Fire here.

Greetings to the readers of Gears of War fanfiction! I’ve decided to take a break from writing “Fallout 3: The Wayward Soldier” and given Gears of War fanfiction ago. I’ve seen some pretty good stuff on here so far but they always seemed like they followed the same pattern, especially when a lead female role is concerned. Don’t get me wrong, I really like some of the stories in this category but sometimes I prefer a change apart from the lead role getting into Delta, always seeming like he/she is a natural born shot, being spunky as hell or have parents in the COG or have a budding romance etc (But I love seeing romance in a GoW story if it’s done right) And this is great if you’re not totally anal about clichés and paranoid about Gary/Mary Sues and stuff like that *CoughlikeIamCough*

Gears of War: Crimson Cross” is my attempt at breaking the stereotypes of GoW Fanfiction . This takes place during Gears of War 2 for the record since I’ve never actually played the first Gears of War *Noob* so I’m still very unsure about the lore. I’ve tried not to change the storyline or take anything away from the already lead characters like Marcus and Dom (Since they kick so much ass that they don’t need my help) I’ve tweaked bits that I hated or wished could have been different so there’s still a few surprises. This is my first attempt at writing GoW fanfiction so bear with my noobness :]

Other than that, Read and Review as per usual. I love hearing what my readers have to say. I hope I haven’t missed out any mistakes. My proofing is bloody awful.

Gears of War and all related characters, plots etc belong to Epic Games. Kiera Sullivan belongs to DamonxBairdx and Charlie “Airhead” O’Rielly belongs to The Sixth I own nothing really =(

Gears of War: Crimson Cross
Chapter One

“If I could be like that,
I would give anything to live one day
In those shoes.
If I could be like that, what would I do?”
- Three Doors Down, If I could be like that.

COG Serial number: PV-J.A.010101011992
Current Time: 13:25
Current Location: Jacinto, Hospital.

“Morphine...We’ll need you...And Vicaden...No, you take a while to work...Ibuprofen? You’re pretty useless so I won’t bother. You should on the other rack.” With several bottles of medication in one hand, Jennifer Anderson steadied herself the spare and managed to turn around on the swivelling office she had been standing on. Using such a chair to stack medicines was less than advisable but the young woman of twenty five was not known for her common sense. The aluminium shelf opposite was just out of her reach, only an inch or so away. Balancing away on the chair like a circus clown, Jennifer reached out again. A tongue poked out between her lips, a sure sign that she was concentrating.

Just a little bit more.

Then fate threw her another curved ball that she had no chance to dodge.

The frayed office chair disappeared out from under Jennifer’s feet. She let out an undignified squeak of fright and flayed out to grab something. Her gloved hands caught the aluminium and titanium shelf behind her but the rack was just not strong enough. With the young woman clinging to it, the unit fell backwards with an almighty crash and knocked into another. Vials of fluids smashed to the ground and spread out in sticky puddles. Dozens of jars and bottles shattered when they hit the ground, sending hundreds upon hundreds of tablets out upon the ground like rainbow pebbles. Jennifer hit the ground hard, the shelf mounted upon her. The pearly grey medic armour that adorned her protected all but her pride.

For several seconds, the woman lay still under the heavy unit in a stunned stupor. A lump on the back of her head started to swell mere seconds after the impact of the fall, promising a money back guarantee of a killer headache later. Blue eyes blinked at the blurred, hazy world above and limbs twitched, searching for any broken bones. Jennifer was disappointed to find none. A broken bone would have made her superior less inclined to reprimand her, believing a broken limb to be more than enough punishment.

“Private Anderson! What the hell are you doing!?” Shouted a voice somewhere above Jennifer’s swimming head. Blue hues swivelled up, dreading whomever had found her in such a debacle.

Sergeant Marko was glaring down at the upside down Private, lips pursed together in an immeasurable amount of fury. Jennifer was petrified of Sergeant simply because he was a frightening person to look at. Marko was quite possibly one of the scariest looking creatures she had even come across. Bluish black hair clashed with blue eyes so dark they could have been black, putting Jennifer in mind of a shark. Coupled with two rows of sharp teeth and a wicked smile, it only seemed to add evidence to Jennifer’s theory. It was not the least bit surprising that he had been nicknamed “Mako” by the other recruits.

But without her glasses, he was nothing but a large, tealy brown blur to Jennifer. It was probably better that way.

“Well?” he asked, seemingly waiting for an explanation. Jennifer rolled onto her stomach and scrabbled up, vertigo claiming her head. When she was on her feet, the good Sergeant tore into her with all the strength and aggressiveness of a Locust. “Look at this mess private! Just look at it!” He gestured to the mess as if Jennifer was not aware of it. “Hundreds of credits worth of medicine Ruined! Give me Reevers. Give me Kantas. Give me Brumaks. Anything but you Anderson. Compared to you the Locust Horde is a complete joy.”

Jennifer stood at attention, trembling all over. “I-I am so sorry sir, it was an accident,” she managed to spit out, her stutter threatening to rear its ugly head.

“Private, this is not an ‘accident’, it is a catastrophe! Why do I even put up with you?”

He waited a moment and Jennifer released that he was awaiting an answer. The woman swallowed nervously, searching desperately for an answer to give her ball-busting superior. “Well sir, you put up with me because I’m a qualified third grade Medic and that I can read and write some Locust – “

Sergeant Marko cut her off midsentence, his face a storm. “I put up with you because your father was one hell of an officer. Gods rest his soul.”

Jennifer looked down, her face a bright red under his scrutiny. “It will never happen again sir. I swear.”

Marko let out a snort. “That is what you said when you shot your firearms instructor. That is also what you said when you ejected the King Raven’s guns while on the ground. You’re a walking disaster Private. If we weren’t so completely desperate for soldiers, we would have kicked you out long ago.” Jennifer winced at his words but said nothing in response, more than used to his harsh words since every one of them were true. The redhead looked to the mess again and sighed. “Now, I don’t care how you do it but clean this up.”

“Sir yes sir,” Jennifer answered, willing him to go away. Marko shot her another glare then turned on his heel and disappeared out the double swing doors into the hospital. Jennifer did not breathe again until his booted footsteps had faded out completely. She slumped back down to the ground, heart hammering away so fiercely that Jennifer thought that she would become the youngest person in history to die from a stress-induced stroke. “Breathe Jenny, breathe. He’s gone now,” she told herself. Despite her best efforts, the woman continued to quiver inside her armour like a plate of hospital jelly.

No sooner had the Marko disappeared, more footsteps approached the storage bay of Jacinto Base hospital. They were too quick and light to be Marko’s or any other male gear so it could have only meant that another female was fast approaching.

“Jenny? You around here?” called out another soldier. “Jenny” finally relaxed, recognising her friend’s cheerful voice.

“I’m in here Kiera,” Jennifer sounded out before reaching down and setting the unit upright again. More bottles and glass fell to the ground, each crash another reminder of her foul up.

The head of her fellow Gear popped through the double doors, copper hair cut short in regulation with COG protocols. The other woman looked the chaos and let out a low. “Crap Jen, how did you manage this?” she asked in amusement, stepping through the door and over all the little puddles of fluids to reach her friend. She was not a tall woman, standing roughly at the same height as Jennifer herself. Teal armour adorned her body, standard issue to any COG soldier. The weapon of choice to most Gears, a Lancer Bayonet Rifle, was clipped to her back along with a Gnasher Shotgun. Kiera was one of the few people who could look past Jennifer shortcomings and for that, the raven haired woman was extremely grateful. In return, Jennifer tried her best to be more forward and be a decent friend.

Gods knew they would need in it the coming days.

Jennifer reddened again and started to pick up some of the bottles and jars that had not smashed. “It was an accident.”

Kiera sighed and scratched her messy haired head. “It’s always an accident with you.”

“I know.”

“And there was me hoping that we could get some R&R before the big push.”

Jennifer held up a bottle to the light to read the label. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. I’ve been ordered to stay here and see to Rust Lung infected patients.”

The woman recoiled back. “Careful, you’ll get it as well.”

“You really shouldn’t say things like that.”

“You can never be too careful,” Kiera stated before bending over to pick up a plastic container that was still full.

“What’s this?”

Behind thick frames, Jennifer squinted at the bottle. “Flucolxacillin.”

The copper haired woman stared back blankly. “Sorry Jen, I don’t speak ‘Doctor’s Weekly’”

“It’s an antibiotic. Treats minor viruses.”

“Where does it go?”

Jennifer pointed to the fourth unit. “Since you're here, you could give me a hand."

The redhead let another smile tug at her lips. “Mako shark wouldn’t be too happy if I did that.”

“Please Kiera?"

“Alright alright.” Kiera joined Jennifer’s side and started collecting up broken shards of glass as if she were picking daises.

Jennifer dipped her head. “Thanks Kiera. I’d never manage on my own.”

“You don’t often do.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Sorry sorry. But you know what the other guys call you right?” Kiera tossed empty bottles into a hazard bin with more force than necessary.

Jennifer winced in recollection. She had walked in on three other Gears talking about her. Nothing pleasant had come out of that exchange. Corporal Damon Baird had successfully made Jennifer only feel three inches tall. “Yeah, ‘Cannon Fodder’. But I guess it could be worse.”

The copper haired woman discarded a handful of broken glass the vibrant yellow bin, her face a storm of emotions. “Jen! How could it be worse?”

“I could be dead. That’s worst right?” Jennifer pointed out.

Her companion snorted, eying the dark haired woman with an emotion close to disgruntlement. “Well, yeah I guess so. But fuck Jen, you need to get yourself a backbone girl or the Locust will walk all over you. Literally.” Jennifer clenched her hands and turned away, knuckles white underneath her armour. It was bad enough when one’s superior was demanding that you grow some spine, it was another thing entirely if your closest friend was saying it as well. Jennifer continued to clean up the mess in silence. Several times, her friend had attempted to strike up a conversation and failed.

Once the clean-up was complete, Jennifer and Kiera admired their handiwork together. The yellow bin was full of broken glass, damp paper towels and handful of coloured tablets. The redhead threw her companion a glance through a fringe of short hair. “I didn’t mean what I said by the way,” she stated. Jennifer hauled a hand through equally short raven locks. Though Kiera had meant what she had said, Jennifer took solace in that fact that she cared enough to try and take it back.

“You did.”

Kiera’s forehead creased slightly. “But you can see where I'm coming from. You shouldn’t let people get to you. People are dickheads.”

“Like Damon Baird?”

“Especially Damon Baird,” Kiera said firmly.

Jennifer smiled slightly. “You should really go Kiera. I don’t want to get you into any more trouble.”

“Don’t worry about that Jen, trouble always finds me without or without your help. See you later?”

“If I haven’t messed something else up.” Try as she might, Jennifer could hide the bitterness in her voice.

“Don’t worry Jen, your day will come. Mine did.”

Jennifer felt even more deflated. “You’re a General’s daughter. You’re supposed to be good.”

Kiera scowled as if Jennifer were being deliberately dense. “So are you.”

“My dad was just a commander,” she replied carelessly.

“Same thing. You’d think you’d be a little prouder of your old man.” Jennifer said nothing in response. Personally, she felt that there was nothing to be proud of by dying via a Ticker.

Kiera turned and left the dark haired woman alone to finish her task. Jennifer looked to the right and found the several hundred medical kits that needed filled with supplies before the big push. It was disheartening to say the least that it was the only task that Jennifer was entrusted to do, and even then she somehow managed to botch up. Jennifer could almost hear what Marko would be saying to the field medic who trained her: “She’s useless and clumsy. I swear if it wasn’t for her family’s service record as a whole, I would have booted her out on her pretty little ass long ago.” Tears pricked at her eyes. It hardly seemed fair. Why should she have to live up to their standards just because of her last name?

Lifting up her thick framed glasses, Jennifer wiped her bitter blue orbs and started on her next assignment. She reached for the first white steel case stamped with a red cross inside a crimson cog and snapped it open. It contained a few basic supplies but Jennifer was expected to add to it. Each med-kit would nearly at least four shots of Bio-foam, two or three bottles of Morphine and a pair of long teethed tweezers; perfect for pulling out bullets from deep wounds.

She had only finished filling her seventy fifth container when the ground beneath Jennifer suddenly rumbled. The medic froze, her skin shuddering in anticipation.

It was maybe two seconds – three at the most before all hell suddenly broke loose inside the hospital. Sirens suddenly screamed out over head, distant shouts echoed off the walls and plaster started to crack away from the ceiling. Jennifer bit her lip nervously and looked up. Jacinto Base Hospital was fragile enough without having to stand against Reever bombings. All Jennifer could hope that it didn’t cave in on her.

Another Medic appeared at the door, shoulders heaving as if he had just been running. “Anderson. Get some gear together.”

“What, why?” She asked, still rooted to the spot. The other soldier stepped over the med-kits and hauled her to her feet as if she weighed less than a rag doll. It was not surprising. Jennifer looked so much like a china doll and most likely weighed the same that it was a miracle she had not snapped her in two. “The Locust have launched an attack against the hospital. We’ve got to get out of here before we get overrun. Take only the morphine and Bio-foam. Anything else can be replaced.” He kicked open a nearly empty container that was large enough to store several med-kits. Without a second word, he tossed eight or nine kits into the empty crate like it was all routine to him. Once it was full, he snapped the lid shut again.

“Please, let me – “ the Medic cut her off by grasping the crate by its handles then holstering it right off the ground. “Help,” Jennifer trailed off.

He turned back to her, painfully obvious that he was in a hurry. “What are you trying to do? Catch flies. I don’t have time for this Anderson.”

Jennifer came crashing back to earth with a thud. “Coming!”

COG Serial number: SG-M.F.101010174656
Current Time: 13:45
Current Location: Jacinto Base Hospital.

Inside Jacinto’s base hospital, Marcus gave the communicator on his ear a quick tap.

“Still there Anya?”

Marcus heard a buzz from the other end, indicating that the blonde was in a busy area. “Still here Marcus. Tell Dom that I may have a lead on Maria but it doesn’t look good.”

The very foundations of the hospital suddenly quivered and rumbled as if they were threatening to cave in on top of them. His long time friend and companion, Dominic Santiago, looked up at the hovering robot in desperation. “Anya what did you find?”

“A lead on a Jane Doe but it doesn’t look like – “ The area rumbled again, small bits of plaster and dust failing down around the pair of Gears. Marcus hoped that the hospital could hold it together. It would have certainly put a downer on the squad leader’s day if the only functioning hospital left in Jacinto collapsed on top of him. On the other end of the connection, Anya started to cut off.

“What Anya?”

On the tiny screen, Anya looked behind her in desperation. Even Marcus could see that people were fleeing the room she occupied. “I’ll fill you in later Dom. I have to get back to control.”

Marcus stiffened slightly. “Alright Anya, good luck.”

Dom grasped his Lancer so tightly that Marcus was sure it would snap. “Damn it. I’ll kill every one of these god damned grubs,” he hissed, the hate and anger practically eradiating off him as if he were a hunk of uranium. Marcus made a move to place a hand on his friends shoulder but thought better of it. “Come on, let’s go.” Marcus motioned towards a set of double doors to the right. Coupled with both old-age and ill-maintenance, they protested and hissed when they slid open. On the other side of the doors was the crouched, tattooed Gear known as Tai. Like every other COG soldier, Tai roughly weighed the same as a tank in both bulk and height. Large, bold tattoos adorned every square inch of his arms and crept up his face in an intimidating manner.

Sensing the presence behind him, Tai rose to face the other two Gears. Dark brown eyes that could be as harsh as winter winds or an warm as the gentle sun blinked back at Marcus and Dom. “Ah Marcus. It has been far too long.” Tai was a veteran soldier, sported an impressive service record and on the hit list of any self-respecting Locust – beneath Marcus Fenix of course. Many Locust would like nothing better to have the sergeants head mounted upon the wall with a plaque underneath reading: “Problem solved.”

“Good to have you with us Tai. What are we looking at?”

The tattooed man gestured forward with a nod. “Locust raid. Follow me.”

Dom fell into place by Marcus’s side. “The Locust have some serious sacks coming in here.”

“I doubt it has anything to do with courage. They just don’t realise they’ve been sent on a suicide mission,” Tai added.

“Maybe they’re just desperate,” Marcus suggested before checking to make sure he was carrying enough grenades.

“What do you mean?”

Marcus looked at Dom as if the answer should have been obvious. “Well, maybe the Lightmass bombing hit them harder than we thought. Or maybe something else is going down in the Hollow. I dunno.” The group came into a foyer that had many dozens of patients lying out on stretchers. Brown lime covered the ground, glistening in the halogen lighting. Marcus could practically feel their pain in the air. As he passed one patient, a loud and crunching cough escaped the chest of an old man. It sounded as if something were alive inside his chest and was struggling to break free. Marcus shrunk back slightly, sticking closer to Dom.

“What do you say these patients have?” Dom asked.

Tai looked towards the foyer of patients and grimaced. “Rust Lung. Imulsion sickness. Cases have been cropping up since the Lightmass bombing. A few doctors and Medics have been trying to find a cure but they haven’t been successful. It is a horrible way for a warrior to die.”

“Contagious?”

“They say it isn’t but I keep my distance.”

“No argument there.”

Just as they headed down another stretch of, the all too sickeningly familiar growl of the Locust Horde ground into Marcus’s eardrums.

“We have confirmed Locust contact. I repeat, Locust are in the hospital,” Anya announced into

Marcus signalled to Delta and they scattered, taking position behind concrete walls and foundations. Like the plague that they were, Locust horde thrummed out through a set of double doors. He shoved a clip of ammo into his Lancer with an audible growl. A hailstorm of bullets rained overhead so thickly and fiercely that Marcus half pie considered getting out an umbrella. He wondered briefly why on earth the Locust had changed their attack patterns. It was not often that the pasty coloured, homicidal monsters struck so close and hard to Jacinto. They usually struck in quick but brutal raids in the cities surrounding Jacinto, rarely the human stronghold itself. Nothing about the situation made any kind of remote sense. Off to his left, Dom was crouched behind an unturned table and was no better off. Marcus knew that Dom had his doubts as well. His long time friend and pseudo brother was smart enough to put the pieces together just as he had. Somewhere on the other side of the level, Tai was churning up a storm with his shotgun. Marcus heard each shot make contact.

A semi-sentient robot, Jack hovered next to Marcus in Combat Alert. Only a simmering, translucent ghost indicated that the robot was still with them. “Marcus, what do you hear?” The bandanna-clad man tapped the communicator mounted onto his ear, linking communications to the blonde woman on the other end of the line. Many times had Marcus been extremely grateful Anya Stroud. She had been a solid and calm voice of reason during desperate times. “Nothing but the rain Anya.”

“Grab your gun and bring in the cat.”

“Wilco. Delta out.”

Concentrating fully on the task at hand, Marcus popped up from cover and sent a storm of his own bullets in the general direction of the Locust Drones. They hit the first wave with sickeningly satisfying accuracy, eager to find a home inside grey freckled skin but the second wave of Drones escaped the barrage. The Locust soldiers fell back, retreating out of the swinging double doors. In his time as a COG soldier, Marcus had been taught to treat every battle like a chess game. It was all about tactics and strategies, defending your soldiers and manoeuvring them into stronger positions.

They worked together as a single unit, pushing the invading Locust into a bottleneck. They had little chance to escape. Delta was brutal at best of times but Marcus felt his team put even more pressure than usual on the Locust. Perhaps it was because they were hitting so close to home.

When they had pushed the Locus right back into the north wing, Marcus reined his squad in. He signalled to Dom to fling in a smoke grenade into one entrance and ordered Tai to throw another. The grenades detonated with a bang and haze of wispy smoke soon seeped into the foyer beyond. Seconds after the blast, Dom and Tai dived through one set of the double doors with raised rifles. It was as easy as flushing out rabbits. A few Locust attempted to escaped through the fire exit but Marcus cut them off with a tempest of steel. “Let’s see how you like it,” Marcus growled and fed a second clip of ammo into his trusted Lancer.

Suddenly and without any warning, the glass window’s to the east of Marcus suddenly exploded with a roar. Shards of glass the length and thickness of a Gear’s arm spread out in almost every direction like clear rain. Marcus had less than seconds to dive into cover unless the Delta squad leader wanted to become a human pincushion. The wall he was crouched was old and worn but took every impact with room for more. The only single benefit to the Gears was that the escaping Locust had been nailed to the walls opposite by glass shards.

A Raven hovered up a few seconds later.

“This is KR-75, can you verify if Locust are in the hospital. Over.”

Marcus tapped into his Tac/Com, furious that he had almost been speared by flying glass. “Airhead! Of course we do! We have Gears and Civilians in this building as well! Watch where you’re bombing!”

The pilot of the flying machine, Sergeant Charlie “Airhead” O’Rielly snorted over the Com. “Alright alright. Don’t a cow Fenix.”

When the squad leader opened his mouth to say something rude, Anya tactfully intervened over the Com radio as if she had heard the thought rushing through Marcus’s brain. “Rodger that Airhead. We have Reevers inbound from the north side. All Ravens, Scramble I repeat, Scramble. All units on high alert.”

Airhead let out a whoop of laughter over the Tac/Com. “Alright Control, KR-75 is on it. Our bird is hungry after all. Jelly, fire up the guns.” The sergeant growled but let the pilot slid off without a fight. Marcus had little time for Airhead. He was a good enough pilot, that much Marcus could admit and he had lasted longer than most. He had been appropriately named for everyone figured that he was full of hot air when he first showed up at Basic, claiming to be the next best Raven Jockey. Though his skills matched his bragging, the name stuck and became his Call Sign. Marcus knew little of his co-pilot and gunner, Gillian “Jelly” Carter; only that she was the polar opposite of him.

It did not take long to clear out the surgery and even less time to clean out the supplies stronghold. They continued to press forward and out into the streets beyond the hospital with fierce determination, leaving no Locust Drone or Grenadier standing. Bodies piled up high. Guns littered the ground beneath their booted feet. Thick pools of blood in every direction, staining the gravel a deep red. “The Locust are likely to be about the streets around the hospital. Get ready Delta!” Marcus shouted out towards his soldiers. Dom and Tai were way ahead of him. They took position around the courtyard, Lancers tearing up whatever they could see. Over the sirens and gunfire, Marcus heard what he could have only described as the thunderous beating of incest wings against the air.

It took a few moments for Marcus’s brain to register what exactly he was hearing.

And it chilled him right down to the bone.

“Reevers!”

Spider-like in its design, the Reever slammed into the earth and two other unfortunate Gears that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Eight powerful limbs holstered it’s body upright, giving the beast an advantage against the remaining soldiers. Rockets exploded out of the Reever’s guns, alighting the courtyard in orange flames. Nearly Dom and Tai had been completely pinned up the Locust chain gunner. They could not even make any attempt at blind fire. Marcus reached for his belt and grasped a Frag grenade between his fingers. Crouched down behind a stone hedge, Marcus pulled the pin, waited two seconds then threw it overhead towards the eight legged freak. As the sergeant had predicted, it exploded against the scaly skinned creature and proved an ample distraction. The Reaver rounded onto Marcus. The Squad leader rolled backwards to avoid a rocket to the face. “Come Dom. Come on.”

Answering the call, Dom and Tai popped up from behind their cover and tore up the sides of the Reaver with their Lancers. Bullet holes exploded with rivets of blood, pouring out like a scarlet waterfall. The Reever reared back in pain and bucked the riders off. The two Locust riders fell to the ground with a hard crunch and did not get up. Before Dom and Tai could reload, the Reever took to the skies once again.

Marcus pressed his Tac/Com. “Anya, Reever has just escaped the courtyards.”

“Don’t worry Marcus. I’ll have one of the guard dogs chase it down. Seems KR- Seven Five is in the area.”

“No surprises there. Right Delta, let’s keep pushing through.”

“Delta, I have reports that more Locust are in the streets beyond the hospital. Can you assist?”

“Rodger that Control, we’re on it.” The soldiers continued onwards, Marcus taking point as usual. There was no one better qualified to do so.

The next port of call was the cafeteria and as the soldiers had expected, it was completely brimming with Locust activity. The enemy squad was at least double their size but Marcus had faith in Dom and Tai. They were worth twenty Locust warriors on their own. If anyone could punch a hole in the Locust’s defensive barrier, it would be Delta. Time and time again, Delta cut through the Locust force like a hot knife through butter. Marcus’s heart sang beneath his armour, positively thriving on the heat of the battle. Had he not have been fighting so intently, Marcus might have felt the same way.

As they pushed back into the second complex of the hospital, Delta was surprised to find the rookie Benjamin Carmine in one of the corridors leading out into the streets beyond.

Marcus was pissed to say the least. He had enough crap to deal with without having to worry about Carmine losing his head the same way his brother had. “What the fuck are you doing here rook?” Marcus barked. The ever-polite, ever-cheerful private raised his Lancer slightly. “The area I was guarding got too hot sir so some Gears rounded me up to fight.”

“Then why aren’t you out there fighting?” Sergeant Fenix ground out, furious for no apparent reason.

“Still reloading Sarge, still haven’t got that trick down yet.”

Dom looked out the window and signalled to Marcus. “Better learn fast rook. Let’s get out there Delta.”

Outside the hospital was complete pandemonium. Bodies were throwing all over the place, the sky overhead was buzzing with Ravens locked in brutal combat with Reevers and various Gears desperately tried to push the invading Locust back. Nearly, Dom rolled into cover just in time to avoid losing his head. Marcus slammed another clip of ammo into his Lancer. She was greedy bitch and he was running low on ammo. Now if only Lancer ammo could magically respawn, they would be away and laughing.

When yet another Reever suddenly crashed down to earth a few metres away, Marcus did not feel like laughing at all. He checked his ammo supply. He did not nearly have enough to take down yet another Reever. It seemed that the beast knew this for it quickly set its eight-eyed sight on the squad leader.

Over his Tac/Com, Anya buzzed in his ear. “This is control requesting reinforcements in Sector 4.”

Another voice joined Anya on the line. “Rodger that Anya, KR- Seven Five is in the area.”

The Raven in question dropped out of the sky like a sort of metal guardian angel and for once, Marcus was glad to hear Airhead on the other line. The wings ejected out the side of the aircraft and the gunner Jelly let rip a barrage of steel that left the air thick with bullets. While the chainguns tore up the Reever, rockets were released on the remaining forces. Each made contact with a cluster of Locust soldiers and blew their remains sky high.

“Damn, that was a nice car too,” Dom commented.

The Locust started to fall back from the streets, shooting blindly as they went. Marcus doubted they would hit anything. It was difficult enough to make killer shots while you were stationary, it was another story entirely if one was running backwards. The King Raven followed up behind them, reducing any injured stragglers to hamburger meat.

Delta cautiously peered out from their hiding spots, watching the Locust retreat. Marcus gave the all clear.

“Never seen them run like that,” Dom stated before raising his Lancer once more. “Running won’t help! I’ll just shoot you in your asses!” he hollered out at retreating Locus. Just for good measure, Dom squeezed his trigger and sent several bullets sailing their way.

Marcus quirked an eyebrow. “You are pissed off today.”

Dom spun around to face his companion, anger storming on his face. “Damn right! I miss my family! I’ll kill every one of these god damned grubs.”

“Nice work Delta. And Rook, Carmine you did good today.”

Carmine’s visor brightened at the comment. “Oh, Thank you sergeant Fenix,” he chirped happily and turned for an expectant high five from Tai. The tattooed man merely blinked at the excitable young Private and pointed his shotgun in Carmine’s direction as if he expected the kid to try and hug him. “Control, Delta here. Enemy threat is eliminated. Over.”

Jack reappeared from his cloaking field and a small screen unfolded from his metal body. A fifteen inch Anya stared out at them, looking visibly relieved that all of Delta were relatively unscathed. “Copy that Delta. Good job.”

“Everything okay on your end?” Marcus asked, an edge of concern lining his gruff voice.

“Yeah. It was pretty close but I got out in time.”

Dom joined Marcus’s side. “What did you find on Maria Anya?”

The blonde looked away nervously, unsure just how to answer. “I...”

“Tell me Anya. Don’t bullshit me,” Dom stated fiercely, his stomach flopping about like a fish.

“The Jane Doe I mentioned. She fits the description but...Well, it seems like she was released a few days ago. We don’t have anything else on her,” Anya explained, checking through her notes just to make sure that she had not made a mistake. Marcus highly doubted it. Anya never made such mistakes. She was a very organised person.

“But there’s gotta be something else, another lead right?” Dom questioned, the desperation written clearly across his face and echoing in his voice.

Anya looked pained, almost helpless. “I’m sorry Dom...That’s it. I’m sorry.”

It was as if Dom had become an empty tumbler and liquid red rage was poured into his veins. Before anyone could utter a word, Dom turned and smashed his Lancer into the window of a broken car so quickly and fiercely that Carmine nearly jumped right out of his armour. Dom then proceeded to kick the door of the innocent car until it caved in under the force of his impacts. When he suddenly stilled, no one dared to say anything to him. The rookie Carmine looked to Marcus for help.

“Copy that Anya. Delta out.”

The squad leader clicked off his Tac/Com and approached his shuddering friend. “You okay Dom?”

Dom raised a hand towards Marcus but kept his forehead pressed against the frame of the vehicle. “Just...I’ll catch up with you in a second Marcus.”

“Yeah, whatever you need,” Marcus said with a nod then indicated to the other two Gears. “Guys, let’s move out. Hot showers on me!”

Carmine let out a cheer and went scampering on ahead like a puppy dog off the leash with Tai following closely on behind. Marcus slung his Lancer onto his back and cast a weary glance towards his distressed companion. “We’ll be at the Barracks,” he stated. Dom only dipped his head slightly, barely even hearing the squad leader.

“Not again.”

COG Serial number: PV-J.A.010101011992
Current Time: 20:15
Current Location: Jacinto, COG Barracks.

“And that was when he just lifted this crate off the ground like it weighed nothing.”

Kiera looked up from her plate lazily. “Really?”

The woman frowned across the mess hall dinner table. They were in the one of the COG barracks, somewhere in the center of Jacinto. It was one of the few places that soldiers could retreat and catch some sleep or food before jumping right back into the fray. The complex was larger than most buildings in the city which was quite rightly so. It could house up to several thousand soldiers each with enough food to feed each one. After coming from a lavished upbringing, the barracks were still a touch too crowded for Jennifer Anderson but home enough for Kiera Sullivan. The Ex-stranded woman was just happy to have somewhere to get a decent nap and hot food.

The metal dinner tray in front of her lay forgotten for Jennifer was far too pent up to eat. Her companion eyed the bowl of strawberry jelly still sitting on Jennifer’s plate. “You going to eat that?” she asked, gesturing towards the dessert. Jennifer slid the bowl forward, an inkling of disgust on her face.

Kiera dug into the plate of strawberry jelly. “I have no idea how exactly you can eat that stuff. It’s hardly strawberry jelly,” the raven haired woman pointed out.

“It’s strawberry flavoured actually.”

Jennifer quirked her head to the side, blinking out behind thick frames. “It sort of looks like the inside of someone’s stomach to be honest. It glistens in that very same way.”

Kiera let out a groan and suddenly pushed the dish away with disgust. “Oh hate it when you do that,” she stated with a scowl.

“Do what?” Jennifer asked innocently.

“Go all morbid and clinical on me. It’s fucking weird.”

Jennifer one. Kiera Zero.

“Oh I’m sorry.”

“No you’re bloody well not,” the redhead fired back, petulant that Jennifer had put her off eating a perfectly good dessert. “Now I won’t be able to look at jelly the same way.”

“Well now you know how I feel about custard. Remember when you put cold custard inside Baird’s boots when he was in the showers?” Jennifer was certain that they both remembered that moment very clearly. Never had they seen the Corporal so very furious.

Kiera grinned widely and cast a glance over her armoured shoulder. There was no mistaking that bleach blonde haired head and goggles. A few feet behind the two females was Sigma squad tucking into some well deserved dinner; plates piled high on the table and on the ground around them. Jennifer how they could eat so much without bursting at the seams. “Yeah and we heard that really loud, audible squelch from the other side of the room.”

“Remember what he did afterwards? He caught me, tipped it out on my head then hung me upside down in an armour locker.” Jennifer fired back at her friend. She had learnt after that day never to cross the bad tempered, mouthy blonde.

“He deserved it though Jen. He’s always pushing you around.” Kiera replied with a frown.

“I know but now you know why I don’t like custard. It was so embarrassing when Sergeant Fenix was the one who found me and helped me down. Every other Gear already thinks I’m a complete loser. Once that got around, I was a complete laughing stock.” Jennifer stated, sinking back down into her chair as if she hoped she could disappear completely.

“You’re not a loser Jen.”

“I’m a semi-loser then.”

“Keep thinking like that Jen and you will be.” Though Kiera sounded as light hearted as possible, Jennifer still felt the sting of the comment. To say that she was insecure would have been the understatement of the century. Living under ones renowned older brother for nearly ten years would do that to someone. Three years later after William Anderson’s unsightly demise, Jennifer still possessed an inferiority complex the size of a Brumak. Kiera looked at Jennifer thoughtfully.

“I’ve upset you again haven’t I?”

Jennifer said nothing and pushed away from the table, determined not to look remotely upset. “No, I’m just tired. I think I’ll go and get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Though she was clearly unconvinced, Kiera did not push the subject. “Night Jen. Don’t let the Locust bite.”

“Goodnight Kiera.” With a weary head and even wearer heart, Jennifer left the mess hall and headed back down to the right wing of the barracks where most of the privates slept; two to a room. Corporals and higher often had their own quarters but it was not unusual to find a Sergeant or lieutenant crashed out in one of the spare rooms. They were often far too tired to even notice the difference. Jennifer, like every other private, had been given a trunk and bed in the barracks. It was their own responsibility to keep them tidy and if possible, clean. As a complete neat freak, Jennifer washed everything she owned nearly twice a week – or more if she had been having a particularly stressful week. So far, Jennifer had lucky enough to have a room to herself. For some unfathomable reason, Jennifer’s fellow privates seemed to avoid her as if her incompetence was contagious.

Just looking to get the day over with and hit the showers, Jennifer wretched the door open and stepped inside her room.

There was only a slight problem.

It was certainly not as empty nor tidy has she had left it that morning.

A helmeted Gear peered up at her from the spare bed, his body language seemingly sheepish underneath his armour. He was surrounded by various possessions and nick-knacks that were looking to find a home on the bookshelf opposite. A Lancer and long scoped rifle lay on the trunk on the end of the bed, a clear indication that he was an intended frontline soldier. He scrambled up from the bed, the springs groaning in protest. “Oh hello. You must be Jennifer Anderson. I’m Ben Carmine. I’m your new bunkmate,” he stated before offering the woman his hand. He sounded very young, possibly only Jennifer’s age or younger. The medic extended her own, shook his hand then released it abruptly as if he were burning.

If he had noticed, he was good natured enough to say anything.

“Sorry to impose in on you Anderson but they said this was only spare bed tonight.” The Gear stopped and looked around the small but homely quarters that Jennifer had been slowly adding to. “Can’t figure out why though,” he added, tone so light hearted that Jennifer was sure he was smiling underneath his helmet. Jennifer was tongue tied by even being in the immediate area of him, never mind trying to say something. Taking her silence in his step, Carmine continued to prattle on about the Landown mission; sounding much like a child going to a toy store. He flopped down on the bunk opposite, not bothering to remove his armour. For that, Jennifer was thankful. She was not entirely sure her blood pressure could have taken it.

“You going on the Landown mission?” he asked, hands braced behind his helmet. The woman slid her own bed and picked up a complicated diagram of the human heart she had been studying the night before.

“No,” Jennifer answered.

He rolled onto his side, clearly curious. “Why? You’re a medic right?” the helmet dipped slightly, taking in her trademark white armour.

Jennifer looked up from her book and adjusted her glasses slightly. “I...have to stay here,” she replied, her cheeks reddening slightly.

“Well that would suck. I figured that they would need all the medics they can get.”

“So did I,” was all Jennifer could muster.

Silence overtook the pair again, this time a touch more comfortable and less awkward. Carmine picked up an old, battered alarm clock and placed it on the bedside table. “You don’t talk too much do you?” The woman continued to stare at her diagram. She recalled what Kiera had said about people countless times: You need to give them something to work with Jen. Engage with them. Be honest with them. Do something apart from being silent. You could die tomorrow Jen so just live every day like its you last. That’s what I do.

Kiera did that a little too well.

“Sorry, I’m just a little shy sometimes,” Jennifer stated honestly, feeling like a toddler again. The Gear’s shoulders sagged with obvious relief.

“Oh right. I thought I might have upset you. I do that a lot." He reached up and scratched the nap of his neck in an almost nervous manner. It then occured to Jennifer that perhaps the soldier was just as nervous as she were.

The woman managed to smile despite herself. His good mood was infectious. “Your name is Carmine?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you...Were you a relation to Anthony Carmine?”

Carmine looked up with interest, clearly curious. The blue visor of his helmet seemed to glow that little bit brighter. “He was my twin, did you know him?”

“He came in for stitches once,” she replied before smiling softly. “You’re just like him.”

“Wow. He must have made a real impression for you to remember him. I'm not surprised." The young soldier dipped his head slightly.

Jennifer reddened slightly at the comment, unsure where to place herself. “It-It wasn’t like that. I just don't a name. He was real nice.”

"Yup, that sounds like Anthony but he was a terror when we were little. We used to swap clothes when we got to school. Drove our teacher crazy.”

Jennifer put down the diagram she had been studying and pulled her legs up against her chest, secretly thrilled. She liked Anthony Carmine. He was nice and polite and very patient when she whist she had been doing his stiches.“Where is Anthony now? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

The helmeted Gear tensed up slightly on the bed and clasped his hands together as if contemplating something serious. “He died six months ago.”

Jennifer’s heart jumped right into her throat. Anthony Carmine? Dead? Why had she not heard of that sooner. “I’m so sorry. I didn't know," she managed to squeeze out.

Carmine's shouldered dipped slightly. “It’s okay. At least he died a hero’s death. I've got his with him tags, wanna see?”

"Sure."

Carmine sat up properly and started searching through his frayed sack of the pair of COG tags, talking all the while. "When he died, they sent us his Tags. My Ma figured it was better if I kept them. He was my other half after all." He pulled them out from a side pocket and held the gleaming tags up to the light on the thin chain. "I'm gonna wear them tomorrow, for good luck," he stated before tossing them to Jennifer. She missed and they dropped to the ground with a clang.

She scrabbled to pick them up, her face an unflattering beatroot red. “My brother died as well. I never got his Tags though,” she remarked, tracing the serial number gently.

“Oh, gosh. That's not very good. You should have fought for them, gone to command or something."

“It didn't bother me at the time. My brother and I weren’t close. He was...disappointed that I was a girl I think." Jennifer did not bother to add that he was disappointed with her in general.

The rookie nodded in an understanding way. “My Ma wanted girls. She got four boys instead. We were all really close and stuck together to protect one another. Guess it was because our dad had died when me and Anthony were toddlers.” Jennifer felt a stab on envy and struggled to suppress it. How great it must have been, to have someone to knew you better than you knew yourself and would protect you no matter what. Nearly every other soldier whom had siblings in the COG army were close to each other. All apart from Jennifer and her older and prestigious brother William. Carmine rolled onto his back once again and laced his hands across his chest.

“Well, we should probably get some shut eye. We have a big day tomorrow.” He looked at her. “I’m sure you’ll do your part too and make your family proud,” he added quickly.

Jennifer flicked out the light and stared at the ceiling. “Yes. Proud.”

Maria had since long lost track of time. The days had become nothing but grains of sand in her memory. Minutes crawled by and hours always seemed eternity away. Inside the cramped and dark holding cell, Maria Santiago shivered from both the cold and immense fear. The frozen, damp metal soaked through her clothing, chilling Maria right down to the marrow in her bones. Her legs ached from sitting cramped for so long. Her stomach rumbled and growled as loudly as a Wretch but none of it matter anymore. Things like warmth and food and solid comfort meant nothing when one knew they could die any minute. She told herself to be brave, trying to fool herself into believing that she were as fearless as her companion Anya.

And for a while, she had been. Maria had lashed out against her captors, kicked them in the shins when they approached her and screamed abuse at them until she was completely blue in the face.

That morning, Maria had pushed her luck and tried to stab a Locust Drone with his own knife. She would have succeeded had the Locust in question not turned around just in time. She had expected to be tortured and killed for such an act of defiance. She had seen fellow prisoners slaughtered for much less. Instead, the Locust overseeing her work camp seemed to think that her attempts at retaliation highly amusing. They even used a special name for her, Munnnaki and enjoyed using it around her. A woman whom had been a professor of languages before said it sounded very tribal. Maria got a chance to ask what it meant for the professor was taken deeper into the Locust city.

And no one ever came back from there.

Outside the holding cell in the Locust underworld of Nexus, she heard the rattle and crunching of the lock on the holding cell. Maria scrabbled on broken heeled sandals just as the door swung. A Locust Drone was staring at her with beady yellow eyes. He was a male, that much was for certain and seemed to expand in every direction. He had white skin dappled with flecks of grey that put Maria in mind of a fresh snowfall on concrete. On his chest and arms, inky tattoos decorated him that looked like they belonged on a totem pole or a mural. They seemed too perfect and intricate to adorn the body of a warrior who could easily perish the next day. Like his kin, he was armed to the teeth with a Hammerburst, Gorgon pistol and multiple grenades.

Mustering whatever courage she could, Maria openly glared. “May I help you?”

The Locust Drone said nothing and reached for the pack strapped to his belt. For a wild moment, Maria was sure that he was going to shoot her. But instead of withdrawing a pistol, the Locust produced a canteen of liquid. He held it to Maria, vacant stare all the while. The captive was visibly shocked, unsure whether or not to take the canteen of water.

When she still made no move for the canteen, the Drone glanced over his shoulder quickly then shook the container again. “Drink,” he commanded, the characteristic Locust hiss evident in his voice.

With trembling fingers, Maria reached out and grasped the offering tightly. The Drone continued to watch her as she pulled back and unscrewed the cap. Maria sniffed the rim carefully, wondering briefly if it were poisoned. Maria shelved her concerns and tipped her head back. Cool, refreshing and more importantly clean liquid slid down her dry throat and it was several seconds before Maria released just how thirsty she was.

When the canteen was half empty, Maria managed to stop herself and made an effort to hand it back to the Drone. To her great astonishment, the Locust Drone held a hand up.

“You may keep it,” he hissed. More than happy to comply, Maria clutched the contained to her chest.

“Who are you?”

The Locust soldier looked over his shoulder again then back to the human captive. “Ragnarok,” he replied, placing a hand on dappled skin. Maria quirked her dark haired head to the side and tried to repeat his name. He said it twice more before finally nodding when Maria managed to get her tongue around the complex Locust pronunciation.

“Thank you Ragnarok,” she said as politely as she could, considering the circumstances.

Why are you thanking your enemy!? It’s his fault we’re even here!

The Locust Drone said nothing else and quickly shut the door on Maria again. She heard the all too familiar sound of a lock being clicked back into place then the heavy footsteps leaving her holding cell. It was not until they had faded completely did Maria crouch back down into the darkness once more, her head swimming with questions. Never had she seen the Locust be even remotely tolerant of humans, yet alone help one. It didn’t make sense. Were the Locust just toying with her? Attempting to gain her trust only to squish her again. Would they cut off the rest of her hair tomorrow? Inside her narrow prison, Maria felt morbid excitement coupled with sheer dread.

She could not wait to tell Dom what had happened.

COG Serial number: SG-M.F.101010174656
Current Time: 07:00
Current Location: Jacinto, Landing pads.

If there was one thing that Marcus Fenix hated more than Locust, it was tardiness. He despised it when his soldiers were late. They had a war to win damnit! He, Dom and the rook should have taken off by now and be well on their way to Landown. Instead, he was stuck waiting for Delta’s Medic to hurry up. Inside the cockpit of the King Raven he was leaning against, Airhead and Jelly were getting impatient. Marcus could hardly blame him. His own temper was simmering away like a pot long since overboiled.

Dom was at his side, eager to get underway as well. Nothing was worse than sitting twiddling your thumbs. “I wonder where that medic has got to?” he asked.

Marcus glanced at his digital display. The field Medic was nearly twenty minutes overdue. Nearly every other Raven had already shipped out. “Fuck, I half tempted to take off without her.”

“Anya will give you an earful if you do,” Dom cautioned, checking his Lancer for the seventh time that morning.

“Let her try,” Marcus grumbled half-heartedly, thoroughly unimpressed that the medic was late. He had not even wanted one to begin with but Anya had insisted it upon him “It’s just as a precaution Marcus,” She had said in the sweetest tone possible. Marcus had unwillingly melted in the blonde’s gloved hands and reluctantly agreed to keep her happy. The last thing the squad leader of Delta needed was a grumpy and fractious Anya.“I’ll give that damn Medic five more minutes then we’re taking off.”

“Alright, but don’t bitch at me if Anya hauls you across the coals.” Marcus threw his companion a very hard glare indeed and turned his attention back to the King Raven. They were magnificent machines to say the least. Sleek, aerodynamic and armed to the teeth with thousands of bullets and hundreds of rockets, they had sent many Locust running for the hills when they showed up. The only problem with the birds was which the manoeuvrability. As a helicopter, Raven’s could not dodge or roll quickly enough to avoid rockets. Spider-like creatures fondly known as Reevers could often take down several in a heartbeat.

Carmine was sitting on the side of the flying machine, legs swinging against the Raven’s metal belly and humming away to himself. Marcus wondered just how exactly he managed to stay so cheerful and chipper. Marcus wished he had a rose coloured visor as well.

It was not until he heard the hurried footsteps of another soldier did he finally relax slightly. Marcus peered over the heads of his fellow soldiers, searching for the trademark white of the COG medics. It did not take long before he saw a small woman hurrying towards them with carrying two or three med-kits. Despite his anger, Marcus cocked an eyebrow as the Medic dodged through the crowds towards his Raven. She was very little and looked as if she belonged on a toyshop shelf instead of fighting a war. She also seemed oddly familiar, as if they had met before somewhere...

Marcus did not dwell on the matter for very long. Female or not, he intended to give the woman a good piece of his mind.

“You’re late!” he yelled at the private the moment she arrived.

The little medic jumped as if an electrical current had just surged through her. She peered up at him through thick lenses that made her eyes seem twice as large as normal. “S-sir?!”

Marcus tapped his digital display, not bothering to hide his irritation. “We were supposed to be out of here twenty minutes ago! Where have you been?”

“I-I..don’t know what you mean Sir!” The squad leader rolled his eyes and marched forward.

“Don’t play dumb with me private. Lift off was twenty fucking minutes ago. Now get on the Raven!” Before the woman could protest, Marcus Fenix grasped her by the back of her chest plate and hauled her towards the Raven. “Please! Let me explain sir! I’m not who – “

“How about a little less talking and a little more getting the hell on that Raven soldier!” he ground out before he tossed her into the spare seat and signalled to the Raven’s pilot. Airhead let out a whoop of relief and spun up the engines. Dom and Marcus strapped themselves onto one side with Carmine and the woman on the other. Clearly terrified beyond belief, the little Medic tried her very best to escape the flying machine. “No no no, please don’t! I have a terrible fear of –“ Marcus never found out what the girl was afraid off for the deafening roar of the engines cut her off dead. The bird launched upwards off the ground, climbing higher and higher with each passing second. The medic squealed in fright and clung Carmine’s arm as if she feared she would fall right out. Over the deafening engines of the Raven, Dom hooted with laughter. Marcus rolled his eyes and massaged his temple.

It was going to be a long ride.

As you can see, I’ve changed a few bits here and there. I guess I should probably explain myself then.

1. Since Anthony and Benjamin Carmine as so similar, I decided to make them twins instead. Rebel I know.

2. Raven Callsigns. I’m not sure if anyone else noticed but I could never keep track of the Ravens in the game. I know something like that isn’t important to some but it bothered me. So I decided to give some life to pilots of the COG, give them callsigns so people know who is in the cockpit.

3. Maria. I always wondered what exactly happened to her down in Nexus so this is my attempt at giving Maria more of a part in the storyline.

4. Ragnarok (named for the FFVIII ship) The nice Locust whom actually quite likes humans, kinda like Fawkes the Super Mutant from Fallout 3. I look forward to writing more of him.

And I think that about covers it. You know what to do =)

Fire Out.