FSE

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Previously:

"Ooh-rah, motherfuckers! Don't mess with the corps!"

Seth and Boone run into Sergeant Major Token and his group of local marines. Together they plan to take it to the Covenant, when suddenly a UNSC ship breaks orbit and crashes in the city, bathing the area in a thick haze of dust. Seth is sent out to investigate a nearby escape pod that crashed in the chaos, to retrieve an encrypted channel so they can home in on the emergency signals of the escape pods scattered around the city. On the way, Seth has his own run in with some Covenant.

"Boom, bee-atch!"

Dealing with the alien problem, Seth makes it to the escape pod, but is jumped and knocked out by the brute he thought was dead. When he wakes, he finds himself in the tender care of an amazing, but mysterious jackal girl.

"Thank you, human."

When she leaves, Seth retrieves the encrypted frequency and is retrieved by the air-cav, to be immediately re-deployed and secure some of the lifeboats crashed across the city.

---***---

Halo: FUBAR

Chapter 03

[Sniper Fi]

> 2552, Olduvai, The Inner Colonies, Mission Time: 7 Hours.

I'm not sure about other peoples' views on the AV-14 fast attack VTOL, nicknamed the 'hornet' by its peers, but personally I hated it. Not as a gunship, but as a platform for moving troops in and out of battle. The craft was small and stubby, with rotating jet engines mounted on the high 'wings' and a seat on each side of the fuselage, on top of the long landing skids on the bottom of the vehicle. It was on one of these seats I was seated, one hand clutching my new sniper rifle, the other holding on tight to the handhold beside the seat. My feet were planted firmly on the footholds built into the skids, but I was still pretty much free floating. There were no seatbelts, and unfortunately safety tethers were not standard issue. If a marine didn't have a safety tether, well... fuck 'em.

That 'fuck 'em' attitude seemed to be familiar within the UNSC lately.

On the other hand, I could admit the hornet made a pretty nifty sniping platform. Yes I was completely open and without cover, but I had an extremely good one-hundred-and-eighty degree field of view on my flank, and Sergeant Boone had an identical view on the opposite side. The VTOL was stable too for such a small craft. But with small size came vulnerability. Next to no armour, small arms fire was often enough to take out a hornet.

Looking to the rear I saw the bulky, armoured pelican drop ships fall into formation behind us. Those babies were much more apt for moving troops. Coated in thick energy dispersing armour, held steady by powerful nacelle mounted jet-engines, armed to the teeth with missile pods, a troop bay machine gun and a chin mounted cannon and finally capable of carrying not only two, but a company of twenty marines plus three flight crew. Each of these three pelicans carried a small search and rescue contingent of militia. The firepower in comparison between the hornet and the pelican made me wonder.

'Why the fuck do these guys even need an escort?'

Far below us the city streets scrolled past. We were in full flight, skirting above the rooftops searching for the first life boat. Boone had used the box I retrieved from the first pod to home in on the others and directed the pilot accordingly.

"Pods landed all across the city." Boone said over the comms, the wind rushing noisily around my helmet.

"Thanks, captain obvious, we knew that." I replied.

"I'm forwarding mission objectives to you." Boone continued. On queue a trio of objectives blinked to life in the centre of my HUD before minimising to the side and fading away. They were generic. Locate pod one, locate pod two, etcetera. "We'll provide sniper support from the hornet and clear the area so a pelican can go in and rescue each escape pod crew."

"Earlier you said we were going to save all the downed escape pods." I called glancing at my objectives again. "Now you only want to save three. Am I the only one seeing something wrong with this picture?"

I was ignored as we pulled up to the first objective. Looking down I felt ill. The height was terrifying, at least two hundred meters, and what was happening around the first escape pod was equally scary.

The pod had landed in the middle of the street, leaving a long groove where it hit the deck. The crew were all outside, hiding behind barricades and abandoned cars, firing their weapons down the street. Tracers licked one way, plasma fire went back. Shifting my gaze back I saw a large covenant squad, four elites, four jackals and a dozen or so grunts swarming around, dodging between cover, attempting to push closer to the marines holding them off.

"Those boys need some help!" Boone cried. "Stabilise... aaaaand..." the hornet came to a hover, allowing me to let go of my handhold and take my rifle in two hands. "Alright! Let 'em have it, kid!"

Weapon shouldered, I angled my head down behind the scope and watched the Covenant jump closer. They turned from ant-size into frighteningly close. The first alien I sighted was a jackal. His shield was up, bullets bouncing off the thin film of energy. From my angle, his head remained clearly exposed. Holding my breath, I placed the circular crosshair over the alien's head and gently squeezed the trigger. A moment later the jackal's head exploded. There was never anything more satisfying than the kick of a high powered rifle, and watching a tracer cut clean through an alien skull.

I shifted aim and sighted a grunt next. This was a moving target. I lined up my shot slightly ahead of the alien and... the weapon kicked and a round cut straight through the grunt's chest. I couldn't make out any details, but I didn't need to. The alien flopped to the ground dead and that was good enough for me.

Lifting my head slightly, I spotted an elite poke his head out of cover. I shifted my rifle and peered through the scope again. This had been the first time I'd seen elites on Olduvai, and I'd be sure it wouldn't be the last time. These seven foot tall beasts were broad and powerful, stood on quadruped legs and had long, sleek necks. Their faces ended in four tooth filled mandibles. Elites were the core of the Covenant military leadership. Disciplined warriors, they feared nothing, not even death. They had a strict code of honour, and strange cultures in which a drawn weapon must always draw blood, and a warrior is promoted on the basis of how many enemy soldiers he kills. I'd seen elites up close once before on a different world. I would hope never to re-live that experience again.

I focused the reticule on the head and squeezed the trigger... my rifle kicked and let out a deafening crack, but the tracer soared high over the elite's head.

"Damn!" I cursed, taking aim again with my last round.

This time I took it slow. Slow breaths, focus on the enemy. I saw his face, square in my sights. He was ducked down behind a car, waiting for me to lose interest and shoot at someone else...

My finger tightened and the rifle fired again. This time the round hit home. It pierced straight through the elite's personal force field and through his throat. The alien slumped heavily to the ground in a pool of purple blood.

"Bam, said the lady!" I cried out with glee, dropping the empty magazine. It clanged loudly against one of my footholds and span down to the ground far below. I quickly produced a full mag and jammed it into place.

Levelling the long weapon again, I sighted some of the grunts now. My finger squeezed in quick succession. Four rounds scythed down on the group of enemies, and four grunts died within seconds of each other, hissing gasses from their breached suits.

I swapped magazines again when the pilot suddenly jerked on the control yolk. The hornet twisted sharply, causing me to nearly slip from my seat. "Whoa, hey, what's the big idea?" I cried grabbing my handhold.

We lost altitude, and a second later the hornet's guns flickered to life. The rotary cannons buzzed loudly, pissing empty shells into the street below, sending white hot tracers slicing through the enemy ranks. Grunts were thrown to the ground with force. Jackal shields popped out of life and the aliens were torn limb from limb. The elites attempted to push out of the arc of fire, but were sliced down running.

As soon as the last elite tumbled to the ground, I felt another jerk and we were drifting back into the air again.

"Wasn't that much easier?" I cried. "Wouldn't it have been quicker for us to just do that instead of me fucking around with a sniper rifle?"

"First site clear." Boone said as the first pelican lowered to the street to pick up the survivors. Boone then banged on the hull where the pilot sat with an open hand. "Take us to the next one."

As we pulled away, flying full speed over the rooftops again, a small tick appeared beside my first objective. I should have been proud, but something told me that tick was not properly earned.

Distant explosions grumbled louder as we reached our objective. Looking down I saw the crashed pod, like the first, in the middle of the street, but it was empty. No survivors hanging around.

"Doesn't look like the survivors hung around." I called. "They must have moved out."

"I don't see any survivors." Boone repeated. "We'll search the area, they can't have gotten far!"

I rolled my eyes.

"There!" the sergeant shouted almost immediately. "That rooftop!"

I looked around, but couldn't see it. It must have been on Boone's side. This meant, with some luck, he would take this one... but that would be too lucky. I groaned as the hornet swung right around until I was facing the scene. A group of marines clad clearly in green were on a nearby rooftop. On the streets below were three Covenant tanks, pummelling the hell out of the building. The ventral flaps on the wraith tanks opened up, and each time they did a massive ball of plasma, flaring like a sun shot into the air, blasting a chunk out of the apartment building housing the marines.

"The plasma guns on those wraiths will cut us to shreds if we move in to kill those tanks!" Boone said. "Take out the gunners, and the hornet will do the rest!"

With a sigh I shouldered my rifle again and took aim. "I think it should go on record that I am not a trained sniper!" I yelled over the explosions below. "But you are, sarge!"

The first sleek wraith sprang closer. The tanks were like tail-less hammerhead sharks when viewed from above. Located just behind the pilot hatch in the top of the sleek hull was a gunner nest with a mounted plasma gun. Behind that was the plasma mortar, from which the giant suns of plasma were fired.

I eyed up the first gunner and fired. The round hit the elite in the top of the head, killing him instantly. I quickly scrolled to the next one and fired, killing that one with one shot too.

"Great work kid!" Boone cried. "One more to go!"

"I know, I can count." I replied irritably, sighting the last target, firing as I said: "Fucking commentator."

The shot missed, whizzing over the elites head. I cursed, zooming in further and placing the crosshair on the elite's head as he turned to look me right in the eye. The alien's mandibles parted and he roared animatedly seconds before I shoved a sniper round through his head. The bullet passed straight through the forehead, cracking open his helmet and tossing it into the air. The cloud of gore splattered all across the hull of the wraith before the elite slumped forward, sprawled over the roof of the pilot's cabin, purple blood trickling down the side of the tank.

"Okay that's it. Can we... whoa!" I was cut off as the hornet swung around and dropped to the deck. I nearly slid out of my seat, catching the handhold just in time.

Rockets dropped from the belly of the hornet and caught themselves out of free-fall as the thrusters fired up. The shaped explosives soared downward, impacting with the first wraith. Explosions rippled across the hull, gutting the first mortar tank as the VTOL turned to the next wraith. Again, rockets streaked through the air leaving white tracers and tore the vehicle apart. The last met the same fate, flames bursting out of the sleek hull, twisting the armour into odd angles and throwing debris out ward as electronics sparked and spluttered.

The hornet twisted sharply again, causing my stomach to churn before I was sucked into my seat, the vehicle rising into the air again. Soon I was looking over the rooftop again, the marines slowly climbing to their feet and marking off a landing area with flares, waving the pelican closer. As the drop ship swooped past us, causing the hornet to sway slightly I looked down and saw a young marine. A girl, must have been minimum enlistment age in full uniform a big bulky assault rifle compared to her fragile frame held in her hands. She was looking up at us and waving, a broad smile on her face. I smirked, waving back.

The marine turned on her heel and ran to where the pelican was hovering low so they could climb on... but what happened next happened so quickly, nobody saw it coming. As the girl ran past the roof access doorway, it burst open in an explosion of blue light. I looked away, almost blinded by the flash.

Shaking my head, I looked up again to see the girl was on her feet... only because she was being held up by an elite. In the eight foot alien's other hand was a glowing weapon. The energy sword consisted of two elegantly curved blades that ended in perfect points at the tip of the weapon.

The elite's articulated mandibles parted into a loud blood-lust roar as the marines circled the alien, rifles up. The elite shook the girl who gripped the alien's broad forearm, using her as a human shield. Her legs kicked the air as she was lifted clean off her feet and blocked all shots for the elite's head.

"Shit, we have no shot!" a panicked voice yelled over the radio.

"C'mon, kid. Take that elite out!" Boone yelled.

I snapped up my weapon. Not because Boone told me to, but because that girl was in trouble. It was pure instinct.

I zoomed in and placed the crosshair on the impossibly small target that was the exposed part of the elite's head. Sweat prickled the back of my neck and forehead. My heart was beating a million miles per hour, but I forced my breathing slow and steady.

The crosshair bobbed up and down slightly as I focused on the elite, not on the fear in the girls eyes. She squirmed and shook as she struggled. I steadied my aim, my palms sweaty and slick. I took in a long breath and held the rifle perfectly still, looking the alien directly in the eye. My finger squeezed very gently...

"Take the shot, kid!" Boone yelled, almost causing me to twitch and put a bullet through the marine's head.

"Shut the fuck up." I whispered back, pulling the trigger all the way back.

The rifle kicked and my aim crawled up a few inches. Somewhere below the crosshair in my scope I saw the round enter an eye socket. It had hit the elite. The energy shield protecting the creature popped out of existence and the anti-materiel round entered the soft tissue, tearing through skull and brain matter, exiting out the other side, causing an explosion of blood.

The elite's body went limp as I let out a relieved breath. The marine fell to her feet and collapsed, shaking all over as her squad mates ran to her aid.

Lowering my rifle, I rested my head back, staring into the sky. "Asshole, down." I reported breathlessly over the radio.

That was when I heard a little noise. It sounded like it was in the back of my head, but crackled like it was transmitted over the radio. A small 'blip-bloop.'

I lifted my head and looked around, as if searching for where it came from. There was no indication. It must have been my imagination.

"Good work, kid." Boone congratulated loudly.

"Damn right that's good work." I snapped, reloading my rifle. "What have you done lately that was in any way as awesome as I am right now?"

The moment I was done the hornet pulled away again. Looking back I saw the marines carry the girl onto the pelican and the drop ship take off into the sky. They were headed for the rally point, no doubt. That was where I was hoping to go when this joy ride was over.

"Okay, almost done, kid." Boone said as the second objective ticked off on my HUD. "The last one should be around..."

The radio clicked off, then a burst of static hissed noisily in my ear. Through the distortion I heard a new voice, deep and formal, with the rattle of gunfire in the background. "This is Captain Jason Locks. Does anyone read me, over?"

"Captain?" Boone replied as if he knew who this Captain Locks was. "This is Sergeant Boone. We hear you, over!"

"Thank God. I'm pinned down near the UNSC Cuddles' crash site. Can you come get us, over?"

"We're coming now!" Boone said without hesitating. "You hear that, kid? The captain is alive!"

"The captain of what?" I thought out loud. "Sarge, we do not know who that is!"

"We need to save the captain!" Boone continued. "With him we may actually stand a chance out here!"

"As opposed to without him we can get out of here, regroup at the rally point, evacuate and live to a ripe old age." I replied.

"Hey sergeant. You go get the captain." A woman's voice chimed in. "I'll take these marines to the last crash site. It should only take us five minutes on afterburners to drop survivors off at the RV then come back to you guys."

"We'll lock down the crash site until you get there. Just hurry up." Boone replied, banging his fist on the cockpit wall again.

The hornet nose dropped as a timer blinked to life in the corner of my vision. We were speeding through the air towards a huge black plume of smoke rising into the air where the cruiser had crashed. Something in my mind asked if this was such a good idea, charging blind into an obviously thick fire fight. Then I remembered I was still with Boone, so rational thought was the first thing out the window.

The crash site loomed into view, and soon we found ourselves orbiting the captain's position. The cruiser had landed nose first and the rear end hung in the air, leaving a massive groove in the city where it had landed. Flames belched out of several dozen hull breaches, and the armoured hull was scorched, dented and scratched. The internal skeletal frame was exposed here and there where the armour had been torn away, and a fire raged around where the front was partially buried.

Directly below us in one of the streets, partially levelled and upturned was a thick fire fight. Tracers flew one way, plasma and other energy based projectiles flew back. The road was buckled and broken, forming several large muddy potholes and slanted, craggy pillars and blocks of concrete for cover. On one side, pushing down the street were Covenant forces, elites, jackals and grunts. Taking cover in the jagged debris where the road had been churned up were UNSC marines in full green drab plate armour, unlike what the militia wore.

"That's the captain's squad down there!" Boone cried. "They're pretty thick in the shit! Let's help them out!"

The hornet came to a hover, overlooking the battle. I cradled the sniper rifle in my lap, expecting the pilot to bring us down and open up with the machine guns and the rockets. That did make sense. It was probably the best way to turn the tide of this battle... but we remained motionless. Nothing happened. I remained exposed to any fire that would happen to come my way, looking over the battle. Slowly I looked over my shoulder at the cockpit, then down at my sniper rifle.

"Oh, hell no!" I cried. "I'm not sniping again! Pilot, just take us down there and open up with those big guns!"

The pilot didn't answer. We remained stable in the air.

"Oh, for..." I didn't even finish my own sentence, letting go of my handhold and levelling my rifle.

Just like before, I angled my head behind the scope, taking a few calming breaths and trying to avoid the thought of how high up we were... but something unexpected happened.

We exploded.

There was no fire coming our way. I didn't even think the enemies down below knew we were up there. The turbine above where Boone was sitting burst, spitting flames and smoke. The whole vehicle shook and swooped. My stomach flipped as I almost keeled forward and out of my seat. Kicking hard I instinctively let go of my rifle, sending it tumbling to the street below and fumbled for the handholds. The hornet shook and swayed again, spinning out of control. The world blurred around me as I looked around desperately for something to secure myself onto. There was nothing I could do except hold on and ride it out.

"Thruster two is down! Mayday, mayday!" the pilot cried. "Hawk five-seven going down, seven clicks south east from RV alpha. Mayday, mayday!"

The nose dipped as the VTOL lost altitude. The sudden change of angle caused my boots to slip and I slid out of my seat.

"Oh, shitshitshit!" I cursed loudly, holding on with one hand, my grip on the single handhold the only thing keeping me from tumbling away.

"Hang on, kid!" Boone cried out.

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" I yelled back, reaching up with my other hand, trying to get another grip to support my weight.

Another sickening shake. The whole vehicle vibrated. My grip loosened and my sweaty fingers slipped over the stainless steel grip. My free hand snatched upward for the handhold, hoping to save me from falling, but I only grabbed air.

Spiralling through the air, the spinning hornet was fixed in my view as I fell away, everything else blurry and out of focus. Boone was still holding on tight as the pilot fought for control. My legs kicked somewhere below, on the edges of my gaze I could see my hands reaching out, hoping to snatch hold of something. I twisted through the air and looked down. The ground rushed up to greet me, my arms stretching out as if to break my fall. We connected and everything went black.

Pain coursed through every extremity of my body. My eyes fluttered open slowly and blurry shapes slowly focused... the world was on it's side. A tracer flashed by. A needler round glanced off the road beside my head. I rolled onto my back and looked up. soon I was looking up at the hornet as it plucked itself out of the air and pulled away, still belching smoke and fire, but still flying none the less.

Groaning painfully I rolled back onto my side and looked at the section of the road that had been churned up. I was looking past several dead marines and discarded weapons at the humans desperately holding off the invading covenant forces. Groaning again, I reached out, planted one hand in front of the other and crawled closer to where the marines were, the front of my armour grinding noisily over the rough asphalt. My head was spinning, and my forehead throbbed painfully.

My armour's medical system kicked into action. A display lit up, showing my skeletal structure. Red circles identified some major bruises, and a sprain in my wrist, but the bones lit up green, indicating there were no breaks. A red section on the armour overlaid pattern lit up where my suit had been breached and filled with bio-foam the other night.

The gel layer inside my armour had absorbed most of the impact from the fall. I must have fallen at least twenty meters though. It was a miracle nothing was broken. I was lucky, considering. Then again, I had been very lucky lately. I only hoped it hadn't run out.

The nearest marine ducked out of the line of several pulse rounds searing past his position and looked back, straight into my visor. I couldn't believe my eyes as he jumped forward and grabbed hold of me. In one heave the dark skinned man pulled me to my feet and helped me stumble weakly forward. My gaze was fixed, wide eyed on his face as he pushed me down again, propping me up against a piece of rubble.

"Token?" I shouted over the gunfire at the sergeant major. "But... you're... you're dead!" it was probably not a nice thing to say, but it was the truth. Token was dead. I watched him die.

"I got better, baby!" the sergeant major replied with a smile, that same cigar stub clenched between his teeth.

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

Token didn't say anything else on the matter. "Take this and watch our flank!" he yelled as he pushed his assault rifle into my arms and stood up beside another chunk of rubble, drawing a submachine gun. He was standing beside Captain Locks. The captain was using a Covenant needler, and was clad entirely in deck uniform. It wasn't intended for combat, but more for aesthetics. The deck uniform was grey and red, and looked neat and tidy, but provided absolutely no protection from enemy fire.

The captain wasn't very tall. He was significantly shorter than I was, and he was pretty wide... and by pretty wide I mean really fat. Unhealthily fat. This guy was completely out of shape. He had greying hair, the top of his head bald, pudgy cheeks, and two chins. And while I watched him work the needler trigger with those fat sausages that were supposed to be fingers, I couldn't help say out loud: "That is our last hope for survival?"

I wasn't going to waste any more time pondering how someone like that managed to become a captain, looking down at the MA5C. The sleek bullpup AR was fully loaded, the ammo counter glowing soft blue, readout on 32. I shouldered the weapon and raised it, aiming directly to my left through an opening in the buckled asphalt forming craggy cover around us. I was watching directly to the left flank.

I sighted a group of grunts. They waddled right into my line of fire. I squeezed the trigger halfway to the first pressure point, aiming carefully through the stubby iron sights on the top of the weapon. The rifle bucked lightly, sending an empty shell spinning over my right shoulder. The muzzle flickered for a second as a single round tore through the nearest grunt's head. The alien's skull split open, blood and bone bursting into the air and glittering in the sunlight like confetti. In the background I heard Token, who had seen the shot, let out a long 'Yaaaaaaay!' I still don't know why.

Pulling the trigger back all the way, I fired in short controlled bursts, the ammo counter dropping by three each time the rifle bucked in my arms. Each burst killed another grunt with a trio of armour piercing rounds through the chest or in the head. Their armour cracked open with ease, hissing clouds of cold gas and spitting fountains of fluorescent blood.

Finally the gun clicked and the bolt locked back. Raising the weapon I tugged out the magazine and looked into the empty well.

"I'm out!" I cried loudly, tossing away the empty mag.

"Last mag!" a nearby marine yelled, tugging a clip from his belt and tossing it to me. "Make 'em count!"

I caught the magazine, pushed it into the mag-well behind the MA5's grip and hit the bolt release catch. The weapon clicked and the ammo counter lit up 32 again.

Leaning forward, I rose to one knee and raised the weapon in both hands. The strength had returned to my limbs and my head wasn't throbbing so badly anymore. I was caught in a system again. Short controlled bursts. Left an enemy. Dead. Right an enemy. A burst later, dead. It seemed to go on like that forever. The shudder of the rifle in my hands became as familiar as my own heartbeat.

But it had to come to an end at some point.

A red tracer flickered out of my MA5C's muzzle. "Tracer!" I cried out, checking the ammo counter and seeing the dreaded 03 on a red background that was supposed to be cool blue. "Last three rounds!"

The Covenant were pushing on all sides now. Plasma and energy projectiles sizzled and hissed over our heads. A pulse round hit the concrete beside my head, showering me in dust and debris as I ducked away.

"I got nothing!" a marine behind me yelled. He dropped his rifle, pulled out his pistol and continued firing.

"Mag change!" another marine yelled changing pistol magazines.

"Here!" a marine yelled as I emptied my rifle into the jackal with the pulse rifle who'd fired at me. A moment later plasma from grunt pistol fire splashed into a chunk of debris in front of me. The marine handed me his last magazine and I slapped it in place.

There were five of us, all on our feet, back to back, muzzles pointed outward in all round defence. Two of us had assault rifles. Captain Locks was still using the enemy needler. Everyone else was down to pistols and last magazines.

That was when I heard the roar. The elite came out of nowhere, charging through the craggy chunks of debris, energy sword in one hand, face twisted into a war-face. Having said that, an elite's normal face was pretty war-face-esque. This elite was different from the ones I had seen today. He was clad entirely in blood red armour. It was a major, given his rank because of the amount of humans he'd killed. That was how elites ranked up. So this guy had killed many other guys just like me, and he wouldn't hesitate to end me.

"Energy sword!" Token yelled as the elite charged straight for me. "Scatter!"

The marines darted away as I held out the assault rifle to defend myself. I don't know what I was hoping to achieve by doing that, because when the sword came up, it sliced clean through the rifle's mid-section. As the blade sliced upward and as I felt the heat of it sear past my armour, I stumbled backwards, landing hard on my ass.

Dropping the two parts of the assault rifle, I drew my SMG and quickly scrambled backwards before leaping to my feet. Weapon in both hands, I backed away from the alien as he paused to roar at me. My M7S coughed, rounds impacting with the energy shields causing them to flare and falter. Arcs of light and energy travelled up and down the alien's body as I emptied the whole magazine into the alien. The personal force field fluttered and failed. My last two rounds tore into the fleshy, exposed mid-section of the elite. It pierced through the soft olive green under-suit and lodged in the bands of muscle somewhere inside. The elite hardly even noticed though, ignoring the trickle of blood pouring from the wounds, darting forward, swinging that blade of his.

As the blade came down, I darted forward, holstering the SMG and tugging my knife loose. The blade sizzled painfully close to my helmet as my knife came up. I slammed my shoulder into the alien and caused him to rock back. The elite keeled over and fell. Now he landed on his ass, then rocked backwards all the way, flat on his back. Grabbing hold of the thick wrist, my fingers hardly finding purchase on the thick muscles, I pushed with all my might, pinning the elite's sword down. Keeping my weight on the one point, holding the alien's weapon down, I raised my own knife, aiming for the throat. But the elite was faster.

He reached out with his other hand, grabbed me by the wrist and threw me like I weighed nothing more than a pillow. I left the ground, then hit the deck several meters away, rolling over a few times before coming to a halt on my back, my armour covered in mud where I landed in a brown puddle. My knife was gone, and the elite was on his feet again. I jumped up and watched the marine with an assault rifle move in, weapon barking off a trio of rounds. The bullets glanced off the alien's shoulder pad, and the elite swung his sword in a wide arc. The weapon sliced clean through the marine's gut and launched him backwards, assault rifle falling from his hands. As the marine landed against a chuck of upturned road and slid to the muddy ground, his rifle landed by my feet.

Two thunderclaps rang out as Token moved closer. His rounds fired from the pistol tore into the elite's torso, punching through the ceramic armour. The eight foot monstrosity didn't even feel it and grabbed Token by the throat. A second later his sword plunged into the sergeant major's gut. The man grunted, then went limp, dying in front of my eyes again as the elite pulled him off the blade and threw his corpse next to the other marine.

By this time I was knelt down, my hands on the assault rifle. I snapped it up as I stood again, reading 12 on the cool blue ammo counter. More than enough. The weapon barked in full automatic, shuddering in my hands. All twelve rounds hit the elite in the head, tossing his cracked helmet into the air with a fountain of foul smelling blood. It made me wonder. 'Why the hell couldn't the other marines shoot accurately like that?'

The elite slumped to the ground as I tossed the empty assault rifle aside, looking around. There wasn't any sign of the rest of the Covenant that had been swarming around us. Maybe they had seen their major go down and were running away. That would be lucky, but my luck had to be running out at this stage. It would only be a matter of time before the aliens rallied and pushed again.

I stood over the dead elite, catching my breath. "Yeah! Inform the next of kin, 'cause they're next!" I shouted in a shaky voice at the corpse, swinging my foot into the dead alien's side.

Any normal person would think a taunt to a dead enemy like that would have been more than adequate... Captain Locks disagreed, however.

As soon as I turned to reload my SMG and get ready to make like a banana and get the fuck out of there, Captain Locks ran up beside me, needler glowing and shouldered to fire.

"How d'you like me now?" the captain yelled, leaning over the dead elite and firing.

The needler shook in his hands and hummed out pink slivers of light. They thudded into the corpse, splashing blood across the cold stone. Now, for those of you who do not know, needlers are a bit of a recluse. The strangest weapon in the Covenant armoury, these spiky critters fire off pink shards of energy. On impact with organic matter, they turn into solid spikes, while they glance off hard surfaces. When they turn solid, they stick into enemies like a spike of glass, before exploding, like a HE round. However, the force of the explosion all depends on the quantity of spikes stuck in the target. Captain Locks had emptied an entire magazine into the elite's corpse.

The pink spikes solidified and glowed more vibrant. The static electricity breached my suit and made every hair on my body stand upright... or maybe that was just fear.

"Aww, nuts." I managed to mutter, staring into the light.

The explosion was the equivalent of a fragmentation grenade going off in our face. Pink light was all I could see. Heat washed over my body and I couldn't register up or down. I wasn't even sure if I was still on my feet. My head was spinning, my ears were ringing and my gut was tight.

We had won. There was a higher chance of the pelican coming in to find us and get us out of here. We were home free. But no. Locks had decided to doom us all by taunting an alien corpse with an explosive weapon! How stupid could someone be?

When the light finally faded, I found myself looking up at the sky, laying flat on my back. My vision was blurred. I was seeing two of everything. Which meant there was really only one elite standing over me.

The blue armoured alien's mandibles clicked as it snarled down at me. I lifted one of its split toed boots, then brought it heavily down on my visor. The impact nearly crushed my helmet. Everything went black, and sound faded in my ears. The last thing I heard was a deep, gruff growling, then the Covenant/English translator speaking in my ear.

"Bring the survivors to the ship."

My luck had finally run out... shit.