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Hans felt the cool air rush past him, as he clung to the side of an LAA/V Warthog, well actually heard the air. He couldn't actually feel it, the dull black armor that encased him from shoulders to chest, thighs, and shins prevented it. Hans scanned his HUD for any news updates. The Covenant fleet had decided to land on Isthmus because…who knew? The Covenant usually methodically burned a planet once they discovered it. Hans snapped back to the moving Warthog. The vehicle was loaded with about six troopers, three times the usual amount. Corporal Haney drove, Private Sedan rode shotgun, and Sergeant Finnegan manned the heavy turret mounted on the rear of the vehicle. Private Günter sat in the back just in front of the turret, Corpsman Marticelli sat on the edge of the rear of the Warthog, and Corporal Hans Stiffer, was riding on the edge of the shotgun-side. The little group of ODSTs, or Orbital Drop Shock Troopers was on their way to a small skirmish on the edge of the city known as Vertigo. Three squads of regular UNSC Marines had become engaged with a small group of Covenant Grunts, Elites, and several Brutes. ONI or Office of Naval Intelligence had thought that the small force was only a scouting force of a larger contingent of troops, armor, and airpower.
The ODSTs usually arrived in the battlefield via HEVs, Human Entry Vehicles. These egg shaped pods were dropped from orbit by a larger warship. The ODSTs were known as the Hell Jumpers, because of the outrageous levels of heat experienced when entering the atmosphere. Therefore it was quite strange when the rear guard of the regular marine delta squad, spotted a speeding Warthog driving towards their position. Six silver-mirrored visor equipped ODST were tense as they neared the action zone.
Hans unclipped his M7 SMG from his back, and slid a magazine into the corresponding slot. Similar sounds echoed around him as his comrades loaded their weapons. The tires screeched as the Warthog slid across the gravel. Hans jumped backwards from his position. The shock-absorber in his boots absorbed the impact of his stressful landing. Hans spun on his heel and ran towards the nearest door on the huge warehouse. Using his urban combat training, he smashed the door in. Several heartbeats later Private Günter and Corpsman Marticelli, rushed through the same door. The three troopers ducked under some rusty leaking pipes, and ran down half the length of the warehouse. Once at the middle of the building, they kicked down another door, and emerged, weapons up, from the shade of the building, into a black topped parking lot. In a far corner, a squad of marines was setting up a heavy machinegun turret. Hans stalked over to the nearest marine.
"Who is your CO?" Hans asked.
"That's him over there, sir." The marine replied. Hans walked over to a blood spattered marine sergeant.
"Sir, we understand that you fellas' got yourselves into a bit of a rough spot, concerning some gentlemen that aren't from around here. Is that correct?" Hans inquired.
"Like hell it is, we are in a definite rough spot." The sergeant replied.
"So I assume that you would like some help. Where can we be of assistance?" said Hans.
"Well we are busy setting up this turret, Delta is in the next warehouse over trying to find some grunts and their brute captain, and Alpha is busy holding off the elites out front. This is our fallback position. We heard a report of a Warthog…is he still driving around? Alpha sure could use some backup." The sergeant spoke.
"Sir, I am confident that we can win this fight. The Warthog is under your command. I will take Private Günter and see what we can do about the situation with Alpha. Corpsman, stay here and help the wounded." Hans said for the last time.
Private Günter fired his M7 into the grunts head. The bright blue fountains of blood sloshed onto the floor. Hans shot a burst at the retreating elite. The shark/squid like warrior's shield popped and then the elite dropped as more bullets careened into its spine. A dull stink of rotting human flesh, pure methane, and boiling tar, assaulted both ODSTs helmets. Hans rushed after the retreating grunts and surviving Elite. He slammed into a startled elite. The monster shook its mighty head and picked Hans up and threw him into a nearby supply crate. Hans got up and crouched low. He popped up and shot the Elite with his M7. The squid face roared and fired its own plasma rifle at Hans. Hans ducked down and spun around. The elite fired more bursts of blue energy at the crate which Hans was hiding behind. Then a mighty roar, followed by a loud crash which was accompanied by the sound of crunching bones.
Hans peeked over the edge of the crate. A supply crate, easily weighing several tons, had fallen on the elite. Suddenly a trio of molten hot pieces of steel zipped pass Hans' visor. The lengths of metal slid into a nearby steel beam. Hans turned a saw a large gold figure. The brute was easily eight and a half feet tall, huge compared to Hans' height of 6'3". Large cords of thick muscle rippled under the brute's shimmering gold power armor. It wielded a spike rifle in one hand and in the other a spike grenade. The brute howled at Hans. Priming a grenade of his own, Hans pulled the pin off of one of his four fragmentation grenades. With the spoon off Hans hurled the grenade at the brute. The grenade sailed through the air and hit the brute in the chest. The alien's shields flared and then the grenade detonated.
Fragments of steel flew in every direction, several pieces pinged off of Hans' chest, and then the smoke and steam faded away. The brute was stunned by the blast. Hans quickly started firing his weapon at the brute. Roaring in agony, the brute charged forwards aiming to bludgeon him to death. A long continuous burst of gunfire echoed behind the brute. The beast howled in agony. The gunfire continued. The brute collapsed, wheezing for life. Private Günter stood on its back and fired his SMG into its skull, the monster stopped whimpering.
The sight of three dead, mangled, and battered elites greeted Hans and Günter as they returned to the CP of Alpha squad. Six grunts lay at the feet of the nearest marine.
"That's the last of 'em. The little turds gave us quite the fight, but good ol' Victoria here showed 'em whose boss." Said a marine as he patted his MA5B Assault Rifle.
Dry wind blew over the warehouse compound. Sand and dust spattered the metal doors creating a tiny ping-ping sound. Isthmus was a largely desert terrain planet. The only bodies of water were the Great Lake of Wrath, and the river of St. Johnson. The area in which Hans and his squad had come from was known as the Bowl of Life. It was anything but full of life. Easily fifty or so miles across and about two hundred miles long, the Bowl of Life is a dry, arid, speckled landscape. The land was almost constantly flat, except for slowly rising hills, ridges, plateaus, mesas, and small mountains. Hidden depressions, which were caused by erosion, housed hidden caves, roads, and possibly troop positions. The population of Isthmus is focused on the edge of the lake, and river. There are several small settlements that house gambling halls, bars and other sinful creations. Other than that there is a high way that went the entire length of the bowl of Life. At each opposite end of the bowl, there is a military installation. Hans drove his Mongoose down the highway, zipping along even though there was another ODST hanging on the back. Hans was traveling to the southern extent of the bowl. Camp Kurt was located there and once the ODST squad arrived, a pelican that had been spared would take them to the UNSC warship; Post Mortem, that was waiting in orbit for the ODSTs. The rest of the UNSC 45th Fleet was engaged with the Covenant battle group that had appeared overhead. Instead of bombarding the planet with salvos of plasma, the freaks had sent down a single ship to land troops. The UNSC had quickly massacred the army, and then destroyed the warship.
Chapter Two
Victory waits!
Major Goto'na Vararee, cursed as the three brutes made their report. The crude fools had said that three human squads had held them up. When the brutes had almost won, another human squad of elite soldiers, had arrived and decimated the remaining covenant. Only Postus, Vaticus, and Ruf had survived. Goto'na commanded the frigate, The Feeding Hand. The small size of the crew, and accompanying contingent, had prompted a commander of such low rank as a major.
"Get below deck you fool! Prepare for invasion, dry climate. Get the wraiths, ghosts, and spiders ready! I want everything in order in four units, or by the gods I will have you executed. Now!" Goto'na roared. "Quartermaster? Prepare my weapons and the rest of the crews. Juju? Fetch Lieutenant Oro." He motioned to a cowering uggnoy. Several moments later a tall elite, dressed in dull blue armor appeared on deck.
"Shipmaster, you requested my presence?" spoke Oro.
"Yes brother, I need you to prepare my personal Phantom. Make sure all combat suits are accounted for, and ammunition is plentiful. I want carbines, swords and fuel rod weapons loaded. Then send for me and I will join you aboard." Replied Goto'na.
"Hail the fleet master! Ask for coordinates." He said to his COM officer.
"Fleet master requests that we head forward on full till we enter the planets orbit. Once there we are ordered to embark on the chosen field of battle. I am receiving the coordinates now." The young officer replied.
"Shipmaster! Human warship detected! There is a thermal increase all along the ship; Computers indicated that they are about to fire kinetic energy. Evasive maneuvers are advised!" yelped a junior officer. The Feeding Hand had only a bridge crew of five. The navigator plotted courses through normal space and slip space. The COM officer was in charge of communicating with the different parts of the ship, other ships in the fleet and with the various troop support ships that the frigate carried. The Ship Quartermaster oversaw fighter deployment, troop deployment and weapon deployment. The Elite Bodyguards were Goto'na s personal servants, bodyguards, and law enforcers. The last member of the bridge crew was Goto'na himself. The shipmaster normally oversaw all things and gave out orders. However, Goto'na had a very different ship, and that called for different jobs. Besides actually driving the ship and directing the ships actions from his high backed command chair, he had the responsibilities of the weapons officer. The ship was about 45000 cubits long or little over a mile in human terms, and came equipped with two fore facing plasma cannon, two more plasma cannon on the starboard and port sides, and single plasma cannon aft. Besides those large weapons the ship was equipped with four plasma torpedo tubes. The ship could carry three hundred elites, about a hundred brutes, four hundred jackals, and seven hundred grunts. The small hangar that was fitted onto the starboard side of the ship, held ten Phantom Troopships, five Spirits, 30 banshees, and twelve Seraph fighters. The contingent was enough to take a small planet. The vehicles that were sparingly supplied with The Feeding Hand, included two wraiths, ten Ghosts, five choppers, and three prowlers.
Goto'na stared at the dusty brown planet and snarled. "Let us kill their warriors, burn their homes and disgrace their names! Onward to VICTORY EVERLASTING!"
Chapter Three
There and back…
Hans came to a stop in the road, sensing that something was wrong. He looked up. Four Phantom drop ships approached overhead. Bolts of plasma dotted the road. Hans crushed the gas pedal and zipped forward. One of the drop ships followed. It fired cautious plasma bolts at him, but lack of aiming or difficult tracking caused the gun to miss. Hans raced toward a canyon only a couple of kilometers ahead. There he would have to slow down but at least the Phantom couldn't follow him. Hans slipped into the canyon road, still going at a dizzying pace, and skidded to a halt. Private Günter, riding on the back, quickly jumped off of the rear.
"What do we do? Our M7s don't have enough range to hit a target that far away." He asked.
Hans replied. "We continue to the base, it's only a couple of kilometers down the road, and then tell them what has happened. We gear up with better weapons and then head back. Let's go!"
Hans reported to the base commander, a certain Major Zellwegger. Hans told him that heavy Covenant forces were on their way. The commander immediately ordered six warthog troop carriers to load up and head out. The troop carriers made good progress until halfway through the canyon. Curses started to jump through the radio, and you could hear moans and sharp intakes of breath. Then came the five muffled explosions as the warthogs were decimated. The commander ordered Hans and Private Günter to grab some ammo, food, water, and then report to a Hornet Fast Attack Aircraft.
Loaded up with three MREs apiece, Private Günter and Hans marched to the Armory.
"Sir, I would like to receive a Battle rifle, magnum, and a SMG if you can spare those?" asked Günter.
The overweight sergeant went to a rack and pulled down a BR55 rifle, or battle rifle for short. He also handed over a magnum and an SMG. Günter took both and stood back.
"Sir, I need a M90, a M6G, and a battle rifle." Spoke Hans. Hans slung the battle rifle across his back, and clipped the pistol to his hip. The shot gun he cradled in his arms.
The loud blast of the jets that propelled the Hornet through the air, drowned out all sound of any talking or shouting. Hans clipped his belt to the Hornets wall bracket. He nodded and gave the pilot the thumbs up signal, that all was good to go. Hans felt the Hornet rise up of off the paved landing pad, and zoom forwards.
The same canyon stretched a couple of meters below Hans as the pilot hovered forward. Just then a thin line of boiling hot plasma slashed pass Hans' visor. Sniper fire, he thought. The warthogs must have been hit by a team of Jackal Snipers and some brutes maybe. He motioned for the pilot to fly higher. More sniper fire drifted upwards.
"Hey, see if you can warm those rockets of yours up…shoot the blasted snipers!" Hans said to the pilot, through their communication gear.
"Will do, sorry about the delay but have you looked forward yet?" the pilot asked.
Hans looked forward. A horrible sight greeted him as he viewed thousands upon thousands of Covenant soldiers, arms and armor. Banshees screamed across the sky in groups of six or twelve. In the vast distance, Hans spotted three fishhook shaped Covenant Warships gliding in the rear of the advancing army. The pilot angled his heavy tri-barreled machineguns at the canyon below. Dull booming could be heard as the guns belched out round after round into the eroded ground. Some of the sniper fire ceased while others became more accurate. The other nineteen Hornets did likewise, and fired their weapons into the canyon. Rock exploded, earth shattered as sixty or so rockets stitched the canyon edges, with their deadly cargo. Far below Hans, he could see three heavy LAA/V Warthogs advancing cautiously down the rock strewn road. Further down the road Hans could see twenty or so Warthogs also driving up the road. Sixteen more troop carrier variants followed. Then nine M808 Scorpion Heavy battle tanks rumbled along. Bringing up the supposed rear were hundreds of regular marine infantry. Looking above them Hans spotted twelve approaching Pelican drop ships. Each could carry up to thirty men, so that totaled the human strength in the area at about 2,500.
The Hornet lowered a bit and then steadied. Hans and Günter unclipped their safety clips and jumped. Easily thirty or more meters above the ground, Hans gripped his shotgun tight. He felt the ground slam into his legs. The shock absorbers completely dampened the effect of the landing. Hans rushed forwards to a nearby Joshua tree. He crouched behind it and waited for Günter and the other members of his squad to show up.
Seconds later three ODSTs with white stripes on their shoulders were crouched behind Hans, Battle rifles at the ready. Hans crawled forward to a little rise a few meters ahead of the Joshua tree, and then peeked his helmet over the edge. Not even twelve meters away lay a Covenant Command Post. An Elite in scarlet red armor conferred with a brute in pale bluish-purple armor. A grunt manning a large portable plasma turret, aimed cautiously at the Hornets flying overhead. Six more of his grunt comrades were arrayed three across on either side of the turret. A series of small mounds protected the encampment. Just behind the grunts Hans could make out the shape of several Jackal heads. In the rear were a jumbled mix of Elites and Brutes. Hans crawled back to his waiting squad. Speaking through their shared, private COM channel, Hans related to them what he had seen.
"Sir, I think we should try flanking them, with one of us each hitting them on the sides while the other two lay down a distraction of gunfire, then once the grunts up front are dead the remaining two will smash forward and kill the Brutes, Elites, and Jackals." Spoke Günter.
Hans thought it over for a minute, then said; "Let's get another squad over here and see if we can really tear them up, 'cause I think that we don't quite have the manpower to accomplish that."
"This is team V for Victory, we are requesting that anyone with a spare minute get over here and help us blow out this Covenant command post. We have reason to believe that this is just a first line of defense and these freaks are giving out the orders to the rest of this line. Anyone gonna help?" spoke Hans into the GROUNDCOM.
"Victory, this is Mortem and Diablo answering your help call. We have two squads willing to help. Over." Replied a soothing, female voice.
"This is Victory, Mortem and Diablo, you are still needed. We expect you in one minute. Over and out." Hans said.
Thirty seconds later eight ODSTs slipped quietly into position. Hans called the two squad leaders over, and related the reconnaissance and plan to them. The new plan was that one squad would attack from the right flank, and another squad from the left. The third squad would attack from the front and provide a distraction.
Victory, Hans' squad, was the right flank, Diablo the left, and Mortem the front. Using hand signals Hans ordered his squad to move up. They crawled through the scraggly bushes and cactus, until they were so close to the sides of the encampment that Hans could smell the pure methane that the grunts breathed, and hear the squawks and screeches of the Jackals. When two green lights winked on inside Hans' helmet, indicating that the other two squads were in position, he activated his own green light and then jumped up. The rest of his squad burst up as did the others. Diablo also jumped up and started shooting. Hans glanced down and saw a startled grunt staring fearfully up at him. Hans pointed his shotgun down and blasted the grunt out of the way. Hans jumped down into the CP still pumping rounds into the surrounding grunts. Small shrieks and screams sounded from the dying freaks. Something exploded causing Günter to fly into the air, only his legs were missing. He flipped onto the ground ahead of all the ODSTs, in the area which the Brutes, and Elites, stood hissing and growling, waiting for a shipment of weapons. The brutes had no weapons, save their claws and teeth. The elites had some plasma pistols and the scarlet elite held an activated energy sword. Günter lay moaning, then the scarlet elite stepped forward, growled, and stabbed its sword into Günter's heaving chest. Hans charged forwards and fired his shotgun at the Elite. Its shields flared, and then faded back to nothing. Brutes rushed past Hans to fight the ODST squads, flinging themselves into the well aimed gunfire of the troopers. Several brutes dropped and started moaning. Elites fired their plasma pistols at the gallant ODSTs. Hans dodged the red elite's sword swipe that came crashing down. The elite snarled. Hans pumped a 12-guage shell into the elites shield, causing it to burst. The elite slashed out sideways and caught Hans shoulder, with the pulsing blue blade. Hans stepped back and grunted as the blade came out of the wound. The elite kicked Hans' feet out from under him, sending Hans sprawling. The monstrous alien stepped forwards and started to bring its sword down in a downwards hack. Hans brought the shotgun up, using it to block the sword. The blade slammed into the barrel, causing it to bend and buckle.
A loud humming punctuated by sharp staccato bursts of a heavy machine gun firing, sounded nearer as the elite stood over Hans. Suddenly the front bumper, wheels and gears of a Warthog jumped the edge of the nearest rise. The Warthog careened into the elite, causing a loud snap and some crunching. The Warthogs gunner drilled all of the surviving elites with bullets. Then all was silent. The passenger of the Warthog got out and walked over to Hans.
"General Prescott, Third UNSC Marine Division. You've done a mighty good job here, Corporal Stiffer. Damn proud, I am. Anyways, enough chit-chat, do you see that hill over there?" He pointed to a small rise that had Banshees patrolling the skies around it, and every so often a banshee would land, take a few seconds to reload on fuel, and then take off again. In between the hill and the forward line and the hill, there were hundreds of Covenant soldiers, and ODSTs, Marines and Colonial Militia all fighting within an area the size of a basket ball court. A frag grenade detonated and two or three elites were thrown into the air. A grunt clutching two primed plasma grenades charged forwards and detonated amongst a group of Colonial Militia, causing six or seven arms, heads, and legs to burst into the sky. A Warthog charges forward into the covenant forces only to be blown apart by a Wraith's energy mortar. Turning his attention back to the hill, Hans noticed that whenever a Hornet or Pelican flew near, about eight or nine plasma turrets would start to fire on the aircraft.
"Yes sir I see it." Hans replied.
"Well I want it. Blow the hell out of it, capture it, or just drop a bomb on it, I don't care, just as long as you get rid of the damn Covenant air support. The Sixth Marines has already moved in armor, and just got done downing a flight of Phantoms. I want results! Move out!" the general yelled.
The general climbed back into the Warthog and said something to the driver. The warthog turned around and sped back towards a pelican.
Hans turned around and looked at the UNSC military might. The mouth of the canyon, about three miles away was choked with battlefield bound warthogs, mongooses, and several Tiger self-propelled artillery platforms. Somewhat closer to his vantage point were several tents housing field hospitals, and COM stations. Hundreds of Marines moved forward to fill the small holes in the offensive thrust of the army. In a clear area about thirty meters in front of Hans, was the LZ or Landing Zone, that Hans and the other squads had just secured. Eighteen or twenty Pelicans were dropping off supplies, ammunition, men and vehicles. Hornets buzzed overhead, occasionally firing missiles into the Covenant hoard. Some Hornets were engaged in fighting off Banshees and Phantoms.
Hans returned to his present situation. He was wounded, in his right soldier. Gunther had been skewered by the Elite Major, and Diablo had lost two men. Hans' wound wasn't bleeding, due to the fact that the sword was made up of extreme heat, immediately cauterizing the wound. The wound had gone from his bicep then almost all the way to his pectoral. Whenever Hans tried to move his arm, a dull ache assaulted his whole right arm. He needed a medic.
"Hagen…Richards…Go load up on ammo, then wait at the Aid Station." Hans growled. Walking towards the Aid Station, Hans was approached by an ODST, with a red cross surrounded by a pale white field.
"My name is Carol Hudegeten, UNSC Corpsman. Get over here, so I can help you." Said the approaching, obviously female (as evident by her female voice, and shapely figure) ODST. She unpolarized her helmets visor and peered at Hans' wound. She had pale green eyes, full lips and a delicate nose, eyebrows and cheekbones. She ripped off Hans' pauldron and removed some of the black body suit that was damaged. Reaching down to her medics' bag, she pulled out a can of biofoam, some bandages and a pill. First, Carol cleaned the wound of melted armor, thread, and dirt. Then she bandaged the wound. After pulling the bandages tight she inserted the tip of the biofoam can into the small space between his bicep and bandages. Carol pushed on the button on top and foam started to fill the space where the sword had cut him. The foam slowly solidified and the inside of Hans' arm stung.
"Remove your helmet…you need to take this pill." Spoke Carol.
Hans reluctantly removed his helmet, with a sharp hiss as the helmet unsealed itself from the rest of his armor. A slight gasp escaped from Carol's lips. Hans had dark black hair, blue eyes, and a strong chin. However he had several large scars criss-crossing his face. Aside from that fact, Hans was probably quite handsome to Carol.
"Thank you…for helping me." Hans said before he popped the pill into his mouth.
"You're welcome, Corporal. What's your unit?" Carol asked.
"Sixth Marine Division, 231st ODST Detachment, 45th Platoon, Team V for Victory, ma'am. May I ask what unit you belong to?" asked Hans as Carol and he walked over to the Aid Station.
"Sixth Marines, 231st ODST Detachment, 21st Platoon, Aid Station." She replied.
An energy mortar sailed through the air, screaming through the air above Hans and Carol. The shimmering blob of ionized gas crashed into the Aid Station, causing it to burst into flames and explosions. Hans saw Hagen and Richards tumble through the air.
"Damn…there goes the rest of my squad!" said Hans. "Corpsman, go help the wounded. I'll round up a squad and take out that wraith. Go!"

Chapter Four
Fury
Goto'na felt the blade enter the humans weak body. The human grunted in pain, then went limp. Lieutenant Oro fired his needler at a group of masked warriors. One of the weak creatures screamed as the purple, shimmering crystalline needles thucked into the humans chest. A few moments later the needles detonated, spraying the two Elites in a crimson mist. The blood had no discoloration on Goto'na's armor, as it was already a bright crimson, with gold details. Blood however did have a negative effect on his vision. With his Flight variant helmet, Goto'na could view maps biosigns of his soldiers, his ship report, and shield levels.
The group of five human scouts had been eliminated. The wraiths firing position was safe. Goto'na watched as a Wraith charged up its main cannon and then discharged it. The throbbing ball of plasma crashed into an advancing column of human marines.
"What happened to the front line of defense? By the gods, Rufus you will hang if you eat another bite! Damn you! Guards, set up a gallows! The brute will hang for treason!" roared Goto'na as a brute in minimal blue armor devoured the remains of a human marine. Feasting on the dead was a crime in Goto'na's book. Eating the dead, even if they were humans, was a bad omen.
A sharp crack split the air around the wraiths, as a human tank appeared over a sharp rise in the ground. The human shell missed the wraiths but crashed into the earth between them. Six elites and about seven brutes vanished from existence. Goto'na swore, then ducked as a second shell followed the first. Goto'na primed a plasma grenade and threw it at the tanks main hatch. The grenade fused to the metal and detonated. The tanks hatch melted shut. The Wraith behind Goto'na fired its mortar and smashed the tank to pieces.
The ground beneath Goto'na was aflame and ruined with the bodies of man and elite. The burnt and blackened skeletons of Warthogs, Wraiths, Ghosts, Scorpions, Pelicans, Hornets, Banshees, Phantoms and even a small frigate, littered the ground. Only small skirmishes existed now, as both sides withdrew temporarily for the night. While it was true that both sides possessed the capabilitie to fight at night, they chose not to due to huge casualties. The Fleetmaster predicted the losses of life were as follows.
Elites: 80,000 Brutes: 120,000 Jackals: 220,000 Grunts: 1,900,343
The losses were appalling…Goto'na was horrified. His own personal Phantom was even shot down. With half of his crew deceased, Goto'na could barely fly his ship.
"Shipmaster Goto'na Vararee, Heed and Stand to. Cease further engagement with the enemy. Goto! Stop firing, damn you! Aargh!" growled the Fleetmaster. Goto'na ignored his superior officer, but he didn't care anymore, not since his crew had been slaughtered. Goto'na fired his plasma torpedoes at the nearest human camp. The twin blue lengths of plasma detonated. The night was lit up with huge explosions; the torpedoes had hit an ammunition or fuel dump. Just then Goto'na felt his head snap forward as bursts of plasma rifle fire knocked his helmet off. Goto'na spun and drew his sword. Six white clad elites stared at him. Five wielded swords of their own, while one held a glowing plasma rifle.
"HOW DARE YOU INTRUDE ON MY SHIP UNINVITED AND WITHOUT WARNING? COWARDS! YOU WILL ALL BE DAMNED!" roared Goto'na. He charged forwards and jabbed forwards with his sword. The nearest elite parried the blow, and jabbed forwards. Goto'na also parried the blow and ran his blade up the arm of the elite. Off came the elites head. The other five growled.
The blade slipped out of the third elites back. More purple blood splashed to the deck. The fourth quickly followed. The fifth put up a gallant swordfight, but fell also to Goto'nas' blade. Six bloodied corpses adorned the decks. Goto'na Vararee was not a shipmaster to be dealt lightly with, for now all the covenant would feel his fury!
Chapter five
Carol
Hans pushed the lever forwards. The M808 rumbled forwards and groaned as the machine tried to come over the rise. Once it cleared the ridge the Scorpion rolled down the reverse side. Grunts squealed as the huge treads crushed and mashed them into their brothers. Hans turned the barrel to the left and fired. The tank shuddered as the shell exited the barrel and slammed into a pack of Brutes. The monsters howled and shrieked as their chieftain was split in half. Metal spikes stuck into the 4mm thick steel armor. Turning the turret another 90o to the left, Hans fired the main cannon. More Brutes were tossed into the air.
The scorpion grumbled to a halt. Hans pushed the hatch up and climbed out.
"That was a mighty fine job you did, Corporal Stiffer. I believe some rest would be in order for you. Your past endeavors should result in a promotion, don't you agree?" asked a Major, dressed in a dirt encrusted, blood soaked, mud caked marine uniform.
"Yes, sir, thank you sir." Hans said.
Hans surveyed the battlefield, from his height aboard the Pelican. The UNSC line had moved forwards about six miles from their starting point at the mouth of the canyon. Human losses were estimated at per service levels, as follows:
Regular Marines: 450,000 out of 600,000 dead, Colonial Militia: 350,000 out of 350,000 dead, ODSTs: 30,000 out of 40,000 dead.
Hans stared at the ceiling, trying to drift to sleep. His helmet sat on the crate next to Hans' crate. His battle rifle rested against the crate, overshadowing his chest piece, gauntlets, pauldrons, shin guards, and boots. Hans wore only his black body suit.
"Hello?" spoke a somewhat familiar woman's voice.
"Yeah? Come on in." Hans replied.
A shapely figured ODST entered the small temporary tent. Hans sat up and cocked his head.
"Corpsman what are you doing here?" he asked her.
"Just want to talk, that's all…is that ok?" Carol asked.
"Yes ma'am that's perfectly fine" Hans replied.
Carol sat down on the edge of Hans' cot. She unsealed her helmet with a sharp hiss. Setting the helmet down on her knee, she untied her amber-light brown, dark honey colored hair, from its ponytail.
"So what happened since your squad mates were…killed...after the mortar went off?" she asked.
"I went to the front lines and fought some more. After that I went to help some marines with a group of elites. After that I hitched a ride on a Scorpion and went to the nearest CP. I still don't have a squad…" he replied.
"Well I found no wounded soldiers from the mortar blast, only burnt lumps of flesh. After that I went to an armored platoon and stitched up a couple of wounded, then found the Major and asked him where you were…" she answered.
"Wh—why did you ask for me?" Hans said.
"Well because I knew you would be lonely, and I think…" she drifted off.
"What? You think what?" Hans said with a slightly confused tone.
"Err, your very…likable. I think I like you, well I think your quite handsome and…all these other things, but I don't think that a warzone would be the best place to tell you all this. I'll just go now…" she said in a rush. She started to get up and pull her helmet on when Hans said firmly: "Carol, I don't know if I like you the same way, because I barely know you. Talk to me some more, then I can decide for myself. "
She stopped, and turned.
"Hans…i…I…I don't know what to say." She said.
"Tell me more about yourself." Hans spoke.
She turned and sat down. "Well I am 26 years old, I think, and I was born on Earth. My father died when I was thirteen, he was a colonial soldier on Harvest. My mother and I lived on Caius IV when we heard the news. Mother went out and got herself drunk, then slept with a violent soldier by the name of Sergeant Wister. The sergeant beat her to death and then was shot by his superior officer. I was an orphan by now and resorted to a life of crime to sustain myself. I stole, murdered, lied, and cheated to get the money I needed for food and shelter. Then one day the Covenant attacked. The UNSC loaded up a couple of merchant ships with civilians and government personnel. When a squad of Marines moved through the crowds asking for volunteers to fight the Covenant, I hollered and said sign me up. They got me out of Caius and back to earth. Once I was back home they stuck me into a training camp and taught me how to fire guns and how to fight. When I excelled at their training one of my COs recommended that I join the Helljumpers or ODSTs. I did as he said and went to ODST jump school. The General in charge of training, decided that I would be a good medic. I decided to listen to him and went to Advanced Medical Training School. I graduated in 2554. Fought on earth for a year then they moved me to Isthmus. Seemed to think that the Covenant still wanted to put up a fight. They said that even though the war was declared over, communications was slow, due to the fact that Isthmus is about two years away from earth, by slipspace. Huge amounts of troops had been moved their to defend the shipyards that were housed here. And that's my story. What about you?"
"Born on Isthmus in 2541. Mom was a Captain of the UNSC Protection. Her ship was destroyed along with all crew, at the Battle of Confucious. Father was a doctor aboard the Hopeful. Well you know what happened to him. Joined the Regular Marines and got promoted, then when the Covenant glassed Reach. After seeing a Spartan, one came here, you know, it wasn't the Masterchief but still. I was inspired to become a Spartan. They told me that it was a job which you were chosen for, not given. I was instilled with the belief that I should be the most elite soldier ever. One day three ODSTs came to the local base and offered to recruit any volunteers. I was the only one to join up. And then they sent me off to ODST drop school."
Sudden booms sounded very near to the tent. Several startled yells sounded from the other tents. Several screams echoed, followed by gasps.
"what—what's going on!" asked Hans. Carol peeked her head through the tent flap, scanning the other tents.
She turned back in and said "Shh, Elites in stealth armor, get your gear on."
She came back inside and slipped Hans' helmet over his head. He reached down and pressed his chest piece into place. Carol picked up his thigh plates and strapped them on. When the rest of his armor was properly adorned, Hans picked up his battle rifle, and sat down.
"Carol…go sit in the corner, and take this." Hans said to Carol, and then handed her his sidearm. Suddenly the tent flap moved, but no body parts could be seen. The flap opened more and the shilloute of an elite became apparent through the haze.
Pop-pop-pop, went the battle rifle as the three round burst caught the elite in the helmet. The lizard man shrieked in agony as its helmet split down the middle. The elite charged forwards and knocked the battle rifle out of Hans' arms. Hans not knowing what to do, punched the elite in the eye. The now visible elite stood startled. Hans kicked the elites feet out from underneath it and dropped. The angle of his drop allowed Hans to bring his elbow down on the elites head. A dull crack came from the elites skull. The elite punched Hans and sent him sprawling. Getting up, violet blood streaming from its face, the elite activated an energy sword and started to bring it forward, then a single gunshot split its face into three pieces . The sword dropped and deactivated. Hans stood up and looked over at Carol. Clutched in her hand was the sidearm, smoking from the round that had become recently enlodged in the elites head.
"Your welcome…here." Carol said as she handed him his pistol back.
"Thanks…thank you Carol…" Hans replied.
Chapter Six
Heroic
Hans activated the sword. The sudden sparkling blue blade blinded Hans for a moment then passed. The sword wasn't even heavy, although it was quite long. He deactivated the sword and strapped it to his thigh. The battle was still going, and if possible, was becoming larger and more violent. Hornets screamed by overhead and fired their tri-barreled cannons into the Covenant army. The sky was nearly rid of Banshees and Phantoms. Only several Wraiths continued to fire, but they were lacking accuracy and spotters. Tiger artillery platforms slammed shells away at the rear of the Covenant army. However, the number of Covenant infantry had increased. Covenant weapons had become more accurate and the amount of variance was increasing. Needlers were more common, bruteshots were proving devastatingly destructive against normal marines. Several brute chieftains had been spotted using dual human shotguns.
The sky was a dull gray, as the smoke, ash, steam, gunpowder, and pollution clogged the air. Fires burned constantly, often caused by artillery hitting some supply or fuel dump. Covenant Anti-aircraft fire was shooting down several Hornets and Pelicans a day. The Covenant had erected huge anti-aircraft guns that could blow a small frigate out of the sky. They also doubled as artillery and field guns. In some marines' foxholes one could find that the marines were up to their knees in brass bullet casings.
Hans stared out at the battle. Then something caught his eye. There were three objects falling from what appeared to be space. The dots grew larger until they smashed into the ground, leaving huge craters. A mile high column of dust and dirt cascaded like a geyser of earth, where the objects had impacted.
Hans' radio burst to life. Several strained voices all spoke hurridley into their radios.
"What the h—its moving! All units get out of there!"
"Sir its taken out all our forward positions. Sir I—th—w—Aaaaugh!"
"Sir…it's…they're…Scarabs. Three of them. The middle one just blasted the front lines to pieces."
Hans magnified his viewscreen and zoomed in on the scarabs. With four monstrous legs, great eye resembling turret, and pale purple, green, red, blue and black armor, the Scarabs were terrifying.
Off to the west Hans noticed huge enormous rainclouds, with bright gold and blue flashes of lightning echoing from within the clouds. He spotted rain falling from the heavens.
"45th ODST platoon? Report to the PHQ, for further orders. We need to take out those Scarabs before they hit the artillery or LZs." Spoke Major Clearwater, the new CO of the 45th.
A huge column of green status lights winked on Hans' HUD.
Hans stepped into the huge prefab structure, which served as the HQ for the 45th. About twenty three ODSTs remained out of the sixty that were originally in the platoon. Six or seven ODSTs had missing pieces of armor and one or two had a cracked or partially melted helmet. Almost all of the ODSTs had Covenant carbines slung across their backs, or needlers strapped to their hips. Only a few carried plasma rifles or Spikers. Hans was the only one with an energy sword.
"The majority of our officers are dead, as are our men. The UNSC has decided to only send ODSTs to kill the Scarabs. The 34th,2145th, and 671st are also going to assist. We will split into three groups. Sergeant Stiffer, will take ten soldiers and kill the first. Lieutenant Kibbler will take twelve and kill the second. I will take about sixteen men and kill the last. Remember the weak spots are the legs. Climb the legs if you can, then kill all covenant aboard and blow it to hell. Now go kill some Scarabs!"
Hans dived head first into a crater. The soldiers following Hans also found cover as a grunt manning a plasma turret, fired on their advancing group. A corporal named Reese was caught out in the open. The torrent of plasma, that cascaded down from the turret, sliced into the ODSTs armor. Steam and smoke drifted from the female soldiers chest and shoulders as the plasma melted through the steel armor. Reese screamed and shrieked in pain. Hans shut off her COM channel. As more plasma cascaded down the small riverbed where Hans had led his group of soldiers. A certain Private Andrews poked his head up over the edge of his piece of Covenant Banshee, that he was using for cover, and fired his battle rifle at the grunt. The creature dropped like a stone and the plasma fire ceased.
Rain started to fall, and with rain comes mud. The mud was thick and sticky. Hans trudged up a hill, mud hindering his every step. The Scarab was just at the ridge behind the hill, firing its main cannon into the rear of the UNSC army. Hans had lost three more ODSTs along the way. Reese had been cut down, then Donovan, followed by Charlie. With only seven troopers left, Hans would be hard pressed to destroy a single scarab. Carol was in the group being led by Liertenant Kibbler, so Hans didn't have to worry about her being hurt or killed. A plasma grenade sailed down from the top of the hill, and stuck to a troopers chest. The man screamed and panicked. Hans ran down and ripped the mans chest plate off and hurled it away. The timing of the detonation resulted in Hans, and several marines knocked down. The man stood astonished.
"Sir…I…how…wh—why did you do that?" the trooper asked.
"I don't know. It just…seemed like the right thing to do." Hans replied.
The rest of the group continued up the hill. Hans watched in horror as he saw several limbs and heads fly skyward. He could hear the triumphant howl of the brutes as they minced and sliced their way through the seven men. Hans slung his battle rifle across his back and drew his energy sword. He slowly crept up the edge of the hill and found six brutes feasting on the ODSTs. One gold armored captain stood over the other hunched grey and blue armored brutes. The captain had his back turned to Hans which was his worst mistake. Hans stabbed the sword through the brutes back and heard the beast gasp as its left lung collapsed. The brute shuddered and then fell with a loud thud. All five brutes looked up and growled at him. Hans stood and growled back. The brutes, offended by the growl, sat up. They all towered over Hans. Lunging forwards Hans stuck his sword into the nearest brutes face. It collapsed, dead. Hans spun and hacked anothers' arm off, then ducked and stabbed it in the stomach.
The last brute groaned and fell. Hans pulled the sword from its back and deactivated it. The Scarab was only a couple of meters away now, and was still firing its cannon into the human side. There were absolutely no covenant infantry below the Scarab. The monstrous marvel of engineering stood several hundred meters above the ground and was supported by four humongous legs . Hans had no idea how to get to the top of the Scarab. He studied the legs and noticed that, if one was careful enough, that they could climb the legs and reach the main floor. Hans ran forwards and jumped onto the nearest leg. The metal alloy wasn't slippery but wasn't a solid surface to grip on. He clambered up to the 'knee' and then looked up. He was almost at the top, and only had a few meters to go. However, the armor above the knee joint was perfectly smooth, and as such Hans could not climb up any farther.
Reaching down to his belt, Hans retrieved a length of rope and started uncoiling it. Once Hans had a sizable length, he tossed one end over the armored joint and then caught the other side as it came back down. Hans caught it and tied it off, then was jostled around a bit as the scarab walked forwards. Hans pulled the rope and made sure it was sturdy enough for his weight. Once satisfied that it would hold, Hans jumped off of the leg and dangled in the air below the Scarab. Hans pulled himself up the rope and stealthily crawled up onto the armored area above the joint.
Hans heard a roaring noise behind him and turned to investigate. Three Hornets were firing their machine guns at the Scarab. The one farthest on the left noticed Hans.
"What the hell are you doing soldier? How did you…aw nevermind, keep going, son!" the pilot said into Hans COM channel. Hans noticed that on the Hornets right side there was a device that looked a lot like a camera.
Hans jumped onto the main deck and grabbed a startled grunt by the face mask. He pulled the mask off and then picked the grunt up and hurled it over the edge. A brute in black armor charged at Hans. The beast wielded a spiker and a brute shot that was strapped to its back. Hans drew the energy sword and slashed the brutes stomach. The mongrel howled in surprise and pain. Hans jabbed the sword into the ape/rhino like monstrositys' face and stepped over the body.
"Please…please…d-d-don't k-kill m-m-m-me…p-p-please" whined the grunt right before Hans skerwered it with his blue energy blade. Hans reached the last member of the Scarabs crew, an Elite in white and gold armor. The elite spoke, although it was incomprehensible to Hans, in its raw form. However Hans' helmet was equipped with Covenant Speech Translator, so the translated speech goes as follows:
"Damn you weak human, for you weild the sword of our race only. You will be cursed from the great journey. I am going to kill you and the rest of the humans. Your race has put up a stubborn fight but your field masters will, will falter with the coming onslaught. Your cannon fire has slain dozens of my brethren, your aircraft shot down hundreds, and your guns, massacred thousands. You are my equal, a fellow genetic elite. We are the best of the best, but I will prove stronger." And with that the elite activated twin energy swords.
The resulting fight was destructive. The elite had had decades of training on how to use the swords, whilst Hans had had a few hours. The battle was quick. Blades whirling and sparking the two fought hard. The elite made a lunge for Hans back, but Hans spun quicker, and sliced off both of the elites arms. The monster stared.
"Finish me demon, do not waste my life to mock and torment me!" the elite hissed.
Hans pushed the blade into the elites chest and felt it twitch, then go limp.
Hans turned to the control panel and primed a stolen plasma grenade. He set the explosive on the driving and firing controls and ran to the engine room. Once there he set up two spike grenades and four plasma grenades next to the core. Hans stopped for a moment. How would he escape the explosion? Just then Hans was hit by a carbine round right on his hand. The fragmentation grenade in Hans' fist started to smoke and hiss. The round had activated the grenade! Dropping the grenade Hans ran to the edge of the Scarab and jumped. On his way down, Hans heard a small explosion. Then Hans hit dirt, or mud to be correct. Hans felt heat on his back as the Scarab started to detonate.
Chapter Eight
Lovers
Carol watched as the Scarab nearest to her detonated in a huge explosion of metal alloy, plasma and circuits. She had seen Hans drop from the Scarab and then the explosion happened. Lightning flashed and crackled around the area of the main wreckage of the Scarab. The rain started to pound harder. The once dried up riverbeds were now raging torrents of rivers. Carol felt a volley of plasma rifle hit her bust. She turned and spotted the Jackal sharpshooter and blew its head apart with a burst of gunfire from her battle rifle. Only six out of twelve soldiers remained. They were just contemplating how to get to the top of the Scarab, when the first one had detonated.
Carol stared blankly at nothing, while silently hoping that Hans was alive. She barely knew him but still felt that he was all she had.
"Corpsman, get some artillery fire on this Scarab, if you please" yelled her acting CO. Carol opened her map and found out the grid coordinates for the Scarabs position. She relayed them to her CO and he, in turn, relayed them to the Tiger platforms. Carol heard the muffled booms as the artillery shells fired towards the Scarab. The crimson shells streaked through the smoky sky and careened into the scarabs legs and main section. One of the 'knees' snapped and broke. The scarab adjusted its weight to support itself better, as it was now lacking a leg.
Carol watched the third scarab become consumed in a ball of nuclear flame and heat, as the Shortsword-class bomber dropped a mini-nuke on the scarab. The blast was very small only consuming the Scarab and a mile around it. Our Scarab still stood only barely though. More artillery slammed into the Scarab, causing a large section of hull to fall away. The most noticeable thing from the sudden lack of armor, that allowed Carol to see the gold and white elite stumble as its shields attempted to recharge. Carol sighted through her battle rifles scope and let the crosshairs rest on the elites open mouth. She squeezed the trigger, twice. A mist of purple spray was all that remained of the elites head. A Hornet buzzed by overhead and fired a rocket at the open hole in the hull. The Scarab exploded from the inside out and collapsed.
"Sir, we have successfully destroyed the three Scarabs. However, only one team has returned. I was wondering what happened to Sergeant Stiffer's group, and Major Clearwaters' group?" Carol asked General Prescott. She was in his HQ searching for Hans.
"The fate of Sergeant Stiffer and his men is assumed dead. The explosion of the Scarab was enough to melt its armor so there were no bodies. I am sorry to say it but they are gone. Major Clearwater and his me, were caught in the blast of the nuke. I am sorry for your comrades deaths…" the general trailed off.
"Thank you, sir." She said, trying to hold back tears. She turned to leave, but turned back to the general and asked; "Sir, can I have permission to take a Warthog to investigate the Scarabs debris?"
"I don't see why not, but be careful, the Covenant aren't going to be happy if they see you."
Carol mashed the gas pedal down and lurched up the hill. Mud splattered her helmets visor and chest. The Warthog inched up the muddy hillside and came to a stop at the very top. Carol got out and looked over the edge. Several dismembered brute and ODST bodies lay in grotesque positions. She picked her way down the other side of the hill and climbed up the mud covered ridge in which the majority of the Scarabs hull still resided. Unslinging her battle rifle, Carol stepped forward. A gold and white piece of still half melted armor remained of the Elite pilot. She scanned the area with her green eyes searching for any signs of an ODST. She wandered through the wreckage, finding nothing. She stated down the hill, when something grabbed her ankle. She turned and looked down. A wounded ODST was half covered by a large chunk of armor. Hans. His visor was shattered and cracked. One of his arms was bent at a wrong angle. Carol knelt down beside him and pushed the heavy piece of armor-alloy off of him. The rest of Hans was unhurt, aside from his face which had several new gashes across it. His arm was broken and mangled.
The Warthog spun around and slid down the muddy hill. Carol put the petal to the metal and zipped back to the rear of the UNSC army.

"Oh my—he—where did you find him!?" asked General Prescott.
"The remains of the Scarab. He needs a new suit of armor, the stronger the better. Can I clean him up, take care of him?" carol asked pleadingly.
"Yes, yes, yes of course." The General replied.


Carol slipped Hans' helmet off. He was still unconscious. She removed his chest, shoulder and gauntlet pieces too. Once she had him stripped of all his armor and black body suit, she looked for any wounds she might have missed. Hans had a muscular body, with a six pack and everything. There were several minor burns along his chest which Carol applied burn cream to.
"Uh, ma'am? This is the new armor, Gen. Prescott asked that I give it to you." A short African American marine said. She pushed a large crated towards Carol, through the tent flap. Carol removed her own helmet and set it down. She untied her hair and let it fall. She stood up from next to Hans' cot and pried open the crates lid. Inside was a totally undescribable ODST suit. She pulled out the new jet black light absorbing body suit.
Hans stirred beside Carol, coming awake a few seconds later. He winced as he felt his broken arm, and various burns. He stood up and let Carol slip his legs through the front of the body suit. Once Hans was covered, Carol found his left gauntlet and clamped it to his arm. It sealed to his arm with a small gasp. The gauntlet would allow Hans' arm to heal, while allowing him to use it.
In an act of gratitude Hans leaned forwards and kissed Carol on the cheek. She blushed and stared at him for a minute.
"What was that for soldier?" she asked him.
"For saving my life. Thank you." He replied.
Carol leaned forwards and kissed him on his cheek, only for a brief second though.
"Now what was that for!?" he asked startled.
Carol looked at him and smiled. Then she strapped his shoulder armor to his shoulders. After putting all the armor on except for the helmet, Carol looked at him and said: "You wouldn't believe what you look like. Its so different from the rest of ours."
"Is that a good thing?" Hans replied.
"Well its almost beautiful. Here look into this puddle." She dragged him outside into the slightly heavy rainfall. He stared into the nearest puddle. A tall barely visible ODST stared back. The armor was a solid black, completely light absorbing. The metal armor didn't slightly reflect light like the old suit did, it completely absorbed it.
"Where's the helmet?" Hans asked.
Carol went back to the tent and came back with a standard ODST helmet, only there were several slight differences. The helmets visor was the same jet black, light absorbing material as the rest of the armor, not the dark, midnight blue that was common. The helmet was also lighter and somewhat blockier.
Hans leaned over and hugged Carol then, said: "Thanks for helping me, Carol. And by the way…I think I like you. Just thought you might want to know."
Chapter Nine
Heresy
Goto'na grabbed the brute and slammed it into the bulkhead.
"What did you say?!" he hissed into the brutes face.
"Ship master…I, I…said nothing!" the brute said clumsily back.
"Damn you! Tell me the truth! Or so help me!"
"—Shipmaster! Unhand my packmember! He said nothing to you, lizard!" roared a gold armor clad brute captain.
"This dog, has offended my ship! The heathen must be killed!" screamed Goto'na back at the Captain.
"Aaaurgh! You are a traitor to the Covenant! It is you who must be slain! You are in danger of becoming a HERETIC, Shipmaster!" the Captain growled at Goto'na.
"How…dare…you accuse me of the most high crime. Treason against a superior officer is punishable by death! Bahh! What am I wasting my time for?" Goto'na spat, then unsheathed his energy sword. The brute that Goto'na still had pinned to the bulkhead squirmed. Goto'na jammed the blade into the neck of the brute. The head rolled off and thudded to the floor. The Captain roared with fury and charged Goto'na. That was the biggest and last mistake the Captain ever made. Goto'na ducked and the brute sailed over Goto'nas soldier and slammed into a wall. Goto'na walked over and drove the blade into the brute. The brute, however didn't die. It pummeled Goto'na and punched him back a bit. Then Goto'na punched the brute in the face and the brutes head caved in. The remaining brute stared at Goto'na.
"Do you have any quarrel, brute?" Goto'na snarled.
"No, Shipmaster! They were fools! I serve my ship, then my captain." Spoke the brute.
"Ah, you are wise! Come take your captains armor. You have earned it well!" Goto'na said.

Goto'na sat in his high backed command chair. He moved the ship forward. The ship strained as it struggled to enter the planet's atmosphere. The few ships left in the Fleet of the Victorious Mind, were engaged with about three times more Human ships. Goto'na had ignored the Fleetmasters hails and continued on to the planet's surface. When The Feeding Hand passed through the storm, Goto'na was shocked to see three Scarabs exploding. Goto'na had maneuvered his ship up to the cover of the storm and that was where he would wait.
A deep ancient voice sounded from behind Goto'na.
"Goto'na, you are a heretic. You have murdered your own soldiers for no reason and disobeyed direct orders."
Goto'na turned and was suddenly fearful. The Vice Minister of Justice sat in a gold ornamented hover chair. Two elite Honor Guards stood with dual energy swords drawn. The vice minister cradled a plasma pistol.
"Vice Minister…I do not deny those charges. I am guilty of insubordination, and murder. However I take offense to the accusation that I am a Heretic, High One."
"Nevertheless you are to be sentenced to death. "The Vice Minister replied.
"You will not be allowed on the Great Journey, unless you prove to me that you can change the tide of battle. This is not an Arbitrary position. Rather a redeemer. Destroy the Human soldiers who call themselves ODSTs. They refer to themselves as the ELITE of their armies. Crush their elite military units and morale will drop like a dismembered head falls from a body. Your ship is now under MY command, and my crew will move in shortly. Leave at once and destroy the HUMANS." He finished grandly.
"Vice Minister, thy will be done!" Goto'na hissed.
Chapter Ten
Famous
"Sir, I am 100% fit for duty! Requesting orders, Sir." Hans said to General Prescott.
"Well done Marine! I am still shocked at what you did, though…damn remarkable!" the general said.
"Thank you for the praise, sir but I was wondering what everyone is so proud of?" Hans asked.
"Wait…you haven't seen the photos? Oh my—Grizzly? Grizzly, show Sergeant Stiffer the photos." The general spoke to a Holopad sitting in the corner. An A.I that appeared to be a Grizzly bear flickered to life on the pad.
"Sir, the photographs that you requested." The A.I spoke, and then flickered off. An image appeared of the Scarab that Hans and his men were assigned to take. The image changed to a similar image of a black and brown ODST climbing the leg. The next image was of Hans jumping all alone onto the Scarab and killing the crew. The last photo was Hans jumping off of the Scarab as it detonated.
"Do you realize that was an incredible feat of bravery and courage. The only documented time of a human boarding a Scarab and living is the Spartan-IIs. This is a great opportunity for a morale boost. I won't have you being paraded around but we need you in the troubled spots of the line. You're a Hero. Humanity always needs a Hero.

Hans kicked the Elite in the head, shattering its skull. He fired his shotgun into the nearest Brute and it also collapsed. The marines behind Hans sprayed the other brute with gunfire from their MA5Bs. The brutes armor hissed and spewed steam and smoke then fell off in chunks. Hans charged forwards and pumped a round into the brute's chest. The marines cheered as the brute shuddered to the floor. The last brute of the small force that had attacked the Marines forward scouting position had been clad in light-bending invisibility armor. Thirty marines occupied the position and none had been killed when Hans was around.
"Hey, why stop when we have the upper hand? Let's take their forward position!" asked Hans.
"Sir, yes sir!" the marines hollered back.
"Then lets go! What are you waiting for!?" Hans hollered back.
The large group of regular marines charged after Hans as he bolted up the next hill. At the top of the hill, Hans waited for the slower regular Marines to catch up. Once the last man had reached the top, Hans charged back down the opposite side. Just then six purple lines appeared from nowhere and struck the five marines next to Hans. The beam-rifle fire punched through their armor, killing the five instantly. However the last shot had hit Hans in the sternum. The shot didn't even go through his chest armor, but did cause a large amount of pain. Hans sputtered and gasped. The marines next to Hans helped him stand. Then Hans passed out.
Just walk it off…Hans thought to himself. Hans stood and picked up his shotgun. Rain was pouring down…Hans estimated 44 inches of rain in two days of fighting. Mud wasn't even mud anymore, it was more water with a little bit of dirt floating on top. Hans looked around and saw twenty five marines around him. They were huddling under a ridge on which Hans noted that six snipers hid.
"Private Luger?" Hans asked.
"Yeah, Sarge?" the skinny, slightly tan, German marine replied.
"Give me your sniper rifle…I'm gonna take out those freaks, up on the ridge." Hans said coldly.
The private handed Hans his long barreled sniper rifle and then sat back down. Hans powered on the scope and checked it to make sure it still worked. Once satisfied, Hans laid down face up, in the water that was only a foot or so deep. Hans pushed himself until he was almost to the hill. Once he was at the base of the hill that they had charged previously down, Hans slowly pushed his head up until he could barely see out of the water. He zoomed in on his HUD until he could see five Jackal snipers and one red elite sniper. Hans eased the end of the sniper rifle out of the water and sighted on the furthest away Jackal. Hans gently squeezed the trigger and a soft puff came from the barrel. The discarding sabot round punched through the Jackals face and exited into the mud behind it. Hans shot the other four until there were only two left, and he had to reload. Quickly resighting, Hans shot the last Jackal. The elite stared at Hans and snarled. Hans fired and the elite ducked. It hissed and then turned and fled.
"Sarge! Holy—"a marine exclaimed.
"That was crazy! What do we do now, Sarge?" another said.
"Secure your position! I will return to help in a day or two…goodbye." Said Hans as he marched up the opposite hill and returned to the rear.
Chapter eleven
Spartan
Hans sat down in the mud. He stared at a small puddle, noticing that the water trembled when anyone walked near him.
"Hey handsome!" Carol spoke cheerfully. She walked through the thick black mud and sat down next to Hans.
"Carol! I'm I am so glad to see you. I need to talk to someone…do you have time to listen?" Hans asked Carol.
"Of course I do, I cant even find an Aid Station so I'll just rest for a minute or two, right here." She replied.
"Well…I seem to be losing my sensitivity…Violence is becoming second nature to me…I'm becoming desensitized by it. This war is putting a lot of stress on me…I worry that I will get killed and that something might happen to you…but, I try to just sit and cry it out, but it doesn't always work…I was leading some Marines in a charge and then a sniper got five of them! I killed the snipers but…the…it's to stressful…I mean its not like we can quit this war, just sign a peace treaty and be on our merry way, these aliens want us all dead. I don't know if Earth still exists. What happens when we win, or when do we run out of reinforcements? I don't think I will break, but…" that was all Hans managed to get out before a sudden commotion distracted Hans and Carol. A pelican had recently landed, and on board was the biggest and scariest human Hans had ever seen. At 7'4" the Spartan was huge. In each hand the super soldier clutched an Assault rifle. Blocky green and black armor encased the Spartan from head to foot. It lumbered forwards and then spoke.
"Sadly, the war is still here. However elsewhere in the galaxy the war has been over for months. You all are victims of a lack of communications. I have come to end this conflict once and for all. The Covenant Prophets are long since dead, executed by the Arbiter, an elite. The Masterchief is MIA…My name is Paul; I am one of the last Spartan-IIs left. Now, where is the CO for your section?"
A small technician said something to the Spartan and then it walked off towards the COs HQ. Hans was big. He was one of the largest combatants in the area. The ODST armor that Hans wore only made him seem larger. Hans was capable of benching 400lbs, and could run six miles in an hour. Hans could wrestle with a cougar or tiger and the fight would be even. At 6'9" Hans had been the closest thing to a Spartan, until one actually showed up.
Chapter Twelve
How does 90mm of tungsten strike ya?
Hans started to climb the cliff. Carol was a few meters above him, quickly finding footholds in the wet rock. Forty meters above Carol was a cave, which the XO of the 231st had wanted for a machine gun nest. Two more ODSTs behind Hans carried the machine gun. One carried the mount and ammunition box while the other carried the actual machine gun.
"There…the thing is way to heavy…We'll tell the XO that all is good. Good luck." The other ODST said right before he jumped off of the cliff. Hans looked around the small cave. The machine gun was set up at the mouth of the cave, the field of fire allowed Hans to aim it from the far western edge of the line to the middle of the line where the artillery was still pounding away. The height of the cave was such that the lower part of the rainclouds was halfway into the cave. Hans leaned back to the edge of the cave and removed his helmet and tried to fall asleep. Carol sat down next to him and removed her own helmet and untied her bronze-scarlet-honey colored hair. She rested her head on Hans' armored shoulder and dozed off to sleep. Hans, after smelling her sweet smelling hair, fell asleep.
An explosion lit the cave. Hans jerked awake. It was dark outside. Carol was still asleep, softly breathing. A piece of shrapnel whistled into the cave striking the end of the cave. The bright piece of metal sputtered and then went out. Hans looked back at the line. Infantry were rushing forwards, guns blazing. Hans switched his HUD to infrared. Hundreds of blue grunt shaped figures crawled forwards overwhelming the front line. Red marines fired back and tossed grenades into the advancing swarm.
"Corpsman…wake up! Get the gun loaded!" Hans said in an urgent voice. He prodded Carol with his battle rifle. She jolted awake then undid the cover on the box of ammunition. She pulled a small barrel from the crate and clipped it to the side of the machine gun. Hans pulled the arming lever and aimed at the eastern most point that he could. He shut off his infrared vision and mashed the trigger down. The heavy machine gun spat out fire and bullets like a small dragon. The rounds screamed down and smashed into advancing grunts. Some toppled and stopped moving, while others were hit with tracers. The tracers ignited the grunts methane backpacks, and they detonated in a ball of flame.
Hans spotted a blue armor clad elite, and set his crosshairs on the chest of the alien. He squeezed the trigger and a burst of the machine guns bullets turned the elite into a purple mist. One of the Scorpion squads was refueling, but had still enough fuel to operate their turrets and guns. Four Scorpions fired 90mm tungsten rounds into the wave of grunts. The assault was stopped cold.
"Carol? Stay here and provide covering fire. I might need it…" Said Hans as he jumped from the edge of the cliff. Six large unfamiliar shapes had appeared. They stuck in pairs and had large slabs of some material they used as shields. Hans sprinted forwards and was greeted by the looming shape of a Covenant Hunter. The worm colony swung its shield forwards almost hitting him. Hans ducked and fired his battle rifle into the helmet of the monstrosity. The bullets had no ill effect. The hunter growled and brought its shield around again. The swipe missed again. Hans backpedaled and then jockeyed left, to the side of the Hunter. The huge plasma weapon on its arm was a throbbing green. Hans brought his battle rifle's butt down the glass portion of the weapon. The thing shattered.
The Hunter collapsed with a grunt. Then a sudden roar echoed from behind Hans. A second hunter rushed forwards. The beast caught Hans by complete surprise. The shield of the Hunter slashed forwards and Hans felt his arm fall off. Hans jumped to the left. The monster had its back to Hans now, and Hans got up, rushed forwards and punched the monster in the back of its neck. He ripped out writhing little orange worms. The spikes on the back of the Hunter flexed. The topmost spike caught Hans in the helmet. Then he passed out.
Chapter 13
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth and an arm for an arm
Hans kicked, screamed, shuddered, and then went limp. The surgeon moved the blade of his scalpel with blinding speed. He then turned to an orderly and asked for a pair of tweezers. He applied a sticky solvent of glue to the end of the tweezers, and then coated the nerve endings in Hans' arm. Then a man stepped up, and in his arms, he cradled a black box.
Hans's new arm was powerful. The matte black metal arm was almost a perfect replica of his natural arm. It was completely indestructible, bulletproof, vacuum proof, you name it. Hans was unconscious for a day. Then when he woke up, he bolted upright and gasped. A nurse handed him a cup made of transpari-steel, filled with water. Hans drank the water, then crushed the cup like it was a piece of tissue. Hans looked at his arm. He was startled, at the metal.
A man in a white naval uniform stepped into the room. He grinned then spoke.
"Are you sure your not a Spartan? 'Cause I seen some of the wacky and crazy stuff you can do and I am impressed…Oh, sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Captain Finnegan. I am from ONI Section Two. The propaganda division. We released the info on the Spartan-IIs. So, I came here to tell you that the War is completely over. You were out for a day, and that's all we needed. We crushed the Brute forces. Not a single brute lives. The Elites have seceded from the Covenant. The prophets lay dead at our feet. You can go home…" the captain said.

Epilogue
Hans stepped through their front door. The place was empty. Only a couch and the wall/tv occupied the sparse room. Hans went to the back room. Their room.
The bed was hard. The blankets were cold. The room was dark and Hans had no intention of lighting it. Not since she died…
Hans looked in the mirror. His clean shaven face, and sliver hair stared back at him. His eyes had lost all spark. Hans went back to his room and opened the closet. In there stood a tall suit of ODST armor. The sleeve on one side was shorter than the other. A battle rifle lay at the suits feet…never to be worn again. Carol had died at the UNSC Stiffer Memorial Hospital. The bit of shrapnel that had been embedded in her chest had been radioactive, a shot from a Covenant Carbine.
Hans walked down the street and came to the UNSC Battle of Isthmus Museum. Every planet that had survived the Human-Covenant War had been given their own museum. Some planets that had been destroyed or glassed had museums on the next closest planet. Hans walked through the door to the Museum and went straight to the largest display. A huge, 90 square meter box held a diorama. The diorama depicted the battle.
Three monstrous scarabs towered over the battle field. Hans was pictured on one of the Scarabs. At a distant hill, there was a Corpsman being hit by a carbine round.
At a separate display there was a screen that replayed the video of Hans fighting the Hunters in hand-to-hand combat. A smaller diorama showed a ODST smashing a Hunters weapon. Hans walked around some more.
Here and there were plasma rifles, pistols, brute shots, gravity hammers, energy swords and SMGs, battle rifles, MA5Bs, SRS 99 sniper rifles and various other examples of weaponry. A skeleton of a brute chieftain fully adorned with armor, and weapons stood in the back. A skeleton of every member of the Covenant was present.
Humanity had survived the fight. Hans had survived the fight. But not all of Hans had survived the fight. His arm and spirit had been destroyed and glassed along with countless billions of people and hundreds of worlds.

The End

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