Author's note/ disclaimer: I do not own pelicans, warthogs, Spartans, or anything else to do with halo. This story is based after the covenant attack on harvest, before news of it reaches the entire UNSC.
P.S. every chapter will be from a different viewpoint, some repeating over time.
I ran across the battle field to the cries, carrying my field medical supplies. Bullets flew through as I ran; I was almost shot by both sides. I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder as I ran; I winced and proceeded to the screams of the wounded; it was only a graze. When I reached the crater that the bomb left, there were five bodies, three being our own men, the rest had been vaporized. There were two wounded, shrapnel had fortunately only caught in their arms and legs, a simple medical procedure. I ran to the first, who seemed to be the most endangered, because he had pulled some of the shrapnel out, he screamed as he lay bleeding to death. I rushed over and began to stop the bleeding; the man looked up at me, his jaw was clenched from the pain.
"Don't – don't bother with me." He forced out the words. "There are others that have more of a chance to survive." I was surprised that he could speak though the agony, and that he was not unconscious from the blood loss.
"Don't die now, Sarge," I replied, seeing his rank. "I will save as many people as I can, so long as they have the will to fight even death." He smiled at my determination. He pulled out a handgun and offered it to me.
"You're going to need this, son," He said, "If you want to survive out here." I smiled down to him as I tightened the final bandages.
"I can't shoot while I work," I said, declining the weapon. "But I guess I have you to watch my back." He nodded and sat up slightly, using his good arm to hold the gun. I knew that he could have a concussion and that he could slip into a coma if I let him pass out. So I gave him a purpose, something to feel responsible for. I ran to the other man and felt his pulse; he was in better condition than the sargent, I quickly pulled out the shrapnel and bandaged the open wounds, this one had not lost too much blood. There was a groan of pain from the other side of the crater, I looked and saw a man panicking over his wounded friend. I dragged the bandaged man I was helping over to where the other man was.
"I am going to scout ahead and see what is happening." I told him as I started to run across the crater to the broken building where the two men were.
"Don't shoot, I'm a medic," I announced as I came behind the man. He turned quickly with his gun, seeing an enemy soldier. "I can help him." He lowered his gun and I ran to the wounded man; he was biting down on the hilt of a knife, trying not to give away their position by crying out in pain. I saw two gunshot wounds; one was in the shoulder, and one in the stomach.
"Are these the only wounds you have?" I asked the man; he nodded, not bothering to attempt to speak. I opened my bag and filled a needle with morphine. This should help with the pain." I said, administering the drug. I started with the shoulder, knowing that the morphine needed to take effect before I tried to dig out the stomach bullet wound. The shoulder was a clean shot, the bullet went completely through. The same could not be said about the other bullet. I tightened the bandage around the shoulder, speaking to his friend.
"I need you to talk to him, distract him from the pain, I need to remove the bullet." The man kneeled next to the man and started talking. The ground shuddered as a bomb landed near us. I heard the man I was working on try to let out a chuckle, wincing at the pain. When I finally pulled the bullet out, the man groaned, the morphine only helping a bit. I quickly opened my bag and took out my canister of biofoam, sealing the wound. I bandaged the bullet hole and packed up my supplies.
"He should make it," I told the other man. "But you should take him to another medic and get him completely patched up."
"I don't understand," the man said. "Why do you help us? We are your enemies." I stopped walking and turned my head.
"I don't see any other living being as an enemy." The man had a look of regret. "I joined this war to help people." I slung my pack over my shoulder and walked back across the crater. I saw the wounded man with a beacon, he was sending a Morse code out. I listened and realized it was coordinates to our location, requesting a bomb strike.
"What are you doing?" I yelled at the man.
"I'm sending these rebels back into the cold void of outer space." He said grinning; we were behind the enemy lines, in an occupied air base. The man's eyes were tearing; I saw that the last man in his squad was dead, despite my analysis that he would survive longer. "You have a minute to get out if you can, I am sincerely sorry to have brought this upon you." I wanted to curse at him, but I just turned and ran back, needing to warn the other people. I was half way across the crater when the ground began to break apart. The bombs came from orbit. I reached the doorway to the building when it was hit with a bomb.
I groaned as I came back to consciousness, looking around at the mass that was left of the battle field from where I lay. I saw a body moving slightly a small distance from where I was; to my right was my bag. It was severely undamaged from the explosion. I tried to reach for it in vain as I discovered that my arm was missing. I focused on staying alive in order to save the wounded man, if nothing else. I reached for the bag with my left arm, pulling it in front of me as I tried to stand. The ground reached up to meet me as I fell back down. I looked to my right leg and saw that it would need to be amputated; that is if I were to survive. I turned back and began to pull myself to the other survivor, dragging both myself and the bag to the location. The man suffered from mostly burns; however, there was a large piece of the bomb lodged within his stomach and his legs were blown off, the wounds sealed from the heat of the explosion. I could barely see it, but it was the man whose friend I had helped. I grabbed the metal, holding the canister of biofoam in my mouth. I pulled and he cried out; I groaned as I felt my own wounds bleed. I filled the man's wound and saw him open his eyes to my efforts. I wore my false-hope medic grin as I fell to my side, holding my own beacon. A pelican soon came down in a search-and-rescue mission. The men spoke as they came out of the vehicle.
"Take that one for immediate medical attention!" They pulled me onto a stretcher and began to run me to the aircraft. I looked to the other man and saw he was lying dead, or so it would seem; I saw him slip a breath before the pelican doors closed.
"Keep him awake!" I felt the medic in the ship sealing my wounds when I began drifting off. "Stay awake, dammit!" I felt a large hand on my shoulder and I opened my eyes to a sight that was rare to witness, a Spartan. It wore the Spartan Recon helmet that gleamed in the room's light.
"Stay with us, soldier." Its voice was surprisingly human, surprisingly female. Despite the words, I felt myself slip into what I knew would be a coma.