Never Say Die [Solo]

I will put the mission above all else. That adage was all that kept Erin going. All that kept her crawling through the ruins of London over the broken and bloody corpses of friend and enemy alike, the weight of the Cain crushing her chest into the ground until her breath rasped painfully in her throat. She stared towards the bridge, or where it should be, she couldn't see it from here. So far to crawl... Corporal O'Connor spat bloody saliva into the dirt and got moving again.

Even in this day and age of shuttles and dropships some things were a constant in war some things never changed. The bridge over the Thames was to be blown. It would cut off a sizable portion of the Reaper forces from the task force assigned to go for the beacon for a little while. Maybe only half an hour. Every minute bought was precious though. Her squad set out knowing how dangerous the assignment was, but it had to be done. They picked their way through the ruined metropolis, avoiding the enemy where they could, striking hard and melting into the shadows where they couldn't. They should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

It was never that easy, Erin reflected as she crawled, slowly and painfully toward her objective. Her ribs ached like a bitch, she wondered vaguely how many were broken. Her upper back and shoulders throbbed and screamed with every movement, everything below that was numb. The numbness, so complete that only the feeling of dragging something heavy across the ground told her her legs existed at all filled her with terror, until she could feel a horrified shriek trying to claw its way from her throat. She bit down on her lip until she tasted more blood. There were more important things to worry about.

Maybe the Reaper forces had been heading for the battle, maybe they were just a patrol. It didn't really matter in the end. What mattered was that the Reapers had caught them out in the open. Gunfire from Marauders and Cannibals ripped through the squad taking two of them down in seconds. But if that had been all they might have still made it. Maybe. The Alliance marines trapped on Earth for months, fighting a guerrilla war, had become experienced, and even caught by surprise were no easy prey. The remaining four gunned down the husks of what had once been batarians and turians in short order, and if that had been all it might have been the end of it.

But the Brute seemed to come out of nowhere, charging them, scattering them, and knocking them to the ground, as it swung the huge shield that had replaced one arm, ripping one of the few remaining marines in half and sending his torso spurting blood and trailing his intestines, flying backwards across the ground. They tried to kill it, they pounded it with fire from all angles chipping away at its armor, slowly, piece by piece. And it hunted them down. Erin let out a pained groan, clutching her ribs, as she crawled across the ground for the shotgun that had flown from her grasp when a chunk of asphalt -looking as big as a car as it flew at her- had smashed into her chest. The Brute's growl came again, behind her, her eyes went wide, it had to be close enough to touch.

This is the part in the holovids where heroine looks over her shoulder and just as the Brute is about to paste her, the hero comes along and blows its head off with a shotgun. And mostly unscathed they live happily ever after. But this? This is real life. And in real life Erin had just enough time to let out a terrified scream, before the massive husk's foot slammed down on her back and legs with a nauseating crunch, before the scream of terror turned to one of agony as white hot pain flared through her body. Then the hero arrived. Late. And blasted the Brute's head off. And then he bled out from the wound which had ripped through his shoulder, something else that wouldn't happen in the vids. Leaving the last member of the squad with nothing but a Cain, a half empty shotgun, and the mission. But as the Corps had drilled into Erin from day one, the mission was to be set above all else, and for Corporal O'Connor that included such things as shattered spines. So she crawled.

If she had been able to move in a straight line she might have made it in time. If she hadn't been half blind with pain and exhaustion. If if if. The point is she never made it. They found her hours after the battle was over, the Reapers beaten, utterly unaware. Still crawling. Still dragging herself and leaving a pair of long red smears behind her from her scraped and slashed hands.

Not many soldiers receive commendations or promotions for a mission failed. Erin received both. She stared numbly at the Sergeant's insignia and the Medal of Valor she held in one hand while absently fingering the metal ridge protruding from her back, the blatant sign of her failure. She looked from the badges to the letter on her desk. The one detailing her new assignment. This time she would complete her mission. Whatever her orders. Whatever it took. She would crawl if she had to.