"We'll be there in no time, my love..." Grace cooed.
The Pelican dipped below the clouds, revealing a barren landscape rife with battle.
The area they approached was a segment of canyon, with a small fort in the center. Marines charged toward the building, to be swiftly gunned down.
"Kill them all!" One of the Foxtrots shouted.
"I'm hit!" Another said, retreating from his position on the wall.
"Where's our medic?!" The first shouted.
"I'll be back." Their leader said, dashing out the seven yards between him and the trench. Bullets missed him, and hit him, tearing his shield away before he dived into the trench. Their medic was busy patching up a Foxtrot with grievous plasma burns, which ate through his Hephaestus armor.
"We need you in the base, enemy sharpshooter just got one of our boys." The Foxtrot captain coughed. The medic looked to his comrades.
"But our brothers and sisters on the front are dying here. This is where I'm needed." The medic replied calmly, continuing his work. The captain sighed.
"I'll bring him out here." He nodded.