Spread your wings. (Fan Fiction Contest)

I see where are mission is taking us. A building maybe clicks of our position. Supposedly there are supplies in there to last our city for quite a while. The only thing is the Fallen have beaten us to it. I look around at my comrades and see that we are a real motley crew. Some I just met, others I've known since childhood, but each has my unbridled respect. We advance towards the objective, watching for patrols and trying not to give away our presence. As we advance upon the structure I take a minute to just take in my surroundings and ponder what utmost gave looked like before all this death and destruction. People going about their usual business, working, earning their wages to feed their families. And now it's just a building surrounded by the glass of its window, structural beams broken, roof collapsing, and a smell of death all around. I'm brought back from my thoughts as a unusually big patrol starts to exit the building. This must be are target. About maybe 20 are exiting the building, followed by another ten, each carrying a crate of the supplies we're going to need if we are to survive these next couple of months. Before we can mobilize we notice something that stops us before we can even start. They have hostages. If we move now, they could die. I've killed many of the Fallen throughout my missions without a second thought, shooting them down one by one, not even phased by the blood. But could I risk having the blood of a [i]human[/i] on my hands? Could I deal with the guilt? Before I can give command, one my own charges, guns blazing, then one more, than the rest. As I'm watching, the Fallen see the them coming, and immediately line the hostages up in front of them as a human wall. My comrades are not fazed and continue the assault. Later they will justify a few deaths is a means to an end, that they will have sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. Seeing their blood spilled on the sand makes me wonder if we have not already lost it. There are times where I question what I do.There are times where I question what we all do. The violence, the bloodshed, the loss of so much, I just sometimes wonder why we don't just give in and forfeit our lives and escape from this world, dust to dust. There are times where it feels like we have. But then I look up. I see it there just, above the top of our glorious city in the distance. A beacon of hope for all humanity, and I realize that we don't give up because we can't give up. Humanity is something we humans don't give up, and seeing the Traveller there above our species, our world, I realize that we have a future. A future of joy, of happiness, of peace, and that the only we are to get there is use what's been given to me and my brothers in arms and take back what is, and always will be, ours. So I step forward, strong in my conviction, gun in hand,and begin my mission. Praying for our dead and soon to be. For our living. For myself. For our future. For our Destiny.