Bad Guys... over there!

Location: Miranda Colony - Inner Perimeter

Date: April 10, 2533

Time: 1115 Hours

The Covenant was relentless. Plasma bolts and energy rounds crisscrossed the battlefield as we scrambled to hold our position. My hands were shaking from the intensity, but I kept firing, trying to push back the oncoming wave of Grunts and Elites. Our line was holding—for now—but I could feel the pressure building.

I dropped behind cover, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I reloaded my rifle. Every shot felt like a desperate attempt to buy us a few more seconds. My heart was pounding, adrenaline surging through my veins as I scanned the battlefield for the next threat.

That's when I saw it.

A Brute, roaring as it charged through the smoke, its massive arm winding up to throw something. My eyes widened as I realized what it was—a spike grenade. The jagged, deadly device spun through the air, heading straight for us. Instinct kicked in, my body moving before my brain could catch up.

I lunged forward, reaching out—and, by some insane stroke of luck, my hand closed around the handle of the grenade mid-air.

For a split second, the battlefield froze. Everything seemed to slow down as I stared at the grenade in my hand, the spikes gleaming in the dim light. I could feel the heat from the charge building, seconds away from detonation.

Without thinking, I twisted, spinning on my heel, and hurled the grenade back into the air. It spiraled toward the sky, arcing toward an oncoming Banshee that had just broken through the smoke, its plasma cannons glowing as it lined up a shot on our position.

The spike grenade hit the Banshee dead-on.

There was a deafening explosion as the Banshee erupted into flames, spiraling out of control before slamming into the ground with a massive crash. The shockwave rippled across the battlefield, sending debris flying in every direction.

For a moment, everything went silent.

I stood there, stunned, my hand still raised where I had thrown the grenade. Around me, both sides—UNSC and Covenant—seemed frozen, staring in disbelief at what had just happened.

That's when I heard it.

From the Covenant line, a high-pitched voice cried out in panic. "Augh, guys! IMPS, THEY ARE IMPS!"

I blinked, my mind struggling to process what I had just heard. Imps? The Grunt's voice echoed across the battlefield, cutting through the silence like a knife.

And then, as if the spell had been broken, the battle roared back to life.

Plasma fire erupted from the Covenant forces, and our own soldiers returned fire, the brief moment of shock forgotten in an instant. I ducked behind cover, my heart still racing, barely able to believe what had just happened.

"Cass, what the hell was that?!" Alice's voice crackled over the comms, equal parts disbelief and awe.

"I—" I started, my breath still coming in short bursts. "I don't know."

"You just caught a spike grenade mid-air," she said, her voice incredulous. "And threw it into a Banshee."

I shook my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. "I didn't even mean to—"

"Yeah, well, whatever you did, it worked. I don't think I've ever seen the Covenant that freaked out."

I peeked over the edge of my cover, catching a glimpse of the Covenant forces as they regrouped. A few Grunts were still chattering nervously, glancing back toward where the Banshee had gone down. I could almost hear them whispering among themselves, the panic in their voices clear.

"IMPS!" one of them repeated, as if the word had taken on a life of its own.

I couldn't help but chuckle, despite the chaos around me. Imps. The name was ridiculous, but somehow… it fit. We'd been called a lot of things over the course of the war—Helljumpers, ODSTs, the freaking lunatics who dropped into battle from space. But Imps? There was something about it that made sense. Something that captured the way we fought—small, relentless, and dangerous.

"Well," I muttered to myself, diving back behind cover as another wave of plasma fire rained down on us, "looks like we've got a new nickname."

Location: Miranda Colony - Inner Perimeter

Date: April 10, 2533

Time: 1120 Hours

The battle resumed in full force, but I couldn't shake the adrenaline high from what had just happened. Around me, the rookies were fighting with renewed energy, their focus sharp as they held the line against the Covenant forces.

"Bravo, keep pushing!" I shouted, my voice raw as I fired off another burst from my rifle. The Grunts and Elites were still coming, but their earlier confidence had been shaken. They weren't charging as recklessly now, their movements more cautious as they tried to regroup.

I could feel the shift in the air. The tide was turning.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Alice advancing with Alpha Fireteam, her MA5C raised as she laid down covering fire. Her movements were precise, controlled—the same calm focus she always had in battle. But even she couldn't hide the grin on her face when she caught my eye.

"You just made history, Cass," she called out over the comms, her voice light despite the intensity of the fight. "I think 'Imps' might stick."

I grinned back, ducking as a plasma bolt sizzled past my head. "Not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Doesn't matter," she replied, firing off another round. "It's ours now."

Location: Miranda Colony - UNSC Defensive Line

Date: April 10, 2533

Time: 1140 Hours

The battle stretched on for what felt like hours, but eventually, the Covenant forces began to retreat. The UNSC defensive line held, and the evac ships had arrived to get the remaining civilians out. We had done it. The colony of Miranda was still standing—for now, at least.

I sat on a piece of rubble, catching my breath as the dust settled around us. The adrenaline from the fight was finally wearing off, leaving me feeling drained but satisfied. We'd survived another mission, and against all odds, we'd won.

Alice walked up beside me, her helmet tucked under her arm. "Hell of a day, huh?"

I nodded, wiping sweat from my brow. "Yeah. Hell of a day."

She gave me a sidelong glance, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "You know they're never going to let you live that down, right?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I wouldn't expect them to."

"Imps," she said, the word rolling off her tongue with a mix of amusement and pride. "It's not the worst nickname."

I couldn't help but smile. "No, I guess it's not."

And as the sun began to set over the scorched landscape of Miranda, I realized that, for better or worse, we were making history. The battles would keep coming, and the war was far from over. But in that moment, I felt something I hadn't felt in a long time—hope.