back. Each one was riddled with multiple bullets.

Vivian glared at Frost. Smoke slowly rose from his assault rifle's barrel. Vivian took it from his hands, ejected the magazine, and threw the rifle on the ground. "Did you kill those prisoners!?" She shouted, shoving him hard in the chest. "Why? Why? Why'd you do it!"

She whirled around. Steele was still crouched, eyes wide with indignation. "And what are you doing? Are you planting that weapon? Are you planting that goddamn weapon?" She looked at the pistols, which were all moved from their original spots.

Steele dropped the pistol and stood up. He was angry.

"Guess you haven't changed, huh captain? These fucking guys went for their pistols! They tried to jump us! They almost had me but Frost took care of them."

"Bullshit."

"Oh, bullshit?"

"Bullshit! You're covering for him!"

"Why the fuck would I lie about this? There were only two of us, they tried to kill us, and we defended ourselves! What more do you want?"

"I don't believe a goddamn word!"

"I'm telling you," Steele said, "they tried to rush us. We reacted! Frost, fucking tell her man!"

Vivian looked at Frost. His expression was still blank. Eventually, he shook his head.

"We reacted. Those fools tried to rush us and we had to shoot them. Poor fools..."

"See? We don't hose prisoners."

"You're lying. You're both lying."

Before the argument could continue, a drone filled the air. Looking to the rear, they saw a fleet of aircraft approach. Soon, two dozen Falcons and Pelicans were overhead. All touched down. Army troopers flooded from the Falcons while Marines poured from the Pelicans. Shouting filled the air as they secured the perimeter. General Amsterdam and Colonel Hayes appeared with their entourages.

"You have less than one minute to explain just what the fuck I'm looking at!" Amsterdam hollered as she marched up.

"Ma'am, these prisoners tried to jump us and we were forced to open fire," Steele said.

"If that's the case, why do I see some of them shot in the back?" Vivian asked. She got in front of Steele. "Ma'am, this man," she motioned towards Frost, "has a history of executing prisoners. Just look at this! None of them are close to their pistols, some were shot while running, and this one was shot execution style."

General Amsterdam surveyed the scene. She looked at Colonel Hayes, who was staring at the bodies.

"Where were you?"

"I was over at that two story office building, turning on the lights for you."

"Is that true?" she asked Frost and Steele. The latter threw his arms up and looked at the ground. Frost grimaced.

"Yes, ma'am. That's true."

"So you didn't see it?" Amsterdam asked Vivian.

"No. But I heard it. One shot, followed by a short spray of firing, then a long one. I didn't hear any pistols shots."

"General, the Captain and Gunnery Sergeant Frost have a history-" Hayes began.

"I'll sort this out for myself, thank you Colonel," Amsterdam said. "Until we can figure this out..."

The general approached Frost and Steele. She looked at both of them for a few moments. "Gentlemen, I'm going to need you to drop your weapons. You're under arrest."

There was no outburst. No swearing. No defense. Steele just shook his head as he tossed his rifle down. Both he and Frost dropped their pistols, detached their grenade belts, and removed their knives.

Amsterdam made a swift motion with her hand, and several of her troopers gathered around Frost and Steele.

"If you think I'm going to let you put a hand on my Marines-" Hayes began.

"Interfere and I'll put you in the brig too," Amsterdam threatened. Hayes threw up his arms.

"Don't worry boys, I'll take care of this. Just you wait," he said before taking the other Marines to the Pelicans. General Amsterdam turned around after he left, facing Vivian.

"I'm sorry Captain, but this is a goddamn mess. I'm going to conduct and investigation, and until I'm ready, I'm going to confine you to your planetside quarters. It's important that you don't see anyone, don't speak with anyone, per the investigation."

Her momentary indignation passed. Vivian handed the general her rifle and then her sidearm.

"Gladly, General," Vivian said firmly.

"Thank you for complying. I'll be your personal escort," Amsterdam said.

As the squad of Army troopers began to escort Frost and Steele towards one of the Falcons, Carris finally appeared. Instead of going to Vivian, she headed towards her squad mates. Vivian moved to intercept her.

"Hey, hey, stop right there Carris. Don't do anything stupid," Vivian ordered. Amsterdam was right with her. Carris did not have a chance to speak.

"Don't say a word," Amsterdam said to her, "you're confined to quarters." Another squad of troopers were called and Amsterdam gave orders that Carris wasn't to interact with anyone. A long, tense moment passed when she was asked to give up her weapons. When she handed Amsterdam her pistol, which was promptly handed off, Carris pointed at Steele.

"Do not hurt him."

Amsterdam had an excellent poker face. Vivian was not sure she or anyone else would be composed in front of the armored giant.

"I have no intention of doing so."

With that, Carris allowed herself to be surrounded by the Army personnel.

"Hey, she doesn't have anything to do with this. You leave her alone!" Steele shouted. He began to move towards that group but was restrained by two of the Army troopers. "You touch her and you're dead, you're all fucking dead, I swear it!"

Carris watched him, her expression hidden by her helmet. She was taken onto a different Falcon, as were Frost and Steele. Vivian clambered into one with the General, sitting on the right side. As the Falcon took off and turned to head back to base, she looked at the fifteen bodies in the snow. Other troops were already examining the scene. Staring at those corpses, all she could think of was: Jack the Ripper.

Frost and Steele were led into the brig by a dozen military policemen. They had been stripped down to their fatigues and were shackled.

They were escorted to two cells. These cells were moderately sized rooms, with a large window beside the entrance. Inside, there were three bare walls, a cot, and a toilet.

The pair was split up and placed in front of each door. One guard called for the cell doors to be opened. While they waited, Frost glanced at Steele. The sniper was looking back at him, a mournful look on his face. Neither ever thought they would have ended up here.

Both doors opened. Just before they entered, they heard a commotion behind them.

"Get your hands off me. I want to see him."

"I'm sorry ma'am, no visitors."

"You let me in there right now. I outrank you."

Frost turned and saw Jasmine being blocked by two guards. She locked eyes with him. "Nate! Don't worry, we'll clear all this up."

"Doc, ya gotta do something. This is one big screw-up, Waters has gone off her rocker again," Steele yelled at her. "We did what we were supposed to do, she has it in for Frost again! We all know it!"

"No talking!" one of the guards yelled and tried to lead Steele in.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" Steele yelled, and began to struggle. "Doc, this is wrong! You have to do something! We're innocent!"

The guards overpowered him and threw him into his cell. Frost just looked at Jasmine. She smiled reassuringly at him.

"Don't worry, Nate. This is just a mistake. You're a good man, Vivian's just confused again. You'll see."

Frost smiled as Jasmine stepped back. "Don't worry!" she called again.

The guards firmly pushed him into the cell. They ordered him to turn around and removed his shackles.

Frost stood in the stark, white room. Standing in the center, he looked around. Eventually, his gaze settled on the window. It was one way; he could see himself but not the hall outside. He stepped closer and looked at his reflection. All of his features were masked by his facial paint.

One by one, the guards left and the door was sealed shut behind them. He watched them go. All sound and smell was muted. Frost looked back at his reflection for a moment, turned, and stood in the center of his cell, alone.

Author's Note:

YES.

I ACTUALLY DID THAT TO YOU.

AFTER THREE YEARS, I LEFT YOU WITH A CLIFFHANGER ENDING.

MWHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I HATE MYSELF MORE THAN YOU WILL EVER KNOW.

Joking aside, I don't usually like cliffhangers, but this story has had them before, so this shouldn't be anything new. I know it's perceived as a cheap way to get people hooked for the next part of the story, and I would have liked to avoid it, but when I finally decided upon this chapter's contents I knew it HAD to be a cliffhanger. I know many of you won't like it, I'm sorry, but this was the best course of action for this content. I really didn't want to do a cliffhanger, but I only did it because I know exactly how it will pan it. It will, I promise.

So, here we are, the end of the story. Now that I'm here in the author's note, I feel like I'm giving an encore but I don't have any material left. Umm...hold on voice in my head I'll come up with something...

Well, again, thank you so much for keeping with this story. Your support really has fueled it and I can't thank you enough. You're all tremendous folks and I'm really thankful for each and every one of you.

As I said, your comments on this chapter will be responded to on the forum. But we'll get onto the comment responses for the previous chapter.

Ctrl-Dalt-Delete: (Love the name, by the way.) Thanks very much for your comment! I'm glad I've been able to maintain a lore-friendly story; that was a goal going into this story. Although, as you humorously pointed out, I didn't spawn in a bunch of monsters, I do worry sometimes I get something wrong about the Covenant or a weapon or some bit of the greater lore. I've made a few mistakes here and there, but I'm glad I've done a decent job of it.

I really wanted to create decent, distinctly human characters, so knowing that you've found them as such is a real relief. Not all are perfect (this story is far from perfect too, am-I-right-boys okay I'll stop now) but I'm glad they've met some standards. Thanks a lot, Dalt!

Oh, before I forget, thank you for pointing out that mistake. I honestly broke into a laughing fit when I read that because I couldn't believe I wrote something so utterly silly. Thanks for telling me!

MrNumnuts: Thank you. I'm surprised how Steele has taken off for a lot of readers. I certainly have a great time writing him, so I'm glad you like him. Thank you for reading!

Krionik: Yep! And here's another one for ya, baby! Also, of course I remember you! You once told me this was one of your favorite fic's out there and you have no idea what a boost that was for me! Thank you so much for sticking with me, my friend!

Skyler: Well, I thought it was fitting for the final chapter of this segment to show the opposite perspective from the first chapter. It all comes first circle and fits so well together, doesn't it? Wrapped it up with a PINK FRILLY BOW. Okay, okay, I'm okay. *ahem* Thank you for commenting, and it means a lot to me that you think that way about these chapters and this story. I promise to try and bring the same entertainment back for I'm Alone: Exalt. I hope to see ya there, my friend! Thanks so much!

Blackberry Avar: Not exactly sure what you mean but hey, I'm glad that you've acknowledge Amsterdam. She was just supposed to be a throwaway character for a chapter but in her brief appearance, I really enjoyed writing for her and decided to bring her out for a larger role. While certainly not one of the central characters of the story, you and others have pointed out she is a bit of a force multiplier and we'll have some fun with here.

MightBeGone: Trust me, I've missed you too. It's funny you mention the Flood. Even though I've added some minor Forerunner aspects to this story, the Flood is something I will not be touching for a LOOOOONG time. I never liked the flood in Halo, even if they were so central to the events of the games I loved. But I was always more interested in the conflict between the humans and the Covenant, the flood always dragged me out of it. As usual, though, good guess.

I'm glad you like Carris and Steele, and don't worry, I don't want you to die.

The Gap was a very enjoyable read. I think it tapped into some themes that could have fit real well into Titanfall if the original game bothered to have compelling story outside the multiplayer. It was more like a radio show than a campaign/story. Still, it was a lot of fun, and you were able to insert two different characters into a story and through a conversation, convey some engaging themes and ideas. It was a job well done.

I've read Armada, and I'll get back to you on it with a proper comment in the near future. I originally read your story while I was ill and stuffed with medication, so I want to reread it when I actually have my wits about me. And that's a tempting offer but that would ruin the surprise! I want to be surprised, man!

Thanks man, really, thank you. It's been a long time and you've been there for a good stretch of it. Thanks.

Kabuto S. Inferno: You can comment whenever you please, my friend! No worries. And thank you very much for all your valuable constructive criticism for all this time. It's been a looong time and I appreciate you keeping with me.

Carris and Steele are a lot of fun, yes, and Holst is a character who we shan't hold anything definitive for yet. He'll be a bit more prominent in the next story, so don't set anything in stone just yet my friend!

It was inevitable for Vivian to eventually join in ground operations. There is no way for her to understand what Frost has been through or why he is the way he is without experiencing it. Of course, it was not the same experience as you've seen. But it's the beginning, something puts the fire in Vivian, something that'll drive her back out there. Ground warfare between humans, in this story, is treated as dream-like and mythical. Something that is almost unreal, stark, and hard to discern. You don't come out the same way you went in, which is true of all warfare, but in this context it causes something different for different people.

Halo lore in general was something I had a tough time navigating. Comparing it to WH40K lore, it's very broad and in many areas lacks finer details. While WH40K's lore is so voluminous it can be overwhelming, if you have a question about it, you'll find the answer somewhere, or there will be enough support or related lore to make an educated, lore-friendly guess. Still, there are a lot of gaps and the lore kind of folds in on itself and causes some issues. As for the arc, initially it was going to come much later. But after reconfiguring the story while I was gone for so long, I realized I could cut out a lot of fluff and faff and get to it sooner.

And thank you for those parting thoughts. You really understand and that helps. Thank you, my friend, for so much.

Derrik88: Thanks very much for reading, my friend. When you posted this comment, I actually woke up to it. First thing I did when I woke up was seeing that notification and I read it and man, it boosted my morale like you wouldn't believe. What a wonderful way to wake up!

I appreciate your feedback, my friend. And I'm glad to have been able to entertain you while you were going through those midterms. Trust me, as someone who has test anxiety, they're the pits. So I'm more than happy to provide you with some reading material to soldier on! Hang in there, and thanks a bunch!

Bruv: XD You know it's funny you point out the Frost/Steele friendship. My intention was to make them as close as brothers, but there were some times where I thought, 'Man, I'm really pushing this aren't I?' If you read on, you'll see some characters actually bring that up. But I've studied a lot of soldiers throughout history, especially in the American Civil War, and you'd be surprised by how close and tender many of those friendships were. It's enough to make you heart swell. So that's the kind of friendship I wanted to portray here, and true, it does go against the testosterone-fueled of the UNSC Marines, but I still believe their friendship will be defined by tenderness above all else.

And yes, the characters are essentially good, but if you read on, you'll see that might change in the future. Again, I took a great deal of time to study war history and again, you'd be surprised by how many whiteknights were out there. I wanted to bring those whiteknights to life, to have some essentially 'good' characters. Of course, the veneer of goodness is not as thick as one might imagine for some.

Bruh: XD You know, he is. That comes to something completely personal; I listen to a lot of music when I write. It was one of the influences behind Frost's backstory of having a music-loving father and he picked up on it. It was a way to crowbar singing into the story, and nobody finds it more cringe-worthy than me now, but I still had fun with it, and it's important to have fun as the author. But yeah, they're corny as hell. And I love'em.

There it is, folks. The last comment responses. Once again, any you leave here you can find the responses accordingly on the special forum on Vox-Taps!

Thank you everyone for reading, following, and favoriting. You're fine folks and I couldn't ask for a more wonderful group of readers. You're spectacular.

I'll see you all soon.