Postponed Pickup

===Argon Forest, Polinas, June 1st, 2560===
“Colonel, your team is currently without support for the foreseeable future. Your evac has been delayed from the 15th to the 30th, due to our battlegroup being engaged by Banished naval forces. We’ll get to you, just give us time. Hornchurch out.”
Daniel threw the receiver to the floor. The loud ‘clang’ it made on the metallic floor startled some of the radio operators in the room, as they peered over their shoulders to see the commotion. Swearing under his breath, Daniel picked up the telephone, and slotted it back into the long-range radio’s holder. Waiting another two weeks for pickup was bad enough, now they expected him to wait for a month?
He turned towards the door of the prefabricated mobile-communications bunker and stormed out. The noise of his boots attracted more attention, as the door slid open to reveal the clearing the men and women under Daniels’s command had assembled their mobile headquarters at. Nestled in the Argon Forest, without Commonwealth support, stranded on a planet almost entirely controlled by the New Colonial Alliance. To add to the ridiculousness of the situation, he was expected to continue his biweekly commando raids on their outposts, supply dumps and transport hubs. 
What a load of bullshit.
Colonel Daniel Reinhardt, commander of the 1st Battalion, Z Special Unit, sighed. Well, at least he wasn’t stuck on the planet without a purpose. He wheeled to the right, placing him on a direct collision course with a pair of majors strolling through the campground, each holding a standard issue Evelyn Arms EA55. The two officers, deep in conversation, didn’t notice Daniel’s presence until they all but ran into him. The two stumbled over themselves to present themselves to Daniel, rifles gripped tensely, as if Daniel was about to try and rip it from their hands and beat them to death with it. Though rumours had spread about the commander’s background, he had never done that. Yet.
“Major Sampson, and Major Blevins,” he began. His second-in-command, and the battalion’s supply officer both tried not to look Daniel directly in the eye as he began his spiel. “You two are just the people I wanted to see!” he said. His menacing tone from before had dropped entirely, replaced with a friendly, easy-going disposition. “Follow me, to my quarters.” He span around immediately, and began to stride towards the prefabricated metal hut that constituted his private barracks. He heard the quick steps of Blevins and Sampson as they caught up to their commander, unaware of his speed nor his sudden movements.
Opening the door in front of him, he entered, beckoning the two soldiers to come in. The small space offered little in the way of comfortability, yet Daniel had managed to squeeze in a few chairs and a small table, as well as a mini-fridge and desk, the latter of which was covered in papers skewed across the workbench’s flat top, weighed down by the occasional pistol magazine or tacpad. In the far corner of the hut was a small holoscreen, turned off. Stacked neatly next to it were several boxes, all labelled HEDP-M9. Major Blevins saw this, and nudged Sampson to point it out. Where the colonel had gotten these from, they weren’t sure, but they knew it wasn’t from their armoury. After all, they had the stamp of the New Colonial Alliance on the sides. 
Daniel noticed their glances towards the grenades and waved them off. “Don’t worry about it. Spoils of war we got when raiding an Innie weapons cache last night.” He sat down on a small folding chair in his room and gestured for the other two officers to sit. Hesitantly, they did, gathering their stools around the table in the middle. Daniel then got right to the point.
“Gentlemen, evac has been delayed until the 30th. Navy’s got trouble with Brute squadrons, so we’re stuck here for at least a month, if the navy keeps their promise and gets here on time. Which, if I’m honest, I very much doubt.” He paused, drawing a small flask from inside his tunic’s pocket. He opened the cap and took a swig of the single malt whiskey taken from a dead rebel raider. Putting away the bottle, and giving a small belch, he continued. “LZ’s shot to shit, we’re running low on ammo for our M247s, and we currently have… what is it, Tom? 600 effectives? 650?”
Major Tom Blevins answered him quickly. “643, sir. We have 207 KIA, and the 110 wounded were all evacuated last week on the final shuttle out until evac. They didn’t bring any replacements with them, just ammo for our rifles, food, and parts for our Warthogs.” Daniel nodded. He turned to his second in command. “Fred, what’s the morale of the men? Are they rearing? Tired? Scared? Horny?” Fred blushed as Daniel finished his sentence. He was a bit of a prude, if a damned fine officer.
“For the most part they’re fine, and happy to continue our work on Polinas,” he started. “But I don’t know how they’ll react if they’re told we will be here two weeks longer than we’re supposed to be. I can tell you they won’t be happy, though.” Daniel nodded his head once again. “Thanks for talking straight, Fred. I’ll need you to organize a raiding party for tomorrow. 4th Platoon of Easy haven’t gone out in two weeks, it’s their time on the lot.”
He stood up, followed quickly by his subordinates. “Thank you for the time, Majors.” He said, as the two combat officers collected their rifles and nodded to their commander. They then headed out of the prefab, ducking their heads as they walked through the low doorframe. Daniel sighed. Fifteen years in the military, five in the Commonwealth’s, had not prepared him for this sort of FUBAR mission. Sure, he’d been on pretty fucked operations with the UNSC’s FORECON in The War, but nothing this bad. And nothing when he was in command. 
He sat up in his chair, staring at the many magazines and spent casings sitting motionlessly on his desk. He felt the M6 Magnum in his thigh holster, and gave it a reassuring pat. Even if a situation was bad, he still had the sidearm that protected several generations of human soldiers with him. As did every single one of the six-hundred and forty-three men and women under his command, stuck on this godforsaken rebel planet. And he was damned if he wasn’t going to try and keep every single one of them alive.