The Jungle

Fireteam Reaper is sent to Migrant Site Two of to capture or kill Wang Wei, an illusive  commander responsible for seeding new insurrectionist cells on several worlds. While there, one of the team begins to think of the past...

0620 HOURS, MAY 14, 2554 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ 18 SCORPII SYSTEM, PLANET FALAKNUMA \ MIGRANT SITE TWO – "LA SELVA"

“Reaper One—I’m in position,” announced SPARTAN-G309—Ana—over TEAMCOM. “I count five hostiles in the yard northwest of your position.”

“Copy Reaper Five,” replied Joseph-G341. “We’re Oscar Mike. Keep watch for any surprises.”

Ana winked a green status signal to the team leader in acknowledgement and settled into her nest, silently peering through the Sentinel scope of her M395. From the old water tower that she converted into her sniper’s perch, she had clear view of the target area: a recreational center that Wang Wei was apparently using as a gathering place for his would-be rebels. One of the only two such places in town, this particular facility was located near the center of Migrant Site Two, or as the locals called it: La Selva, the “Jungle”.

Originally one of the many refugee camps set up in 2535 to accommodate survivors from the Rubble, La Selva became a permanent settlement after relocation efforts stalled. Rampant discrimination, poverty, and what the locals perceived as a general lack of concern from the UNSC led to renewed anti-government sentiments, protests, and even violent clashes for several years, so this proved an ideal place for the URF to give birth to a new cell.

As she gazed down her rifle at the dilapidated building—taking note of every plasma sear, crumbling brick, and shattered window—she left out an involuntary sigh of grief. She couldn’t help but remember how she used to play at the very same rec center so many years ago; most of her team had no clue of it, but Ana was born in Migrant Site Two. La Selva was her home.

“Not anymore,” she reminded herself. "What Spartan has a home?"

Since the mission briefing, Ana knew that this assignment wouldn’t be a cake walk for her and it became abundantly evident upon insertion about a half-hour ago when she got a clear look at the town from the Pelican’s “blood tray”. La Selva was never a perfect place of course but the people, through all of their hard work and dedication, made it a place to be proud of. Once there were red-bricked schoolhouses, bustling markets where people sold almost anything, large co-op gardens that fed the community, and colorful murals painted on nearly every public structure in town. Now, there were mostly just charred husks. More than half of La Selva was reduced to molten slag when the Covenant attacked and only a few structures remained standing, albeit barely. Where a large, almost familial community once lived—only squatters remained to pick over the bones.

Ana found herself wondering just how many people here were her people. How many of them lived in La Selva before all of this, when they were third-class citizens? How many of them saw family or friends dragged from their homes and off to jail without due process? How many of them lost everything and just wanted it all back? Suddenly, the clangor of multiple automatic weapons sounding at once began to resonate from the rec center—Ana had been so wrapped up in thought, she didn’t even notice that her team already breached the building and were clearing it out. A few men ran from the entrance bloody and scared but others ran toward it, there weapons at the ready.

The Spartan took a deep breath and as she moved her crosshairs over her first target, another whispered question echoed in the Ana's mind.

“How many of them will die today?”