Shane "Kid" Kent's Story

His scar stretched uncomfortably as he focused down the sights of his assault rifle with his good eye. He still wasn't quite used to being a "lefty", but it was better than the alternative. Shane slapped the trigger right after lining up the shot. A burst of three rounds broke out over the firing range. He didn't need to move to know that he was off target, even if he'd hit the target itself. Hits were not kill shots... and he was a marine, damn it! He wasn't paid to miss or wound. He was paid to kill so that others could live.

It was the standard exercise he went through since his injury. His good eye gets ruined, as did his boyish good looks. As soon as he recovered, he had to shave for the first time. Was it three or four years ago now? Now he spent every day practicing his off hand because he couldn't aim properly anymore. And if he couldn't aim, he couldn't do his job.

Realigning his shot, Shane pulled the trigger again, firing another burst. This time he did walk down to view the target. the first shot was closer to a kill zone and the third shot was in the head, due to recoil. The second barely missed the neck. "Fucking horrible." Shane muttered, squinting with his bad eye to sharpen his view of the target. "If we get attacked, I won't last ten minutes... especially if I aim like this and can't control the kick."

He had been on duty when he heard that the weather had apparently cut off communication with ATLAS. If he were the Covenant, now would be the best possible time to attack. A blizzard, despite its dangers, was the perfect cover for an assault.
--------------------------------------------
(Meanwhile... in the barracks)
Jack yawned as he flicked open his lighter, igniting the cigarette that was clamped between his lips as he continued to lie in bed staring at the ceiling above him. The nicotine fed his addiction and he breathed in deeply, taking a long drag from the burning tobacco. It was too cold here at Echo... cold enough that Jack wanted to grab his flamethrower and do what the damn brass wouldn't: fucking stay warm. The cold made him move slower. Fire... he couldn't get enough of. The more fire there was, the more he wanted to make.

Flicking his ashes off to the side, Jack blew a large cloud of smoke out and stared at it. Today he was off duty like normal. There wasn't much need for a Hellbringer like him unless the base was attacked. In which case he was expected to be ready. A few minutes more and Jack was pulling out his second cigarette was the day, lighting it before crushing the butt of the first between his fingers.

Jack continued staring at the ceiling and couldn't shake the feeling that the reason for his deployment to this fucking ice cube would make itself clear very soon.

Jean sat in the cockpit of her hornet, she was sitting there watching as the other men and women ran about doing their business. "I hate being grounded. Fucking weather." She sighed as she jumped out of the cockpit and started to walk around, she pulled her zipped up her jacket and folded her arms, trying to keep the cold from nipping at her. With every foot step she could hear the horrible crunch of footsteps and in the distance, she could hear the gunshots coming from the Range and decided to head in that general direction, saluting most of the people that pasted her, not really caring whether she was meant to or not. She eventually made it to the firing range, she looked around for anyone she recognized and she noticed 'Kid' and called over. "Hey, it's 'Kid'!" She smiled and walked over, taking a position next to him. She drew her pistol and took aim, firing and managing to hit the arm, chest and leg. She kept this up, thinking there was nothing else for her to do seeing as she was meant to be elsewhere but the damned weather had left her grounded.

"You know that's going to kill you, right? If the cold doesn't do it first of course," one of the base medics directed at him. Jack just grunted and blew out another cloud of smoke. Against the Covenant and most of enemies of the UNSC, he had a smaller life expectancy than the cigarettes gave him anyway. Besides... that was what everyone told him. That smoking would kill him.

Bullshit. He had his death planned from the moment he become a Hellbringer.

Sitting up, Jack set his feet on the floor and took a final drag from his cigarette, lighting a new one as he did. His pack was down to three more. Which meant he needed to pick up a new pack first thing.

Boots on, his dogs in clear view on his chest, Jack walked down towards the yard.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the yard
Kid glanced over at "Hornet" and nodded in greeting. Putting some distance between him and the target, Shane set down his assault rifle and took a deep breath. Instantly, he drew his sidearm and, holding it as if he were still right eye dominant, fired a series of rounds until the gun clicked empty. He waited for a break in Jean's shots before walking back towards the target.

While not the best record for him, the shots were each clustered around the center of the chest.

It always happened like that. It was just muscle memory if he took no time to aim and just did as he was trained. But because his face had been horribly cut by an energy sword, which had also hit his eye and made it entirely impossible for the doctors to restore full sight to, he couldn't rely on old habits any more.

Even if they'd been so deeply trained into him that they were second nature.

"Jean, there's something I've been wondering about for a while now: in weather like this, what do you do if we get attacked?" Shane asked as he caught sight of the Hellbringer Jack Carter walking across the Yard, likely looking for a carton of cigarettes.

"I don't really expect him to Alex," she said with a warm smile, a stark contrast compared to the frozen environment around them. "I've seen his type before. Stubborn old dogs of war. You know what they say about old dogs, right?" She said, her tone implying that she found it a rather endearing quality. "Men like him are the hard quiet type. The UNSC are full of men like him, just ready to shoot at the first alien bastard who looks at them cross. To be fair, smoking is probably the least of his worries," she continued, her smile dropping into something of a tight lipped frown.

"Men like him don't normally die in a hospital bed nor even quietly in their sleep. It'd take a plasma bolt to the heart to stop him-- If only one. I wouldn't be surprised to see him shrug off a number of them, and take that many more of the bastards out," She said with a flicker of a smile. Talking about the man like that reminded her of her father. A stern faced man marching off to fight the bastards who threatened their way of life, who threatened his wife, his sons, and his daughter. Hell, she even saw a bit of her brothers in the man.

"But I digress, I doubt Corporal Carter would like the idea of me gossiping about him like that," she added, deftly changing the subject. "How about you Alex? Got a case of the sniffles that I can tell you to suck up?" she said with a laugh. Despite the utter amount of grim faced soldiers and hardened marines, Valerie still had a girlish air about her. Though she has been known to drag wounded soldiers from the frontline under heavy fire and then patch up their wounds mid-combat, she was still perhaps the softest soul in the entire base. An endearing quality, perhaps, but a good one to be found in a Hospital Corpsman.

A medic just as hardened as some of these soldiers and just as cold as the ground beneath her feet might not provide the care that she would. He'd end up saying that it was a lost cause and just let the soldier die. Not Valerie. She would try to the fullest extent of her expertise to save every soul she possible could. Sure, she failed many times before, but each failure only drove her to try and save the next one. Being the medic, she was perhaps more acquainted with death than most soldiers should be. An attitude like hers was rare, but it let her keep her air of optimism and care. Key things to look for in a medic.

A symphony of handgun shots drew her head in that direction. The only one she thought she knew over there was First Sergeant Kent. She chewed on her lip as if internally debating something, then shrugged, having found an answer. "Doing anything? Care for a walk? Thought I'd visit Kid and see how that eye's doing," She asked. The eye was probably long-since healed and her checking on him was probably uncalled for... But there was really nothing else to do, so why not right? With her question asked she turned and began to walk towards where the shots rang out.

"What about you? I mean the blizzard will obscure your view from the trenches and nests." Jean asks, causing Shane to smile slightly.

"I'm a marine. I'll handle well enough." He said in an almost boyish manner. "The UNSC once offered me early retirement for my eye. After all... I can't see quite as well as I used to. I turned them down and said I was fine. It's that more than the weather that will hinder me. But I don't regret it at all." He continued smiling as he reloaded his sidearm calmly without even glancing at it. "After a while it all becomes natural. Probably like flying is to you. Only I don't have to worry as much about the weather."

Shane glanced at the target and shook his head. "Besides... if I retire at my age, what do I do with my life? I enlisted as early as I could, after all." He glanced over when he heard the medic Valerie Mallard walking closer. "Well, well... hey doc. What brings you out to our little piece of frozen hell?" He asked, holstering the pistol and picking up his assault rifle, intending to load a fresh clip.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack shook his head and sighed as he again passed by the group that was gathering at the firing range, the new carton of smokes clutched in his hand. How the fuck was he supposed to spend his free time on this frozen rock when there wasn't any action?

Blowing another cloud of smoke from his mouth, the Hellbringer walked down to the armory where he'd left his armor after it had been cleaned a few days before. If there wasn't anything to do, he might as well polish his flamethrower and armor until it could blind the fucking Covenant.

Alex smiled at the invitation. "It would be my honer." he said and began to follow Val "I was also hopping to see how kid was doing, being a fellow marksman I feel for him, cant imagine what I would do if I lost my good eye, he is stronger then me." Alex said felling bad for his ally's disability, but knew it would be rude to show him petty, not that he needed any. In this base it did not seem to matter whether or not you could fight for is seemed like the only skills needed to survive were the skill to stay warm and to not be a dumb ass. Seems like half this base should be dead if that really was the case he thought. "I heard that he was still having trouble aiming though." he added hoping that is was not true. The two of them soon arrived at the range Alex watched as Kid fired a round of magnum shots which were surprising accurate. Maybe those rumors about him still being unable to shoot are fake, seems like it. Alex saw Kid go over and began to speak with Hornet.

"Looks like Kid in the middle of a nice little chat with Hornet "seems like they are going to have a nice chat want to get in the middle of it?" but then saw him look over two them.

"Well, well... hey doc. What brings you out to our little piece of frozen hell?" Kid said

Alex walked over to them "Oh we are on a romantic date obviously, that why we deiced to see how you guys are doing." He said in a joking manor "All joking aside, hows your eye doing? You seem to be quite well" indicating to the target full of holes.

Jean smiled and looked up from the targets. "I never said I was worried about the weather." She listened to his question about retiring. "Well you could go on a space cruise, I hear a lot of retired people go on cruises." She joked and then twirled around when Shane addressed the medic, she was with the other onsite sniper. "Oh hey. I'm Jean, the Hornet Pilot." She said introducing herself to both Valerie and Alexander. She looked at Alexander as he responded to Shane's question and then mentioned the eye. She holster her pistol and looked at the Command Centre and remembered she needed to check if communications with ATLAS had been opened up yet. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go check if we have any form of communication with ATLAS yet." She waved and started walking towards the Command center.

"What Alex said. We're on a date, don't we make quite the pair?" Val chuckled, playing along with Alex's joke. Once the good-natured ribbing was done, she reached into her medical bag and fished for the scanner she had just put away. After a couple of moments fruitlessly searching she finally reeled out her prize. "Just checking on that eye of yours. Would hate for it to go from bad to worse. Personally, I'd suggest an eyepatch. Women love that jazz, you know?" She teased as she powered on the scanner. A couple of beeps later it was up and running.

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Her fingers drummed a practiced, furious pace. Each tap was followed by a beep-- that was easily cut off by the next tap. Before long, she held out the Scanner in Kid's general direction as it scanner him. It only took mere moments for the results to come back. "The eye's fine, all things considering. No infection, no rot, it's all go accept for the seeing bit. But you probably already knew that," She said with a smile as she tucked the scanner away back into her pack. She then looked past Kid and towards the target in which he had been firing at. The clustering was good, and right in center mass too. Smart fellow. Why go for the headshot, when a well placed shot to the chest could be just as fatal.

"Though, I wouldn't say that it slowed you down any," She said nodding towards the target. "A few more practice sessions and I'm willing to be you'd be right back to your normal self," She said with a warm smile.

Braxx paced back and forth, awaiting the arrival of the captain. This wasn't anything important, and he knew it. It was just another day in this big refrigerator. Upon his third or fourth pass, his eye caught on the frame that hung on his wall. There behind the glass were the dog tags of every man that fell in battle under his command, kept in memory of their sacrifice and a permanent reminder to the Major of what he owes to the Covenant. Two of their's for every one of ours. His fingers lightly slid along the cold glass, in remembrance of each good man who gave their life for humanity. As he moved away from the frame, there was a strange buzz in the air. Almost like it was electrified, but more so. It was cold, foreboding even, and left it's sickly presence to stir at the bottom of his gut. It could have been a million things, a omen or warning of what was to come, but the Major wasn't a superstitious man. He simply shook it off as one of the MRE's returning to have it's revenge, which they often did.

"Sir, Captain Conway is here."

"Ah.... yes....."

"Major? Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes. Just some.... bad memories. Send the Captain in."

A smirk forms on the Major's face as Dalton enters his office. Braxx holds up two beers, still having that sly smile. He knew they aren't allowed to drink on duty, but there wasn't ever going to be any action here. Braxx tossed the Captain a beer, which he caught with ease. You throw enough ammo clips back and forth while ducking plasma fire, and catching anything else becomes a cinch.

"I know it's not your brand, but it's all I got. At least I can guarantee it's cold..."

Half an hour passed of the two BSing back and forth, as usual. Old war stories, from back when they were actually in the damn war.

"So now we're pinned behind the carcass of our goddamn tank, right? Monkeys and midgets pouring the light show all over us, all led by this ugly-ass bearded one. Big bastard, huge! And in a nice and shiny suit of armor, with a damn turret, to boot. Three of ours are wounded pretty bad, and we lost our sniper cover. The apes were listening to every word of gibberish that old bastard shouted out, so we figured he must be one of those chieftains. Phillips said something about how they might break ranks if we could off their boss, and a second later they stopped shooting. All- well, most of them. Figured they screwed up and didn't sync their reloads, and before I know it our rookie pulls out a freaking baseball. I asked him what the hell he was thinking, and he told me he could kill the chieftain. With the ball. You can see why I was skeptical, but what the hell? We were pretty screwed, anyway."

Braxx pauses in his story, popping the cap on his next bottle. Taking one swig from the fresh beer, he grins with a light chuckle. Shaking his head, he looks back to Dalton to continue his tale.

"So we give the kid support, and that bearded freak starts monologuing. Just yapping up a storm, you know. 'Weak humans, we smash you' blah blah yadda yadda. Anyway, I'm looking at the kid, wondering why he ain't doing anything. He's just sitting there in his little pitcher pose, rubbing the damn ball and shaking his head. I finally snap and order him to throw it, and..... whew, thunk. Right.... down... the son of a bitch's throat. I. Shit. You. Not. So now he's grabbing at his throat, all his buddies are freaking out cause apparently nobody taught them CPR, and we're laughing our asses off. I almost rolled out of cover, and took a hit to the arm. Sure enough, the remaining nimrods are panicking and we start dropping what we can. About five minutes later, a falcon passed by and mopped up the rest. To this day, I still can't believe the rook pulled that off. I still can't believe it worked..."

The Major paused once more, looking up towards the ceiling and lifting his bottle.

"Here's to you, kid. Where ever you ended up."

Suddenly, a luminescent form manifests in the corner of the room, it's blue female body being constructed in front of them. Amanda's hair waves slightly, as if from some non-existent breeze. She gives a warming smile, nodding at the two respectfully.

"Major. Captain. I'll pretend that isn't alcohol your both drinking. I have the report from ATLAS as to our communication issues. Short range comms are up, but understaffed. All of ONI's personnel at the base are currently busy in the final phases of their project."

"Any word on what the damn thing is, yet?"

"Classified."

"Why'd I ask?"

"Why, indeed. Though there are more... interesting bits of news from them. It seems that all off-planet communications are down as well. This has several of the researches worried, as such a thing is unusual for a storm to disrupt. Perhaps this is- ....Oh. Major, I have Ricks on comms channel. He says it's urgent, shall I patch him through?"

The Major placed the bottle on his desk and straightened up. Even though he believed a beer or two would never alter his judgement, it was still bad for his image to be seen drinking by his men. Shoulder's back, chest out, and arms behind his back, he stood facing the monitor.

"Proceed..."

The screen came to life, giving the image of a marine with a covered face. Fog leaking from the bit of cloth that covered his mouth.

"Major Braxx, Sir. I.... think I know why we've been cut off. Your going to want to see this...."

The camera's point of view shifted as it was moved over the small ridge the marine was hiding behind. What was being shown were several blurred figures trudging through the snow, which became clearer as the camera focused. The image sharpened, and revealed these to be Covenant forces. A small scouting party by the looks of it, mostly jackals and brutes. One of the bird-headed creatures trips, falling beak-first into the white powder.
"Stop wasting time!" bellows the brute at his back, launching the scrawny critter with a powerful kick and sending it flying. Another hairy monster roars at the first. "Keep your voice down, they can hear us."

Braxx looks at the monitor in disbelief. The only question ringing through his head being "how?" It simply isn't possible, but there they are. The Covenant has found Outpost 314.

"My God..." utters the Major, still unable to believe what he's seeing. The camera's view shifts once again back to Ricks.

"Major.... they're heading away from us. I..... I think we've already been scouted, sir. And.... there's more. Give me a sec..."

The camera reverts once again to the marines visor, as he crawls silently through the deep snow. Peering down over a ledge, the screen fills with the terrible visage of a large ground force, being comprised of mainly ghosts and grunts. The course of their slow, waddling march is unmistakable. Their heading for the fort.

"Theirs a lot of light infantry, down their. I think they're gonna test our defenses. I don't see any he- Gagh!"

Ricks cries out, his visor showing the pink spike protruding from his shoulder. Blood corrupts the snow, as he rolls over to behold the face of a very unhappy brute. The soldier can scarcely do anything but choke and gurgle out his protest, as the beast raises it's spiker. The screen cuts out.

"Corporal? Corporal! Damn it!" Braxx yells, a fiery yearning for vengeance already forming as he springs into action.

"Amanda, how far away was this transmission?"

"Less than two klicks out. I'd estimate they'll quicken their pace, seeing as they know we're aware."

"Agreed. Amanda, set the base to high alert and tell ATLAS what's really going on. Captain, get the troops together and prep our defenses. Keep squads hunkered down in the trench till we can offer enough support for their charge. Tell Wolf-Team Alpha and Bravo to hold their fire until the enemy is in their crossfire, giving our men on the ground heavy sniper cover. Have them focus on counter-sniping those damn birds! I don't want to be ducking my god damn head every three seconds. We can't let them think we're at a disadvantage, so we have to put them down hard! It's time to see if ONI built this piece of scrap on a budget or not."

Having given his standing orders, Braxx proceeded to gear himself up with his personal supplies. It felt almost too long since he had to don combat armor, but it was a long missed memory. Locked, cocked, and armed for bear, he proceeded through the yard as the alarm sounded. Men were rushing to battle stations, taking posts in the towers and walls. The unmistakable smell of cheap cigarettes gave a clear location of Corporal Jack Carter, the only person crazy enough to smoke around extremely flammable ammunition.

"Carter! Gear up and have your squad spaced out in the trench. Do not reveal your presence till I give the say so. I don't want to miss the look of 'oh shit' on their face when they see we brought hellbringers, so don't screw it up."

The Major took his position on the forward wall. This was the first time he'd seen combat in months and he wanted nothing more than to be on the ground with his men, but this elevated view gave him the ability to better direct his men's efforts. He lit up another cigar as the blast shields began to retract, opening up the field of fire. The blizzard made it impossible to see out into the distance, but they were out there. The Covenant. Braxx could feel it. He pulled out his PDF and opened communication with the sniper teams. The names and status of both teams were displayed, and he could see the team leaders were taking their positions.

"Alpha, Bravo, report. Do you have eyes on the Covy's position?"

A cold, monotone voice replied back to him "No joy. Alpha wolves got nothing in our scopes, Sir."

"Damn. Waddell, what can you and Bravo see from the West?"

"Carter! Gear up and have your squad spaced out in the trench. Do not reveal your presence till I give the say so. I don't want to miss the look of 'oh shit' on their face when they see we brought hellbringers, so don't screw it up."

Jack smiled and took the cigarette out of his mouth, crushing the glowing tip between his fingers to put it out. "Sir, yes sir." He arrived at the armory just before the first wave of assault troops arrived to gear up. Despite smoking his lungs to death, most people found it strange that Jack could move decently fast over a prolonged period of time. He wouldn't win any medals for his running, but he wasn't some out of breath civilian, gasping for air and cursing their smoking habits.

He walked over to his armor and carefully started suiting up.
---------------------------------
In the Yard
Kid was just about to respond to the Alex's and the medic's comments when the alarm suddenly went off. "Shit..." He muttered. "I guess we're about to find out." Without another word, he ran full speed towards the armory. He was a pistol clip and six assault rifle rounds short. And no matter the size of the Covenant force, going in with less ammunition than normal was just stupid.

Practically the entire base was there and Shane managed to find some spare 7.62x51mm FMJ rounds which he loaded into the clip he'd switched out. Grabbed a couple of clips for his pistol to put him at four spares, he grabbed his Battle rifle and the rest of his gear. Right alongside Jack Carter, who looked more excited than Shane could remember ever seeing him.

"Don't light us on fire, Corporal." Shane said jokingly.

"No promises when me and my boys get out there. Once you see fire, get a hundred meters back and keep shooting." Shane was putting on his helmet and strapping the battle rifle to his back when he looked at Jack, who was putting a half used cigarette in his pack, which went into a pocket before his chest armor was on.

"Jack... good luck out there." Even though he didn't really know much about Jack Carter, Shane knew what could go wrong if struck by a plasma round in the wrong location. It would be a fitting, but horrible way to go.

"Luck? I'll pass. Give it to the Covenant if you want to wish some one luck." Jack put his helmet on and Shane watched him walk away shouting orders to the other Hellbringers he passed by. Geared up Shane took a deep breath and started running to his designated position.
-----------------------------------
Meanwhile...
"Wake up ladies, there's an alarm sounding if you didn't hear! Move your ass, Barnes!" Jack shouted at the Hellbringers under his command As he stopped at a foxhole leading into the trench. "I need your asses in the trench yesterday! Move it, move it, move it!" One by one, the other four members of Jack's squad ran by him, out the doors and towards their positions in the trench. Jack ran after them and took his position. "Alright, listen up! We're the strongest force here today, but even the strongest force can be taken down if even one of it's members makes a fucking mistake. If you do something that jeopardizes the squad, I'll fucking shoot you myself. I don't care if you disobey any orders. But if it's to be fucking stupid and the Covenant doesn't kill you, I will. Now... watch for friendly fire and don't expose your positions until the Covenant is close enough to spit on or the Major gives the order. Understood?"

"Yes sir!"

Sometime earlier, within the confines of the East Den, a wolf keeps his eyes on all the territory he claims as his. On a cot that was physically dragged over to the embrasure, where lay this hunter. Ed Slater, still on post and acting as sentry, and wearing only his thick thermal under-armor and combat slacks. Still as the steel and stone that surrounded him, with the only audible sound being the low hum of the thermal shielding, reacting to the stainless steel 50. caliber barrel protruding through it. A barely visible anomaly circles around the exact point where his rifle's barrel pierced the shields invisible vale. Still peering through his scope, and of course through his mirrored glasses, Slate watched ever intently for movement out in the frozen wastes, lightly scratching at the coarse stubble that spread across his face. Finally, something broke the silence.

An alert. There was going to be fun, soon. And, without any witnesses to validate it, a small grin etched it's way over his lips. He tapped the rim of his shades, causing it to beep. His standing orders flashed over the lenses, allowing him to maintain his unwavering watch. The door behind him slid open, as several fully geared snipers lined up next to him. No words were spoken, as there was no need. They knew what they're job was, to be the silent and unseen scourge of the enemy ranks. To be the angels of death. "Alpha, Bravo, report. Do you have eyes on the Covy's position?" echoed the voice of Braxx over his team's channel, showing a slight impatience for the enemies approach. He wanted this almost as much as Slate did. Ed's scope scanned and scrutinized every flake of snow in the flurries, scoffing at the absence identifiable movement.

"No joy. Alpha wolves got nothing in our scopes, Sir."

"Damn. Waddell, what can you and Bravo see from the West?"

Slater didn't exactly appreciate Braxx asking for the other's validation, but understood he couldn't risk missing anything.

"No, Sir. There is no Cov-...." Waddell trailed off. Ed knew they'd both seen it, a silent shadow darting through the snow-filled winds. "Scratch that Sir, we have movement three hundred feet out. Approaching Quickly."

"Alpha confirms. Single scouting vehicle, ghost class, grunt pilot. Good spot, Bravo."

Braxx grinned, checking the recorded wind speeds. A single shot would be all but inaudible. He commed back to the Wolf Teams "Confirmed. Make sure that pilot has an accident." He barely got a chance to finish, as Ed's cross hairs hovered over the grunt. The trigger's pulled, and the bullet rips through the methane tank on the stubby creature's back. It yelped and screamed, desperately trying to reach back and do..... something. Not that there was anything it could do. With it's hands off the controls, the ghost swerved and weaved about, tilting and causing one of it's wings to dig deep into the snow. The craft began to cartwheel violently, as the grunt held on for dear life. It's methane tank finally blew, launching the ghost like a mortar round. The damaged vehicle crashed into the frozen earth, where it vaporized and erupted in magnificent pink and blue flames.

"Alpha wolves..." Slater's voice came through over the channel, his voice interrupted by the cocking of his rifle. "First kill."

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be?" replied someone from the opposing sniper team.

---

The Forward Wall

---

Braxx shook his head. "Just remember that my last orders still stand."

Amanda's voiced chimed in on the Major's private frequency.

"Sir, I have an unauthorized lift-off. Patching you into the hornet's comms."

The female voice on the channel was unmistakable. There really was only one person crazy enough to pull this little stunt.

"Sir, I can use the turrets on my hornet as backing fire."

"Negative, 3-4, negative. You did not secure clearance for lift-off, not to mention the winds are way too damn rough. I am not going to risk our only bird in the air to be downed in a storm, nor am I going to let the enemy know we have air support! I repeat. Jean, ground that hornet right god damn now! That's an order, Lieutenant."

The Major pinched the bridge of his nose. His thoughts on the matter were simple and shared by many. Our only air support, and she has the discipline of an Alaskan bush pilot.... He heard Slater's voice report back from his post: "Multiple high-speed tangos approaching. Ghosts, and they're rushing the line. Standing orders still in effect, Sir?"

"Confirmed. Do not reveal your presence until killzone is established."

He glanced down to the trench, as several troopers were busy setting up deployable turrets. Above him, he heard the sounds of the heavy turrets being prepped to deal with the threat. To his sides, several more turrets were being set up, one of which the Major casually strolled to. He nodded to the marines, and said "I'll take it from here, trooper" as he ran his fingers over it's steel frame. He stepped behind it, gripping the trigger's and peering through it's sights. In the distance, the enemy ghosts streaked across the snow.

"All deployments, light 'em up!"

The fortress practically breathed lead onto the opposition, as bullets shredded through the various alien metals. The ghosts returned fire, but were easily overwhelmed by the sheer amount of firepower that bared down on them from the giant, fire breathing monster they attempted to assault. The nimble crafts exploded violently, cascading the battlefield in unnaturally colored fire. One in particular was caught in the cross hairs of Major Braxx, as he grinned deviously and opened fire. The tiny grunt which operated it seamed helpless, as it was viciously perforated by his machine gun fire. The base of the vehicle exploded, launching the frame and fuel core through the air like fireworks. They too bursts into brilliant plasmafire, and sprayed upon the wall of the fort. Many more would accompany the would-be assailants in a horrible death. Though before he could enjoy his fun too thoroughly, he heard the sniper teams begin reporting back over the comms.

"Large vehicles approaching in the distance."

"Confirmed. Prowlers. Acting as rapid transit."

"They're trying to fill the gap."

"It's a grunt-rush."

A cigar was now clenched between the Major's teeth, it's smoke leaking through his wry smile. He removed the cigar, and tapped off the ashes onto the ground.

"Dalton, your boys up for good times? Cause I think these little bastards aim to introduce themselves to your rifles. Infantry..... prepare to engage."

Jack waited as the humming of Covenant vehicles grew closer, which he could surprisingly hear over the blizzard and through his helmet. He looked over his small squad: Private Barnes; Private, First Class Noble; Private Beam; and Lance Corporal Daniels. Each man was raring to go as much as Jack was. He'd drilled these men enough that they all knew better than to disobey orders and so they waited.

"Infantry... prepare to engage." He heard over the built-in radio.

"Get ready boys! Await the command, but be ready for hell to break loose! And get ready to bring hell to the Covenant as well!" The squad straightened immediately and Jack watched as Beam loaded a round into his mounted grenade launcher, which had been apparently forgotten before then.

Just a little bit longer...
-----------------------------------------------
Meanwhile...

"Infantry..... prepare to engage." Shane heard the command and took a deep breath.

Then Dalton gave his prebattle speech to the men: "You heard the Major! Get your asses ready for some fun! I want rifles at the ready and scopes being used effectively. And you'd better not miss, either!" he added. "I want to see that training in action, I want to see accuracy you aren't physically capable of, soldiers! Don't you let me down or I'll make damn sure you do a five laps around the whole base for every wasted bullet, and that means non-fatal injuries!"

Accuracy wasn't guaranteed, but Shane wasn't about to let a war injury put him down. He'd take the running over dying any day. He flipped the safety off, put a round in the chamber, and rested the butt of his battle rifle against his left shoulder, ready to bring it up and fire at any given moment.

East Sniper's Den

---

Slater watched, finger intently on his trigger, as finally a kill-zone was established. He watched as Alex on the opposing team downed a prowler with a single, well-placed shot. Not bad, he thought. Though seeing as how the Sgt. lost his cool and wasted three shots on one survivor. Ed could understand being pissed. When a sniper pulls a trick shot like that, any survivors are usually taken as an insult to the shooter's skill. But not being level headed enough to line up your next shot properly? Waddell was better than that. Bryce, the gunny to Ed's right, began with the usual trash talk.

"What's the matter, Bravo? Can't hit the broudside of a gr-"

"Stow it, Corporal." Ed snapped at him.

"Sir?"

"In a drill, in the range, the competitive crap is fine. But this is real. This is war, and I won't tolerate that shit under my command. Do it again and I will have you demoted. Am I understood?"

".......Yes Sir, Sgt. Slater Sir."

---

The Forward Wall

---

Braxx heard over the comms chatter that Corp. Laughlin was the first to bag one. He knew this was her first time under live fire, so congratulations were due. "Nicely done, Corporal. When this is done, the first beer is on me. But don't let it go to your head" he snickered. The grin on his face didn't last long, though, as he notice something..... odd. The prowlers were spaced apart, and charging in perfectly even lines. This forced the turrets to split the fire between them evenly, which their armor could easily absorb, or focus on them one at a time. Either way, this little maneuver effectively lowered their casualties and practically guaranteed that the majority of their troops would make it to the front lines. The grunt-rush was piling up, and fast.

Anyone who dealt with brutes for more than two firefights knew that they were generally straightforward when it came to combat. Charging forward with savage brutality, they didn't waste time attempting strategy and relied on force to when the fight. They got the name "brute" for a reason. But these kinds of tactics were a good bit out of the norm for them.

"All deployments, focus fire on the Prowlers. Take out their pilots when their exposed. Conway, things are going to get a little heavy. Stay frosty and drop 'em as they line up. Carter, the mini-me's are piling up, keep your men on stand-by. I'd like not to give your presence away this early, but I'm trusting you not to jump the gun here. You can question my good judgement later, just keep those torches lit and at the ready."

Slater piped up over the comms as he saw the tell-tale movement over the rocky outcrops. "Major, I got bird-heads moving in to give fire support. Confirming orders to make these birdies go bye-bye."

"Confirmed, make the feathers fl-" Braxx was cut off by the roar of Hornet engines over his head. Jean dived the Covenant's front line, letting loose with a missile volley and gunning down two Prowlers.

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ. Lieutenant, you are disobeying a direct order! I told you to land that bird!" the Major barked over the hornet's channel. It's pilot commed back "I can flank and cut off their retreat!" but Braxx wasn't going to have it. "Neg-o-tive, Jean. Land that bird or I will have your flight status revoked!" "Major, I can get eyes on where their reinforcements are coming from. That'd at least give us an idea on where their forward base is!" The Major sighed with a loud growl. She obviously wasn't going to budge on this, so he had to relent. "Alright, god damn it. But if you start catching any stray or direct fire, you are to return to the pad immediately. That is not up for debate. Understand, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, yes Sir!" Jean purred over the channel, sending a rocket into a cluster of jackals. Each gave a warbling scream as they were jettisoned through the air. "Heads up, Major. Second wave of ghost inbound. ETA.... uhhh.... now."

"All deployments, focus fire on the Prowlers. Take out their pilots when their exposed. Conway, things are going to get a little heavy. Stay frosty and drop 'em as they line up. Carter, the mini-me's are piling up, keep your men on stand-by. I'd like not to give your presence away this early, but I'm trusting you not to jump the gun here. You can question my good judgement later, just keep those torches lit and at the ready."

Jack let out a deep breath as the thought of torching some Covenant ass rose to the forefront of his mind, but he obeyed the orders. "Steady, the lot of you. We'll get our chance to shine. And we'll light these bastards up in the galaxy's biggest fucking bonfire!" The other four Hellbringers nodded and many prepared their starting stances for when they would wade through the Covenant forces, throwing napalm everywhere.

-------------------------------------------------

Shane fired his battle rifle, sticking to a single shot per target as he peered through the scope. Grunt after grunt fell, with only three shots missing due to his body still not being used to holding the weapon in his forced ass backwards manner. He kept his bad eye closed and his ears open for any nearby sounds.

As luck would have it, Shane spotted a prowler moving in. The first shot bounced off the brute gunner's helmet. "Oh for fuck's sake..." He muttered as he took the next shot. And managed to knock the helmet from the brute's head, exposing him even better to the snipers and other soldiers.

The Major was unnerved, this was way too many forces for just prodding defenses. The Grunts were just pushing closer and closer to the trenches, some of them dying less than ten feet from the sand-bag nests. The only relief Braxx got was when his eye in the sky spotted the source of the reinforcements. Lt. Harveys' voice commed in over his channel, "Sir, I have an opening, want me to take it?" "High altitude strafing runs only, Lieutenant. No more cowboy stunts" the Bear replied, taking a pause in his turret fire. The rattatat of his gun resumed, as he tried to aerate one of the Brutes that were still shuttling Grunts. His teeth gnashed on the butt of his cigar as he tried to find a better solution to this problem.

"Conway, check the line and make sure anti-armor aren't slacking off again, like that last drill."

"Major, multiple plasma-based ordinance incoming. Estimated fire-source being 22 Revenant class assault crafts."

The bleak, gray background lit up with scattered pink streaking lights. Long distance attempts to scatter resistance forces. Our resistance. They were pulling shock and awe tactics. The Major was dumb-struck. What in the hell was going on here? Brutes aren't that smart! It wasn't till he realized that those shots were going to be surprisingly accurate that he snapped out of it. One mortar in particular caught his eye, as it's angle-of-trajectory was heading his way.

"Incoming! Everyone Take Cover!" Those were the only words he could get out in time As he dove away from the encroaching ball of death. As he and several other marines hit the deck, bright fuchsia flames and searing, white hot liquid explodes and completely encompass the turret. The metal floor screeches and warps, blackening around the edges of the now glowing steel. Braxx didn't waste time worrying about possible flak or aftershock, as he sprung to his feet. His thoughts were only about his men. He stormed his way off the wall, retrieving a shotgun and assault rifle off a gun rack.

"Scramble all medics, and get any wounded off the field. Prioritize those God damn Revenants for any anti-armor and all turrets. The Grunts are going to breach, but we can deal with them. Tell Carter to recover, regroup, and reply with napalm. All Wolf-Teams are to deploy railguns. Those bastards may be light armored, but we have to take them out now. And..... note any casualties."

His voice dropped at the thought. Why were the Covenant wasting such effort on what logically should have been a light incursion? If they could spare this much meat for the grinder...... how big was their main force? He began thinking out loud.

"There's no way in hell they could have mobilized so much so fast. How long were they planning this?"

"Sir?"

"This has to have something to do with that damn base. They're doing something those ball-sacks out there don't want completed."

"But sir-"

"I'm getting answers, damn it. I'm not risking my marines without knowing what the hell we're guarding."

"Yes, sir, but-"

"What the hell is that MAC even doing? How'd Covy even get here? God damn it, you'd think we'd get more warning than this. Trooper. Hand me those frags."

"Sir!"

"What?"

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think? I'm going out to the trench to hold this God damn hunk of frozen crap with the rest of those marines, who all just got shafted harder than I did!"

And with that, Braxx stormed out into the biting frost, the sounds of war drowning out the AI's voice in his ear as she burned holes through his logic. He didn't care, he would bleed with his men. Promptly spotting the Captain, he addressed the man and tossed him the rifle. Carter was scrambling to his feet, Mallard was attending the wounded, and all down the line marines leapt back to their posts. Though it seemed that their lines broke long enough for the Grunts to be upon them, as one of the horrid little monsters waddled over the lip of the trench, firing pink shards at a couple troops. It quickly stopped, prompted by the feel of a large metal barrel under it's chin. "Aw, crap!" was all it said, before luminescent blue spray through the air and out the very large hole in it's head. Braxx huddled down and popped two more of the miniature aliens. The fact that they were in shotgun range was proof enough that it was time.

"Carter! Now!"

Shane backed as close to the wall as he could and then rolled to avoid the blast radius of the plasma. It was warm... a feeling Shane hadn't felt in a long ass time. He reveled in the heat and switched hands as the grunt wave came upon them. He switched hands on his battle rifle and started shooting as a reflex. Grunt after grunt fell to his shots, though many returned fire. They missed, barely in some case and by a large margin in others. As he was killing, he saw a massive hulk nearby.

It was the Major.

Dodging a plasma grenade, that exploded and sent another wave of heat over him, Shane slowly worked his way towards his C.O. "How bad is it, sir?" He asked, as one grunt tried a kamikaze attack and was shot before it could even get ten feet from the edge of the trench.

-------------------------------

Jack looked up in time to see the plasma. As it was, there was only one way to be safe from the artillery. "Into the hole! Now!" The squad of Hellbringers raced back inside and waited for the bombardment to be over. Looking over his squad, Jack ground his teeth together.

If that was how the Covenant was going to play it...

He motioned for the squad to go back outside and stood at the ready. The grunts were getting close. Too close. Just as he was about to disobey orders and signal his squad to counterattack, he heard the words he was dying to hear. "Carter! Now!"

"Okay boys, form up and light 'em up! Remember our equal opportunity policy with the Covenant! Every last one of these motherfuckers dies here!" The squad formed a wedge with Jack taking point, Beam and Noble to either side of him and Barnes and Daniels taking on the outside part of the wedge.

Jack started walking out towards the enemy, leading his men to the very front of the wave of Covenant forces. As soon as he saw the first grunt get close enough, he started spraying napalm, bathing the alien force in the liquid fire. To both of his sides, his squad was doing exactly the same. Not even the prowlers were safe as Barnes sprayed the brute occupants of a couple of them. There was no need to do much in the way of dodging. The wedge was creating a protective 100 meter radius of fire that obscured the group of Hellbringers from view, so most shots went wide or could be dodged by spreading out the formation a little before tightening back up.

-------------------------------

Shane stiffened, shocked by the destructive force the Major had just ordered onto the battlefield. The fire melted the snow and the napalm stuck to the ground, burning fiercely until the water from the snow put it out, only to be replaced with fire a little further than the last line in the snow.

The Major slouched behind the wall of frozen Earth, taking a moment to place fresh shells in his shotgun. His only comfort being that anti-armor finally woke the hell up and got off their asses about those damn Rev's. A torrent of pink glowing shards reigned over his head as one of his troopers approached him. "How bad is it, sir?" "Nothing to worry about, Marine, just keep your skirt on and your head down." He was lying, but he couldn't worry his troops. This wasn't normal, and the possibilities twisted a knot in his stomach. Braxx glanced over and noticed that Dalton seemed to be enjoying his new upgrade, as Braxx must have counted eight kills in just a few moments of the Captain getting his mitts on that rifle. "I don't remember these aliens using such tactics under Brute command, sir." Conway said, pausing to swap out a fresh magazine. "Whatever this implies, I don't like it one bit."

The Major paused a moment, fingers still clinched tight on a shell of buckshot. His brow lowered as he looked at Conway. "Yeah, that makes two of us. These assholes are taking orders from up the chain, and whoever, or whatever it is, is smarter than a god damn Bru-" he was cut off, instinctively ducking at the screech of rapidly combusting air and the roar of rising flames. Oh, and the screaming of a lot of burning Grunts. The little aliens squealed and yelled, as they ran around trying to outrun the pain and fire. It really just made it worse. Eventually, their methane tanks ruptured one by one, launching the flaming midgets airborne before exploding, shooting flames and bright blue gore everywhere. It looked like we had our own artillery, as the mini explosions filled the air. The confusion must've been a bitch, and that's just what Braxx wanted. He looked over to the Captain with his renowned "shit-eating" grin. "Yeah, Carter may be a pain in the ass, but you gotta give him this...... That soldier knows how to make one hell of an entrance."

---

Jean struggled against the winds for control. Being forced this high up by the plasma artillery, the blizzard became the worst enemy yet. Slowly she managed to peak below the clouds, using the mountain ridge as shelter from the storm winds. This, however, was as low as she'd go. Things were getting way too crazy on the ground for any swoops, as fun as it was to watch Jackals crap themselves. Her targeting systems blinked to life, taking note of each sizable target on her screen. Prioritizing the Revenant's, the Lieutenant grinned as one by one little red boxes formed over four of them. Weapons Lock: Confirmed. Her wry smile only grew as she spoke the words she'd waited to say all day.

"Hornet 1, Fox 3!" Her payload of ordinance dead-dropped from the Hornet's wings for a moment, before ignition guided them with lethal accuracy towards the doomed vehicles. The bright flashes of plasma fire marked each one's utter destruction, being rivaled only by the flames that slowly crawled across the ground below. "The boys are having fun, I see." Her eyes spotted a group of tangos flanking around the hellfire, making a mad dash..... err..... "waddle" for the trench. From this altitude kills would be nearly impossible to confirm, but a nice spritz of chaingun fire might be enough to scatter the little bastards.... she thought as she reigned lead down on the little specks on the ground below. Some ran, some exploded, some just dropped. Either way, job well done.

---

Within the East and West sniper's dens, men scrambled to mount the large railguns at the embrasures in the wall. The order had been given for advanced anti-armor, and the Wolf Teams were eager to comply. The large cannons clicked and hissed as they locked into place, humming to life for the very first time. The imaging scoped blinked on, showing the many possible targets in the field. Slate took up position behind the weapon as it's gunner, and somehow he knew Waddell had done the same. His first target came into his crosshairs, as his finger gently eased on the trigger. The Revenant's mortar cannon warmed up, preparing to launch it's deadly plasma at the base. Slater never gave it the chance, as the magnetically-launched projectile tore right through it's weapon. The power overload caused the plasma fuel-core of the vehicle to surge and burst, exploding and sending shrapnel and fire everywhere. Alex had chose to aim for the pilot, as his round all-but obliterated both driver and passenger. On both sides, their men opened fire with 50. cal rounds, picking targets and popping heads at their leisure.

One particular Rev seemed to have been frowned upon by what ever cosmic power ran the universe, as it entered the sights of both cannons. The resulting sandwich of faster-than-light rounds caused the fuel core to launch out the front of the vehicle like a bottle-rocket. it skimmed across the field, ricocheting off of the fort itself, sending it airborne back the way it came and finally exploding in the sky over the Covenant's heads. The brilliantly colored energized plasma fire left pinks trails to drift through the sky. It's bright, celestial, almost Heavenly color standing in magnificent contrast to the raging Hell of flames that consumed the Earth below. Ed couldn't help but admire the beautiful sight, birthed by none-other but the carnage of war. That, and the source of said flames. Jack Carter. To Slater, this was a man worthy of respect. Jack was like him, a single man capable of inflicting so much death to the enemy. One soldier, who claimed hundreds if not thousands of Covenant lives, this is the kind of person who would win the game. One soldier, an average soldier. Not some damn Spartan. If the Covenant held higher numbers than humanity, then these would be the men who would even the odds.

---

Valerie stood, in the embrace of the various orchestra of the battle. The barks of shotguns, the booming roars of grenades, the chattering of assault rifles, but all of this only aided in clouding her focus. She knelt beside a man, writhing in pain and struggling to suppress his own screams. A large, bright red blister covered his face where he'd been struck by a large chunk of flash-boiled ice. His agony-induced spasms making it that much harder to tend to his wounds. Valerie held him down to better inspect the injury, and determined that all she could do was numb the pain. With a bit of a struggle, she removed the stopper from a field syringe, pinning the soldiers arm so she could deliver the sedative. The marine's rapidly beating heart raced the agent through his vein, which slowly alleviated his pain. As his breathing stabilized, Val could see that he was in no shape to continue fighting. with one hand motion, a fellow marine came over to cart the young man off. The red cross on his shoulder marked that he carried the same burden as her. To tend to the wounded and dying. And as one medic dragged a body that seemed a bit too lifeless, she was reminded that it wasn't always just the dying they had to care for.

A stream of bright green projectiles darted past her head, as she gripped her rifle and took up cover. Her entire outlook flipping like a switch, and she threw lead and curses at the opposition. "Hey, I'm trying to work, you little micro-midget pains in my ass! I'll put an extra couple of holes in all your asses, you pint-sized sons-a-bitches!" The marine next to her couldn't help but snicker and giggle, hearing the woman that had been described to him as "like an angel" swear so profusely. He just shook his head and looked over at her with a friendly smile. "You must be Valerie, right? Sergeant Valerie Mallard? I'm Jacob" he said, snickering a little more. Val looked him over, with a smirk of her own, before finally asking "So, Jacob, what's so funny about me?" With another shake of his head, Jacob just looked at her. "I'm sorry, but hearing you like that...... I's just that, you know, I heard you were an ang-" he gagged as three needles traced up his chest, a fourth buried in his shoulder. Very close to his throat.

He fell backwards, with Val scrambling to catch him. He laid on his back, his body twitching uncontrollably. A clear sign that he was going into shock. She yelled at him to try and keep him focused. To try and keep him here. "Jacob! Jacob, stay here, stay awake! Come on damn it, just stay awake!" She gripped his hand tightly, hoping to reassure him that she was there. In reality, there was nothing should could do. The bleeding was so severe, he could have been on the table with surgeons at the ready, and he would still be gone. Her warm brown eyes must of reflected that cold truth as he gazed up dazedly into them, smiling at what he beheld as the fire from the battlefield bathed a warm glow over her. It's gentle light accentuating her soft features, making her almost appear to have a halo. "Heh....... you are...... an angel......." Jacob trailed off. His eyes lifting from hers and glazing over, as his grip loosened and his hand thudded against the ground. A single tickle of blood inched it's way from the corner of his mouth to mingle and mix with the rest on the muddy dirt. Watching this, Val felt as if a piece of him would now forever be trapped on this cold, abysmal hell of a planet. As if he could never leave. That thought made her heart sink deep in her chest, but she had to suppress that feeling. Now was not the time for mourning, it was time for revenge.

---

Braxx couldn't grin, seeing casualties in the trenches. He could only grit his teeth as he pumped more rounds through the flames. He could see the Grunts retreating, but wasn't sure if that was a given order. The wind barreled over the fort, pushing the flames forward and chasing the aliens as they ran. "Good, I hope those bastards all get their asses scorched. Give 'em a good taste of the hell from my religion" he grumbled at a rather audible volume. The Major couldn't help but notice that there wasn't a mass retreat, as the grunt would pause every so often to return fire. Odd, but not particularly note-worthy. However, the green streaks whizzing past Carter and his men was. It was green, but not as Illumines as normal energy pistols, and it definitely didn't streak the same way. These were Covenant Combines. Jackals. They're trying to snipe their tanks! "Carter! Get Your Asses Back Here, Now! They're Aiming For Your Tanks!" the Major didn't like this. Not at all. He turned his attention to Conway.


"The Covy's aren't retreating, they're stalling. For what, for who, I don't know. What I do know is we have to break their foothold before whatever it is gets here. Prepare the men, as soon as Carter's boys are back we have to make a push. I don't like it any more than you do, but we have to break them here and now."

Shane tried aiming at the sources of the green streaks through the flames, but it just wasn't very possible. Even with his battle rifle. If was frustrating. Because even with the flames and the explosive, flying grunts, the jackels were getting too close for comfort.

"The Covy's aren't retreating, they're stalling. For what, for who, I don't know. What I do know is we have to break their foothold before whatever it is gets here. Prepare the men, as soon as Carter's boys are back we have to make a push. I don't like it any more than you do, but we have to break them here and now." Shane overheard the Major say to the Captain.

And he just smiled as a desire to make a contribution kicked into overcharge.

-------------------

"Carter! Get Your Asses Back Here, Now! They're Aiming For Your Tanks!"

Jack heard the Major and quickly assessed the situation, just in time to witness a close call as Noble's tank was missed by a green energy round. Even for a PFC, Noble apparently had issues with a few things... such as staying in formation. If they lived to get back to somewhere safe, Jack was going to give him the ass chewing of a lifetime.

"Alright asses back to the trench, make your tanks as hard to hit as possible!" Jack ordered. "Don't let up on the fire though." He added as he shot a grenade high into the Covenant forces. Steadily, he and the others backed up towards the trenches and finally made it to relative safety. Jack looked at the Major and nodded. "Orders, sir?"

Major Braxx

---

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

---

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

---

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

---

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

---

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

---

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."

"Your orders are to sit tight and wait for further orders. Unless the shit hits the turbine again your part here is done."

Jack nodded as the Major ordered the charge. Though he didn't like being out of the game again so soon, he understood the Major's tactics in how to use him and his squad. They hit hard, but their strength was also their weakness: Hellbringers were slow due to their armor and their tanks made wonderful explosives. He turned his attention to Noble and pu on his best authoritative voice.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Private?! Are you trying to get your squad killed?! Carter yelled. "You listen to me and listen well, Private. You'd better fucking hope the Coventant kill you next time, because otherwise I'm going to have you fucking cleaning the latrines with my god damn cigarette butts. Never leave your squad's formation, not if you hope to stay a Hellbringer. Is that clear?!"

Private Noble stood there, standing completely still. "Sir, yes sir."

"I didn't hear you, Private. I said, IS THAT CLEAR?!"

"SIR, YES SIR!" Jack backed up and gave Noble room to breathe.

"Good, now catch a breather all of you. Reload what you need to because I don't think we've seen everything from this force yet." Jack turned his attention to the charge and listened over the radio as he absentmindedly loaded a new grenade into his launcher.

---

Shane rushed forward with the mass of marines. While not the fastest, he was by no means average speed either. He'd hidden most of his physical skills until the last moment because there was little need to normally. Now he wanted to kill these Covenant bastard for everything they'd done. To him. To Fort Echo. And to humanity.

switching his rifle over to his right side, Shame fired at a grunt. A couple of aliens turned to shoot him. The Jackel got a face full of lead... the Brute was taken down by him and a bunch of nearby marines. Brains, blood of varying colors, armor, and body parts littered the wake of the charge. Somewhere off elsewhere, he heard the Major yelled something to his second-in-command, bur even though he didn't catch it, it still brought a smile to his lips.

Shane just kept killing until his rifle let out a click just as he tried to kill a jackel. The alien lunged at him only to find that Shane was not so easily beaten. The butt of his rifle slammed into the side of the alien's face, knocking its momentum out of the air and onto the ground. Planting one foot flat on its neck. Shane dropped his clip and reloaded.

"You picked the wrong race to fight with, asshole." He said with a sadistic grin as he pulled the trigger of his battle rifle. The jackel's head exploded as the three round burst ripped through its shield and skull.

Looking up, Shane smiled... and then he noticed the pods falling around them.

His heart sank as a pair of hunters stepped out of each of the twenty pods and Shane backed up for a moment before shaking his head. As much as he'd kill for a Spartan right now, he believed they still had a chance... though the ominous green glow coming from each hunter's right arm tried to crush that feeling of confidence.

As plasma started tearing through marines, Shane did what many smart one's did. He hit the dirt- er... snow.

Aiming at the closest hunter, he started firing for the neck. A number of bullets ricochets off of the armor, many were stopped once more by Covenant energy shields. But the few that did get through... just pissed off the big guy. Shane honestly had no way to fight these things.

And so he realized that unless a miracle happened, he was dead.

---

If Jack had been smoking when the pods dropped the cigarette would have fallen to the charred ground he was standing on. As soon as they opened, his worst fears were realized... Hunters. too many for simple marines to HOPE to kill. He looked at his men and nodded before getting on the radio.

"Sniper teams, me and my boys are going in. That's a lot of ground to cover, so I need some cover from the enemy jackels. Just a few. The rest of you focus on those hunters and try not to die." He said. "If there are any anti armor out there still alive, try to take as many as you can for now without dying. We'll be joining you momentarily.

"And Major... you won't hear this often, but fuck your orders to my squad." With that he started sprinting as best as his armor could manage for the rest of the marines bolts of green plamsa zoomed by them and every so often but the usual return gift was a sniper round. Finally the hunters were in range. One hunter was stepping forward as one of the marines - Kent he believed the name was - shot one hunter in the neck.

"Pick separate targets and don't let up until the bastards are dead... and watch for friendly fire." Jack sprayed the one going for Kent with burning napalm before launching another grenade at its exposed abdomen from behind.

A second turned to face him just in time for its face to be hit with flaming jelly before it managed to raise it's shield to protect itself. Jack stopped for a moment and rolled to the side - a feat only able to be done by someone who had worn the Hellbringer armor for a number of years and felt as comfortable inside as out of it - to avoid the green fuel rod blast from the hunter's weapon... the sight of which gave Jack an idea.

He turned his flamethrower to the built-in assault cannon and let loose on the exposed canisters. Burning hot flame met explosive irradiated incendiary gel... Jack wasn't suprised to see the hunter flying away in pieces while he was thankful for the notoriously low blast radius of similar weapons he'd seen in his time fighting the Covenant.

But that was two down for Jack. Looking back, he saw his squad using similar fighting tactics, though in total only another five hunters had fallen so far in addition to Jack's two kills. Hunters may be anti-fucking-everything, but Hellbringers could still win out.

Hellbringers: 7
Hunters: zilch

---

Shane breathed a sighed of relief as the Hellbringers appeared. He didn't know what exactly they could do, but at least they had more firepower... pun unintended. Looking over he saw another marine save a man from the Anti-armor squads with a well timed grenade throw. Looking down as his five grenades and his weapons, Shane took a deep breath and shot another hunter in the neck.