About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact

Desperation at Jericho VII
Date: 4 November 2007, 8:03 am

Part I- "Feet First into Hell"

October 15th 2532
Lambda Serpentis, Jericho VII Theatre of Operations
UNSC Frigate Insurmountable

      Captain George Reno stood just behind his navigation officer with his hands clasped firmly behind his back. "How long before we're within range to launch drop ships?" he asked inquisitively, glancing over Lieutenant Michaels shoulder.
      "Four hours, sir," a short reply from the nav-officer.
      "Good, let Captain Shaw know." he told a junior enlisted member on the bridge.
      Captain Shaw was the commanding officer of Alpha Company 1st Battalion 105th Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. The Insurmountable and her crew were the first to respond to a priority mission for all nearby ships to head to the Lambda Serpentis system with all possible haste. Covenant ships were attacking Earth's colony Jericho VII and her four moons, and slaughtering the people in many of the population centers. UNSC high command had devised a plan that ODSTs would drop down to the planet and conduct guerrilla fighting against the Covenant until Marine reinforcements could arrive and supplement the ground forces.

      So far no one had arrived in the system, and the colonial militia had all but fled into the forests and hills outside their cities. The MAC defense platforms surrounding the planet had been newly constructed, and although they were operational many had faulty power supplies and after several shots at the Covenant armada, many shut down. After that the Covenant cruisers simply destroyed each one by one, and it was not a costly attack for them by any means. But this was no different than many of their campaigns. Since the Covenant had appeared in the outer rim of human colonies, the first of which a colony known as Harvest, they had been wiping out planets, one after the other. Entire Marine battalions had been wiped out, twice as many colonial militiamen, several UNSC fleets destroyed, and hundreds of thousands of people dead. All of whom were innocent, for the Covenant cared not who they eradicated, which was precisely their mission. To eliminate all human existence in the galaxy. Mankind was a scourge, and the Covenant would purge it from every planet in the universe, even if it meant bombarding the planet to the point where it was completely uninhabitable. It seemed the only reason a planet was not glassed was because the Covenant would land ground forces, and often retrieve items from the planets surface. No one knew what these items did, for little was even know about the Covenant, except that they were technologically advanced and very efficient in warfare.
      "Ritter, any radar contacts?" Captain Reno asked.
      "No, sir. Radar shows nothing. It's strange, didn't they say there was a fleet of Covenant cruisers here?" the young man asked with a raised brow.
      "Yes, it's odd. We'll keep our eyes peeled. Where ever they are I'm sure they'll return once their ground forces have completed whatever mission it is they're trying to complete."

      In the hangar of the Insurmountable ODST Marines prepped gear, cleaned weapons, and talked of home and of the Covenant. The ODSTs, or the Helljumpers as they were often called were the best of the best in the Marine Corps. It was an all volunteer unit, and you were not usually accepted if you hadn't seen some level of action, whether it was against the Covenant or against the rebellious men and women of the outer rim colonies. They were combat hardened troops in most regards, and were subjected through thirteen months of rigorous training on the planet Reach. The UNSC's most formidable colony, and home to much of it's military, including many black ops projects that the Marines always speculated on.
      Training to be an ODST was comprised of intensive physical training, obstacle courses, extensive classes and practical application on optics, communication equipment, weapon systems, Covenant weapons and equipment, hand to hand combat, fire and movement, swimming, mountaineering, close quarters combat, tracking and advanced observation and range estimation techniques. They ran more ranges and shot more rounds than any other unit in the Marines. They spent hours cleaning weapons and becoming experts on their nomenclature. They were proficient with every weapon organic to an infantry rifle battalion. All of them were qualified with crew served weapons and many were subject matter experts. The crowning achievement of the training was a forty five mile troop movement on foot to a barren and desolate training area on reach. There the ODST students would conduct guerrilla tactics on regular Marine infantry companies on Reach for their own training before deployment to the frontlines to fight the Covenant. They would conduct direct action raids, sniper and counter sniper courses, designated marksman courses and would even square off against one another in tap out, pass out matches between members of different platoons. After thirty days in the field against their Marine infantry brethren they would graduate and move onto drop ship training academy. There they would be put through rigorous gravity exercises and taught all they needed to know about their single man drop pods that they were famous for. The dangers, and advantages. Though it was known the dangers seemed to outweigh the advantages, a reason for the name Helljumpers, and it was a source of pride for these Marines. After completion of the training portion of the drop ship academy they would conduct four live jumps onto Reach, then be required to hump an extraction site within a time limit. Those that failed would be sent back to their units, or based on a case by case scenario were afforded the opportunity to be recycled through the program.
      "Listen up, Marines!" a loud booming voice broke through the many conversations and activities going on throughout the hangar. It was the voice of Captain Robert Shaw. He was a large, hulking man. He stood at six foot two inches in height and he was as formidable as any Elite these Marines had seen on the battlefield. He was extremely popular with his men, he was a mustang. A Marine that was once enlisted, he had been a Sergeant and was promoted for his outstanding abilities in a battle against the Covenant on Dresden. He had set many of the obstacle course records at Marine Corps Recruit Training and also at the ODST school. He had been wounded in action three times, and he took damn good care of his Marines. "I just got word from the bridge. Looks like we're about four hours out. Squad leaders, I want the Marines geared up with PCCs and PCIs completed within two hours. Your men need to be briefed, so if you haven't given your warning orders yet you better get on it. I'll be in my room if anyone's got any questions. First Sergeant," the last part was directed at First Sergeant Clay, a grizzled combat vet that many said had fought on Harvest when the Covenant first appeared. No one knew for sure because he kept to himself regarding his past combat experience, but anyone who had seen him in his dress blues knew that he was extensively decorated. He had green eyes and a typical Marine haircut, though nothing really set him apart from the rest of the ODSTs Marines except a sour face he often made when he was angry with his Marines. He would cross his arms and an ugly, almost terrifying frown would appear, and when the men of Alpha company saw that face they knew they were about to get smoked.
      "I've got nothing to add, sir," Clay said to the company commander.
      "Very well. Platoon Sergeants make sure the squad leaders get that shit done. I want the pre-combat checks and inspections checklists in my room in two hours, for every squad. Make sure you knock on my hatch before hand, though!" Captain Shaw said in his enormous voice. "Carry on," he finished as he stepped off deck and the men returned to their previous activities.
      "You think there are any Covenant women?" Corporal Marciano asked with a smile.
      "I've never seen one, but if they had 'em, I bet they'd be ugly as hell." another Marine replied.
      "I haven't seen a woman in like, I don't know, nine months?" Marciano quipped.
      "Yeah, we've been deployed about that long. I cannot freagin' wait to see one, I'm going crazy!" said Corporal Sparrow.
      Although the UNSC had mandated that women would be allowed in combat roles, and indeed many serve in Marine grunt Battalions, and have served well. There are still no women aloud in the 105th. Basic issues commonly suffered by infantry battalions have caused the UNSC command to veer away from allowing them into the tight knit, ODST community, preferring to keep it an all male environment. Most of the Marines in the Helljumpers, though they had served with women in the regular fleet, looked at women in combat disdainfully. It was something they developed once they had reached the ODSTs, and they were proud of their fraternity of warriors that they were now apart of. Some women, those that had done heroic things in combat against the Covenant had boasted that they could make it through ODST training, but they were not given the opportunity despite extensive protesting. Because of this the men in the ODST always joked that women could not survive their training, even though none had been given the chance.
      "Well, if you'll probably see one once we hit the surface. I heard Jericho VII has some spectacular beaches, and all the girls run around in tiny little bikinis. You remember that magazine article, Ramos?" Lance Corporal Yin said.
      "Yeah, god damn girls were gorgeous, but I'm not so sure the beaches are gonna be open now, man." Ramos replied with a snicker. These men's sole purpose was to kill Covenant, protecting the people of Earth and her colonies was an extension of that but for the most part they didn't think about that. They only thought about killing, and doing it as much as possible got them congratulations from their comrades, which was no greater honor. To be honored amongst the elite was their ultimate goal, so they had a somewhat morbid sense of humor, and though the deaths of innocence angered them, they rarely voiced their concern or disgust. They saw their friends as tough and rugged men, and in turn wanted to be tough, to show no weakness and keep a strong community, at least outwardly.
      The ODSTs were well known, and though they were a significant asset on the battlefield, they were not overly successful against the Covenant, just more so than the general infantry. They were always called in as support and sometimes they tipped the scale of a fight. Other Marines didn't like them, at least not when they weren't fighting next to them. Helljumpers were cocky, too cocky. When they were on liberty, they drank and they fought. They punished other Fleet Marines, especially the P.O.G.s, or the people other than grunts as that acronym meant. They couldn't stand a Marine that hadn't seen action, looked down on them and didn't hesitate to harass that Marine. But all Marines are proud, and so more often than not harassment led to fists, and noses were broken, ribs were cracked and Marines were sent to the brig or hospital. It was a way of life, though many rules came down from higher to regulate the Marine's liberty, especially that of the ODSTs. They had always said "Enough of you are being fucked up by the enemy, you shouldn't be fucking each other up too," which mostly quieted down complaints. It was true after all, Marine casualties were extremely high. Both in the fleet and the ODST's ranks.
      "Second platoon gather 'round," called out Lieutenant Williams.
      The Marines who had been joking and dreaming of the sight of young beautiful women running around on the beaches of Jericho VII grumbled amongst each other, set their weapons down and formed a school circle around their platoon commander.
      Lieutenant Williams was a tall, well built man, with a balding head of thin light brown hair. He was fairly new to Alpha Company, and indeed had just completed ODST training. This would be his first drop with Alpha Company, and if he was nervous, he didn't show it. The man was almost constantly seen with a mouth full of chewing tobacco, which he was now spitting into a bottle, since nothing else was available.
      "Squad leaders, you up?" he asked his three Sergeants. They gave him the thumbs up indicating all the Marines of 2nd platoon were mustered. "All right listen up boys. Mission is going to be pretty rough. You all got the commander's intent, to land planetside and conduct raids and fight the covenant using guerrilla tactics until the rest of the Fleet can arrive and provide support. Our job is to kill as many Covenant as we can, and to disrupt their supply lines to prevent the Covenant to advance onto any more city centers near our DZ. Additionally, we've been tasked with assisting any locals with escaping to a safe location so the Covenant can't kill them off. This doesn't include them being extracted from the planet, that's going to have to wait until the fleet arrives. As you know Bravo Company and Charlie Company will be dropping in Pelicans and we're going in one hour prior in pods. The point is to confuse the enemy, and secure safe Landing zones for the Pelicans. Squad leaders will brief you on rally points and assembly areas, we stay in squad sized elements. Nothing larger, and just harass the shit out of the Covenant, got it?" Williams asked, ending his quick brief and spitting a large bit of tobacco into his bottle.
      "Errrr…" was the low pitched, almost growl like response from the men of 2nd Platoon. So they got the vanguard duty, the hardship tour. Hitting the surface in pods was very dangerous. It's what their specialty was, but you could often land and be alone, cut off from any friendlies. The Covenant would make quick work of Marines out on their own.
      The Marines dispersed, grabbed up their weapons, threw on their gear and helmets and filled up on water, food, ammo and ordnance. They put on their helmets, which unlike normal Marines covered their entire heads. They had a polarized face shield which inside provided a heads up display that was linked to some of their weapons systems. They had motion tracking equipment which could also be linked to the mask, and laser range finders. Platoon and squad radio operators grabbed up the necessary communications equipment they would need to stay in contact with the Insurmountable and Alpha Company's combat operations center, once it was setup.
      Squad leaders and fire team leaders checked and re-checked their men's gear to make sure they had everything they would need for the initial few days of the operation. Afterward they turned the necessary check lists and operations orders in to their platoon Sergeants who then took them to the company commander.
      The last remaining two hours seemed to go by slowly as the calm before the storm seemed to envelop the Marines. Most of the didn't speak now, except for minor subdued conversations. There wasn't much laughter, just solemn talk between men who may not see one another again in just a few hours. It was part of the job, that apprehensive feeling before an extremely dangerous mission. But that was the name of the game, to jump into Hell, that's what they were named for after all.
      Suddenly the Company commander, fully geared up with his BR55HB Battle Rifle slung across his back, his M6G pistol holstered on his thigh, and helmet tucked under his right arm, entered the flight deck.
      "It's time boys, load up," he said in a loud voice devoid of any excitement of nervousness.

      Marines looked at one another, wished each other best of luck, strapped on the last remaining gear and weapons, sealed their helmets, and boarded their Pelicans. Second Platoon watched as the rest of Alpha boarded the Pelican drop ships. Afterward they moved to starboard side of the flight deck. There the Human Entry Vehicle tubes were located. Weapons and gear were stored in their compartments and the men entered the cramped tubes. The hatches were sealed. The light inside went from darkness to red, a countdown resounded in unison within each tube. The last ten seconds, the most tense, we counted down and it seemed to take ages.
      Then silence, and suddenly a powerful thruster launched each individual tube from the Insurmountable's starboard side. The thirty eight tubes shot through space like bullets fired from a rifle. They entered the atmosphere within seconds. Each turned a bright orange and red as the heat shields fended off the effects of the atmosphere.
      Within the tubes themselves, it was a rough and wild ride. The entire thing shook uncontrollably, and it felt as if at any moment it could break into a million pieces and incinerate the men inside. At last, the tubes made it through the atmosphere and plunged downed to terra firma below. Once each had slowed itself and made it's landing the tube hatch would automatically pop off and the Marine outside would immediately draw his weapon from the compartment and get as far away from his drop zone as possible. None knew how many tubes would be lost. The tubes were far from safe, and often the gyroscopic equipment would fail and the tube would tumble out of control and explode in the ground, or the navigations systems would plot an incorrect course and fire the pods into a body of water or the side of a mountain. It wasn't uncommon to lose a man or two on any drop.
      The hatch opened and the dull light of Jericho VII's dawwn flooded into the small tube. Sergeant Wesley Hawkins' face shield didn't need to automatically polarize and instead adjusted the brightness settings and contrast on his display, which allowed the ODST squad leader's eyes adjust much more easily He stepped out of the pod and quickly opened the outer compartment, grabbing hold of his M7 submachine gun. He threw an assault pack over his shoulders and hastily padded off into the thick forest sixty meters to his south. Once he was there he'd take out his navigational data device and try and locate his position. Then, if his short wave inter-squad radio, or ISR, was working he'd get in contact with the rest of his men and tell them to link up with him at the nearest rally point. He was 1st squad's leader. Alpha-2-Alpha, was his squad's call sign. He sprinted into the large forest, and instantly felt safer. He saw no movement, save for that of the slight breeze on the massive birch and oak trees surrounding him. He took a knee and immediately sifted through his pack in search of the nav-device.
      Corporal Diego Vega forced the hatch on his pod off, how lucky to have a busted ass door on this little death trap. He cursed as he wiggled his way out of the small portion he could force open. He had a bad feeling about his DZ, and so he moved as quick as possible. He opened his storage compartment, pulled out an MA5C ICWS assault rifle, and an M90A shotgun, which he slung over his shoulder. "God damn it, you have to be kidding me," he cursed again as he hopped to the other side of the tube and realized the compartment storing his food and other gear had come open during entry and everything inside was now gone. "This is the second fucking time…" he muttered to himself. He looked around his drop zone and saw that there was a decent sized forest of oaks and birch about a half a click away. However, between him and the forest was a wide open valley with knee high grass that swayed slightly in the early morning breeze. The two suns barely seemed to be making their way over the horizon. He'd better move now if he was going to get there without being seen, and he'd better move fast. He cursed once more under his breath as he took off at a light pace across the open valley.

      As the hatch of Corporal Johnny Marciano's tube opened he saw the smoking wreckage of a fellow ODST's pod just thirty meters away. He had landed close to a small glade, with nearly two dozen trees and tall grass to boot. He felt as though the smoke probably gave away his position, and assumed that there were Covenant forces enroute to find out what had caused it. He stepped out into the early dawn and saw two other Marines already approaching as quickly and tactically as possible. He snapped open the outer compartments of his tube, grabbed up his assault pack, and Assault rifle.
      "Who's was that?" asked Lance Corporal Hayate Sanada. In his hands he held the long barreled SRS 99D AM sniper rifle. He had a magnum pistol holstered on his thigh and an assault pack on his back.
      Marciano shrugged. "I don't know man. I guess we won't know till the platoon gets accountability," he tried to sound nonchalant but they knew one of their own was dead, and it could have been anyone, and that was not a very good feeling so early in the operation. "God damn unreliable piece of junk," he said kicking his own tube which had guided him safely.
      "Any word from Sergeant Hawkins?" asked Lance Corporal Shen Yin. He carried a submachine gun, and crouched behind a fallen log scanning their surroundings for any possible movement.
      "No, my ISR is acting weird, though," Marciano responded. "By the way, how the hell you two Asians run into each other so quickly?" he asked sarcastically. The two of them seemed to stick together, trusting one another more than any other member of the platoon. They said it was an Asian thing, and that they had to stick together. Despite the fact that Yin was Chinese, and Sanada was Japanese.
      "You know how it goes, Corporal," Sanada replied with a slight chuckle, "We gotta stick to-"
      "I know, I know. All right listen we need to move out quickly, probably already got Covenant on their way to see what's causing the smoke. Hopefully they didn't pick up on our pods' entry." The biggest advantage of the single man tubes was that they were too small to show up on Covenant sensors, and it allowed the Helljumpers to slip into the atmosphere without stirring up the hornet's nests they were usually walking into. But that didn't make them invisible to the naked eye. Even though they made the drop in the early morning it was still easy enough to spot the small craft on entry.
      Marciano slung his assault rifle in preparation to move. Suddenly a plasma shot crackled into the tree trunk next him and hissed as it burnt away a chunk of the hulking tree. "Jesus!" he cried out as he dove for cover behind a big boulder. Almost right after the area surrounding them became engulfed in plasma fire. It seemed that the Covenant had moved more quickly than they had anticipated.
      "Where's that shit coming from!?" Marciano cried out, trying to gain his bearings.
      "I've got six Covenant grunts and an Elite at three o'clock, about ninety meters, but it doesn't look like they're in any hurry to charge us!" Sanada replied with a shout.
      "Why?" Marciano questioned between the hissing plasma shots.
      "They've got to cross the open ground between their cover and ours. See?" he said pointing in the direction of the incoming fire. The small group of Covenant were concealed in a glade the same as their own, but much smaller. The glade had to be at least a hundred meters away and to move across it meant they'd be exposing themselves.
      The grunts would certainly try, but they had an Elite with them. The Elites were much more thoughtful when it came to tactics, this much the Marines did know .Usually grunts led by Elites fought more fiercely and far more intelligently. They normally preferred wave tactics. It seemed the most basic things they could come up with, but sometimes they had been known to flank fixed positions without the assistance of other Covenant. But small squads were often led by Elites, and when the Elites were there Marines had to be extra alert. The grunts were quick to break ranks and flee when the fighting wasn't going their way, but if they had an Elite as a backbone they'd probably fight until they were killed, or until their Elite was.
      "You have a shot on any?" Marciano asked, the plasma shots had slowed.
      "Just a sec." Sanada perched the long barrel of his sniper rifle up on the charred log he'd been using as cover. He adjusted his scope, breathed in, then out and slowly pulled the trigger. The rifle cracked out with an immense outburst and the butt stock slammed back into Sanada's shoulder. The round tore into a grunt's neck and blue blood splattered one of his nearby squad mates. The other grunt threw his hands in the air and started to run off wildly, but he was quickly snatched up by the lizard like Elite clad in blue armor, slapped around and then forced back into a covered position. "Well, I got one," he said grinning. The plasma rounds had stopped.
      "They might be trying to fix us here while someone else flanks us," Yin observed. He scanned 360 degrees in all directions. There were no clusters of vegetation anywhere nearby their glade, but the grass in the meadow was anywhere from knee high to as far as the hip. So a grunt could move through that grass and if he was slow enough it would be unseen. Especially considering the slight breeze.
      "Yeah, we're stuck. The forest is about 150 meters North of us. I don't want to make that dash under plasma fire. Even if we're not being flanked I'm sure they've got reinforcements on their way. If more of them come, we're gonna be fucked." Marciano tried to see the alien besiegers, but they were crouched low behind their cover. "Anyone in 2-Alpha, this is Marciano, anyone read me?" he questioned into his ISR. There was no response. He tried again a few more times, then finally quit. "Damn shit's not working. Or no one is within range."
      Sanada scanned the enemies' glade once more and the silence of the morning was destroyed by another shot fired from his rifle. A second grunt was now his victim. It dropped like a rock as the bullet smashed through it's skull spraying blood, bone and brain all over the rock behind where it had been hidden. It's methane gas mask has been ruptured by the round and was spewing blew material into the air. The grunts had to breathe using a special apparatus that reproduced the methane gas atmosphere of their home world. The little dog like beasts couldn't breathe without the masks.
      The Elite and remaining grunts fired a volley of plasma shots as a reply. But none hit their mark.
      "Got a second one," Sanada said happily.
      Again the Covenant fire lightened, then after a few moments it halted. Barks, screeches and deep growls could be heard from the Covenant's position, and the Helljumpers wondered what to do next.
      "Any ideas, Corporal?" Sanada asked, adjusting his scope and scanning the enemies position in attempt to find another victim.
      "Negative. I suppose we could make a break for the forest, but that's a pretty long run and I'm sure they'd start taking shots at us when we were out of cover." he said with a sigh. He fiddled with his weapon, feeling like he was unable to make a decision that wouldn't lead to their demise. "We could low crawl through the grass and try and make it, but how long do you think they'd keep their heads down before they'd realize we were gone?"
      Sanada chuckled. "Probably a while if I could get another one. Maybe if we killed that Elite then we'd be able to rush the little bastards. They don't usually stand up to a determined assault." Sanada could see the shoulder of one of the grunts but decided he wouldn't try and take the shot. He didn't relish the idea of wasting a shot. That was something he'd learned at sniper school. Make every shot count, and he had every intention of doing so.
      There was a sudden sound that permeated the early morning air. It sounded like a faint, almost high pitched engine of sorts. It was familiar to all the Marines in the glade. "Banshees!" Yin immediately said.
      The three of them began scanning the sky for the purple Covenant fighters, but saw nothing. They could only faintly hear the sounds of their engines. Was it coming for them? Or was it just on a normal patrol?
      Suddenly several shots of plasma crashed into their cover, blasting them with blistering heat that almost felt like it could burn through their protective armor. It would have, too, had it been any closer. A Banshee passed by over head, it left contrails from it's wingtips as it went and banked hard to the left, obviously attempting to make another pass.
      "Damn it, this has been one hell of a jump!" Marciano cried out as the Banshee adjusted it's altitude and opened fire once more. The rounds scalded the rock behind which Marciano crouched. The grass nearby sizzled and cooked, small fires started then flickered out as their fuel was quickly consumed. "Something tells me this will get worse before it gets better!"

      Captain Shaw glanced at his watch. It was time, the main assault would launch now, the rest of his company along with Bravo and Charlie. Hopefully second platoon was drawing enough Covenant away from where they'd be landing.
      Marines of Alpha Company streamed towards the Pelican drop ships that would take them planet side. They were all bulky, clad in armor and packed to the limit with ammo, food and weapons. The Pelicans slowly lifted off from the inside of the hangar, they passed into the darkness of space and immediately began to descend. The Marines sat strapped into the crew portion of the Pelicans, eagerly awaiting touchdown, and the opportunity to kill some Covenant. The ride jostled and shook the craft as they descended at high speed.

      "Sir, I have multiple radar contacts! Seraphs!" the radar officer called out to Captain Reno. Suddenly a fleet of small purple fighters broke free of Jericho's atmosphere and boosted their way toward the Pelican formations attempting re-entry.
      "Launch all of our Long-sword fighters! Now! Prepare all our Archer missile pods and get them firing on the nearest Seraphs. Charge the MAC gun just in case a Covenant capital ship decides to show up uninvited!" Reno ordered immediately. His officers on the bridge immediately obeyed. Long-swords were launched within minutes, but not before several of the Pelicans were shot apart and destroyed in an explosive ball of fire.

      "This is flight lead, Red 6, all fighters engage enemy contacts and get them the hell away from the Pelicans!" Commander Charlie O'Holland ordered. The Long-swords immediately opened fire on the formation of Seraphs. The Seraphs broke formation and scattered, Long-swords picked their targets and opened fire with missiles once they acquired a radar lock. The Covenant fighters continued firing on the Pelicans, making every attempt to stop this would-be invasion force.
      A bulbous purple fighter landed a burst of plasma fire on a Pelican. It wobbled then as the intensely heated plasma burned through one engine, and half the port side it flipped and tumbled out of control into the atmosphere until it exploded, killing everyone inside.
      Missile exhaust and purple white energy streaked across the black vacuum of space as the Long-sword pilots fought desperately to fend off the attacking Covenant squadrons. They were killing them off at an alarming rate, but that was due mostly to the fact that the Covenant were focusing on the drop ships attempting to insert their Marines.

      Archer missiles were being fired off from the Insurmountable, bringing down several Seraphs. One tumbled out of control, then simply floated off into space, dead.

      The Marines in the back of the Pelicans knew they were being attacked. Each said their own prayers, closed their eyes and hoped they would make it to the surface. This was the worst part, survival was out of their hands. They had to trust in fleet pilots. There was a strong bond between the Pelican pilots and the ODSTs. The pilots respected the bravery of the Marines, and the Helljumpers knew the pilots were the ones responsible for getting them on the ground. They also were the ones to rescue them from a botched operation, or provided the necessary CasEvac for wounded Marines.
      Now the men simply clung to whatever they could and tried to stay calm. They were ODSTs after all. They were the best the Marine Corps had to offer, so staying calm was a must. But it was damned difficult.
      Some Pelicans broke through the atmosphere but were pursued by a few surviving fighers. One took a few blasts of fire and crashed into a thick pine forest, smoke streaming from it's engines. The Long-swords finally managed to kill of the last few Seraphs, and were re-called to the Insurmountable. Over a dozen Pelicans had been shot down, though.
      Now as the Pelicans roared over head, anti-air fire began erupting from the ground. It was surprising at first, and two drop ships were victimized by the hot green plasma. One exploded outright, the other tumbled into the ground before detonating in a large blast. The rest took evasive maneuvers and although a few took some additional rounds they survived the valley, broke free over a mountain ridge and came to another meadow. The ships began landing, doors opened and as the ramps came down Marines sprinted off the back. Relieved to be on the ground, the fight in their hands now.

      Warthogs and several Mongooses were dropped off and immediately manned by the Marines. The Pelicans hastily took off again once their cargo was unloaded, and accelerated toward space.
      The comm channels were cluttered with all kinds of traffic. Captain Shaw's Pelican had survived the drop, and now he stood beside a Warthog trying to get radio contact with his platoon commanders, especially Second Platoon's. His turret gunner scanned the surrounding area with his 50mm chain gun. The driver sat patiently behind the wheel, also glancing around the area, his assault rifle resting near his leg.
      "Alpha 2-Actual, this is Alpha 6, do you copy over?" only static came back over the net. He tried several more times, until finally.
      "Alpha 6, Alpha 6, this is 2-Actual, read you loud and clear, over," the voice of Lieutenant Williams crackled back.
      "Roger, good to hear your voice, Lieutenant. I need a pos. rep for your main force, and an ACE report," Shaw told him.
      "Standby," came the reply. There was moments of silence. Shaw looked around the assembly area for the rest of Alpha Company. Marines were mounting up in Warthogs, or Mongooses and heading towards the rally point where their forward operating base would be set up.
      "Alpha 6, this is 2-Actual."
      "Go."
      "Roger, pos. rep is grid Lima Bravo 1623 4895, how copy?" Williams said.
      "Solid copy, Lima Bravo 1623 4895," Captain Shaw repeated.
      "That's an a-firm. I've got two squads reinforced assembled. But a few of my Marines are still unaccounted for. We're good on ammo, no casualties because we haven't had any contact upon insertion, equipment's good save for a few Marines lost a few things when their compartments came open on entry." Williams briefed the C.O. on his platoon's status. An ACE report stood for, ammo, casualties and equipment.
      "Roger that, 2-Actual. Rendezvous at rally point Charlie. We'll get the firm base set up and then we can send out some patrols to located those missing Marines." he said. He didn't like the idea of unaccounted for Marines, but it was common among single tube drops. It was good on second platoon to be able to assemble as many as they did. Two squads reinforced, was almost the full platoon. He'd get a more accurate number of the missing once they linked up with Second platoon. For now he'd have to get the rest of his company the hell away from the DZ, so they could start digging in and fortifying their position. It wasn't often that they'd set up in the defense so quickly. But with the Covenant running around in force, it would be a good idea to have a hardened position. The satellite imagery showed a clearing deep in the forest, and that's where his company was headed, it was just take some time to navigate through the thick foliage, and he hoped they wouldn't stumble on a Covenant patrol while on the move.
      He hopped into the passenger side of his Warthog. "Let's roll, Qin," he said to his driver.
      "Roger, we're Oscar Mike, sir," Qin replied as he stepped on the pedal and began driving. Three other Warthogs fell in behind his, with about twenty five meters dispersion between each. That was the C.O.'s personal security detachment. Four Warthogs with four Marines per. One 'Hog had a Gauss cannon, the other three had the 50mm chain guns. The Warthogs accelerated and sped off into the dense forest, along a thin trail.

      Corporal Marciano, and the pair of Lance Corporal Helljumpers sprinted at top speed across the meadow. The purple Banshee roared by, banked to the left and came down hard firing a string of super heated plasma. The rounds barely shot by overhead and the Banshee again passed by. It flew further now, then performed a roll and came back, slowing it's speed. It seemed the pilot meant to kill the trio this time around.
      Sanada grunted, and fumbled with his large rifle. It was cumbersome, and he grew tired quickly carrying the unwieldy weapon while sprinting.
      Shen Yin was just a few paces in front of his best friend, and he glanced back as they ran. "You okay, Hayate?" he asked between breaths.
      "I'm good, keep going!" Sanada shouted back, slightly embarrassed.
      Marciano was about three feet ahead of Lance Corporal Yin. He turned his head just in time to feel extreme heat on his face, even through the mask he wore. Shen Yin dropped to the ground, convulsing violently as his armor sizzled and melted to his flesh.
      "Shen!" Sanada cried out, halting abruptly to examine his downed friend. The Banshee had made a successful pass, he'd brought down one of the Marines. Sanada knelt down and turned the shaking the Yin over. His gear was burned to a crisp, and bits of melted flesh could be seen where the plasma had penetrated Yin's armor. Sanada could smell cooked flesh through his mask, and almost wretched.
      Marciano had stopped as well. "Status?" he asked in a somber tone.
      Sanada just shook his head.
      "We've got to move," Marciano said lightly, knowing that Sanada knew full well the gravity of the situation. He'd have to abandon his friend's corpse on this field. They both knew that he would probably be consumed by the aliens, the Grunts often ate the dead. Such was the inglorious end of Helljumpers. More often than not, they were left to decompose on some charred battlefield. No honors or funeral services.
      Sanada's head drooped, then as he steeled himself he grabbed up what gear could be spared from Yin's body. He slung his sniper rifle across his back, and easily grabbed up Yin's SMG, and what magazines he could. The Banshee was turning to make another run.
      "Let's go!" Marciano yelled, and the two of them took off running once more. They ran hard and fast. As fast as either of them had ever gone. They could see the tree line was only sixty meters away. It offered safety, protection from this deadly Banshee that would not relent. Sanada could feel his heart pounding, his throat stung and every leg in his muscle was on fire. He felt as though his legs would give out on him at any moment.
      He could hear his intense breathing in his helmet. His visor fogged, then it adjusted and cleared out the fog automatically. He could feel the perspiration all over his body. His head and hair were soaked, sweat trickled down his face and got in his eyes. It stung, and blinded him slightly. He was extremely annoyed by it, unable to do anything about it at the moment. He kept charging forward hoping this Banshee would not do what it had just done to Yin, to him.
      Closer and closer, they were almost to the tree line. Marciano powered ahead of him by a few feet. He was always a strong runner. Sanada grit his teeth and forced himself to exert more power to try and keep up with the Corporal. He could hear the distant hum of the Banshee engine. It was getting closer, the noise grew and grew. Then he could hear the weapons systems firing. The plasma rounds impacted the ground in a straight line behind him, scorching the ground and burning up any vegetation they met with.
      He ran on, his eyes closed hoping to make it safely into the trees, or at the very least meeting a painless end.
      The engine sound increased, the shots came closer, he could feel the heat. Then there was an extremely large blast. Lance Corporal Hayate Sanada's eyes opened and he was thrown forward by over pressure. His stomach slammed onto the ground and the submachine gun tumbled in the dirt four feet ahead of him.
      A fiery pile of wreckage crashed off to his left, smoke billowing from what appeared the be the remains of the purple Banshee which had hunted him and Marciano. He squinted at the wreckage then looked over and saw Marciano also on his face. The Corporal dragged himself to his feet and looked back at the dazed Sanada. "You okay, Hayate?" he asked, walking towards the downed ODST.
      Sanada wearily nodded his head. He tried to stand but his body wasn't reacting to his thoughts. What the hell? He thought.
      Marciano looked over to the tree line, from it three other Marines came out. One had a rocket launcher propped on his shoulder. The other two scanned the area for possible Covenant ground troops. Marciano got to Sanada, and using his strength he hefted Hayate up onto his feet.
      Sanada struggled to stand for a moment, he was a bit dizzy but he kept his balance and remained standing. Marciano gave the other three Marines a wave as they walked up.

      It was Sergeant Hawkins, Corporal Vega, and Lance Corporal Green. They were his squad mates and a huge smile crossed his face, though the others couldn't see it they were all elated to see one another. "Good to see you boys," Hawkins said, putting a hand on Sanada's shoulder. "I'm sorry about Yin." He dropped his head and shook it with regret. He and the others had seen the trio of Marines fleeing across the meadow but they were out of range and unable to do anything. They watched helplessly as Yin was gunned down by the Banshee.
      "At least he was avenged, Sergeant." Sanada said, glancing at the burned hulk of the Covenant fighter.
      "Motion detecting at least two dozen enemy contacts, Sergeant!" Green interrupted. He was glancing down at a small data unit that had a screen on it and was counting out the little red blips that denoted contacts. The motion sensor could pick up movement out to two hundred meters in all directions, but it couldn't identify what caused that motion. The Helljumpers already knew. "Covenant reinforcements," Green added.
      "Must be our welcoming party," Vega said in an accented voice.
      They took one last look in the direction of where Yin lay. They knew they didn't have the time to retrieve his body, and they reluctantly turned and ran off into the forested tree line, hoping to evade the Covenant forces that would no doubt pursue them.

      Back in orbit Captain Reno watched the last of the Long-sword fighters return to the Insurmountable. He shook his head, dismayed that some of the Pelicans had been lost in the drop. "Damn Covenant. How'd they know we were in orbit?"
      "They must have set up long range scanners down on Jericho VII, sir," the ships onboard A.I., Serenity said, appearing in a holo-tank next to the command chair.
      Serenity was a shimmering little figure of a young female clad in a luminescent blue flight suit. Her skin was a glowing light blue, and she had fiery orange eyes. Her voice was calm. Captain Reno had never heard any emotion in it
      "Well, the rest is up to the boys of the 105. God help them. We'll remain on station and await the rest of the fleet. Admiral Stanforth is en route with a couple dozen ships. Keep scanning with long range sensors, all across the system. I don't want any Covenant ships sneaking up on us," he told her.
      "Aye, sir." Serenity replied.

      The sun climbed higher into the sky on Jericho VII. But the ODSTs were cool in the heavily forested area they now walked. Sanada and Marciano both were attempting to regain their breath, which wasn't entirely easy while on the move. The five Marines moved in a staggered column. Lcpl Green was on point followed by Marciano and Sanada. Then it was their squad leader, Sergeant Hawkins and Corporal Vega brought up tail end Charlie.
      "Who else is left from the squad, Sergeant?" Marciano asked. His eyes scanned through the pillar-esque trees on his right, looking for the slightest bit of movement.
      "It's the five of us, and six others have linked up with Lieutenant Williams and the rest of the platoon. Everyone's okay, save for Yin and Mahmoud. That was his HEV you saw, Marciano," Sergeant Hawkins said. He had established communications with his platoon commander, apprised him of their situation and had been briefed on where the rest of the Company was moving to set up the firm base. He and the remainder of his squad, that is those that were not with Second Platoon would proceed to that location on their own.
      They were moving at a decent pace, but the Sergeant felt uneasy. He wasn't happy with his losses. Only two men from the Platoon had been killed during the landing, which was actually an incredibly low number. But it angered him, because both of those had been his, and he felt helpless now. Like he was dishonoring their memory by not charging headlong into a line of Grunts and killing as many as he could before they brought him down.
      Sergeant Hawkins was a reasonable man, but when his adrenaline started going and his blood was boiling he seemed to be over taken by a madness at times. He'd often perform risky maneuvers on his own, which had earned him a Silver Star for actions in a previous campaign, but he also had two Purple Hearts, and who knew how long his luck would hold out. Like most of the Helljumpers of the 105th, he was well built. More so than most, and he had used his muscular strength and excellent agility to tear apart an Elite with just a knife. Though the Elite had done it's share of damage. He had to be hospitalized for a few months with some broken ribs, and a broken arm and nose. His face and body were scarred from that same encounter. He had light, sandy brown hair and blue eyes. Some said his gaze was unnerving, though there was nothing malevolent behind his eyes. He just wore a hard face at all times, and rarely smiled.
      There was little sound in the forest, just the occasional bird call and the sound of the leaves in the breeze. The Marines breathed easy, if only momentarily. They couldn't let their guard down, because at any time they could cross a Covenant patrol. Green was vigilant on point, and studied the motion tracker with unceasing eyes, the Covenant had been known to use stealth technology that the UNSC just didn't understand. The office of Naval Intelligence, Section Three, had told the Marines to get their hands on any Covenant technology that they could. But they had been unsuccessful so far.
      In fact, the United Nations Space Command had been unsuccessful in most endeavors against the Covenant. They had shown themselves over seven years ago in the Outer Colonies, in the Harvest system. The ship that was sent to investigate was destroyed. So the UNSC dispatched Admiral Preston Cole with an enormous armada of ships to find out what had happened. When they had met with the alien species, they received one transmission. "Your destruction is the will of the Gods, and we are their instrument".
      The UNSC had won at Harvest, but at a high cost. No one back on Earth knew that Cole had outnumbered the Covenant by nearly three to one, and had nearly been beaten. They only heard that mankind was victorious over the alien race, that called themselves the Covenant.
      It wasn't long after that, that the Covenant showed themselves again, in another human system in the outer Colonies. Now, almost all of the Outer Colonies had been wiped out. Entire fleets had been destroyed, thousands of Marines had been killed. They staunchly defended their worlds, but to no avail. The Covenant's technology was far too superior. They could hold things together on the ground, but it didn't matter because the Navy was out matched in space. They'd tear apart UNSC fleets, and glass the planets below, making them uninhabitable. With that kind of tactic, the colonies were virtually un-defendable.
      The ODSTs knew they were fighting a losing battle. Every now and then the 105th would score a win against the Covenant, and it would raise morale, but only slightly. The crushing defeats across the galaxy drained the men and women of the UNSC much faster. There were rumors, of a secret project headed by Section Three. Specially trained troops, even better trained than the ODSTs themselves were succeeding where the Marines could not. This seemed to be a rumor to most, though. For none of the so-called Spartans, had ever been seen.
      Sergeant Hawkins had remembered when he was back on Reach. He'd thought he'd seen these supposed soldiers from time to time. They wore Navy uniforms, according to rumor. Once he'd seen to Navy men walking out of a range, their chests were decorated with a great deal of awards, and they had an arm patch he'd never recognized. He hadn't thought much at the time, but when he thought back on it, it didn't make any sense for them to have as many awards as they did. Most Navy personnel didn't have as many medals or ribbons as the men and women that fought on the ground. That patch was suspicious too….
      He shook his head, reminding himself that nothing like that really mattered. At least not here and now. His job was to get these men to the rendezvous point and help set up the firm base so that Alpha Company could execute their guerrilla war on the Covenant until the remainder of the Fleet arrived, and the Line companies started to land.
      He glanced at a translucent tactical map display on his visor. They were at least seven miles from the location where the firm base would be erected. Hopefully it would be built by the time he arrived, because he knew he and his men would be tired and need some rest. He'd much rather take off some gear and get some down time rather than jump in on some manual labor. But if the base wasn't finished, he knew he'd be required to help.

      "Most of the work has been finished, sir," First Sergeant Clay and Gunnery Sergeant Driscoll reported to Captain Shaw. All three of the men were in the combat operations center. They had removed their helmets but still wore the rest of their gear.
      "Good, auto turrets are up and running? We've got posts constructed?" Captain Shaw asked in return.
      "The posts are all up. First platoon is taking post first. We've got C-wire all over out there, we've made kill boxes, and beyond that we've got mines, tangle foot, and trip flares littered throughout the forest. We've set up several 50mm Chain gun positions, two on the entry control points, and we have fall back positions and secondary positions for general quarters if we get attacked," Gunnery Sergeant Driscoll replied, pointing to a schematic he'd drawn up of all the firm base's point defenses. "If they attack, they're going to have a hard go of it, sir," he added.
      "Very good, well done. Qin, do we have comm with the Insurmountable yet?" the Captain asked. Turning and looking at Qin.
      Qin sat a table with three other Marines, all of whom operated the COC. Qin was on radio watch, one watched sensors that monitored the perimeter of the base and the outlying area. The last man was watching a view screen which relayed video taken by an unmanned aerial vehicle that the Company had launched ten minutes ago.
      "I'm trying now, sir," he said quickly. "Insurmountable, this is Forward Operating Base Riviera, do you read me, over?" There was a moment of silence.
      "FOB Riviera, this is Insurmountable. Read you lima Charlie." came the response from the Insurmountable's communications officer.
      "Roger, solid copy."
      "Riviera, this is Captain Reno. Put Alpha Six on, over," Captain Reno's raspy voice said.
      "This is Alpha Six, send it."
      "What's your status?" asked Reno, worried that the ODSTs had taken too many casualties.
      "I've got seventy two men killed. The drop wasn't so bad for the HEVs. But our Pelicans took a lot of heat coming in. We're operable, but we're down to about a hundred and twenty five men," he said in a low tone. He had been very surprised to hear from Lieutenant Williams that all but two of his men had made it through the HEV insertion. But unfortunately seven Pelican drop ships had been shot down. Each had ten men on board. His expectations had been completely reversed. He thought the majority of the HEV Marines would be the casualties, and that the Pelicans would make it down relatively unscathed. It was irritating but he would have to adjust his course of action based on this new development. That was his job as a company commander, to adapt and overcome. That was a timeless saying in his occupation.
      "Roger, sorry to hear that, Alpha Six. We've got our A.I. calibrated. Whenever you're ready you can send your pre-designated targets to us, and Serenity will log in the firing solutions." the seasoned Navy vet told him.
      The ODSTs would utilized pre-designated targets in order to call for fire in case of a large Covenant ground assault on the Riviera. The Insurmountable would launch an orbital bombardment and help in the defense of their base. Having pre-designated targets, or as the Marines called them, target reference points would also make calling for fire easier. A Marine could simply call for fire, then adjust fire based on the TRP and how far the initial impacts were from his target. It made for faster and more accurate fires from the Insurmountable, since the calculations wouldn't be entirely made on the fly.
      "All right, thanks Insurmountable. We should have those TRPs up to you in the next hour or so. Alpha Six, out," Captain Shaw put down the handset and looked at his two senior ranking non-commissioned officers. "Let's get out there and reconnoiter the surrounding area. We'll dial in the best avenues of approach as TRPs, or any place that the Covenant can mass troops that we can't effectively cover with automatic weapons or indirect fire."
      "Roger that, sir," the Gunny and First Sergeant said. They headed outside to get a few Marines to provide security for them while they completed this task.
      The company commander grabbed his helmet and his load bearing vest. He made sure his magazines were still in their pouches when Qin interrupted the process.
      "Sir, I've got Alpha 2 entering friendly lines. What should I tell 2-Actual?" he asked.
      "Have him get his men situated. They can get some chow, and then he needs to have 2-Delta get with 1-Delta and work out a post rotation. After that he can come see me in the COC, so he can be debriefed. Let him know when he gets here, Qin, that I'll be out getting TRPs with Alpha 7 and 8. Got it?" Captain Shaw made sure Qin understood what he needed to pass to Lieutenant Williams.
      "Yes, sir. I'll let him know. Be careful, sir." Qin said back.
      "I always am," Captain Shaw said, he racked back his bolt and did a brass check to make sure that his rifle had chambered a round. After which he stalked out of the COC and into the morning sunlight.

      Sergeant Hawkins and his other four Marines crouched low in some grass. They sat there, listening and staring off into the trees, as far as they could see. They were kneeling in a circle, providing three hundred and sixty degrees of security as they rested. They'd take a ten minute security halt, make sure they weren't being tracked, adjust gear, check ammo then pick up again and head off. They had a few miles to go before they reached the firm base, and Hawkins wanted to be damn sure he wasn't leading some Covenant security patrol back to the Marine's base.
      "Good?" he asked Sanada earnestly.
      "Yeah, I'm good, Sergeant," Sanada said in a plaintive voice. He hadn't said a word since they entered the forest. Hawkins knew Yin's death was probably weighing heavily upon him. They were best friends, and Sanada saw him roasted to death before his very eyes. Sanada was young, and although he was experienced, he hadn't seen any of his close friends killed by the Covenant.
      Hawkins remembered how difficult it had been to accept his best friend's death. He wasn't much older than Sanada was now, and he couldn't understand how he had survived and his friend, Paul, had died. They had been on a recon patrol when they ran into a Covenant supply depot. Their squad leader at the time wanted to raid the place, sabotage it and escape into the night. The fire team leaders didn't like the idea, the depot was heavily guarded. But in the end a Sergeant is always right, even if he's wrong. So they moved in swiftly and silently. Of course they weren't successful. Somehow the Covenant had detected them. They took fire almost immediately after entering. Nearly the entire squad was killed when they had tried to break contact and flee back into the jungle. Paul was killed just a few feet from protective cover. Cover that Hawkins was utilizing. He had felt so guilty, selfish and distraught. Only four men returned off that patrol, the Sergeant was one of them. He was probably a Gunny somewhere now. For a long time Hawkins had wished he'd be killed somewhere. But he never had been as far he knew.
      He didn't often think about it much anymore, the situation was usually far from his mind now. Unfortunately he'd seen so many other good men die that he was able to detach himself from Paul's death. The way that he had tried to crawl to safety, and Hawkins lack of action, out of fear. That still stayed with him, and maybe that was what caused his rash actions and behavior since. Some always said Hawkins wished for death. That's why he stormed off right into it with reckless abandon. But Wesley never thought that himself. He just wanted to kill as many Covenant as he could.
      "All right, it's time to move," he said, looking around the three sixty.
      The men got up from the kneeling, made one last quick adjustment, and then re-assumed their formation and started the final leg of their trek to FOB Riviera, or the Riv as they were already calling it.

      "Affirmative, Captain Shaw. The final TRP has been programmed into our database." Serenity's calm voice said into the ODST company commander's headset.
      "Very well, good to hear," the Captain said. He looked at Gunny Driscoll and the other five Marines that were acting as Security. "We're good to head back now. This ridgeline offers some great fields of view, though. We might think about putting an LP/OP up here."
      Gunny Driscoll nodded. "I can get some materials up here in a half hour and build some basic defenses for them. If you want, sir."
      Suddenly there was an immense explosion from the forest below. Smoke billowed up from the canopy of trees.
      "That sounded like a mine!" One of the Marines observed.
      "Yeah, are we under attack?" another asked.
      "Get me the COC!" Shaw ordered. "Alpha COC this is Alpha 6, come in, over!" he tried to get in contact with them several times, and then finally got a response.
      "This is Alpha COC! We are under heavy Covenant attack. Alpha 6, we've got hundreds of Covenant infantry in the forest. They are--" the communications were cut out, and nothing but static was heard for a moment, then the line went silent.
      Another large explosion rocked the surrounding area. And then another. A flock of birds shot up from the trees and flew away to safety. "What the hell is going on!?" Captain Shaw demanded, half into the handset and half to himself. He handed the handset back to his radio operator. "We're under attack! Let's get down there and--" he couldn't finish the sentence. The small group of Marines took several bursts of blue white plasma. One man went down, his chest cooking from the intense heat from the plasma shot. He gurgled and coughed as his heart boiled and then popped. He lay still as the survivors attempted to located where the shots came from.
      They could hear the guttural barks and yelps of the Grunts around them. They just couldn't see where they had come from exactly.

      Down at the firm base Marines had scrambled to the secondary defensive positions and reinforced the existing posts. Other Marines were using what cover they could, and utilizing micro terrain by lying down in the prone if they had to. Every man scanned their sectors of fire, waiting for the Grunts and Jackals to advance. But no attack came. There was silence then.
      "Where are they? Any contacts or movement?" Demanded First Sergeant Clay. He stared out into the darkening forest with narrowed eyes. His assault rifle hung low at his hip, on safe and ready to be used whenever he needed it.
      "No one has seen a thing," replied a Marine.
      The entire company had been called to general quarters. They stood by waiting for an attack, all the remaining ammo had been brought up to the stationary gun platforms. Rocket launchers had been placed in places where vehicles were thought to approach. Men sighted in through their optics, but saw nothing.
      "Where the fuck is the C.O.?" The First Sergeant demanded. "We need to dispatch a Q.R.F. and find them!" he ordered.
      "Roger that, I can get first and second squad of third platoon mounted up now!" the company exo responded. He made a few orders into the microphone in his helmet.
      First Sergeant Clay was positioned on top of one of the pre-fabricated buildings. He watched Marines of third platoon scramble down below and mount up in three Warthogs. The engines came to life and the last remaining men piled in. The gates were opened and the 'Hogs gunned it for the exit. Just as they made it about a hundred meters outside the wire hundreds of green and blue plasma fire erupted from the forest.
      It tore into the men as they attempted to return fire as best they could. The lead vehicle opened up with it's 50mm Chain gun but the Warthog exploded and still plasma shots pounded into the charred hulk of the all terrain vehicle. Every Marine inside was killed. The second vehicle's driver had been killed right away and the Warthog slammed into a tree. Two men dismounted and returned fire. One was gunned down and the other was snatched up by a large Elite Covenant. The man struggled and was then broken with ease by the powerful biped alien. The gunner was shot down almost immediately afterward.
      The third vehicle had turned around and was accelerating back toward the firm base. One Marine had been shot and was terribly wounded. The gunner was firing away with everything he could muster. He lit up and shredded at least a dozen Grunts before a perfectly aimed purple beam lanced out of the tree line and cut across his neck. Blood spurted up and the Marine grabbed for his seared neck. He tumbled out of the speeding Warthog, into the dirt beside the road, clutching at his mortal wound.
      The Warthog made it close enough to the base to where the weapons from the base and the Marines within were able to provide cover fire but just before they re-entered an enormous green ball of plasma erupted from the forest and slammed into the side of the Warthog. It skidded off the road and rolled onto it's side. A second projectile exactly the same as the first hit the bottom of the helpless vehicle. It burned into the chassis and then exploded, killing both Marines inside.
      The rest of Alpha Company watched the carnage with grit teeth. They were angry, but also scared. They felt helpless, and worried over what they had just seen. They knew there was a massive Covenant ground force waiting out there. They also knew that once the Covenant marshaled enough forces in the area they would use wave tactics to break through the Marines' lines. The mines wouldn't stop them, none of the obstacles would either, because eventually the ODSTs would run out of ammo. But the Covenant would keep coming. Sweat trickled down every man's face. They checked and re-checked their magazines, needlessly making sure that they had rounds in them.
      Squad leaders and team leaders paced between fighting positions trying to encourage their men. It was hard enough to do, considering they too felt the same fear that was tearing at their men.
      "God damn it," First Sergeant muttered in a low tone. Shaking his head and studying the area where the massive carnage had just happened. Two squads from third platoon were already dead. It only took them a few minutes to do it. "Qin, call the Insurmountable, tell them to fire as much as possible. I want them to envelop the TRPs and the areas surrounding the TRPs."
      "What about the C.O., First Sergeant?" Qin asked from the COC, his voice cracked with nervousness.
      "We have to assume he didn't make it. You didn't just see what they did to third platoon, Qin. I doubt the Captain is still alive out there," He muttered in a solemn tone. Captain Shaw had always been his favorite commanding officer.
      "Understood, First Sergeant. I'll patch Captain Reno through to you," he replied.
      "What's going on down there, First Sergeant?" Captain Reno crackled over the net in First Sergeant Clay's helmet.
      "A massive Covenant ground assault. I don't understand how they mobilized this many so fast. But they've got us in checkmate, sir. I need you to bombard those TRPs and the areas surrounding them." the First Sergeant told him. He took up a pair of binoculars and studied the surroundings around FOB Riviera. It seemed as though the Covenant were waiting. Hoping maybe to whittle down the defenders before assaulting. Alpha Company did have a lot of firepower and were well entrenched. But Clay had never seen the Covenant care. But perhaps they didn't have the numbers to just needlessly throw away their lives. Maybe the Elites knew there was no fleet over head, and that reinforcements would be difficult to obtain. So the little bastards can't sacrifice themselves…. Hopefully. He thought to himself.
      "Very well, First Sergeant. The firing solutions will be relayed through Serenity, and she'll plot the fall of the rounds. We'll fire one salvo, then you call us for corrections," Captain Reno told him.
      "Roger that, Insurmountable," First Sergeant Clay returned.
      No sound was heard on the planet, but the Insurmountable had just fired nine 210mm rounds from cannons on her starboard side, specifically designed for planet side bombardment.
      "Firing." Serenity told First Sergeant. "Rounds away. You have nine rounds inbound, impact in ten seconds."
      Clay took a deep breath. He hoped this would obliterate the enemy attack and that they'd be so crippled it would be hard for them to mount another, at least as large as this. Unfortunately it would also wipe out their mine field, tangle foot and trip flares as well.
      The seconds seemed to pass by like minutes but then nine massive streaks came booming in from space. They slammed into the ground with a mighty force. Trees, dirt, rocks and Covenant bodies were blasted into the air. Those that were not incinerated by the shot anyways. Dust, smoke and debris exploded with the fiery blast and engulfed the base. Nine massive crashes nearly blew the Marines on post away as the over pressure flared past them.
      First Sergeant watched, almost holding his breath, waiting for the dust to settle so that he could see what the rounds had done to the Covenant.
      There was no gunfire, and it took almost five minutes for the winds to carry the smoke and dust away. The surrounding forest had been leveled by the impacts. There was massive craters. Trees had been flattened and blown a hundred feet out of place. Nothing appeared to move. First Sergeant Clay let out a sigh of relief.
      "Good shot, Serenity," he said. "Thanks." he complimented.
      "Our pleasure, First Sergeant. Guns are re-charging, they'll be up again in ten minutes." she said back to him.
      "I don't think we'll be needing them." he responded.
      Marines stared awkwardly at the destruction. Most had never seen any firepower like that, and many had only seen it rarely. Usually that kind of direct support was not given to the ODSTs, because they were actually operating out of their normal parameters right now. Ordinarily they wouldn't even have set up a firm base, and now they could see why. It gave the Covenant a place to attack them. It was much better to stay in their small units, and conduct small raids and attacks. Guerrilla warfare was their specialty, and they were straying away from that on this mission and they were paying the price. But now it seemed they had scored a major hit against he Covenant.
      Some men stood, trying to assess the damage themselves. Nothing moved, no sound emitted from the craters. The sun was on it's way down, it would soon be dusk.
      "They blasted those sons of bitches to hell!" a Marine shouted out happily. As soon as the sentence ended a dozen tiny pink projectiles slammed into his torso. He shook from the impacts, stepped back a couple of steps in disbelief. Then the pink 'needles' exploded, tore open his midsection, and showered the nearby Marines with secondary shrapnel. His bloodied corpse dropped to the ground, and he was dead.
      Suddenly massive rounds erupted like volcanoes from the tree lines beyond the impact craters.
      "Wraiths!" One Marine shouted.
      The hulking, hovering purple tanks bellowed out of the woods and fired their massive charged shots. Their pulsating plasma mortars crashed inside the wire. Spraying hot material all over men within. There were hideous cries and screams as some men were caught just outside the blast and only parts of them were melted away. They fell to the ground grabbing at sizzled flesh, writhing in pain until they went into shock and later died.
      One such man was Lieutenant Williams. He'd been crossing the open ground in the center of the firm base when a round exploded killing four men from first platoon and searing off his arm. He stood in the center of the place, in complete shock. His men from second platoon shouted and screamed at him to run to their positions, to take cover. But he just stood there, unmoving, staring into nothingness. They shouted for him, called out to him and cursed him. Then they watched as another plasma mortar struck and he disintegrated in the bright light.
      Gunfire erupted all around the base. Marines opened fire with chain guns, heavy weapons fired, rocket exhaust streaked across the air. Banshees flew by over head, firing down on the scrambling infantry. Two Phantoms lumbered by and more Covenant infantry plodded and hopped their way out of the transports.
      Gunfire poured down from the sky as the Phantoms Class-2 energy weapons screeched down upon the Riviera, slaughtering Marines and completely obliterating their covered positions.
      First Sergeant Clay had scrambled to a forward defensive post. He was pumping rounds from his assault rifle into advancing Grunts. He watched some of them pop up into the air after stepping on anti-personnel mines. Dozens were being killed by the Marines accurate and lethal fire, yet more and more continued to advance. Their fire never ending streams of purple, blue, green and whites. The rounds burned and seared into fixed positions. Toppling over chains guns, exploding unused ammo and ripping apart ODSTs.
      Casualties lay everywhere. Wraith fire continued and the shots rained down upon the beleaguered defenders. The pre-fabricated buildings roasted and burned, and then exploded. Comm was lost with the Insurmountable. There was smoking rising from every direction, and a dusty haze fell over the battlefield.
      First Sergeant Clay and the men in his fighting position threw grenades. The blasts blew apart a few Grunts and Jackals. The shield on an Elite failed and the men shredded him with their gunfire. He dropped in a pool of his own purple blood. His corpse was trampled by the dozens of Grunts that followed behind him.
      One Marine fired heavily and suddenly a glowing blue ball hit him in the chest and stuck. "Ah Jesus!" he cried out, knowing he was dead. He turned away and the plasma grenade exploded, incinerating the front of his body. What was left of him dropped to his knees, then collapsed. First Sergeant Clay noted that the man had the presence of mind in the last moments of his life to turn away and face the blast away from the remaining men in the fighting position.
      He kept firing, pouring round after round into the advancing Grunts. Another man beside him was killed by a burst of blue plasma. His bloodied and charred face stared back at the First Sergeant with lifeless eyes. First Sergeant lay there, reloading, and then staring into his eyes. He shook it off and gazed around the base. It was in ruins. Marines fought in small pockets of resistance, trying their best to hold off the enemy, but now the Covenant poured into the wire.
      The Helljumpers dispatched the Grunts easily enough in hand to hand combat. But when the Elites came it was another story. First Sergeant Clay watched, almost awe-struck by how easily the Elites had killed his men. They were shot up, struck by rifle butt stocks, stabbed by bayonets and yet it appeared not a single one was killed.
      He stood up and as he did an Elite leaped over the position he was using as cover. A clawed hand swung out and slashed the last man beside Clay right in the face. The man screamed and tumbled backward. He was swarmed by Grunts, they tore at his armor and fatigues, trying to get to his soft meat.
      The First Sergeant riddled the Grunts with gunfire, killing them but killing the Marine in the process. Then he heard that audible click, and he knew he was out of rounds. He fumbled in a magazine pouch for a fresh mag, then glanced up just in time to be caught in the face by the same Elite. His vision went black and he careened back into a tree, and fell to the ground. He did not move.
      Sporadic fire continued, until the last of Alpha Company was killed. Those that had survived, that were wounded, were rounded up and thrown in a group in the center of the destroyed camp. The Covenant formed a ring around them and stared at them with hate filled eyes. They chattered amongst themselves, sounding angry. The Marines breathed heavily, afraid of what would happen.

      Captain Shaw scrambled down the slope just in time to see the last of the Marine positions taken by force. That last Marine had fought tooth and nail, he'd even severely wounded an Elite, but was torn down by two others. Shaw stared with wide eyes as a group of survivors were rounded up. He was in shock, couldn't move, and then Gunny Driscoll and the other Marines were by his side, staring at the destruction. They all stared, mouths open. It had only taken about eight minutes. The camp was in ruins.
      Then without warning the Covenant fired into the cluster of survivors. Frying them with their weapons. The men cried out and were quickly silenced by the gunfire. Afterward things fell silent, until a pack of howling, yapping grunts were let loose on the dead. The Marines with Captain Shaw turned away in disgust, but Shaw kept staring. He was horrified. He knew the Grunts had feasted on the dead at times, but this disturbed him deeply. He shook his head, he had to do something, anything.
      "Let's go," he said. He slung his rifle and began to move as if he were planning to attack them.
      "What are you doing, sir?" Driscoll asked him, fearing that he'd move into attack.
      "Killing those bastards!" the Captain snapped and started to move. "They killed my men…. All of my men…" he mumbled.
      "Sir, you've got to stop," Gunny Driscoll put a hand on his commander's shoulder. "We have to regroup, there's still half another squad out there. We link up with them, and then we fight these bastards the way we're supposed." he insisted.
      The Captain stopped, he knew he had no chance. But what chance lay with his five Marines and the rest of that other squad? There were five with him, plus himself, that made six. Then Hawkins had five counting himself. That left eleven Marines…. Eleven from a company of over nearly two hundred. Not even a day had passed and his men were slaughtered. The Covenant would pay, somehow.
      "We don't have comm with Insurmountable," he said in a low tone, suppressing his anger.
      "Forget about them. Forget about FLEETCOM. Forget about pickup or about the mission. Let's just link up with Hawkins and his boys, and then we'll make a plan to start killing. We'll kill as many of these fuckers as we can. If they kill us then they kill us, as long as we get at least ten of them per one of us before we go down. That's what I say, sir. If we hold off long enough the line companies will be here, anyway." Driscoll dropped his arm back down. "We maneuver back into the woods, get comm with Hawkins on the ISR and pick a rally point. I'm sure they'll have stopped moving after hearing all that gunfire. Hopefully they're still out there."
      The Captain turned and faced Gunny and the rest of the Marines. "All right, let's move out."

      "Negative on communications with the Riv." Sergeant Hawkins looked as his Marines. They had halted in another security halt once they heard the massive staccato of gunfire in the distance. They knew that it had to be the Riviera under attack. It hadn't lasted long, but the battle sounded like it was enormous, and now in the dead silence they feared for the survival of their comrades. With the communications out, they feared the worst. "We have to assume they've been wiped out," Hawkins told the others.
      "Then what do we do?" Asked Marciano, scratching his thigh.
      "We wait until night fall, then we move into and try to get a better look on the camp, try and find survivors," Sergeant Hawkins said confidently. If the Riviera had indeed been attacked and over run, then it was extremely unlikely that there were any survivors. The Covenant never left survivors. But Hawkins had to try and find some, because now he just felt overwhelmed. If he had to be honest with himself, he didn't really know what to do. He had no comm with the Insurmountable, so they wouldn't think there was any survivors either. He guessed that the best option would be to located survivors, if they could, then hunker down and wait for reinforcements. But that could be a couple of days before the line companies started to land.
      "Sun should be going down soon," Vega put in. They all glanced up through the thick canopy of trees overhead. The sun had just started to set, and orange-red hue fell over the area. Birds chirped, stirred up from the fight that had happened just a few miles away.
      "We need to be mindful of any Covenant patrols. They're probably all over the area, so sound and light discipline when we move in at nightfall, got it?" the Sergeant asked.
      They all nodded, understanding the situation they were now in. They were the consummate professionals, but even so Hawkins worried whether or not they'd be able to hold it together. They were the only men left, and they were stranded on a planet infested with Covenant.
      They found some good cover and hid in some thick brush at the base of a large rocky overhang. They'd wait there, weapons at the ready, until the sun went down and the night came. They owned the night, or so they confidently believed they did.
      Crickets chirped as darkness fell over the land. Distant fires caused a flickering orange hue in the distance, and the Marines knew it had been the firm base they were headed for. They all felt extremely downcast. More than likely the entire company was gone, all those men that they had known so well and for so long. They all wanted revenge, but at the same time all of them feared their own fate. Wondered if they'd make it home to wives, sweethearts and loved ones. But even then, if they did survive it was more likely they'd be sent to some other far off planet to die against the Covenant, rather than home to see their families. Negative thoughts trickled into each of their minds.
      Hawkins knew the men's morale was shot. He looked at each one, and though their faces were masked by helmets and visors, he could tell by their motion they were upset. It didn't take an expert to tell. There were several things you could do to increase morale. One would be to score a victory, and that they'd have to wait for the opportune moment for. The other would be to keep his boys busy, that wouldn't be altogether difficult considering they'd have to be moving fast and hard to avoid the Covenant.

We are NOT Bungie, Inc.! Bungie Inc. are bungie.net!
Halo © Bungie Inc., 1999-2012, Microsoft 2012-2024
Intellectual © halo.bungie.org, 1999-2024