Fort Echo

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."

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."

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."

"Charge!"

The command had been given, and Corporal Laughlin had been swept up in the tide of armor that roiled over the edge of the trench, howling wordlessly to add to the undeniably human battle cry issued forth by the Marines. It rose from their front, and seemed to take on a life of its own; building upon itself until it wasnt a hundred sepparate voices, but rather one giant seething rush of an angry white noise. Like the roar of a killer wave thrown onto some god-forsaken shore. And when it broke upon the retreating lines of Covenant, it did so with all the power of thier anger at the audacity of these alien bastards to show up on their doorstep this morning.

Get some.

Return fire was sparce; the Covenant were in a full panic. Laughlin actually managed to outrun a waddling little grunt, comming up behind it so close she was tempted - briefly - to reach out and shake its stupid little air tank right off its back. As if realizing how close its doom was, it turned with plasma-pistol in hand, and Laughlin was forced to end her momentum with a point-blank shot to the alien's face that left cold Grunt blood coating the front of her face and armor. She stopped short, and was torn between utter disgust and a glowing pride. She must look like a fucking badass right now.

With time to pause, she looks around the stampeding mass of human armor to locate the towering figure of Greyson like a waypoint. Someone familiar was a damn comfort, and by the time she spots and reaches him in the debris-strewn field, the shots are growing fewer in between. Scattered shouts of victory were already bubbling up when, in the distance, the massive call of the Orion silences them all as it rips the sky apart.

Slowing to a stop near the big Aussie, Laughlin looks vaguely confused for a moment before she lifts her hand to the left side of her head. Her right ear was still all ringing, but the left had been shielded by her comm headset, and now it filters in the conversation between the Major and Amanda. Her vague smile drops off her face like a rock, and she pales noticably. Looking to Greyson, intent on relaying the warning, the sky opens up a second time. With Covenant drop pods. They shake the earth in a drumming sucession, and it only gets worse when the second ground-shaking impact announces the arrival of towering, mobile artillery.

Alien roars and ominous green glows, Laughlin dives for the slushy ground as a searing surge of energy lances nearby, sending a twisted Prowler wreck into a tumble, exploding in a shower of plasma that caught several nearby Marines inside its radius. They die screaming. And all across the open field, they arent the only screams starting to rise...

The Aussie tore through the Covenant lines as the other Marines around him him did. It was in utter entirety a role reversal, one that even he found himself enjoying. The Grunts and Jackels were a minimum threat. Nothing compared to the horde of marines, rifles in hand, ammo in the clip. The creatures fled before the might of the UNSC getting torn to bits and pieces as it happened. It was a bluntly beautiful sight.

Greyson took time to fire at runners with his SAW, the heavier-than-most-rounds causing intense damage to the Grunts, the rounds ripping through their hides with a loud popping noise. Greyson rarely aimed at individuals; locating groups and blazing them in a saute of lead. Causing the bioluminesce blood to spray here and there, coating the ground, the snow-ridden chunk beneath their feet into a slush of life-fluids and gore. Unlike most accounts in history, it wasn't Human gore, but Covie. These bird-like creatures and arthropods were not the top-dogs here. The marines were.

They continued the push past the twisted wrecks, Greyson locating a survivor in the strewn metal of a Prowler. A Brute, impaled roughly to the snow and ice, legs trapped under the frame where the creature used to sit and guide the light ground transport. It was Gargling for it's life. Clawing feebly at the snow in last attempts to escape, it was obvious it had been here for a while, shielded on the knee side of the wreckage but held down by a piece of warped alloy, bleeding out like a stuck pig. Greyson looked at the beast, it snarled, meekly, the Marine almost sympathized with it. It seemed human in some aspects now, it was mortal, trapped by fate. He growled at himself, he aimed and fired multiple rounds into it. Carrying on almost immediately.

Soon the cheering broke out as soon as it seemed they had won. The foes they had been fighting eradicated. The day seemed over. Greyson in typical military fashion raised his gun to the air and bellowed in his accented voice. Shouting on the top of his lungs, a smile under his snow mask. He could hardly believe himself, they'd won and he was still breathing! Many Marines didn't make it this far, but it was not their time to mourn. It was time to cheer and shout, to show the Galaxy who he was, to show it that this rock was his! Along with every other damn leatherneck's here! I didn't last though...

He looked over at Laughlin for a brief second, in that second he could tell something was wrong. Her shoulders were slouched, along with many other ques of a crushed spirit. He heard a piercing noise in the sky and looked up. Drop-pods... "Fuck..." Was all Greyson muttered, hands instinctively pulling his Squad Automatic Weapon back into place. The pods it, and the next thing he knew Hunters were upon them. Roaring their challenge at the Human Soldiers and Warriors in an unemphatic display of strength and unity between the Alien forces.

The Aussie hit the dirt next to Laughlin, hearing the screams and sizzle of plasma around him. He looked at her and growled, instinct started up in him again, thee Hunters were hurting and endangering his damn friends and allies. It was like the incident on Earth which caused him to enlist. These Giant bulks of armor had made it personal. While other Marine's cowered he pulled his rocket launcher off his back and then climbed into a crouch, aiming for the first Hunter he could get a safe shot on. He shouted and pulled the trigger, the rocket tore through the air at the beast who was tilted sideways aiming for a group of dashing Marines. The ordinance smashed into its side, causing the monster to bellow as its armor came off in pieces, orange blood spurting onto the snow. The shambled for a second before landing with a heavy thud. The many smaller beings which composed into it shuddering and convulsing and squiring before going limp one by one, accepting cruel death. Greyson still had another rocket loaded, one he planned on using. He moved positions behind a Prowler wreck, locking onto his second target. The Hunter was firing at a group of Marine's behind cover, the Aussie quickly aimed his shot as he was distracted and fired. The payload streaked into it, however, this time it wasn't lethal. The rocket impacted on the behemoth's shield and threw it backward, roaring in rage, some armor on the arm and side torn asunder, dripping small lines of blood. Wounded, the massive beast fired a shot off at the marine's before rushing Greyson's position. The Aussie heard the steps and lunged away, the Prowler wreck behind him flipping over his head from the heavy shield bash. He flipped over and looked the Hunter raising its shield to finish him, he clenched. Must have been an angel looking over him that day. A grenade hit the Hunter's back and went off, killing it and shielding Greyson from the blast and shrapnel with its own body, it fell forward in a suspended motion. The Human rolling out of ts way scrambling for his launcher. The soldier that tossed the grenade hoisted him up and pulled him to cover. Greyson panted, slouched against the cover. Thanking luck or God or whatever just saved his ass.

"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.