Costs and Consequence

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“Lead,” Konrad called out, coming to his knee, careful that his armored bulk did not come down atop any of the still corpses. Smoke was in the air, and were he not wearing a vacuum sealed helmet he might’ve tasted the scent of melted and blackened flesh on the wind, smelled the exhaust of spent plasma. It was a massacre, nothing short of it, but it wasn’t their first.
“Lead come on.” Konrad’s hand went out, clasping his comrade by the shoulder, as the other Spartan sat motionless on his knees. They’d been on their way to rescue the troopers that were butchered around them. Their last transmission had been a full fifteen seconds before their Warthog skidded around the bend, three heavily armed and armored Spartan-II’s inside it. They’d been so close, and given the carnage, it hadn’t been enough.
In his other hand, Konrad-004 hefted an MA2B carbine, the ammo counter projecting a single digit whilst a blinking light on his HUD reminded him that he was onto his last reload. It didn’t matter in that moment though, this fight was done, the Covenant assault team responsible for the slaughter now laying twisted and broken in pools of their own strangely colored blood.
“He okay?” A voice came from behind him. Konrad didn’t look back to Vinh-030, instead he simply gave a nod of his head, giving their leader another shake of his shoulder whilst the third Spartan stood sentinel behind them. The motionless Spartan had the last of the troopers cradled in his arms, seconds earlier the man had been breathing, begging for the pain to stop.
In the end it had, but in the only way it could for someone with such extensive plasma burns, when life mercifully left his body, the process expedited by the generous administration of a cocktail of painkillers meant for Spartan usage. For normal humans, the substance would be fatal in such a dose. Konrad imagined that had been the point. 
The Spartan rested his carbine in the crook of his arm, eyes set on his leader as the soldier looked down upon the lifeless trooper, something inside him struggling to process what had happened. Konrad understood, and didn’t at the same time. They’d been in this fight two years, seen plenty of broken human bodies, some of their own making when it’d been rebels that were the mission and not the alien menace. But somehow this time was different.
Konrad didn’t quite understand, but he hadn’t held one of them as they died either, and given how it seemed to impact his leader, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to. His eyes flicked to the motion tracker on his HUD, watching to ensure the cluster of three yellow dots marking him and his companions remained the only such blips on the screen. They were good, for now.
“Kurt come on.” Konrad gave Spartan-051 a firm tug on his shoulder, finally snapping him back into the world around him. The Spartan lifted his head, looking forward over the tangled mess of UNSC fortifications, charred corpses hung over barricades, twisted alien bodies lying broken next to them where they’d been cut down. A brutal scene of a brutal war with no end in sight.
“Green four here, hostile patrol about a click out, looks like they might head your way.” Daisy-023’s voice came clear over TEAMCOM, and Kurt gave a nod, winking his status light green, Konrad and Vinh following suit. 051 was moving now, gently he laid the still body to rest on the ground, and shut its eyes with his fingers. Konrad thought it had been a man, but the extent of the injuries made the distinction unclear, so he didn’t bother assuming.
“We’ll be faster next time.” Kurt uttered, taking up the M392 DMR and pulling one knee out from beneath him, rising to his feet with Konrad, turning about to face the two Spartans alongside him. Konrad wasn’t sure what to make of it, Kurt was good with the rank and file, with civvies, he could talk with them in a way the rest of them just couldn’t. The tradeoff of course came in that he felt for them more. It wasn’t that Konrad, Vinh, or Daisy didn’t care for the UNSC rank in file, they weren’t entirely inhuman, they were just able to separate, to compartmentalize. 
Kurt could do, but sometimes it seemed like Green One slipped, and it left Konrad worried. He hadn’t seen Kurt like this since augmentation, since dozens of their brothers and sisters had been ripped apart by the very augmentations that truly made them into Spartans. It’d been a hard day for all of them, but even beneath a metric ton of titanium alloy plating, Konrad could see the level of duress 051 was under.
“Roger lead.” Konrad answered, giving the other Spartan a nod. “We should move.”
Kurt gave Konrad a nod, and brought his rifle back into a proper hold, and began moving. Konrad cradled his carbine and set after Green Leader. They had minutes to get clear, and not near enough ammunition for a prolonged firefight. He supposed they’d need to move fast.
Good thing they were all that they were.
Category:Short stories