BOOM!
A small squad of soldiers rush through a forest covered in snow, under assault by a small army of pirates on their tail.
A tall figure, a spry marine in dark black armor turns around and starts firing in short bursts. "Go, go go!"
A body drops, rolling down the hill followed by the blood of another coursing through the white snow beside him.
A small squad of four take cover behind some trees and piles of snow, a couple of their members taking a couple bolts to their shield, one of which grunts in anger and the other falls backward into the snow, a smoking hole in his back.
The roaring of shuttle repulsors rise as a small box rapidly descends to the LZ, earning the attention of the nearby pirates, their small arms fire scorching its paint job.
"Echo 5-1, this is Angel 24. We are nearing the LZ, bogeys at ten and eleven o'clock."
Panicking a little, a marine shouts, "come on, sarge! We gotta get the hell out of here!"
Horrified, one of the rookies shouts, "What about L/n?"
"Forget him! He's a casualty now! We gotta go!" The marine answers as he fires several short controlled bursts of concentrated energy bolts.
Panting heavily, the sergeant finds himself sprinting to the quickly finds himself running toward the incoming shuttle. His lungs burned through the constant influx of oxygen with each breath taken in. In his arm was a younger man, his armor melted, a portion of the flesh of his cheek singed and cauterized, blood leaking from his lips as he struggled to maintain consciousness.
The rest of the squad boarded the shuttle, readying themselves to receive their commanding officer. The two marines were just about there when the wounded man turned to his CO.
"Agh!" He groaned. "Come on, sarge. Just leave me. Get yourselves out."
"Don't talk like that, L/n. You're gonna watch those little boys of yours grow up."
The wounded marine smiled. "Heh. Little Conner, Kade, and Sam."
"That's it. Just think of them. You'll be okay."
An energy bolt ripped through the air with a subtle "thwip", piercing the marine's lung, the concussion of the blast ripping his heart from its place, the sinew and cartilage snapping rapidly, his body falling forward as he was about to sit down.
"Marcus!" one of the marines, Jenkins, shouted in anguish before turning to the pirate and filling him his with excess bullets.
Marcus fell to the floor, the door to the transport bay closing rapidly.
"Come on, kid. We're almost there. We're almost home. Just a little bit longer."
Marcus smiled, his teeth stained red with the blood that filled his lungs. Spitting the blood from mouth the best he can, he takes a breath and looks up into his CO's eyes.
"H-Hey, big boss."
"Hey, kid."
"I-If I don't make it..."
"You'll make it. Angel, what's our ETA?"
"20 minutes."
The door of the cockpit opened to reveal a young woman, the copilot. Approaching the sergeant, she placed a hand on his shoulder and whispered, "it's okay, Gustavo."
Gustavo's grip on his subordinate's hand tightened.
"I-If I don't m-make it...tell my boys...they were...the best thing to ever...happen to me."
Gustavo watched the light fade from Marcus's eyes, his grip slackening as it gently slipped from his CO's hand. Closing his eyes, he closes his friend's eyes, wishing for his friend to find peace.
"Fuck..." The rattling of the shuttle drowned out the curses of the squad, the blood drying on Marcus's corpse and on the floor.
"SSV Argus. This is Angel 24. We are away. All fireteam members accounted for."
"Roger that. Do you have the package?" Came the voice of Captain Petrenko.
The sarge didn't answer. Instead, holding the hand of his comrade who held a small hard drive tightly in his opposite hand.
"I say again. Do you have the package?"
When the sarge finally answered, he ripped the tags off his comrade and said, "yes sir."
His tone was...somber and gruff.
"Casualties, Sergeant Rodriguez?"
"Affirmative. Corporal L/n is KIA."
The captain sighed.
"With permission sir-"
"Granted. Bury them beneath the snow. Argus out."
Gustavo pulled out a detonator from his pack and readied it for use, pressing the button after the primer was set.
A Month Later
Gustavo stood in front of a house on Earth, his nerves wracked with uneasiness. Taking a deep breath, he looked down at the envelope in his hand, gloved in white, his sleeve a dark navy blue. A tear forms in his eye, he tried not to imagine the three boys, his godchildren, and their expressions when they were given the news.
Straightening his back and steeling himself, he approached the house. With a knock of thrice, he watched the door open, revealing a young woman in an apron. She seemed happy to see him, smiling brightly, her brown hair frizzing at the tips.
"How may I help you today?"
He froze for a moment, gazing into her soft grey-blue eyes before noticing the small boy at her hip. As he hand her the letter, his hand shook.
Taking off his hat, he whispered, "I'm sorry for your loss, Marianne."
He could do nothing as he watched her open the letter and read it, breaking down into tears, covering her mouth with her hand. Gustavo sighed as he turned to the boy in front of him, and knelt to the his level.
"Hey, kiddo."
He really didn't even know what to say. Especially when it came to the boy's question.
"Is my daddy coming back?"
Gustavo winced. No one trained you how to tell someone's family they died in the line of duty especially when it came to their children. It took all of his strength to hold his emotions in check.
"I-I don't know." Was all that slipped from his lips.
The boy was speechless, unable to come up with a response.
"Sam, go get your brothers."
Soon, the rapid pitter patter of footsteps of a small child could be heard growing ever more distant. Sniffing, Marianne wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks. Not knowing what else to say, the soldier simply left, not wanting to cause them even more pain. The boy walked up to his mother and hugged her tightly, hoping to stop crying.
"I'm so sorry, mama."
"It's okay, Y/n. We're gonna be okay. It's not your fault."
The boy turned to the sky, his eyes red from crying. In his crimson orbs lay a dark raging hatred.
And in his heart was a promise.
"When I find you, you're going to die."
Somewhere
A hand bursts from the snow and clenches into a fist.
