An Ankou

Private Jennifer Hess closed her eyes for a few seconds, then blinked them open, shaking her head clear of how tired she was. It wasn't exactly early, but it was still a few hours away from noon, and damn were these patrols boring. Boring or exhausting. Or both. This was one of the ones that was both.
They'd set out that morning, well before dawn, and had walked nearly the entire perimeter of the survivor-controlled area of the city. And that whole time? Not a single Covenant sighting. Hell, Jen hadn't seen a single Covenant soldier since she had 'enlisted,' as much as you could call what she went through enlistment. Well, that wasn't exactly true.
The group of survivors was willing to train civilians up into Marines as they came of age, and Jen had just turned 18 a few months ago. She had wanted to fight back against the aliens. Win back her home. But instead, she got sent on the safe patrols. The ones that went out after several more had already cleared the area ahead of them. So when she says she hasn't seen any of the aliens since her enlistment, she meant living ones. There were plenty of dead Covenant lying around in the path of her patrol. She didn't want already dead Covenant, though. She wanted to be the one killing the Covenant!
Grumbling, Jen kicked a stone on the ground in front of her, rolling her neck and adjusting her glasses.
"Private!" The voice of her squad leader hissed back to her, quietly but firmly. "Quit making so much noise."
Jen sighed again but straightened up. "Yes, Sergeant. Sorry..."
The man was right, she knew. She'd been slipping up, moaning so loudly. Sure, she wanted to fight, but drawing attention to herself? That's just how she got people killed. Her friends. Her family. The ones she was doing this for. Maybe her dad didn't want to fight for his world, but she sure as hell would do enough for the both of them.
"Don't apologize. Just be more careful. We're almost to the final mass driver. You can bitch all you want there, when we're in a more secure location."
Jen smirked. That was true, she supposed. Each of the mass drivers had with it a collection of stationary machine gun turrets, ammo, barricades to serve as cover. On the way between each driver, their only defense was stealth and getting the drop on anyone coming their way. But once they got there? They could set up strong. Hold their own for as long as they needed.
Or so Jen had thought.
The sight the patrol stumbled upon at their next stop said a different story. Instead of the weapons crews they'd expected to be present, Jen and the rest of the patrol saw only blood, spent shells, and corpses. Raising her weapon, Jen rushed forward as her Sergeant split up the patrol, moving along the entrance to the mass driver's control room with Lance Corporal Torrens. Covering her partner as the Lance Corporal cleared the interior, Jen moved inside, finding the area abandoned. Except... There, in the corner, a single man, frantically repeating attempts to send a distress call over his broken radio. Her visor identified him as Private First Class Anthony Mancini.
"Hey! Anthony! It's okay." Jen went over to the man, kneeling beside him. "Just tell me what happened, and we'll get you out of here."
"It's T...T-Tony. And s...s-snipers. We were s...s-setting up the turrets, getting r...r-ready for your patrol, and they just picked us off! I only survived because I was in here... Everyone else... Th...th-they're gone."
"It's okay, Tony. We'll take care of them... You just sit tight."
"O...o-okay... Thanks..."
Jen took the radio from the man, frowning as she turned away from him. "Well... She got what she wanted." Jen sighed as she thought to herself, waiting for the Sergeant to get back. "Looks like it's going to be a real fight after all."
----
It only took a minute to explain the situation to her Sergeant, and from there, another two to get set up. They still didn't know where the snipers were, and Tony was being less than helpful on that front. He was in shock, sure, but Jen couldn't help but be a little annoyed at the fact that he couldn't so much as give a description of where the shots came from. The lack of any information just meant they had to stay cooped up inside until a better plan could be worked out. One which the Sergeant and Lance Corporal Torrens were working through alone, leaving her unable to hear a single detail.
But what she was able to hear just fine from her spot at the front entrance to the control room was the sound of gunfire, both human and Covenant. And from the looks of it, the rest of the patrol heard it too. Ducking out from inside the building, she ran to cover (not having forgotten the threat of snipers), raised her assault rifle, and took in the scene beyond. Jen felt the patrol's own sniper settle in next to her, but she still focused forward upon the ever-advancing firefight. Zooming in with her visor, she let out a soft gasp at what she saw. "Alaska!"
Scrambling to her feet, she shouldered her rifle, squeezing off a few controlled bursts over the Spartan's head. Her rifle rounds tore through the drones emerging from the ground behind him as she heard the crack of her partner's sniper rifle beside her. Activating her comms, she took charge of guiding Alaska and his friends in.
"Run to us! We've got you covered!"
Almost on cue, she heard the rattle of the stationary turrets above her head, filling the air with bullets, taking down swaths of drones. She kept firing as well, up until her magazine clicked empty and a pink needle shattered off the ground between her and her sniper.
"We need to relocate. Now!"
Jen didn't wait for a response, charging inside the mass driver platform, slamming a new magazine home, and running up the stairs to the platform above. A platform upon which she found her Sergeant and Lance Corporal Torrens lying dead, only two more gunners left of the four they started with. Cursing, she ducked behind a barricade, firing out from cover.
"Great job, Jen. You got what you asked for and now two of your people are dead." Jen growled at her own thoughts, banishing them deep into her mind. "Later," she thought, "For now we need to survive." She found herself falling back on her training. Don't think, just carry out the actions. Controlled bursts, stay on target, in cover when you need to reload. She almost missed Al pulling up next to her, but she didn't miss what came next.
A flash of blue light streaked past one of the turrets nearby.
"Fuck!"
To the credit of the apparent civilian operating it, he didn't so much as flinch. But this was getting out of hand.
"They've still got a beam rifle up there," Jen glanced to her right, about to request counter-fire, but saw her partner bloody and on the floor, "And we lost our last sniper! Fall back!"
She stood to charged back into the building but instead found herself falling face-first onto the ground below, scrambling for cover as the heat from a near-miss pricked across her back. That was a dumb idea.
"Get to cover, at least, goddammit!" Jen stayed behind cover, low on ammo, and with no hope of hitting the target with an assault rifle anyway. Muttering to herself, she activated her radio, cycling through the various frequencies back to base. Eventually, a signal got through.
"This is Private Jennifer Hess! We need assistance at perimeter mass driver Hotel Alpha Whiskey Kilo! That is Mass driver Hotel Alpha Whiskey Kilo! Pinned down by sniper fire! We have civilians with us!"
"Understood, Private. We'll get help out your way as soon as we can."
And that was that. Jen let out a breath, back pressed against the barricade behind her. She waited, listening to the sounds of battle around her. Just a little bit longer... And then everything went quiet. She blinked her eyes open, looking around, standing.
"I think we're clear..." Jen's first statement was barely audible, but she was alive, and there was no more shooting. "I think we're clear!"
Walking over to Al, she pulled the giant Teal-armored man in for a hug. "Patrols have been looking for you forever, now! Why didn't you check back in?" Jen loosened her grip a little as she saw the man flinch in pain.
"I was busy getting these guys back here." Al gestured over the survivors with him while someone in ODST armor came down from a nearby building where he must have taken out the enemy sniper. "The group was bigger, but we split when a Wraith caved the street in under us. But the good news is I got 'em back here safely... Including a plucky ODST sniper."
Jen smiled, waving to the ODST. "Your friend had a good idea." She suddenly realized she was the last one left from her patrol and frowned. "Get everyone else into the building. Civilian and the two marines to protect him... You and I can make sure we didn't miss anyone?"
The civilian piped up. "So uh... are we at least... mostly safe now?" He gave the mass driver a once over, then sighed. "Holy... holy shit. I think-"
Jen didn't let him finish the words. "Hell, could do the building, or if you're up for it, you and the others head down the street here straight for Optican. The patrols there will get you checked in."
The ODST looked between her and Alaska. "Who outranks who so I know who to ask for orders..."
She should have seen that coming, going around like she was in charge. Jen simply replied with a shake of her head. "Right now, none of you but Al and I even technically have our ranks anymore. I'm just a Private. But really, if you don't want to argue about getting food, shelter, and integration back into some semblance of society..." She pointed right back down the road towards the Optican building.
"Alright, alright. I'll make sure Milo gets to safety..." Jen assumed Milo must be the civilian. "I could use a rest and maybe..." She couldn't help but chuckle when the ODST sniffed himself and gagged. "A shower or something."
"Yeah. They've got running water up." She turned back to Alaska as Milo and the marines departed. "Check the bodies... I'll handle our men. They were all natives..." Her voice dropped at that, sighing as she set off to do what needed to be done. Kneeling before each one, she removed their grenade belts, said a few words in her native tongue, and set a primed incendiary charge upon each of their chests.
Jen was standing up from the last marine—Lance Corporal Torrens—when she felt the tears coming on. Quietly walking back over to Alaska, she pulled herself into a hug and buried her head against his chest. She felt one of his arms gently rest around her body and his chest leave her cheek as he knelt before her.
"You've come a long way in what? Four months since I last saw you?"
Damnit, Jen. Don't let him see you like this. She brushed her eyes dry, nodding. She honestly didn't remember how long it had been. "Yeah... I guess..." Jen looked over her shoulders at the flames burning down behind her and felt that scared little girl rising in her chest again, making her feel oh so small. "We couldn't save them, Alaksa... I've wanted to save people so fucking much. And... and we couldn't. I can't... I always lose people..." Her mind flashed back to her mom as she looked around, shaking her head. "Always." She looked back to Alaska. "We're going to die here, Alaska. We're going to die here."
"We're not going to die here..." She could hear the soft smile in his voice, behind that reflective faceplate. "Jen, you did a damn good job. It's hard to... save everyone... I... I should know."
Jen blinked, hearing his voice waver with those words. She should have known he had so many losses, too... But he was strong. She could be, too. Sniffing, she looked up at him again, smiling softly with a nod.
"Okay, Alaska... Oka..." Her voice caught in her throat and her chest burst into searing pain. Looking down, she saw two prongs of blue light punching through her chest, even as the harsh tone of an alien speaking her tongue sounded behind her.
"I've waited a long time for this, Demon."
The prongs disappeared. Jen felt her knees give out. She was falling to the ground, a gurgling breath escaping her mouth, and then everything was dark.
----
"An Ankou et che diveme e venirot evit it."
Alaska stood out of the way, looking over the heads of a sparsely populated circle surrounding a pyre. "The Ankou and his second come for us all." His HUD wrote out the translated words of the funeral prayer. Yet the motion hardly stole the Spartan's gaze from what lay upon the pyre beyond. Private Jennifer Hess, barely eighteen years old. His comrade in arms, a marine in his care, dead. And worst of all, before all that, his friend. Dead.
He had been responsible for her, and he had failed. Alaska had seen his fair share of loss, so why was this one eating at him? Was it just how fresh it was? But what about the other deaths on this journey?
"Maybe the pain wasn't all bad." Al thought to himself as the pyre was lit, flames licking the dark sky above. The fire reflected in his visor and burned in his vision, matching that within. "Maybe the pain wasn't all bad." And maybe he was right, that it wasn't. It had given him the drive to avenger her. That fire he felt now he had felt tenfold and inflicted as such upon her killed. Alaska frowned. "Would that have been what she wanted?"
Alaska was sure she would have wanted the Elite dead. She wanted all of the Elites dead. She wanted this world freed. Her world freed. So he had to keep that fire burning. "Enfer feid," she had mentioned to him. "Cold hell." A life without fire doomed the soul to frigid damnation. Maybe that's why the Sironans always went out with a pyre?
He had heard her speak of this with him, before. In the manner of complaining, back before she was old enough to join the fledgling Marine boot camp set up just inside the walls he leaned against. She had hardly known her mother, growing up, but Jen had, instilled in her, the religion of this place nevertheless. Her father, on the other hand... He was more secular. Didn't believe in this. Nor did his girlfriend. Alaska wasn't too sure he did either. But still, that never mattered to him. "Every Sironan who dies is to be cremated." Even all these months later, those words rang clear in his mind. And he had seen it in action. Back at the mass driver, in her last actions, Jen had gone to each one of her patrol and primed their incendiary charges. 
"Every Sironan who dies is to be cremated."
And now it was her turn.
Alaska sighed as the fire burned low, a few more prayers being said as the funeral came to a close. He was responsible for this. He should have seen the Elite before it was too late, but now... Now all he had to offer Jen was what he had given so far. Vengeance. Vengeance and assurance that her father saw this ceremony completed.
No... That wasn't quite right.
"Sirona is the essence of this planet. And of healing waters. That sort of thing, you know? Bodua's the essence of the fighting spirit. Vengeance and victory. Though we're in Maponos now, it's Bodua that's pushing within us to strike back at the enemy. Maponos is youth. There's an old Earth book... 'We were soldiers once, and young.' I'm not sure we can ever be young again, but being here... Seeing those who still are? How can they not understand that I have to fight for that?"
That meeting couldn't seem to leave his mind, the words replaying. He did have one more thing to give her. Victory.
Category:The Weekly
Category:Siege of Sirona (Story Collection)