No Rhyme, No Reason

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October 27th, 2559
Rock Peninsula, Boundary
2356 Hours
"Hardtack and moldy cheese again?" muttered Walter Nichols, the glowing light of the fusion core in the cave illuminating his and the other rebels' faces.
"I'll have it, or one of the other guys will, if you're so sick of it." replied Gregory Brenviz, the leader of the severely weakened First Brigade.
"Hey now, I might be sick of it, and I may think it's the most disgusting food I've ever eaten, but it doesn't mean I'm not gonna eat it."
"Ah damned." cut in Julian Rusak. "I was hoping you'd give in to your city life scruples." he continued.
"You don't need any more food Ru. Soon enough we'll have to roll you towards the Oonskies." replied Brenviz, garnering a laugh from the rest of the rebels. Jokes were a luxury that few could afford in this time of crisis, and those few that were made, while they would not get even a chuckle during times of peace, suddenly became side-splitting comedy.
"I doubt that. You could tear my ribs out and use them as bludgeons though." Rusak rebutted. 
As Rusak went to take a bite of his cheese, placed in between two pieces of hardtack, the cave shook once. "Tremor?" he asked. Nichols stood up, and cautiously crept to the cave entrance. He took one look out, and turned around, with a look that meant he did not even have to say what was going on. "Damnit." Rusak muttered, and stuffed the rest of his impromptu sandwich in his mouth. Bringing his canteen to his mouth, he gulped down the foodstuff whole, and grabbed his rifle. Crouching down, Rusak hoisted up his rucksack with a grunt, and swung it onto his shoulders, tightening the straps to the point they were digging into his skin.
Looking over at Nichols, who was performing the same affair, Rusak noticed something strange. Was there a hint of a smile on the man's lips? He had no time to ponder as another explosion shook the cave. "Let's go!" yelled Brenviz, gesticulating for the rebels to get out of the cave as the explosions became more and more rapid. "It's a fucking barrage!" yelled one of the rebels. Running outside, Rusak saw the absolute chaos that was engulfing the other nearby rebel encampments.
"We need to surrender sir!"
"Momma!"
"Fucking stand your ground, kill them all!"
Feeling a tug on the arm of his tunic, Rusak saw Brenviz yanking on it. "We need to go!" he yelled. "Come on!" he continued, this time forcing Rusak along. He finally snapped out of his stupor, and followed after the column of other rebels, a motley crew from various units under the command of Brenviz, simply because he was the most experienced.
As artillery rounds shook the earth beneath his feet, Rusak stumbled back and forth as he followed after Brenviz. In his shaking vision, he could see columns of smoke rising from the other end of Rock Peninsula. Men were dying there too. 
"Hornets!"
Rusak shook with fear at the very mention of that deadly little beast of the air. Dropping to the ground, he pushed his face into the dirt, and prayed. As the monster of the air opened fire, Rusak could feel tiny pieces of rock stinging his face. "Fire!" screamed Brenviz. "Fire goddamnit!" he continued, nudging Rusak hard with his boot. As Brenviz slowly lifted his head, he saw the lifeless bodies of several rebels. It finally dawned on him, did not matter how he thought about killing people, the UNSC aviator in the Hornet would kill him if he did not kill him first. 
Coming up from his prone position, one knee resting on the rocky ground, the slight pain of it already coming over him, Rusak raised his rifle. Firing a prolonged burst, one of the rounds found its mark, tearing into the pilot, sending the Hornet into a spiral.
"Get out of the way!"
Rusak stood, and propelled himself into a nearby ditch as the craft came down in a fiery explosion, the heat of it washing over him. As the area fell silent, Rusak looked into the sky, as the slapdash air militia made up of what was left of the Boundary Republic's airpower tore through the black star-studded sky above the mountainous peninsula. He was happy, and ashamed to be. He was thankful that Brenviz was going to be the man who took the trauma of seeing men die because of his commands, and not him. He was an officer, yes, but his authority was limited now.
Rusak wondered if it all was worth it. Was it worth dying for a government that was not going to survive. He could not say. All he knew was that it was worth fighting for his friends.
----
0156 Hours
"The fire's stopped."
"That's not exactly a good thing." responded Brenviz
"Why not?"
"They're not going to risk hitting their own men."
"We're trapped here then."
"For all intents and purposes, yes."
"I don't want to die here."
Brenviz never responded to Rusak's final comment. Looking around at all the passed out rebels, Rusak quickly felt himself become tired. Unrolling his blanket, he propped himself up against the rock wall, and covered himself up with the brown fleece fabric. Closing his eyes, he fell into a deep sleep, his rifle within reaching distance.
"Wake up! We're under attack!"
It felt as if it had only been a few seconds, and Rusak was already being shaken awake. "Shitshitshit!" he yelled, throwing the blanket off of himself and grabbing his rifle. Pulling his field cap back up from its position over his eyes, he rushed over to Brenviz, who was peering through a pair of binoculars. "Take a look." he said, handing the matte black optics to Rusak, who brought them up to his eyes.
In the distance, tiny flames illuminated the night. Those flames were being wielded by men with large tanks on their backs, and golden reflective visors. "Flamethrower troops!" he yelled. Raising his rifle in panic, Rusak opened fire, raking the ground in front of the Hellbringers with seven point six two millimeter rounds. "Damnit!" yelled Brenviz. "Screw it. Open fire!" he continued, and the remaining rebels in the makeshift fortification unleashed a hail of lead.
"They keep coming!" yelled one rebel at Brenviz, even as several Hellbringers fell, the rebel rounds finding their mark. "Bring up the Confetti Maker, fill the air with bullets on those Oonskie bastards!" replied Brenviz, pointing at the ever approaching tiny flames.
"Out of the way." grunted one rebel as he pushed Rusak out of the way. Looking to his right to see who decided it was a good idea to shove a man out of his firing position in the middle of a battle, Rusak saw the two-man machine gun crew setting up the weapon.
Bringing himself back up to his feet, Rusak prepared to fire, only to hear the distinctive chattering of the Confetti Maker, and within seconds, a massive explosion as one of the rounds found its way to the fuel tank of one UNSC soldier. "Keep firing! Drive them back!" screamed Brenviz, who was unleashing hell of his own with his M7S submachine gun.
Bracing his M392 against his shoulder, Rusak opened fire on fully automatic. Gripping the weapon with a white knuckle grip, he still found it near-impossible to keep himself in control of the matte-black rifle that was spitting its payload at the now backing up Hellbringers. "Pursue them gentlemen!" yelled Brenviz.
At the commander's word, Rusak drew his M392's bayonet, and affixed it to the front of the rifle. Pulling himself over the top of the makeshift fortifications, Rusak charged alongside the rest of the rebels, firing wildly into the darkness, hoping he'd hit something, anything. "They're running! We drove them back!" Brenviz yelled in triumph, and a smile crossed Rusak's sweat and dirt covered face.
But the triumph was short lived. A tracer flew through the air, and impacted the side of another rebel's head, leaving a gory stump where it used to be. "Ambush!" yelled Brenviz, who took aim and opened fire at the sniper. Reaching one hand from his M7S, he tapped the side of his helmet, and turned his fire to a different place. "They're coming down the ridge!", he exclaimed, pointing at the exact place he was talking about.
Even as the rebels opened fire, more rounds flew from their new assailants, cutting them down. Rusak looked down at a red light near another group of fighters. "Grenade!" he cried, diving to the ground as the explosive detonated, sending the corpses of men flying. Scrambling to his feet, Rusak saw the UNSC troops, who he now recognized as Marines, were now close enough he could see them.
Among them, there was one pointing and yelling orders, obviously an officer. Taking aim with his M392, Rusak pulled the trigger, and a round spat from the muzzle, tearing through the officer's helmet, and sending the commander to the ground. Firing another shot, and another, Rusak downed three UNSC, as the rest melted back into the night, and it fell silent. Walking to the corpse of the dead officer, Rusak took a knee next to her, and for the first time, saw a dying 'Oonskie' up close.
As he took a knee, Rusak now saw the detail of the officer. It was a woman, her helmet missing, and her black hair stained with crimson from where Rusak's round had torn through the side of her head. As he went to retrieve any supplies he could from her body, Rusak felt the officer shift and heard a moan of pain. She looked up at Rusak, a look of terror in her eyes.
Rusak felt his hand reach for his slung rifle, but he halted, and moved his hand back to his side. Sitting down, Rusak carefully lifted up the officer's head, and cradled it. After all he had done for a reason he barely understood, the least he could do was comfort one dying person, even if she was an 'Oonskie'. But his penance did not last long, as he heard Brenviz calling for him. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Rusak whispered as he stood up, unslinging his rifle. Backing away, he pointed the M392 at her head, and pulled the trigger, looking away as he did so.
"Yeah, I'm over here!" he called out to Brenviz, who came jogging over.
Spotting the dead body, he asked "Officer?"
"I think."
"Let's see then."
Brenviz took a knee next to the shattered body, as Rusak carefully averted his eyes from the carnage. The former yanked a pair of dog tags from the body, and looked at them. "Captain Parisa, C., UNSC Marine Corps." he said, and, taking one of the dog tags, threw it to Rusak. "It's your's now. Proof." he said. "Meet us up on the ridge. We're going to be getting going soon." he continued, turning around and walking away, his black armor melting into the night.
As Rusak too turned to follow Brenviz, he quickly jammed Parisa's dogtag into her armor. At least they'd be able to identify her, he thought as he jogged to catch up to the rest of his unit. Looking into the sky, he saw an object in the distance, hovering in the air. He did not know what it was, all he knew was that he had seen enough death today.
Category:Until All Is Lost
Category:Until All Is Lost Stories