Snippet #2215137

Major Braxx

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The Major's hand grasped onto one of the shoulder plates of the armored Flamers, guiding him into the trench. He didn't much bat an eye at Carter, merely stating that "Your orders are to sit tight and wait for further orders. Unless the shit hits the turbine again your part here is done". He took one final gaze over that blood stained field, surprised by how much snow was still there. The flames were dying down, with their little puddles of napalm drying and nothing else to burn but bare ground. The Grunts were trying to regroup, the Jackals were returning fire to the snipers, and no one was paying attention to the battle-hungry marines in the trench. This was a bad move, but if it was going to happen then these were the best circumstances. He could hear his troopers chomping at the bit, they wanted the charge. They wanted Revenge. They would not be denied.

"You know what they say about running away from Bears don't you?" Braxx heard from behind him, a small grin forming already. He turned to Dalton, to hear the man out. "You don't have to outrun the bear itself, just your friends. For their sake, I hope they know that, or this is going to wind up more messy than it should be. But then again, I've always wanted to see a Bear tear apart a grunt. You think you can grant that wish for me, Sir?" The Major didn't skip a beat, pulling out his knife with a wide smile on his face. "Oh, I suppose so, provided I still remember how. Then again, it's just like riding a bike, ain't it?" Braxx couldn't help it, that made his day. Despite all of bad that occurred in just an hour, he got something back he missed most dearly. He felt like a soldier again.

All it took was a hand motion, one signal, and they stormed the field. War cries, shouts, battle-roars. They all sounded as gunfire opened in controlled bursts and boots stomped over mud and purple blood. The remaining Covenant forces, for once, were outmatched. Marines practically lunged at the Grunts, as both sides made a push for ground. With no more armored support, and the Brutes leaving them for dead, there was little the little aliens could do. Still, they made their stands, sending green darts and pink shards flying back at the lead spewing troopers. Marines used the shattered bodies of those Covy vehicles that only moments ago were trying to kill them. Many of the remains were still smoldering or even still burning with plasma-fire. What was once a large, all-out war has since downgraded into a series of little skirmishes spread across the open field. Surprisingly, no fatality markers winked on in the entire scene.

Valerie Mallard

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She could feel it, a hate burning in the pit of her stomach. She hated the Covenant for what they did, for what they do. She hated them for each of the men and women being dragged to the infirmary, and for each drop of human blood on the ground. She hated them for being on this damn planet, for being in this God forsaken war. A hate shared by every marine she stood shoulder to shoulder with. When the signal to charge was given, Valerie hesitated. She forced herself to look back, to look at those still, pale faces. To look at those dead faces. Each one, a young marine, green as grass. None of them deserved this. No one deserved to die here. It wasn't like she needed to remind herself of why she fought, she always would know why. But those faces..... this would be for them. Popping the new mag into her rifle, she quickly joined the others in the charge and the battle cries. No cold anymore, the fire in their hearts made sure of that.

Eddy Slater

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There were no need for the big guns anymore, but the call for snipers was still high. Slate had just slapped a fresh clip into his rifle, and had his sights set on making the Brutes regret joining the fight. One in particular that he had his eye on, one missing a helmet. Someone had knocked it off earlier, but Ed was occupied with the deployment of the railgun. Now, it was time to make amends. Those emotionless aviators peered through the digital scope, sweeping for his mark. "Ah, there you are......." Riding at the wheel of a fleeing Prowler, his marked tango made his retreat. "And who said you got to leave?" Slater gently eased on the trigger, loosing a round. The projectile ricocheted off of the controls of the alien vehicle, trick-shotting into it's driver's face and causing a stream of strangely human-looking blood to arced out the back of the big ape's head. It flopped off the back of the moving vehicle, leaving it to crash into a snow drift. Deciding the gunner had no more right to live than the driver, Ed let fly two more bullets, each finding a home in the beast's throat.

Major Braxx

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Shotguns have always had a psychological effect on people, this has been proven throughout the years, and judging by the cowering of many a Grunt, it's not human specific. They huddled together, only replying when their doom approached them. Braxx singled one out, dropping both his friends before charging in for the coup de grâce. The Grunt spun around, only to receive Baxx's metal shin caste to the face. The seven foot giant stood over the fallen creature, knife at the ready, as he delivered slash after slash in mad succession. Braxx stood, blue goop bathing his knife and staining his armor, as he raised the blade above his head and looked towards his captain. "Hey Dalton! First Knife Kill!" At this point, nothing could wipe the smile off his face. Well, till he turned around to claws in his face, that is. A Jackal that had moved in for a flank saw an opportunity at the human's apparent leader, and it's bloodthirsty nature demanded that it take it. The screeching bird raptor-jumped onto the Major, talons sinking into the nicks of his combat armor.

Eddy Slater

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The final round was saved, as Ed saw the Jackal on the Major. He didn't shoot, no clear shot yet, but it was more than that. Slater needed to know, could the Major still fight? Had the dog grown lazy? Or has age made it simply meaner? Braxx had a reputation for being a badass, but those days were long in the past and Slater didn't follow on heresay alone. He had to see it. His finger hovered over the trigger, eager to see if indeed this old war vet had any right to battle on the lines with his troops.

Major Braxx

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The hollowing monster squawked and clawed with hateful intent, wrestling with it's opponent for the killing blow. Finally Braxx got his hand on it's throat and tossed it off of him. The Jackal sprung to it's feet in an instant, engaging in a stare-down with the Major. It's inhumanly pale, slit eyes locking onto his dark brown ones. Finally, the move was made, the Jackal leaped first...... right into the heel of Braxx's steel-coated foot. The strong, straight kick clanged against the creatures skull, stopping it dead, leaving it dazed and sprawled across the ground. You could almost literally see the stars swirling around it's head, right up until Braxx moved in to slit it's throat. "I hate those God damn things" he grumbled, scraping the blade off on his armor.

This fight was finally nearing it's end, as the last of the petty resistance was fleeing in absolute terror from the hardened resolve of the human warriors, being chased by lead the whole way. All around him, marines shouting in victory. Charred and burnt carcasses littered the ground, along with mangled alien cadavers and shredded bodies. In some cases, it was litle more than just bits of various organic matter. The dirt had been turned to mud by the rivers of alien blood. Purple and blue blood covered their boots, sticking to the ground and muck. To some, this was a horror scene, but to the proud men and women who fought here today, this was absolutely beautiful. In the distance, however, the sound of rolling thunder gave pause to the cheers of the soldiers. Far on the horizon, the monolithic cannon of the Arm of Orion was moving. A deafening boom accompanied a flash of light as the clouds parted to show the path of it's shot. Something had invoked it's wrath, and that something was likely now dead. Then the call came. Amanda commed the major, informing him of dire news.

"Sir! I have news that ATLAS has picked up on an extremely fast moving Covenant ship headed to your position."

"Confirmed kill?"

"Affirmative. Target was downed less than one hundred klicks away from Echo."

"How the hell did it get that close?"

"Precision slip-space reentry accompanied by stealth capabilities seams to be the favorite theory."

"Theory?!"

"Yeah, I know you'd get hung up on that word. I tried suggesting that.... Oh crap! Multiple drop pods incoming onto your location, I count twenty! They're too small to target with the AA's, they're going to land!"

Braxx gazed up into the stormy skies, but could see the faint glow of Covenant drop parts as they plummeted to the ground. Directly above them. Braxx made a mistake. The Covy weren't stalling, they were baiting, and he just sent his men in like a total idiot. "What the fuck is going on...... Brutes are not that God damn smart!" There was no time to move, as the pods impacted against the ground around him and his men. The pods slowly slid open, as the Hunters roared at the sight of human soldiers. The Earth shaking thuds of their armored forms leaping from the pods to the ground was a huge strike to moral, let alone their mere presence.

".......Oh God damn it."