With the nanobots now deployed and hidden in the environment, Thea cautiously elevated herself above the edge of the trench, peering through her Gram's scope. She was on a focused hunt for the annoying snipers who continued to harass Isabella and the rest of her squad.
Through her Gram's high-powered scope, Thea scrutinised the relentless onslaught directed at the UHF's dwindling number of hover-shields. The Republic's focus was glaringly obvious.
With the destruction of the last las-cannon emplacements, their only hope of cleanly killing the Marines hiding behind the Tier-1 Heavy Shields—like Lucas' indomitable Stalwart—rested in overwhelming the less resilient hover-shields first, and then flanking the last few remaining bastions with a deluge of infantry.
Republic soldiers poured forth an unyielding barrage of kinetic bullets, laser blasts, and ruinous explosives. Each piece of ordnance left its mark on the hover-shields, eroding resilient layers, carving out craters, and scorching surfaces. When explosives met the shields, the shockwaves reverberated through the air, sending up mushrooming clouds of smoke and debris.
In front of each surviving hover-shield lay a mountainous accumulation of melted slag, spent ammunition, and various debris. These heaps bore mute testimony to the ceaseless, relentless assault that the Republic was willing to sustain just to wipe the UHF Marines off this particular patch of the battlefield.
Each time her gaze shifted back to the UHF lines, she felt her stomach clench tighter. Their numbers, already scant to start with, appeared to diminish with every sweep of her eyes.
What had once been a formidable force—albeit operating at half strength—was now whittled down to a beleaguered band of approximately 70 Marines. Each was engaged in a desperate fight that transcended their own personal survival; encompassing the lives of their comrades as well. Through her scope, Thea could discern that a majority of these remaining warriors bore visible injuries, some more severe than others, not unlike the members of Alpha Squad. About five or six of them were currently receiving urgent medical attention, tended to by their respective squad's designated medics.
Internally, she had to concede that the Stellar Republic was executing their strategy flawlessly: Keep the UHF forces at bay and slowly erode their numbers with ranged attacks. 'They're playing it smart. Just keep us pinned, keep whittling us down. They know they can't match us in close combat; if we’re allowed to move as we want,' she thought bitterly.
It was evident that most of the enemy soldiers in this ambush had been unintegrated, making them vastly inferior opponents in close-quarters combat or any engagements that allowed the Marines to use their overpowering Attributes and Abilities. If only the UHF could close that gap, they'd slice through the Republic's ranks like a hot knife through butter… But the Stellar Republic’s forces were not giving them that chance, as long as they could keep the UHF bogged down under a relentless barrage of long-range firepower.
Tearing her gaze away from the disheartening tableau of dwindling UHF forces, Thea refocused on her immediate task: locating the enemy snipers that Isabella had tasked her with eliminating. Easier said than done. Just like her, these enemy marksmen were masters of concealment, adept at blending into their surroundings rather than walking around with figurative signs that declared, "I'm a sniper; please take me out!"
With resolve, Thea scanned the labyrinthine network of trenches, bunkers, and natural cover that comprised the Stellar Republic's setup. She calibrated her scope, zooming in on the most probable lines of sight that could target Isabella's position. Her eyes flickered back and forth, analysing multiple defensive lines that stretched from approximately 800 metres to as far as 1300 metres away from her own concealed location.
Each defensive layer seemed more complex than the last, filled with an intricate mesh of sandbags, parapets, and turrets. ‘Any one of these could be a sniper's den,’ she thought after a while. The odds of pinpointing a hidden shooter amid this sprawling maze were akin to finding a needle in a haystack, only the haystack was the size of an entire village.
A wave of frustration washed over her. "If I could just use [Sensory Overdrive]," she lamented quietly to herself. It would allow her to process an overwhelming amount of sensory data in an instant, isolating any inconsistencies with lightning speed. Unfortunately, her current low Focus levels made using it out of the question, forcing her to rely on her less-capable, albeit still exceptional, natural senses which were clearly not up to the monumental task at hand.
Despite her best efforts, Thea was ultimately forced to admit defeat. If the snipers didn't expose themselves, even momentarily, there was simply no way to locate them amidst the cacophony of the battlefield.
‘I’ll have to do it the dirty way then,’ she reluctantly decided.
Activating her squad comms, Thea opened a private channel to Isabella, “Ella, I can’t find these snipers. I need you to draw their fire for just an instant, so I can get a bead on their locations.”
An affirmative, albeit muffled, double-beep came through her helmet’s comms, indicating Isabella’s willingness to assist with characteristic brevity.
“And stay safe!” Thea quickly added, worry overtaking her better judgement to keep the comms clear at all times. Intentionally revealing yourself to enemy snipers who were already trained on your position was about as dumb of a decision as you could possibly make on the battlefield, after all. But with no other option presenting itself, they simply had to bite the bullet; in Isabella’s case, potentially quite literally.
Just as Thea was about to focus entirely on the potential sniper locations that were about to be revealed, something caught her eye. A drone darted across her field of view, briefly obstructing parts of her scope. It was smaller than the one Desmond had previously deployed, presumably tailored for reconnaissance rather than combat. Still, its presence lifted her spirits—proof that their drone operator was back in action.
She watched as the compact device vanished into the labyrinthine formations of the Stellar Republic's rear lines, likely on a quest to locate any potential backup mortars Corvus had previously cautioned them about.
Easing back on her scope's magnification to capture a broader swath of the battlefield, particularly the right flank where she suspected the snipers lay in wait, Thea drew several slow, steadying breaths. Her heart drummed a frenetic rhythm against her ribcage, each beat echoing her mounting apprehension.
'I really hope I don’t get Isabella killed here as well,' she thought anxiously. 'I feel like Karania’s death is already on me. I don’t know if I could handle another one…'
Before Thea could further question the wisdom of her risky strategy, her eyes snapped to Isabella. She saw her squadmate cautiously inch toward the right edge of the Stalwart, which had previously shielded her from the invisible but deadly snipers; not even a hint of hesitation visible in her movements.
The moment Isabella broke cover, her Devastation cannon erupting in controlled bursts at the Stellar Republic's front lines, a startling array of muzzle flashes lit up the distance. Thea’s eyes widened, as she had been bracing for two or three snipers at most. But as Isabella exposed herself, flashes flared from at least eight distinct positions, all aimed at her with lethal intent.
A surge of panic and frustration flooded Thea's mind as she saw the surprising amount of firepower aimed at her squadmate.
'Fuck! Ella!’
Without sparing a second to assess the outcome of the sniper fire aimed at Isabella, Thea quickly zoomed in on the closest muzzle flash she'd detected and pulled the trigger without hesitation as soon as the head of the first sniper came into her sight.
Fully trusting her instincts to guide her shots, Thea moved on to the next target immediately after the Gram's laser reduced the first sniper's head to vapour. She was driven by panic and worry over her squadmate, yet her mind remained sharp and unclouded; she was a well-oiled machine of death—locate, aim, fire, repeat.
The Gram's high-powered laser made short work of another sniper whose head practically vanished in a haze of vapour and light. Another shot pierced through the light armour of a third, leaving nothing but a cauterised hole where his chest had been. Each shot was a miniaturised cataclysm, obliterating whatever it touched with frighteningly lethal precision.
By the time she'd locked onto her fifth target, return fire erupted from the Stellar Republic's lines. Lasers, bullets, and explosives hit the rim of the trench near her, each impact a stark reminder of the razor's edge she was walking. Dust and debris were thrown into the air, obscuring parts of her vision momentarily.
'Close. Too close,' Thea thought, momentarily grateful.
The Illusion-type Nanobot swarm she had deployed earlier seemed to be doing its job, refracting and bending the light just enough to keep her exact location ambiguous. It was a small miracle that the first volley hadn't zeroed in on her precise spot, reducing her to ash. She didn't have time to ponder the effectiveness of the nanobots, however; her priority was eliminating the rest of those snipers before they could adjust their aim or reposition. She was unlikely to get another opportunity to take out this battlefield side’s snipers as good as this one.
Ignoring the encroaching hailstorm of return-fire that seemed to be inching closer to her actual position with each passing moment, Thea zeroed in on her next target and took her shot. She was rewarded with a renewed explosion of red vapour, as she moved onto her next target in an almost fluid motion.
As her scope hovered over the head of the second-to-last sniper, a gut-clenching sensation overcame her, prompting her to pause for an instant. In that split second, the sniper vanished from her scope as if swallowed by the air itself.
'What the fuck was that?' she thought, perplexed.
But almost immediately, she noticed a faint shimmer in her scope, eerily reminiscent of the illusion tech she'd seen employed by the Stellar Republic earlier. Acting on instinct alone, she took the shot at the glimmer. The illusion shattered like a fractured mirror, revealing a shocked sniper just as they toppled backward, a cauterised hole marking the spot where her laser had easily punctured their chest armour. Rapidly shifting her attention to the last sniper, she took aim and fired, watching as the final enemy collapsed to the ground.
Immediately, she dropped down from the platform and made her way further up the trenchline, towards Alpha Squad’s position, with haste, as the area where she had been sniping from saw the first bullets and lasers impact on the rim.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Despite the success of eliminating the immediate threats, Thea couldn't shake the unnerving thought that she might have missed something important— especially considering just how close the return fire had gotten at the end there.
Nevertheless, she breathed a sigh of relief; the nanobot swarm had kept her exact location concealed well enough to allow her to complete her grim task without becoming the next casualty. Checking her Spectre’s data-screen, she was greeted with a sobering account of the costs for her success.
[Nanobot Swarm (Illusion) - Integrity: 36.7%]
Recalling the remaining nanobots with a brief wave of her hand, Thea’s mind returned to the battlefield. She opened the squad comms and reported, “Eight of the snipers on the right side are down. Didn’t see any more. How is Ella?”
A moment of silence followed, that made Thea’s heart clench up, before Corvus’ voice came in muffled over the comms in her helmet, “Good work, Thea. Isabella’s hurt bad, but we’ve stemmed the bleeding for now. Most shots grazed off of her armour, but two got through.”
Thea could feel the blood draining from her face, ‘Two?! There’s no way Isabella’s going to be fine without a medic…!’
Corvus continued, giving Thea no further time to reflect, his voice level and focused, which calmed her down slightly; an anchor in the midst of her turbulent sea of emotions.
“Listen, Thea. Staff-Sergeant Venn requested your assistance with something. With the snipers gone, I think we have a bit more breathing room here. Make your way down the trenchline towards him. He’s about half a click from our position, as the drone flies. Stay safe.”
Torn between duty and the visceral urge to stay with her squad, Thea hesitated. Her mind was a swirl of conflicting thoughts: 'I can't leave them; I have to ensure their safety. I can't afford to let anyone else get hurt.'
Her internal debate was interrupted by a stern transmission from Corvus, his voice brooking no arguments. “Thea. That wasn’t a request. The Staff-Sergeant needs you. Move it.”
Like a flash of lightning illuminating the dark of night, her mind cleared up in an instant, her mission clear, ‘He’s right. I’m a Marine now. I need to start acting like one!’ With a determination that Thea didn’t think she could still muster, amidst her mounting physical and mental exhaustion, she briefly clicked the comms twice in silent acknowledgment.
Turning towards her backpack, which was laying next to the still glowing Caliburn that continued to give off enough heat to cook an unarmoured person from a couple metres away, she shouldered it clumsily, her right hand still taped to the Gram; thus useless to help with the task, and made her way towards the indicated direction through the trenches.
As she got closer to the platform she had just left about a minute ago she was greeted by a sight of utter devastation.
The trenches she had just vacated bore the unmistakable hallmarks of the Stellar Republic's devastating return fire. What had previously been a platform of white foam, which had raised her high enough to shoot over the trenchline, had been reduced to unrecognisable shreds, obliterated by explosions and riddled with bullet holes. The trench wall facing the enemy lines had been so thoroughly demolished it now more closely resembled a badly constructed dirt-ramp than a vertical fortification.
On the opposite side of the trench, the walls hadn't fared much better; they were marred by scorch marks and pocked with gaping holes where material had been blasted away. At the base lay a heap of what could only be described as molten lead, a small mound formed from the rain of bullets that had pounded the trench.
A similar tableau of destruction extended further down the trench, all the way to the point where the trench line made its first bend. It was evident that the Stellar Republic had initially misjudged her location; their retaliatory fire had systematically moved across the entire length of the trench toward where she'd actually been positioned.
"Fuck me," Thea murmured, taking in the havoc she'd caused and narrowly escaped. The nanobot swarm and her quick shooting had made all the difference here. Simultaneously, she could not help but be impressed by Lucas’ Stalwart as a consequence.
Alpha Squad had been under constant fire for more than 20 minutes at this point, yet somehow, the shield was still holding strong, only showing a few cracks where it had been hit repeatedly by the las-cannon emplacements.
Navigating through the demolished trenches felt like manoeuvring through a labyrinth of destruction. Thea kept her body as low as possible, wary of the ever-present danger of a soldier's stray bullet finding her head.
The Gram, still bound to her right hand with adhesive tape, was an unwieldy companion in this confined space. It threw off her balance and caught on pieces of rubble, slowing her down. On her left shoulder, the weight of her hastily slung backpack added to her troubles, dragging her down as she picked her way through the devastation.
By the time she reached the trench's first bend, which also marked the end of the destroyed trenches, Thea was almost out of breath. She crouched there for a moment, gasping for air, fully aware that every second she lingered pushed the Staff-Sergeant's plans further behind.
With a few deep breaths steadying her racing heart, she continued on her precarious journey.
When she arrived at the second platform she had previously used, she found it too had been mauled by the Stellar Republic's relentless counterfire, albeit to a lesser degree than the first. It looked like a giant had taken a bite out of it, the white-foam platform shredded and walls fractured, but it still stood somewhat recognizable for what it had once been; a momentary battlefield utility.
Taking in the scene, Thea felt a renewed sense of urgency. 'I can't afford to dawdle. Alpha Squad’s still getting pounded, every moment I spend here,' she thought, quickening her pace as much as her cumbersome gear and her steadily increasing exhaustion would allow.
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A couple of minutes later, she finally arrived in the trenches behind a larger group of Marines. They were huddled behind two hover-shields that had been pushed together and were under a relentless onslaught of fire from the Stellar Republic. It was clear that the enemy knew this was likely to be one of the key locations on the battlefield.
Thea was surprised to see the hover shields still standing, considering the amount of concentrated fire coming down on their position, but quickly realised the reason for it. She spotted two particular Marines who had their hands firmly placed against the hover-shields and seemed to be still as statues.
'They must be using some sort of Ability to fortify these shields,' she thought, her curiosity piqued. ‘Would be awesome if Lucas could do that to the Stalwart too, in case we run into anything that the shield can’t handle outright…’
Taking a few moments to gauge her surroundings, Thea hoisted herself up and darted toward the shielded walls. This time, the walls were sufficiently expansive and well-positioned, close enough to the trenches, to offer substantial cover from most Stellar Republic lines of sight, so she opted not to expend any of her scarce, left-over Stamina on [Improved Sprint].
Upon reaching a position just behind Staff-Sergeant Venn, she synced her comms to his using her short-range UHF access code. “Thea McKay here, reporting from Alpha Squ—Sovereign Alpha, sir. You requested my presence?”
"Ah, you made it here faster than I expected. Impressive," Staff-Sergeant Venn remarked, his eyes scanning something intently on his data-pad. "You're that mad sniper who's been giving ‘em hell, right?"
Thea felt momentarily perplexed by the question. While she was indeed a scout/sniper and had, in the battle so far, primarily been acting towards the latter part, the descriptor 'mad' seemed a bit off-kilter. 'Then again,' she thought, 'Desmond did just call me insane like five minutes ago.'
“I assume so, sir,” she cautiously replied, wondering just what exactly the Staff-Sergeant had been told about her.
“Perfect. I am in need of your skills. You see—” in that moment, Venn turned fully toward her to continue, his eyes widened in sudden disbelief as he looked at her for the first time, “By the Emperor’s golden abs, what the fuck?! What on Terra happened to you?! Are you okay?”
His sudden outburst, in-turn, startled Thea as well, who was more than taken aback by the sudden question. Caught off guard by his abrupt exclamation, Thea felt a surge of confusion. ‘What could possibly make him ask that question…?’
Looking around, scanning her own body carefully, she quickly figured out just why the Staff-Sergeant might have been worried, seeing her for the first time since the brief introduction back at the base.
In that moment of self-examination, she fully grasped the state she was in for the first time.
Her eyes travelled down to her right hand, which was so crudely bound to her Gram with adhesive tape that it looked almost fused together— a grotesque amalgamation of flesh and weaponry resulting from the heat of the Caliburn incident. The hand itself had melted to the point of being unrecognisable, resembling less a human appendage and more a melted sculpture of twisted, gnarled flesh.
Lifting her gaze, she noticed her half-helmet, now without the full-mask, no longer concealed her face. Her reflection in the visor was marred by streaks of dried blood that had trickled from her ears, dark rivulets running like sinister war paint. What truly gave her pause, however, was her skin. The patchwork of hastily sutured flesh—courtesy of Karania’s desperate medical efforts—was reattached in such a manner that it seemed slightly off-kilter. The angles were wrong, lending her face an uncanny, almost alien appearance.
Finally, her eyes widened as she caught sight of a fresh trail of blood seeping from a puncture in her armour. With a sense of detached astonishment, she realised she hadn’t even felt the wound—her body was so numbed to pain that she was oblivious to her own injuries. All at once, Thea understood why the Staff-Sergeant had reacted with such immediate concern.
Her lips tightened into a thin line as she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of awkwardness, “Um… I suppose I’m mostly fine, but I could use a coagulant before we begin, I guess…”
Venn seemed to momentarily mouth the word "coagulant," as if trying to process the surreal situation before him. Snapping back to reality, he swivelled his head towards his squad. "Johnsen, give Private Thea a once-over. She claims she's okay, but... well, you'll see for yourself. I need her in fighting shape in five minutes if you deem her fit for duty."
"Roger, sir," responded the designated Marine, Johnsen, with military briskness. He moved towards Thea to assess her condition but came to an abrupt halt the moment his eyes met her battle-worn visage. "By the Emperor's name! What the fuck?!"
A tense, awkward silence stretched between them for a moment before Johnsen muttered under his breath, "How is she even still on her feet?"
Thea squirmed under the scrutiny, feeling increasingly uncomfortable with the unexpected attention. Her current state was indeed more akin to a horror movie character than a Marine sniper.
Seemingly snapping back to professional mode, Johnsen motioned for her to lie down behind the hover-shields and began rapidly tapping on his data-pad. Soon after, he commenced a thorough examination. A rapid series of varying different tests followed.
"You're mostly... functional, somehow," he started. "Looks like you took some nasty shrapnel. I'll remove it and apply a sealant. As for the rest of you, particularly that hand—it looks like you grabbed a plasma grenade or something. That's beyond my field capabilities. You'll need surgical attention back at base. Can you even operate your rifle like this?"
Thea nodded, prompting Johnsen to shake his head and mumble, "Damn grunts... Fueled by adrenaline and always wrecking themselves beyond all recognition."
As he proceeded to examine her disfigured face, he abruptly stopped and looked her straight in the eyes through her visor. His tone grew grave as he questioned, "Private, I need a straight answer: Did you overdraw your focus?"
Thea felt a cold shudder run down her spine.
A chill crept down Thea's spine at Johnsen's sudden change in tone. Though he had been cordial, even if a bit blunt, his intensity now caught her off guard. She knew from her experience in the Cube Trial and her body's own warnings that overdrawing Focus was risky, but the specifics eluded her.
Unclear about the implications of doing so, she wasn’t quite certain how to answer the question.
‘What if overdrawing my Focus is somehow an immediate disqualification…?’ She thought briefly, her mind racing. ‘No. We would have been warned for anything that could disqualify us, surely. Why is he so intense about this…? Regardless, I definitely should not lie to a medic. Not only will he be unable to help me effectively, it might heavily affect my score, regardless of what overdrawing my Focus has for repercussions. The Sovereign would definitely know I overdrew it, so there’s no hiding that,' she ultimately concluded.
Snapping her attention back to Johnsen, who was still awaiting an answer, she finally said, "Yes, I overdrew my Focus when I disabled the cloaking device. My squad medic helped me recover enough to stand. My Focus levels are low now, but I have other abilities at my disposal. I'm still combat-ready."
Johnsen locked eyes with her, the weight of his indecision palpable in the air, before he finally exhaled a heavy sigh. "I ought to shoot you right here, send you back to base for a full debrief and thorough retraining. But we need you for something Venn has in mind, so I'll have to trust your, clearly impaired, judgement."
Standing to his full height, he towered over Thea, as if trying to infuse his very being into his next words. "Swear to me you won't overdraw your Focus again on this mission, no matter the circumstances. Seriously, Private. Overdrawing your Focus can and will kill you."
Thea found herself puzzled by the medic's extreme urgency.
She was still in the dark about what overdrawing her Focus truly entailed in its entirety.
She was tempted to inquire further but hesitated, sensing that doing so might make Johnsen even more reluctant to clear her for Venn's mission. While she valued understanding the situation, there was something even more important to her:
The Highscore.