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-Author's Note:
I think it is about time that the Army was brought into Halo, being that they've played such an important role in our History, it would be wrong to give them no credit, plus the 2nd Rangers and Delta Force are freaking awesome so yeah, Enjoy.
-End Note
The year is 2553; three weeks after the SPARTAN IIs went groundside. Multiple human controlled bases of operation have been captured by Covenant forces. The Orbital MAC guns have been decimated, along with the Human ships in orbit. Two of the three human ships which went groundside have bugged out, and the only surviving cruiser has been stationed at the recently christened Alpha Base, which is located on a large island sheltering the Construct's map room. As for the ten Spartan super soldiers…they seldom were working together. Each one of them was assigned their own platoon of a comprised group of Marine regulars, Delta Force Sergeants and ODSTs. This arrangement of troop deployment had worked successfully until the Covenant under the leadership of a Ship Master 'Ultazee captured the Control Room. Of the six Human bases, only three remained, but several outposts remained scattered throughout the Ring. The canyon concealed Theta Base had proved easily defendable, with a small city blossoming inside, and titanium-A gates at the only entrance. Theta Base had also proved a valuable airfield and troop deployment center. Bristling with 50mm auto cannons and G39 anti air guns, with was probably the most valuable position under the Marines' ownership. Though help came through at last, soon the Marine Corps were joined not only by the Spartans and Delta Force but the legendary 2nd Rangers, whose reputations stretched back more than five centuries. But resistance was becoming futile, while the Earth campaign was favoring the UNSC, the Halo Defensive was failing…the skies had become thick with the violet hulls of the Covenant's cruisers, and the fields carpeted with the rainbow of colors of Covenant armor marching to the Human strongholds. But the leadership of General Harper held strong, and the Covenant armada was held at bay…for now. Another Human Covenant skirmish was well under way at the very temple where Master Chief John 117 was dispatched the Prophet of Regret. The Temple was Human held, one of the outposts, but not an organized base of operations. And here is where the war will be continued.
"Hernandez! If you don't get your act together now I can assure you that you will be lying right next to him! He's gone, suck it up, you can't control who lives or dies son, that's the price a Corporal pays! Now reload that rifle and watch that door! If any one of those alien freak shows walks through this entry way, you give him two in the chest and one in the head, hoo'ah? Captain Steele ordered to the Ranger who had just watched his friend take a flurry of ice purple needles just before the door slid shut.
"I-I'm s-still in the fight s-Sir, I can do this." The Corporal said trembling. "Hoo-ah." The man said and carefully shoved the fresh magazine into the rifle's receiver.
These men were Army, unlike the Marines that they had fought along side for so long. Captain Steele was a six foot tall battle hardened veteran of the Army, his cold ambition when on the field was known by all the Rangers in his command, his Texas accent came straight from Earth itself and his determination the same. Sergeant Eversmann and Sergeant Booker were his NCOs while four Deltas were under the command of Master Sergeant Steven Sanderson. Delta Force was known for their uncanny skill and step up weaponry from the standard MA5Bs and BR55s, bearing M4A1s and MA7Rs.
"Sarg'nt Booker! We got hostiles in the plaza! Sanderson called, rifle chattering. Booker turned firing his pistol form his elevated position. The Grunt Demolitions squad which had blown their way into the square, was cut down in a matter of seconds, but the Elites and Jackals behind them proved a difficult kill. But again and again the wakes of offensive were cut down by the skill of the Human Military.
"Hang in there, Rangers! Pelicans are en route!" Steele called over the PLATOONCOM. The dropships were usually reserved for the Marines and Naval personnel, while the Army favored the T29 Blackhawk, having very little relation to its centuries old predecessor, used by the now non existent United States Military, even though the US had the largest contribution to the UNSC's Military Branch. The Pelicans streamed to the landing platform, three of them, picking up their maximum occupancy and bugged out. That left Steele, Eversmann, nineteen Rangers and Sanderson and his men. It would be forty five minutes before the Pelicans came back. Slurs about the Navy Pilots traveled quickly around the Temple of frustrated soldiers while they repelled yet another Covenant assault, even though every last one of the Rangers trusted the pilots with their lives and held them in highest regard.
"Eversmann! Where's Grimes?" Booker called over his shoulder while firing another volley from his newly acquired MA5B.
Eversmann ducked behind the fallen bridge piece that sheltered his men's position. He looked over his Rangers, craning his neck out to see down the line of them. Grimes was not there. He turned to look the platoon's second position, neither was he there. "Twobles! Where's Grimes?" Eversmann yelled over the bursts of assault fire around him to the one of the platoon's support gunners. Twobles shock his head and shrugged, turning back to his M243 SAW gun with roared with a barrage of high velocity rounds exiting the massive weapon's chamber. Grimes popped up from the line in front of the platoon and hurtled over the barrier landing in a heap beside Eversmann, out of breath an heaving for air. Grimes was a good guy, not to be mistaken, but he had little experience on the field, but he had it together when the team needed him.
"Grimes! Report to Sergeant Booker now, and go quick, there's a lot of them!" Eversmann screamed, even though Grimes was well within earshot, the battle was getting loud.
"Hoo-ah!" Grimes replied and gathered his fallen rifle. Eversmann watched him for a moment, then turned back and fired several single shots.
"Grenades!" Sanderson ordered to the soldiers close by. Each one of them lowered their rifles, primed their fragmentation explosives, cocked back their arms and hurled the tennis ball sized grenades. The wave of grenades bounced into the entrance of the temple, which was blanketed with the Covenant militants. Seven loud whops resonated through the Temple. Covenant soldiers were tossed in each direction like rag dolls, while the survivors were cut down by well placed sheets of ammunition laid out by the support gunners.
"Captain Steele, Sir! Dropships are here, the Marines up there are ready for us, we should move!" Grimes called after running an errand for Booker.
"Affirmative! Rangers, we're buggin' out, move it!" Steele bellowed. Sanderson pulled several soldiers by the collar and tossed them towards the door, he himself covering them from behind, M4 blazing. Eversmann tapped each of his men on the should as they ran past him, counting quickly. Everyone. He could see Sanderson and the other Deltas one story up, firing at the Covenant behind him. Everything seemed to be going slower, like trying to run through the water that the ocean pulled against you, while all you cared about was getting to the sand, finding each step harder to bring your foot out of the current. Plasma whined by his head, plasma grenades detonated behind him. He felt white hot pain lance through his back and out his chest…so this was his fate, dying after protecting the men he commanded, it was an excellent heroic death, though Eversmann had never known himself to be a hero. Hundreds of thoughts identical to these flew through his mind, while he fell to his knees, opened his mouth and let the crimson blood pour out, his helmet slid back, and he slumped forward to the cold metal floor, unable to reach the sand he had ran for. He heard Sanderson cry to him, urging him to get up, but it was a watery voice, as if from miles away, blackness gathered at the corners of his open eyes, and soon prevailed over the light. Sanderson cast a mournful look to the fallen soldier, turned, and ran back for him. Plasma melted everything around him, his Deltas still on the platform above, firing madly. Sanderson hoisted the soldiers body over his shoulder and trudged up the steep ramp, his men closing around him, firing still. The doorway grew ever nearer and finally stepped outside. Only one Pelican remained, a Sergeant Adrian Jones of the Marine Corps awaiting them with a small fire team of Marines. Sanderson jogged to the craft, allowed the Marines to cut down the resistance behind them, and slid into his seat with his men and the Marines. The Pelican lifted off and carried the survivors back to the safety of Human held territories.
-Author's Note:
I know this chapter is a great deal shorter than the previous, but I needed to introduce more of the backgrounds before I have the time to do more brainstorming to come up with another storyline, so wait around, and I'll be posting again soon
-End Note
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