M6: Battle for Refuge (Ground)

[MrKill]

Admiral Eric Sierra Klix
UNSCS Iowa
Marathon II Super Heavy Guided Missile Cruiser

"Status?" Eric asked calmly as the Covenant ship on the holographic display vanished - a good shot by the UNSC navy. It was a scary moment, actually. The Iowa had an extremely close exit vicinity to the hostile vessel, missing the Frigates debris a mere seven hundred meters after exiting slip-space. A bit too close, as far as naval terms go, even if the frigate was floating pieces.

"Successful slip-steam transition. We are roughly five hundred thousand kilometers from Admiral Vardy's flagship, sir." The engineering officer replied. Klix had personally marked Vardy's vessel as the rough exit point and was to be immediately tracked for a general location. Klix was operating alone this time, without his fleet. His Marathon II was more of a support role anyways, and was not equipped to engage in space combat. Most of this SHIVA holding bays were replaced with SPARTAN deployment zones, a specific team called GOLD Team would be dedicated those areas once they arrived on the ship, if they arrived on the ship.

"Plot a course towards Vardy, Navigation." Eric ordered before sitting down at his personal chair, the 'command chair' - or 'the chair with the weight of a world'. It wasn't easy, being the man who lead the team responsible for every single soul aboard the vessel the Admiral commanded, but someone had to do it and unfortunately for Eric, that man was him - and he had to admit he almost liked it... Almost.

"Aye-aye, sir!" The NAV officer replied. Moments later the Iowa shifted and a new plot appeared on the holotable now meters away from the Admiral. The green line plotted a course where the Iowa came alongside the Kilimanjaro and turned to station keeping to remain - from there they'd deploy the two thousand eager Marines on board, lead by Colonel Killinger, and the rest of his regiment spread across the rest of the ships - the Seventh Marines.

-- Sometime later --

"Are you sure?" The Admiral asked, referencing his offers reports... at the latest reports. Communications from pilots deploying were simply ceasing as they entered a specific section of the city, almost like some form of EMP effect. Eric signed and watched as half a dozen green blimps disappeared every second. They mass deployed the Marine forces, which meant hundreds of Marines were literally falling to their deaths. HEV pods were more than likely able to survive the impact, but the Pelican and Albatross dropships wouldn't glide very well.

"Confirming, sir. No units within this rough area are responding to calls." The communications officer replied, and a small square appeared on the map - the rough locations of where the radio signals were ceasing. The dome was labelled 'Area of EMP' and slammed with overlays of various red and black colors to indicate a potential EMP.

"It's strange, sir. I can't detect any electromagnetic pulses originating from the surface, but my signals are reaching the surface fine according to my diagnostics. I can reach a ground side radio, but the radio its-self isn't registering my signal. It's almost like it is a localized EMP field, continuous my the looks of it." The second communications offer said, a first rate officer - Eric had to convince a Fleet Admiral to let him keep, winning the argument... barely. The Fleet Admiral agreed they needed the first rate officers out in combat, not on a Orbital Defense Platform.

The square quickly morphed into a rough semi circle from the ground up, a dome in other words. Eric looked puzzled. He had never heard of such abilities before, expect the Covenant 'spire' technology which masked deployment zones - but they were able to see them from orbit... this was undetectable and it didn't help that the sunlight was still shining on the city. To get conclusive evidence, they'd have to wait until night at that specific city.

"Stop any further deployments until we know what we are dealing with," Eric said. "Open a channel to Vardy, comms."

It only took a moment before the channel was open. Eric didn't even give time for his comms officer to inform him, he just spoke. "Klix to Vardy, I'm sending you some priority information on all the pelicans you're no doubt watching disappear from tactical and holographic displays. I suggest stopping the rapid deployment of Marine forces until we know what that is... information sent."

[David]

Admiral David Vardy
Bridge - UNSC KILLIMANJARO
Deep in thought about Mysterious Bubble.

As David watched the deployment of the Pelicans and Pods, He noticed they dissapeared over a rough area, like a bubble was just swallowing them up. He had his OPS officer isolate the cause. Seemed it was a giant EMP Bubble, but the source was unknown... or un-readable. The computer refused to spit out an accurate analysis. 

"Any response to our hails?" David asked Kim.

"Negative. Comms are up on our side..." Kim responded, worry tinging his voice.

"Understood." David said, pacing back and forth.

"Admiral!" Kim blurted, Fingers flying over the console. "Priority Message from Admiral Klix!"

"Pipe it through." David said, taking his seat.

Suddenly the speaker crackled to life and Klix's voice filtered through, static occasionally popping.

"Klix to Vardy, I'm sending you some priority information on all the pelicans you're no doubt watching disappear from tactical and holographic displays. I suggest stopping the rapid deployment of Marine forces until we know what that is... information sent."



"Acknowledged Admiral. We're forwarding our information to your A.I now. Reccomend keeping information link open to see if we can crack this information. Vardy out."

Nodding to close the channel, David then looked to Lambert. "You heard me. Keep your info open and available."

Nodding, Lamberts Hologram faded out.

Looking back to the viewscreen, David pursed his lips and steepled his fingers, trying to discern the mystery that the mystery bubble held.

[Wax™]

2nd Lt. Justin Jenkins / SSgt. Jason Bowers
Seventh Marines; Delta One-Actual/One
Re-grouping with supposed friendlies

Jason looked at the Lieutenant and then to the three marines and army ranger and then back to the Lieutenant, everyone aside from Jason had began dusting themselves off and looking around in the awkward silence, well awkward other than extremely distant gun shots, explosions and various loud noises, Jason nodded and looked to the Lieutenant who was young, younger than Jason. The Lieutenant looked a little lost so Jason decided to speak up.

"Let's head to the roof of this structure, hopefully we will find the person that shot that flare." Jason suggested and as he did it began to drip from the sky, it was starting to rain, Jason sighed, this would make the already shit combat conditions even shitter. The others had yet to say anything, including the Lieutenant, Justin gave him a somewhat encouraging look to motivate him in directing the men around him, who were technically HIS troops aside from the army ranger.

"Yes... Agreed, lead on Sergeant." The Lieutenant said, somewhat sketchy, it was obvious he was wounded in some sort of fashion, he was leaning more on his left leg than he was on his right, so perhaps he sprained or broke something.

Jason nodded and made his way to the structure, taking point, the next person behind him was the army Ranger, then the Lieutenant then his three marines, the left a one meter gap between themselves as they followed Jason into the house, Jason had his MA37 assault rifle raised. As he made his way through the house he noticed a pool of blood at the door to the basement, not exactly a good sign but Covenant weren't much for leaving huge pools of blood, so Jason tried to shift it to the back of his mind, however it kept him very alert.

Jason, still on point soon found himself at the entrance to the roof, slowly gaining access to the roof he scanned the area MA37 first, making sure it was clear, happy that it was he lowered his weapon and and stepped fully onto the roof, walking toward a marine looking figure he had spotted as he was scanning the roof, once he was close enough it was easy to distinguish who the man was, taking a knee he gave the man a respectful nod, not saluting as the enemy could be watching.

"Colonel Sir..." He said as he nodded. " Bowers and what I have managed to gather of Delta reporting in and ready for orders." He said looking at the man with an expression of pure readiness. As a seasoned marine, the Colonel would be able to tell that Jason wanted nothing more than to get in the fight and of course re-group with the rest of his men.

"Colonel Killinger Sir." Justin also added, also giving the Colonel a nod.

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon B'Sheau Killinger
Seventh Marines
Hope; Refuge

John stood quietly, the binoculars he'd been glued to for the past ten minutes hanged limply by his chest, swaying slightly in the soft breeze. The Veteran Marine sighed as a darker cloud started to roll in, and with it the soft beginning of what appeared to be a rain storm. Perhaps, just maybe, it was the famous five minute shows Refuge was famous for... or maybe it wasn't Refuge, but some other city with a similar name. It didn't matter to John, but the soft - clear liquid wetting his face was coming down quicker and quicker.

Eventually, within a matter of mere minutes, the light spit and turned into a light rain. It was light, very light, but continuous. John watched as the cloud snapped lightning, but it was a almost a mile away and the bolt seemed to disappear into the night rather than strike something. The Marine realized that his assumption had been correct, that the EMP field was continuous. It would explain why his back up radio, which was turned off and not in use during the initial EMP blast, was also dead.

He stood there, quietly thinking as the rain splattered and bounced off his heavy set of armor and helmet, which he ended up taking off seconds later to allow the water to hit his bald head. He knew it was a risk but he was reasonably satisfied that the area had no snipers around, and even if it did the helmet wasn't going to do anything anyways. He reached into his BDU's leg pockets and produced a Boonie hat and a pair of sunglasses - the sunglasses for the lowering sun that was about to be staring him down as sunset approached.

"Colonel, sir..." Someone said. John turned around and saw the Marines that had regrouped now on the roof, which was a pleasant surprise. He didn't even hear them come up, which means they knew how to stay quiet. This specific marine, however, was Bowers. "Bowers and what I have managed to gather of Delta reporting in and ready for orders."

Second Lieutenant Jenkins also introduced himself and nodded, but John found himself internally smiling that the youngster was alive. He'd never forgive himself if Jenkins had died, especially after his friend - the kids father - had died the way he did. He promised to himself he wouldn't let that fate fall on the young mans soul.

"Seven men can't do anything in a situation like this," Killinger replied to the Staff Sergeant. "But we need to keep the perimeter secure so people still have a place to regroup at. I want a tight perimeter set up down below; Four sentries walking around the house for now, while the rest provide some support from up here. Be careful, keep your eyes peeling. Covenant troops have been spotting in the AO."

The three Marines and Army Ranger that came with the Staff Sergeant and First Lieutenant immediately climbed down the roof and within a moment were outside, patrolling the house. John knew that Bowers and Jenkins were free to make their own decisions at this point, so if one or both of them wanted to go down they'd just send someone up here to replace them - it wasn't difficult.

"We've got another Army unit moving towards us, probably roughly twenty minutes away considering they are foot mobile, but I counted seven of them. Once they arrive, and maybe others, we'll take the building under construction over there as the command post." Killinger said, pointing towards the open field at the building he'd examined thoroughly from this distance.

"Okay... let's dig in for now though, twenty minutes might be to long. I don't know how many Covenant units are around right now."

[Armory]

Sergeant Johnathan Miller

Physical/Vehicle Status: Heartbeat levels show signs of nervousness, but otherwise fine/ Tank is combat ineffective, moving out on foot

Emotional Status: Shaken up, but otherwise fine emotionally

Time Zone: 10:45 Hours Refuge Planetary Time

Location: Apartment District, Refuge Colony

Current Mission: Regroup with main military force/Protect civilians along the way

Miller sat next to the scorpion tank he had just knocked on before pausing and turning to Ingram. “I’m going to take a look inside….” He said slightly trailing off at the end before climbing up on the tank. The dark green body of the tank was chipped and dented heavily from the impact with the building that had left in this condition. The tanker looked over it in silence before moving over to the drivers hatch. The hatch had seemed to take damage in the crash as it was open ajar.

Miller was silent as he crouched down and slid the hatch open revealing the driver. The driver didn’t seemed to be moving at first, but soon Miller noticed the man’s slow and shallow breaths as his chest fought to get air into his lungs. The gunner however wasn’t so lucky. The idiot hadn’t been wearing his helmet on impact and had cracked his skull open on hard impact. The sight of the blood and dead body in the tank made the greenhorn Miller’s head spin as he turned to Ingram.

“We have someone alive in here” He shouted out to his gunner before starting to remove the driver.

The man was barely alive at best and seemed to have a long gash across his thigh due to metal from the drop ship impaling itself into the scorpion. Miller pulled the man out of the driver’s area of the tank before slowly maneuvering him over the body of the tank and onto the ground. The sound of bootfalls was heard as Ingram jogged up beside John and crouched down next to the Sergeant.

“You think he’ll survive…..” Ingram said in a grim tone before looking down at the fellow tanker.

Miller paused a moment before nodding and started to look around for the Albatrosses medical kit. He needed the supplies for a tourniquet to stop the bleeding until they could get him to a Corpsman. Sure enough John found the medical kit in its usual position strapped to a wall of the wrecked craft. He quickly removed it and took it over to the downed tanker to proceed with making the tourniquet. Upon opening the box he proceeded to take out the few braces inside and the gauss and coverings to help cut off and soak up the blood loss. John moved quickly with Ingram’s help to place the braces and tie the coverings tightly to make sure the makeshift tourniquet would hold. With that they sat the man up and proceed to try and wake him. The man gave a grunt as he was pulled from his inky black slumber to two of his fellow tankers looking down at him in silence.

“Where….where am I?” The tanker groaned as he looked up at Miller and Ingram

“Easy there Corporal…” Miller said having to take a look at the man’s rank insignia to address him as he helped the tanker sit up straight.

The man seemed to be dazed and confused, two things that were never a good sign on impact as they were telltale signs of a concussion. 

“You’re in the Apartment District of the Refuge colony.” John said calmly as he pulled up his canteen for the tanker to take a sip. The Corporal seemed to look at them dazed for a bit before nodding as if the events were coming back to him.

“Sir, were is my gunner Sir…..?” The tanker asked looking at John before a long silence hung over the crash site.

Miller was silent as he looked at Ingram before looking at the tanker and shook his head, “He didn’t make it Corporal.”

The sergeant said as he watched the Corporal freeze up, the man’s chest gave a heave like he was trying to cover up his emotions before Miller put a gloved hand on his shoulder and gave a small squeeze to show he was there for the Corporal. He stomach still felt like it was doing flips after the carnage inside the tank and it felt like he wanted to puke and after excusing himself outside the craft his breakfast came up accordingly. It was right about then he saw the flare go up. It was a brilliant green color and it came up like the light of a thousand suns before dying off in the smoke filled sky.

“Ingram get the Corporal ready to move now! I just found our RZ point!” John barked before taking the safety off his carbine.

Soon enough with the tank crews baggage all picked together they started out, will Miller of all people carrying the distressed Corporal. The man’s weight matched with his puking incident made John somewhat dizzy as he lugged the Corporal through the destroyed street with Ingram vigilantly providing cover. The city was surprisingly intact for what had happened to it, with these buildings rising up all around him it made the marine feel like a man among giants.

“Damn this place is like a fucking maze” John could hear Ingram muttered as they walked through the side streets of the city.

The Corporal hadn’t made as much as a sound on the trip and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. Miller’s worst fear is that they’d get to a corpsman to late, something he wasn’t about to let happen. Miller increased his pace to a steady jog as they moved through the winding streets. The place looked almost like a ghost town, shops and stores were empty with shopping charts still in the positions they had been left in during the evacuation. It was almost unsettling to see. Miller made his way over to a main street crossing before scanning over a couple apartment buildings with his eyes. With that he found the one the fare had originated from and gave Ingram the signal that that building was the one. However just as Ingram was about to step out Miller grabbed his collar with a free hand pulling him back into the alley before pointing across the street two blue armored ape like creatures positioned across the street.

“What’s the order Sergeant” Ingram grunted quietly as Miller scanned to see if there was any more of them.

“We can’t take them head on in any condition…” Miller said thinking before slowly pushing open the alley gate “On my signal move across, and get the lead out. Signal me to come across when they shift their position again.”

Ingram nodded before after a moment of silence Miller gave the signal as the brutes shifted to rummage through a store nearby sending Ingram bolting across the street. Miller waited for a bit and when the brutes didn't come right back out of the store Ingram gave the signal. Miller was off like a shot, his legs aching under the weight of the Corporal, the corporal’s gar and his gear as he pulled full sprint across the street. By the time he reached the other side he could feel his heart pounding inside his chest as he let out a shallow breath before continuing on. With Brutes on the prowl you couldn’t just stay in the same position.

Miller moved quickly now through the side streets, stopping every now and then to check on the wounded Corporal before starting back on his jog to safety at the RZ. The air around him still seemed to hang with the smell of gasoline and smoke from the crashes located around the city. Miller had jogged past some of these crash sites. Most of the survivors had already packed up and left in most crashes while the dead still remained behind to tell a grisly tale. John forced himself forward as he continued to jog onwards towards the apartment complex in silence.

John however had his mind preoccupied by thoughts of what had happened to the drop and what made the drop fail. Whatever the EMP source was it was powerful enough to take whole areas of a large city offline. This was not something to be dealt lightly with, even John knew that. The tanker moved through the rubble of the city before stopping to change out the bandaging for the tourniquet. The Corporal groaned as the bandages were removed and gave a tired groan of pain when Miller applied the disinfectant.

John looked at the Corporal before speaking “So what’s your name Corporal?” He said trying to keep the Corporal’s mind off his wound and the death of his crewmember.

“Richard Mendoza Sir” The tanker grunted as Miller started to apply the new covering to the wound.

“Were you from Richard?” Miller asked as he gave a quick tug of the bandage to tighten in before starting to make up the tourniquet once more.

“Mars Sir, one of the smaller cities there to be exact….” The Corporal said as he winced in pain when John tightened the bandage.

John nodded silently before adding the finishing tie of the bandage before helping the Corporal to a standing position “You think you can walk with my help Corporal?”

The tanker nodded as they moved forwards towards the apartment building. John looked around at the surrounding buildings before motioning them down a side path in the direction of the RZ. The day had gone to shit in a tactical standpoint. With the EMP wave hitting the marines coming down they were scattered all across the city and not only that, but they were running around blind too. However John couldn’t linger on the thought long as he was forced to continue on helping brace the Corporal to prevent him from falling.

It was quite some time before they reached what was the RZ point before the tankers moved inside. The apartment building seemed empty, with the place seemingly like the many other buildings around it. Miller glanced around the building in silence before motioning Ingram to follow him up the stair well. The stair well was deathly quiet as they entered and was soon filled with the sounds of their boot falls as they climbed the twisting steps upwards and into the upper floors of the building. The upper floor was quiet as they stepped onto the floor were the flare had gone up before Miller nodded Ingram to move ahead with his carbine drawn with the simple knowledge of now was not the time to get ambushed. Then Miller heard voices coming from the door to the rooftop ahead. Their tones were muffled and Miller could only make out bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Seven men can't do anything in a situation like this," "But we need to keep the perimeter secure so people still have a place to regroup at. I want a tight perimeter set up down below; Four sentries walking around the house for now, while the rest provide some support from up here. Be careful, keep your eyes peeling. Covenant troops have been spotting in the AO."

Miller looked to Ingram before nodding for his gunner to take the Corporal, he was going to breach. Miller moved over to the door quietly eyeing the hand for a second before giving a slow count to three inside his head. With that he raised his boot up and brought it crashing in on the door sent the door flying open. Miller pulled his gun to the ready and barked in his best room clearing voice “Let me see your hands!!!!” Miller gave a sort of relieved chuckle when he finally made visual confirmation with the men on the rooftop. “Ingram we have friendlies.” He called to his gunner as Ingram brought the injured Corporal out onto the rooftop. John looked around before lowering his weapon, they had made it to the RZ and boy did it feel good to be safe for once. "Sorry about that Sir, didn't want to take any chances" He said making a short nod of respect over to the Colonel and the other two men he identified before settling in to listen to what happened next.

[HollowSaber]

: Corporal Jake Furrow :

: Refuge, Covenant Controlled Territory :

: Nova Squad:

    It took nearly five minutes before Jake was able to get a hold of himself. The sight of a Forerunner structure in the middle of a Covenant force was something he had not expected, and something the other UNSC most likely needed to know about. If they knew it was Forerunner, then the battle plan would be able to change. Most likely, there would be a bit more of a rush to get to the object. Or, if there was no extra rush, there at least would be a larger mobilization of reinforcement forces. Intelligence was key to the severity of an attack, and with Forerunner on the checklist, the higher ups would most likely push for more trooper and support. For Jake that meant he’d be able to slip around more often because of his allies pulling more Covenant away from the actual structure.

    The only problem was that Jake couldn’t get the word out. There was no form of radio communication he could use aside from short-range, and as he glanced briefly to his right and left, there were no friendly forces in sight on the ground. That was expected though. Jake was nearly right on top of the Covenant army and the building he was in was only a third of a mile away, maybe even closer. To tell the truth, Jake was probably the only UNSC soldier within a half mile of the Covenant force. It was a scary thought, being so alone, but Jake didn’t feel out of place. Not one bit. He had done this kind of thing countless times before even when the Covenant had radar. Without that, he was a ghost, and that was fine with him.

    Leaning back into his scope, Jake tilted his rifle and scanned the Covenant forces slowly. He pulled the little sheet of paper he was taking notes on closer and wrote out a tag; “Covenant Force”. With that, he listed each of the different types of soldiers he saw; Elite Gold, Elite Silver, Elite Red, Elite Blue, Jackal Gold, Jackal Red, Jackal Blue, Brute Chief, Brute Gold, Brute Red, Brute Yellow, Grunt Yellow, Grunt Red, and finally Freaky Jackal Thing. The FJT Jake remembered being called Skirmishers by someone, but he didn’t exactly believe them to much. FJT was a much better name and easier for him to remember. With the different types written down, Jake began a tally beside each of them. Every time he saw a specific type of Covenant, he tagged them and slapped a dash down on the paper.

    Slowly and steadily, Jake painstakingly counted as many Covenant soldiers as he possibly could. He didn’t note their movements or their weapons, only their numbers. For now, that’s all he had to worry about. The weapons and movements would come into effect once he started to pull together his plan. With knowledge that the EMP Source was Forerunner, Jake knew he’d have a harder time getting to it. He also knew he’d have a harder time getting rid of it, or at least getting it out of Covenant hands. Due to the place being a city though, there was almost always a way to move something large. Jake simply had to be smart about it, and he would have to be quick. And yet… Jake still grinned.

    The ODST was in heaven. He did what he loved and was on the verge of pissing off nearly every Covenant soldier in a six mile radius. Knowing that fact made Jake drool. He enjoyed toying with the enemy, he enjoyed making them feel confused or out of place, and most of all he enjoyed making them angry. The Forerunner were holy to the Covenant and Jake was quite willing to trample all over those beliefs as long as he didn’t actually break anything too badly. He understood that the Covenant Army was only doing its job, but the tenacity of some of its members was sickening. Payback was necessary, and Jake had the perfect way of doing so right in front of his face. It would be his best feat yet if he did everything correctly.

    The Trooper pushed the tally he created to the side, satisfied with taking notes on the core number of Covenant closest to the artifact, and then pulled his maps close to him. Jake moved back from the window slightly and adjusted his rifle so it wasn’t sticking out towards the glass. From his backwards position, he set the five maps he had all around each other. With his main terrain map, the Trooper was able to pinpoint his location on each of the maps followed by the location of the main Covenant force. Then, in the middle of the large Covenant circle, he circled the Forerunner artifact. From the looks of it, the Artifact was a central path of trees which connected the South-Western side of the city to the Mid North-Eastern. Just beyond the North-Eastern exit was the river. However, there were several buildings in the way there. Perfect.

    The only downside was that the UNSC forces were scattered more to the South-West than the North-East, so Jake would have to go backwards rather than forwards if he wanted everything to work out. Further more, the Covenant were most likely moving more troops to the South to counter the UNSC landing. That would cause even more of an issue. Without any contact with his own allies, if Jake went North his best bet would be to get the artifact into a boat or something and float south. If he went straight south, there was a high chance of enemy contact.

    If that issue wasn’t enough, there was also the problem of defending the artifact once he was out of Covenant territory. The Artifact was most likely glorified by the Covenant and he would be hunted down by a strike team, much like the UNSC would send SPARTANs. If he took the relic, Jake would have to keep it mobile. The river would provide that mobility, but Jake would be all alone out there again so it would be a tough call. Even if he got it out there, Jake knew full well the probability of getting a boat was extremely low. Maybe he should just dump it in the water and leave it. That was surprisingly a viable option.

    Somehow, if the Trooper navigated and was able to reach the river, he could maneuver it and get it into the water. Using the water, he could float it or at least roll it out and get it away from the Covenant hands for a short while. If it worked, it would give more time for the UNSC to mobilize and it could potentially knock out the EMP bubble due to water absorbing the electricity. It could work and had the possibility of doing so, but getting the artifact to the river was another issue all on its own.

    Without thinking about the eighty percent chance of failure due to transportation issues and the likelihood of the water not working with him, Jake had to worry about support and the Covenant. If he was able to successfully take the Artifact, he’d need to do so in something fast enough to outrun the Covenant forces. It would have to be armored and work of no electricity. These days, that was rare but it was feasible. There were plenty of vehicles Jake could think of that could move the artifact, but he would have to get them. Getting them was another story. If he did indeed secure one, then he would have to be able to get to his destination swiftly and without error. It would also need to fit through everything.

    “Wait a minute…” Jake glanced up towards the artifact and pulled the scope off his rifle. Leveling it, the Trooper evaluated the size of the Forerunner structure. It was about a quarter the size of a car and was still dug in the ground, which meant it was about the size of half a car, not a quarter. Knowing the Forerunner, it most likely weighed more than it looked too. So Jake would need something powerful, fast, and small. Fail.

    Although there was one thing that could do the job. It wouldn’t be big, and it wouldn’t be too heavily armored, but it would get that artifact out in a hurry if he was able to find it. If Jake could get the artifact into the vehicle and get moving right away, he’d be out before the Covenant could get him. That was exactly what he needed to raise the chance of success. As he looked down at the maps at his knees, Jake realized that he was in good shape for the most part. Many of the maps ran alongside or near the artifact, but one of them had something he wanted. One line would provide Jake with enough room and proximity to the device to get it and get moving right away. It would also cause the Covenant issues with finding where he went. However, he’d have to run blind for a while as the map didn’t cover the whole city. That was quite alright with him. As long as Jake could get the device, he didn’t care where he went. He just had to get away from the aliens.

    Jake nodded to himself and went to work. He began to mark the different maps, writing notes beside each of the marks as to keep himself on task and to keep his mental imagery in the right place. Alignment and symmetry was key here, and one mistake would leave Jake with nothing but concrete and pissed of Elites.

    “Wait… what happens if I fail?” Jake sat up and scratched at his helmet.

    “Oh boy…”

[Frazer]

Captain Frazer York
UNSCS Preston
Virtue Class Attack Carrier
Couple of hours out of the Planet Hope

"Crap, that hurts." Frazer said to the ships medical officer.

"Sorry Cap but its gotta be done. You know regulations." Frazer smiled as the Med officer took blood from him. The doctor cleaned his arm and then moved over to his desk. Frazer climbed off the bed and stood up over the Doctor. 

"Is that everything Doc?"

"Yes sir, ill let you know the results soon. Now haven't you got a ship to run?" Frazer smiled and turned around, walking out of the door and heading straight to the bridge. It took Frazer a while to reach the bridge as the Preston was so long in length. 

"Captain on the bridge." All the bridge officers stood up as Frazer walked on. He nodded for them to carry on. The crew sat back down. Frazer walked over to the holo table, grasping his Captains chair and sit firmly on it. 

"Tiffany report." Frazer said to his A.I as she came up on the pedestal by the holo table. 

"We are currently a couple of hours away from the target planet sir. We should come straight out of slip space with the rest of the fleet."

"Excellent keep me updated. Ohh and Trayner, make sure we look cool for the rest of the fleet to see when we come out of slipspace." Trayner laughed and nodded. "Wilson any further updates from Admiral Vardy?" Wilson swung round.

"Just now sir. Would you like it bridge speakers?" Frazer nodded. The speakers came to life.

"This is Admiral David Vardy." The Admiral began. "In two hours we will be dropping out of Slipspace into the system. We don't have an accurate number of ships, so we will have to play this one by ear. Intel is sparse, since ONI hasn't had time to scramble any ships to scout out the region for us, so we will have to manage. I'm sending your AI's a plan for all contingencies." Another pause. "I know this is far from ideal intel, but we've gone in with much worse. I know each of you will do your best. Vardy out."

"Thats it sir." Wilson spoke whilst Tony turned to face Frazer.

"Well that's no intel at all." Tony, the Preston's XO, spoke up. 

"Tony don't be so scared over nothing. We have entire fleet with us, what could possibly go wrong?" Frazer said chuckling. "Anyway lets get comfortable. We still have a couple of hours left. Tiffany do what you can with the contingencies plan from Kilimanjaro's A.I." Frazer sat back in his chair and drunk a newly made cup of coffee. 

Coupe of hours later

In the after math of the destruction of the covenant ship over hope, the Preston fell back in with the rest of the fleet. The loss of one frigate may have seemed insignificant in the small run, but in the long term, it was a devastating blow that could have major repercussions on the war effort.
Frazer stood up from his chair and walked over to his holo table. "Tiffany report!" 

"We are fine sir. No damage to the ship, wish I could say the same for our boys down there. With this EMP in effect around the city its hard to say how well they will do down there. Weird thing is, its not an EMP. No my sensors are not wrong. Something I can't seem to make it is down there causing this EMP effect around a part of the city known as Refuge." Tiffany sighed, she didn't like not knowing things.

"Interesting. Well we will let the ground forces deal with that, we could have a potential Covenant fleet inbound. Wilson get me a line with Admiral Vardy. We need some further orders." Wilson nodded. "Trayner keep us in line with the fleet. Blackpool make sure your ready for charging the MACs back up. Ohh and Tiff, keep me updated on the happenings down below." 

"Aye sir." Wilson swung back around to face Frazer.

"Got you a broadcast line Cap."

"Thank you." Frazer walked over to the communications console. He did this same walk some many times. Frazer pressed the button to speak. "Admiral Vardy, this is Captain Frazer York of the UNSCS Preston. We have no damage to our ship and we are 100% combat ready. What is our orders? York out." Frazer released the button and walked back over to the Captains chair, awaiting the response. 

[NinjaBoss]

Major Domo Zahn 'Vignarlee
Nearby scattered army unit in eastern outskirts of Covenant Zone

Zahn took a deep breath, scavenging the rest of the weapons and ammunition the nishum had. Oh how it angered him to have to use their weapons, which were nearly as barbaric as the the ones the Jiralhanae used. Why was it this shockwave had only disabled the holy weapons? And what had caused it? He wished he could find out, but the battlenet was turned off and thus he would just have to make do with what he already had. Their search had only come up with more ammunition for the weapons they already had, and a few more of their automatic rifles and pistols. He tossed the weapons to the Unggoy to carry, and turned to speak to his lance.

"Unggoy, carry those weapons with us. We are heading back to the artifact excavation site. We will bring them the weapons of the human filth, and figure out what is causing this.... lack of all technology." He said, and began moving back towards the artifact excavation area.

They walked for nearly fifteen rooks, and headed further into the Covenant zone, when finally they had reached the excavation area. He strode into the center of camp, turning to the Unggoy.

"Set those weapons down. I'm going to find somebody who can give me accurate information." He then strode into the camp, searching for someone of higher rank, even an ultra.

Unggoy Ultra Zaxax
Near the outskirts of Covenant zone

Zaxax strode forwards purposely, Nadad, Tapap, and Salal in single file line behind him. Sticking his nose into the air and inhaling, he caught the scent of the humans once again. The Sangheili had gone into the building and were searching the floor below them. They had caught sight of a small group of the humans, and since then they had been on a hunt for them. They were sneakier than they looked however, forcing Zaxax and the Sangheili to search for them for nearly an entire unit. Zaxax was jerked from his thoughts by a sudden scuffle however, and he pointed his needler directly in front of him, ready to fire.

"Zaxax, I heard them! They're close!" Salal squeaked, and Zaxax silenced him with a glare.

"We must be quiet, else they'll hear us." Zaxax whispered back, and a sense of purpose washed over their faces, even if it was merely being quiet for a few ticks.

Stepping forwards as quietly as they could, Zaxax shot a look in each room before continuing, careful not to be taken off guard. He had been shot more than a few times by the nishum's filthy weapons, he had no intention of it happening again, nor to any of his lancemates. Suddenly Zaxax froze, and took a cautious whiff of the air. In the doorway to his right, they were hiding, at least if his sense of smell knew anything. And Unggoy were known for their sense of smell. He slowly paced inside of the room, wrinkling his nose at the stink of the humans. Suddenly it stuck its head out, and pointed a pistol at the Unggoy. Unfortunately for the human however, they were faster. Even with the tracking systems disabled there was no way the Unggoy could miss at this close of range, and the human let out a yelp of pain before the many needles imbedded in it explode, sending flesh and blood all over the Unggoy.

"Ewwwy...... this stuff stinks!" Tapap said, wiping some of it off of him.

"Yeah, well at least we have something to tell the Sangheili about." Zaxax said, before freezing once again at the more than intimidating sounds coming from the floor below them.

Private Moe Keating
Near bank of river

Moe kept his head down, even though doing so was mostly unnecessary. He wasn't taking any chances however, and stuck his gun over the useless vehicle he was using as cover, firing blindly. He heard a couple of yelps from the Grunts and a Jackal, which meant he at least hit one of them, or so he hoped. When there was no return fire, he took the chance to stick his head out of cover, carefully looking down his sights at the now enraged Elite, rapidly approaching him. The Elite raised an arm, throwing something at Moe. Letting loose another burst from his rifle, he dived away, forcing the burst to go wide. He grunted in slight pain as he landed on hard concrete, and raised his rifle again. The Elite ran towards him, attempting to pin him down. As he leaped on top of Moe, he fired another burst point blank into the alien's face, throwing it backwards off of him. However his clip was now spent and the Grunts and Jackals were now coming towards him. He dropped the spent clip, but seen the approaching enemies before he had a chance to slap another inside.

Retrieving his M6G pistol, he fired four shots, each finding their mark in the enemy. The last of the Grunts fell, but the Jackals were nowhere to be found. He slowly stood, his pistol pointed forwards in front of him, and he saw the Jackal carrying it's ally whom he must have hit when firing blindly over the car. The Jackal was running in the other direction, attempting to save itself and its friend. Moe quickly slapped his pistol in it's holster, then retrieved his MA5K, slapping in another magazine. He ran towards the car, sliding over the hood and following the Jackals, careful to stay far enough behind they couldn't see him. Maybe they'd lead him somewhere useful, and he had to find his fireteam. With communications disabled it seemed like an impossible task, but Moe knew that if he persisted he would prevail.

[David]

Admiral David Vardy
Bridge - UNSC KILLIMANJARO
Still mystified.

"Admiral" Kim piped up. "Captain Frazer of the Preston on COM for you."

Nodding, David leaned back in his chair. "Put it through." and waited as the COM squawked once and then Frazer's voice came over the speakers.

"Admiral Vardy, this is Captain Frazer York of the UNSCS Preston. We have no damage to our ship and we are 100% combat ready. What is our orders? York out."



Smiling, David grabbed his PAD. Frazer was a damned fine Captain and a hard worker. He was a valuable asset to any situation and David was glad to have him along in the fleet. He then motioned for Kim to open a line back to the Preston.

"Captain, My compliments on a safe journey. I need your help discerning this EMP Bubble we have going on. Bit of a mystery truth be told. Have your AI Link in with mine and Admiral Klix's. Im sure we can make heads or tails with three AI's crunching numbers. Vardy out."

Closing the channel, David then decided to grab a coffee before coming back to the issue. Never hurt to have a break and then come back.

[Buzzkill]

Lieutenant “Buzzkill” Adams
Airspace over Refuge City
Pelican CL-2512-T3

Whistling at the controls, Lieutenant Adams briskly guided the Pelican down to the surface. This was an easy mission by his standards. They seemed to outnumber, or at least match the covenant power. Granted the Covenant could send more ships in at any time, but for the moment the didn’t have any and Adams didn’t suspect any were on the way.

There was a light pitter patter of raindrops on the cockpit, but it was hardly audible over the light rumblings of compartments shaking as the dropship ran through turbulence.

Though it was raining and a bit cold, they kept the back hatch open. Switch, the crew chief, was manning the small machine gun turret mounted to the back, though he had nothing really to shoot at. It was more just precautionary. Two squads of marines sat uncomfortably in their seats as the dropship came down. They all knew they were destined to see some serious combat, and were not overly anxious to meet it.

”Easy drop, Seaweed.” Adams said to his co-pilot, referring to him by his nickname.

“For now.” Seaweed responded, in his usual bitterness. He was always the pessimist of them.

”Relax, this one’ll probably be the best mission this month.” Adams responded. He then reached his hand up to the communications control. ”This Buzzkill, flight 28-D9. Got a birdy with a full belly here. Anywhere specific you want me to put down? Over.” He finished.

“Flight 28-D9, we hear you. Set down at Vector 72s. We’re transmitting coordinates to you now.” A voice replied over the radio.

”Roger that, drifting now.” Buzzkill replied, shifting the controls to move starboard.

FOOM

Suddenly there was a pulse wave and everything in the city and in the air went dark.

”What the fuck the was that!” Buzzkill demanded

“EMP wave!” Seaweed responded.

”From what!” Buzzkill yelled out, then suddenly realizing the Pelican was turning and lost power. ”Oh shit! No Thrust!” He exclaimed.

With no power, the engines were dead. And the were in the worst possible movement they could have been in with that happening short of being upside down. The pelican began to slowly spin and move straight to the ground.

”Can you get power back at all!” Buzzkill asked, desperately trying to figure out what was going on.

“Nothings responding!” Seaweed replied.

”Ah fuck!” Buzzkill said. He looked through the door to the cargo hold at the Marines. ”We’re goin’ down! Brace yourselves!”

Buzzkill tried many things but completely in vain. Were this a different craft they might have had a better chance of control. But a Pelican’s wings were really just to hold the thrusters and direct the energy back down towards the ground. There was hardly a way to get the craft back under control.

There was really only one thing to do, and Morse jerked the control to the left. With the power out there was still emergency pullies that he could operate. It was a hard struggle and he moved it hard. All it did was direct the flaps to slow the spin, which it did only slightly.

”Here we go!” Buzzkill yelled as he watched the buildings become very large and whip away from them.

SMASH

The sound of shattering glass and grinding metal was heard as the craft crushed into one of the lower floors of a building. It cut straight through it however and continuing smashing. It spun and flipped over once before leveling again, and crashing into another building a bit lower. It skidded through the office floor before finally stopping.

Buzzkill opened his eyes up slowly. He could barely believe he was alive. It was not the first time he was shot though, nor the second, nor the third. In the war they were fighting it happened oddly frequently. That time was a bit higher off the ground then he usually was. Fortunately they were farther away from the enemy, and could figure out exactly what just happened.

”Seaweed.” Buzzkill said looking around. ”Seaweed you good?”

There was no answer.

Buzzkill looked over and found him slumped. ”Aw, damn.” He said. He reached over and slid Seaweeds visor up, and put his finger under the co-pilots nose. He was breathing, so he was just knocked out.

Buzzkill was surprisingly alright however. He had been on the other side of where the craft hit both times, and was able to brace himself on the sticks. The others were what worried him then.

Unbuckling himself, he stood up. He was still a bit dizzy from the crash, but he looked in the back. ”Anyone still up?” he said bracing himself on the door.

Half the marines were knocked out or dead. The other five were pretty badly wounded. They weren’t able to prepare themselves like Buzzkill was being able to see when they were landing. Plus they had loose compartments and debris flying around. Buzzkill was actually surprised it wasn’t worse.

Then something seemed odd. Someone was missing. ”Where’s Switch?” Buzzkill asked the marines.

But none of them knew. And only one thing came to Buzzkill’s mind.

”Shit… musta fallen out.” Buzzkill announced. It was sad, but it happened.

Buzzkill looked around. It was dark in the troop bay, but they could still faintly see. One of the marines kicked a flare on and they all had an orange hue. The damage to the interior was not horrible, but it everything was a mess. The Marines were still locked in and started helping each other out.

”Alright… we gotta figure this shit out.” Buzzkill said, realizing the squad sergeant was dead. ”You and you. Load up and come with me. We gotta get help. The rest a you, stay here and guard the bird. Try to keep the half dead from turnin’ whole.” There was really only two marines that were operable that were staying behind. The rest had broken limbs and bad bruises.

Buzzkill grabbed his submachine gun, and took a combat load from the compartments that were now strewn all over. He left his flight helmet however, as it was useless without his HUD, which was still deactivated due to the EMP.

They stepped outside to see nothing but short flames and the last of the falling debris.

”Hell… that’s just great.” the Lieutenant muttered.

Then there was some luck as a green flare shot up into the air, very close to where they were.

”Well… lets head that way.” Buzzkill said, keeping his SMG close as the two marine privates followed close behind him.

[Martial Virtue]

Lieutenant Colonel Adrienne Jackson, UNSC Marines

City of Refuge

On the move

Jackson and her subordinate had been walking for close to fifteen minutes now and they had yet to find a soul, friendly or otherwise. The lieutenant colonel began to wonder how wise her plan really had been after all. There was nothing else to be done, though, she reasoned to herself. We couldn't leave the wounded behind and unprotected. They had to find someone to go back and help, soon. Because this wasn't the only thing on Adrienne's agenda now that they'd finally landed. 

Interrupting her thoughts, Sergeant Costigan suddenly turned to her and asked, "Ma'am, where to now? Most of these blocks seem deserted."

"Agreed," she said, though she still found that odd. Then a terrible thought came to mind. "You think this might've been where the Army got hit hardest?" So hard no one was left.

"Could be, Colonel. The lack of bodies would indicate otherwise, but it's possible we just ended up at the outskirts and not much fighting went on here to begin with."

Jackson took in her aide's assessment. "Makes sense." Inside her helmet, she bit her lower lip. "We should look for Ramos while we're out here, too."

"The major, ma'am?"

"Yes. I remember the serial number of the Pelican he came in on. They were slated to land not too far from us."

"Before the EMP hit, you mean."

"Right, but it's possible he didn't stray too far. We certainly didn't. It was just a...much rougher drop than usual."

The remnants of which she still felt. Her heart was no longer thumping hard in her chest from the old memories, but her headache most definitely persisted. It was difficult to do much thinking beyond it, yet she had no choice but to try. Gripping her battle rifle tighter in her hands, she blew out a breath.

"I think I might have a concussion," she said matter-of-factly. 

Costigan looked grim. "All the more reason to get to a medic, Colonel."

Jackson didn't reply this time, instead choosing action over words. She picked up the pace despite the fact that the street was beginning to feel like it was moving of its own accord now, and not necessarily in tandem with her own steps. They wouldn't find a corpsman idly walking around, so a light jog was the better alternative. 

They'd gone about another block when the lieutenant colonel suddenly stumbled and lost her balance. She tried to regain traction with her boots but failed, landing hard on the asphalt on her knees, hands out to brace her fall. Good thing she'd had armor plating down her legs. The impact just reverberated through them rather than causing her a great deal of pain. 

Still, Sergeant Costigan cursed and came up behind her fast, giving her a hand. "Ma'am? You okay?"

"Damn fucking...headache," she snarled. Costigan reached to help further but she waved him away. "I'm fine, Sergeant. We just - "

That's when her ears perked up and she heard the sound. Quickly she brought her battle rifle back into her grip, ignoring the throbbing in her skull, and prepared to aim down the sights if need be. Whatever had made that noise hadn't sounded human. And after fifteen years in the Corps, I know my Covies, she thought.

Second Lieutenant Gabriel Hawk, UNSC Marines

City of Refuge

In the street

The second official op in the young Marine officer's life had begun, oddly, in much the same manner as the first - with the crash of the aircraft he was in. He'd dismissed the first time as coincidence, the second as confirmation that moms really did know best; his mother had been terrified of flying her whole illustrious career in the Corps, though she'd never outwardly shown it, and now he truly understood why. Because these buckets fucking fall. A lot.

Now, though, he and the remainder of his platoon were currently patrolling the mostly demolished streets of the city of Refuge, on Hope.

"Sir, I just tried the COM again. Still down," Staff Sergeant Sarah Reicher announced. She'd just walked up beside him, holding on tight to her assault rifle, giving away some of her anxiety in her otherwise collected self.

Gabriel snorted, gripping his own assault rifle close to his chest. "Guess I'd be an idiot to expect otherwise. Looks like it really was an EMP blast that knocked us out of the sky." He wished the pilot had been luckier. Gabe had a soft spot for them as well since his father was one, and he hated to think of his dad being cooked in that seat rather than the man who had. Hawk quickly shoved the thought aside, however. Mom and Dad aren't here right now. It's just you, your Marines, and a shitload of Covenant. Focus.

Concentration was hard to come by though when Hawk heard a familiar sound shoot up around them - not Covenant, not gunfire, but the firing of a flare. It lit up green in the sky and suddenly relief flooded through the young second lieutenant.

"Heads sharp, Marines," he said to his platoon then. "We're not the only ones who made it down all right. Friendlies nearby."

Hawk turned to face the staff sergeant as soon as he'd spoken and saw her expression visibly brighten as well. The only thing they'd run into since the crash had been dozens of UNSC Army and Covenant bodies, littering the streets with smoking craters of burst grenades and ordnance, spent bullet casings, and a hell of a lot of blood - on both sides. It hadn't been a pretty sight, and Gabe had feared the worst for the rest of the Marines landing, too. Apparently, though, plenty must have survived. 

"That's great news, sir," Reicher replied beside him. "Orders?"

Gabriel grinned back at her. "We head for where the flare was sent up of course, Staff. Let's move."

[Llau]

First Lieutenant Alex J. Bishop 

7th Marines 

Hope//Crash site 

Lieutenant AJ Bishop cringed in pain when he woke up after the pelican he was in suddenly went into free fall and crashed landed somewhere. Hard to say where they were exactly, and how long he was out cold, until he can do a SITREP with whomever else survived the crash. He sat there for a moment, hanging in a thirty degree angle; as he was still restrained by the seat belt he hooked himself into before they crashed. His heart was still beating rapidly within his chest, adrenaline from the situation that arose minutes ago. Once he calmed himself down and cleared his head, his blue eyes looked around his surroundings, but it was hard to see with the troop bay being dark.

“Uhn…what the hell hit us back there?” He winced, realizing his HUD of his eye-piece that was attached to his helmet wasn’t working. While he went to rummage for his small flashlight in the pocket of his pants, he yelled out to the rest other marines who were with him inside the troop bay. “Anyone else alive?” He tried to turn on the light, but it wasn’t working – annoying, he hit it a few times, and tried again, and still nothing.

“Piece of shit…” he murmured, trying it once more before angrily putting it back into his pocket.

‘That damn blast must have been an EMP…shit…’

There was a groan a couple of seats away, followed by the familiar voice of one of his Sergeants, Sasha Dmitri, “Uhh…I feel like I had one too many drinks, and then kicked by a sassy woman who plays hard to get because she cannot handle my charms.”

“McVodka,” Bishop grinned at what the Sergeant said. “Ah, good to see you’re all right.”

“Of course, I’m all right, Lieutenant,” Dmitri scoffed a little as he started to free himself from the leather straps. “It’ll take a lot more than some rough landing to kill a Russian.”

“Yeah, like that one woman who ended up kicking your drunken ass at the bar on Reach? She probably would have killed you if we didn't drag you out of there.”

“What can I say…I love tough woman…”

“Wow,” Bishop shook his head slowly and unfastened his safety belt around his shoulders and waist as carefully as he could, and then dropped down to his feet. He slid a little, but kept his balance as he went to check on the others, while Dmitri had to cut the straps to be able to free himself. The sergeant soon started to help the XO of Alpha Company with the other marines. Fortunately, the rest of his sergeants were alive, but still unconscious; but unfortunately, some of the corporals and privates were either seriously injured or clearly dead from the crash. At least some of them were okay, and while each of them were slowly waking up, Bishop had Sergeant Dmitri look them over, or helped free them if they needed help.

Bishop figured if his flashlight wasn’t working, and any of their electronics weren’t as well, then radio communication was probably fried, too. Even though communicating on the radio wasn’t an option at the moment of time, he had other ways. He went over to where an emergency kit was located, and grabbed a flare gun, and cautiously headed to the hatch to open it.
He nodded at two of his other sergeants who were up on their feet and helping the other survivors.

“Sergeant Karim and Krich,” He said when he recognized his other sergeant. “Shoulder your weapons and help me with the door. We need to tell any other UNSC personnel where we are, and perhaps regroup with the others.”

“Sir,” Karim headed over and helped the first lieutenant with opening the hatch.

When the two opened it halfway, together they aimed their assault rifles out as they looked around before they proceed with opening the door the rest of the way. Once it was down, Sergeant Karim and April Krich took point several feet from the downed Pelican to guard the parameter. They were soon joined by a few corporals and privates who were able to move.

Lieutenant Bishop raised the flare gun, pointing it vertically, and then fired the green flare. He watched it for a few moments, and then waited for any form of response.

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon B'Sheau Killinger
Seventh Marines
Hope; Refuge

"Welcome to the party," John said as the tankers arrived - unfortunately, however, without there tanks. He noticed the man had the strips of a Sergeant on his armor, which was irrelevant in this situation but it meant people were starting to show up, and to make things better the Army unit had actually sped up and were sprinting towards the RV point. "But it's bring your own beer this time, Sergeant." John added jokingly.

A green flare also shot into the air, which made John worry. The last flare he shot up was green, so it was likely a unit responding. However, the Veteran Marine officer didn't want people getting confused. He nodded, looked towards Lieutenant Jenkins and approached the man. John stripped the youngster of his green flares and stuffed the 40MM flare into the MA5C he had looted.

Satisfied, the Colonel shot the flare high into the air, hoping whom ever launched the other green flare would regroup at his location. If more people came together, they'd be able to get a chain of command going in this specific AO. Unfortunately they had less than a platoon still, and everyone was on foot so it wasn't exactly a fast process at the moment. They'd have to move out eventually, but the Colonel was hesitant in leaving this location until a couple of companies could be formed.

John was sure hundreds of Marines had survived from the thousands that had been deployed. The Seventh Marines consisted of nearly five thousand Marines, but it was high odds that not even a battalion would be formed. It appeared the UNSC Navy had stopped deployment, as no more dropships filled the sky. John could scan the horizon for hours, but there just weren't any areal assets airborne, for both Covenant and UNSC. The only things in the sky were the birds fleeing in nearly all directions.

The Colonel estimated roughly one thousand or so troops had been deployed so far, which lead him to assume at least half that number would have survived the crashes, but he couldn't begin to phantom how spread out his troops truly were - or how many of them were ODST. It, at this particular time, didn't matter what so ever what division a person was from. John's primary mission was to get a chain of command going, and he already had an officer arrive on location. Fortunately, NCO's had also arrived.

While officers provided vital leadership - and dependent on their rank - experience, NCO's provided vital experience as well as leadership at the same time. John would never trade a Lieutenant for a Staff Sergeant, but he silently hoped more of the arrivals were NCO's rather than officers. Logically, it made sense too. If there were more officers around that meant the bulk of the forces had been killed off, considering a platoon of forty only had one Lieutenant... or a company of two hundred only had four or five Lieutenants and a Captain.

Needless to say, NCO's and enlisted men were more vital than they usually realized themselves.

[HollowSaber]

: Corporal Jake Furrow :

: Refuge, Covenant Controlled Territory :

: Nova Squad:

    Jake released the largest sigh of his mission so far and stared out towards the distant Forerunner structure. It was a key piece of life in this city at the moment and the Covenant were all over the thing, making even looking at the piece risky. He needed to somehow shut it down or get it to move. Whether he failed or succeeded, he had to do something, anything. After sitting in front of that window for nearly twenty minutes, writing, scanning, checking, double checking, and counting; it was time to put his skills to the test. That Forerunner structure was going to be picked at whether the Covenant liked it or not, and most of all; even if it would cost Jake everything. If his superiors were by his side right now, Jake could guess that he would be shot for thinking about touching it or even getting close to the artifact. However, that’s what made Jake Furrow who he was.

    The Trooper leaned down over the maps he had and quickly gathered them together, stacking them one on top of the next but he was sure to keep the thinnest and whitest piece on top. With a hard push, he flattened the map so the one below it would show through. With his other hand, Jake grabbed his pen and began to trace the map below. Every line that he could get, Jake ran his pen over until both maps merged into one. He then tossed the second map away and went to a nearby desk. The ODST grabbed a handful of different colored pens and highlighters he would use for the next maps. One by one, Jake traced everything he could onto that single white piece of paper. It didn’t take him long to do it, but when it was finished he had to admit that the thing looked like a mess. However it confirmed his suspicions. All of the maps he had, aside from the terrain map, could have been neatly stacked on top of each other and there would be barely any line variations.

    “Perfect.” The man thought as he stared down at his work. Indeed, it was something to be amazed about. Humans were so simple that it was a wonder that they were still alive against such a technologically advanced enemy. If Jake didn’t know any better, he probably would have tried to switch sides. Though, he also had an obligation to keep. An obligation to his family; Jake would protect his brethren and fight to the last breath against anyone who dare stand against him, just like his father would have.

    “Old man, give me strength.” Jake prayed as he lifted his right forearm, giving the middle of it a gently kiss. He didn’t pull back the black cloth which covered it, as he felt it was unnecessary. His family was with him in his heart and one his sleeve, which was all he needed to keep fighting.

    Gathering up his gear, Jake quickly cleaned up after himself and stuffed everything into his backpack, including the old maps he wouldn’t be using anymore. Any trace of his existence was wiped clean from the room, even the moved pens were put back. Though, before he left, Jake cracked a window a tad, just enough for air to creep through so the thing didn’t look moved. The Covenant had a strong sense of smell, and the window would provide a way for air to circulate inside. With that, the Trooper slipped out the doorway on the opposite side of the room from which he had come. Descending from the top floor was much easier than ascending from the bottom, and Jake had moved from the top to the bottom in nearly half the time it had taken him to go up.

    When he pushed the door open, the Trooper raised his sniper and scanned the hall. It was clear, and the ODST felt better about himself because of it. Though he didn’t dwell and kept moving. He returned to the door he entered through and lifted the cabinet back up onto its original base. The door, now unblocked, opened and closed in a flash as Jake slipped back out into the streets. He moved patiently into the alleyway and navigated his way towards the heart of the Covenant zone. He wasn’t far from it and he knew full well he’d start running into patrols at any moment so he wasted no time.

    The Trooper moved out into a side-alley which connected to one of the streets and checked around himself. He looked left, right, up, down, and into all of the buildings using his detached telescopic scope to do so. He scanned for any signs of movement, life, or even shadows before he moved out into the street. He was insight for only a few seconds, long enough for the Trooper to bust open a manhole, sling his rifle, and slip down inside. Right after, the manhole was sealed back up and Jake vanished into the sewer.

    Using the ladder, the ODST descended all the way to the lower waterway and dropped down onto one of the pathways. Jake was thankful for his air filter, as much of the filthy stench was cleaned up, but it was extremely strong. Every breath Jake took he could smell and taste more and more of the disgusting water that flowed beside him. He felt as if he would get the plague from just being near the green looking liquid. At the same time, he was just as thankful for its nasty smell as he was for his helmet’s filter. The Covenant had strong senses of smell, which would make this place hell for them to track him in, in turn that made the sewer his best friend.

    Raising up the map in front of himself, Jake squinted to see what he had written. Without much light, the man had to rely on his own natural form of night vision. As he tried to see, Jake realized how much he actually relied on his gear before. Without it because of the EMP, the ODST was nearly dead in the water when it came to this stuff. Nearly, for after a few moments of hard looking, he was able to finally make out what was in front of him. Glancing up ahead of himself and then back down at the paper, Jake finally nodded and began to march. His destination was a bit further away due to the complex underground passage structure, but it would take him only a few minutes more to reach it. Once he did, Jake would have no issues with the next step. And that step would either make or break him.

[deceit]

Private Derringer kept his B9 pistol aimed squarely in the general direction of the grunts, squeezing off the trigger as fast as he can and keeping the pistol aimed as best he could between the bursts of recoil. 4, 5, 6, 7 shots went off, the bullets pinged off of the metal and put chunks in the asphalt and concrete, but he could hardly see or tell this between the sound of his own gun, the smoke, the recoil, the speed at which everything was happening, and the sound of the M7 submachine gun pat-pit-patting to his left at the Sangheili that had been pursuing him. 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, he had fired his pistol quite often before, but now his hand was clammy and his thoughts were scattered as everything was happening around him.

13, 14, 15. Suddenly a loud explosion was heard. He jumped to the ground, and so did Private Bendle, his MA5 clattering as he hit the ground hard to take cover from what he assumed was a covenant counter-attack.

"Keep shooting, dammit, that was just a tire!" Private David Manly screamed back at them.

Private Derringer swallowed his alarm. Only seconds ago they had been fleeing in a vehicle when a damned pulse of...whatever the hell it was, killed their vehicle. Thinking themselves completely screwed, they had all braced for death. After a few seconds of tensely sitting, they all turned to see the covenant fiddling with their weapons, the one armed maroon colored Sangheili's shields flickering off, and the Kig-Yar ( the worst of them all, in Derringer's opinion ) gauntlet shield formation shattered. All of their power based tech seemed to have completely failed them. The Soldiers, while their mechanic threw the hood of the vehicle open, jumped out and began expending their rounds as rapidly as possible. Still, all of them, Derringer especially, had been expecting a plasma grenade or something to come arcing forward and cause their inevitable deaths.

Nothing. Derringer re-aimed his pistol, a little slower now. He saw one of the grunts peeking out of its cover, and aimed, squeezing the trigger carefully. The grunt squealed and jumped back as the bullet ripped a small hole in the asphalt next to his face. He silently cursed himself for his poor aim.

"Derringer, check on the civvy!" Manly, who, despite them all being Privates, was technically the ranking officer among them. Derringer moved up straight and skidded along the edge of the car, "What's the sit-rep on the wheels, are we hot?" He asked.

"Hot wheels?" The civvy, whose occupation had been that of a mechanic for many years, and it had been him who had gotten their vehicle working in the first place.

"Will this piece of shit get going again?" Derringer asked.

"Nah, man. Batteries fried to bits. We'll need a new one. Doubt the combustion engine would start anyway, just look at it..."

Derringer hadn't even waited for him to finish, he turned and dashed over to Manly, who was firing another burst in between Bendle's bursts, keeping both the Unggoy and the Sangheili pinned down.

"Our wheels are burned, sir!"

"Shit!"

"Where the hell are those Kig-Yar?" Private Derringer asked.

"Shit, everyone get behind the cover, now!" Private Manly shouted. Derringer ran to the front of the car, grabbing the Civvy, whose name was Mick, Micky Cavael.

"Bendle on the double!" Manly ordered, hopping behind the APC hog.

~*~

Jib had ordered his file to fall back. He had tried contacting Ra'ab but it was quickly apparent that the Sangheili was both unable to do anything as well as the radios being down. He knew he needed to do something, but Jib's weapons weren't working either. They only had one weapon available now, and it was their type 36 Needle Rifle. Reevar was their best shot. Jib had relocated, and the group of them scaled a nearby building, jumping on a balcony ( it seemed to be some kind of apartment, with living quarters and strange furniture adornments within ) and Jib had sent Lebit and Torbit into the apartment to make sure nobody was inside.

Once at their superior position, Jib took a scout of the situation. Bullets were shredding the defenses of the Unggoy and Sangheili Major's respectively. Jib didn't care for their lives, particularly. He looked to make sure they both remained for a moment, and then considered if he should even save either of them. Ra'ab was a pain in the ass, but all Sangheili were. And as far as Sangheili went he wasn't that bad, Jib supposed. So he gave Reevar the order, who had been aiming his weapon for quite some time. "Kill." Jib told Reevar.

~*~

Bendle had been quite a long friend of Derringer's.

"None of their weapons are functional, now is our chance to kill all these covvie bastards for what they did to our city!" Bendle had shouted.

Manly had shouted back something about not knowing what was going on or where the Kig-Yar file had gone, but Derringer couldn't hear it all. All he could focus on was the intrusion of a bright pink needle squarely on Bendle's face, and then Bendle spinning around, dropping his MA5 Assault Rifle on the ground. Two more needle dug through his chest, and he fell on his knees before hitting the ground, causing the two pink needles to suddenly combust. Bendle's wounds exploded open, his head popped like a water baloon, sending its contents in all directions. Derringer sank down to his butt behind the APC, blocking the gory and disgusting view. His eyes widened.

He did not know what to do, or even think. Bendle was dead, and all that remained a gory disgusting corpse.

What the hell was he even doing here? He wasn't a real soldier! He wasn't suppose to be fighting a war! Private Samuel Derringer had just been in college studying English only a year ago! He had only been a soldier in the military for less than that time. He had just gotten through basic months ago...what the hell was all this? Why did the Covenant attack? Why here? Why did Bendle have to die? Was he going to die next? Did the covvie have him in his sights even now?

~*~

Ra'ab watched the projectiles tear through the enemy. The Kig-Yar's had a functioning weapon!

Ra'ab jumped out from cover, stomping across the street to reach the three surviving humans behind their meager cover.

[Buzzkill]

Lieutenant “Buzzkill” Adams
Ground - On the Move
Pelican CL-2512-T3 – Out of Commision

The rain was making for a miserable time. Buzzkill did not like walking around in the rain, especially not when it was a combat zone. Though they had not come across any Covenant, and were supposedly fairly far away from where the Covenant were, it would not be the first time the Covenant had managed to sneak up on UNSC. It wouldn’t even be the first time they snuck up on Buzzkill.

Perhaps it would be for his two marines. The two were noted as being fresh out of bootcamp, which gave Buzzkill a great deal of confidence in terms of having them come along. But both squads were basically nothing but new comers to the Corps, so there really was no difference. Buzzkill had not even managed to get their names yet. He was far more concerned with getting everyone back with their heads on straight.

He came upon the building which they believed the green flare had come from. There were other marines coming up slowly to that position which made Buzzkill feel a bit more comfortable with their situation. Though he was not used to being on the ground, he’d been shot down enough to have a decent amount of firefight experience. He just hoped that his time on the ground here would not take too long.

Buzzkill saw some of the marines gathering on the roof, and so he moved himself towards the building with the two privates in tow. He did not entirely grasp why they were on top of the roof, they would have had to have climbed out of a window to get there. Still that was what the name of the game was for that day, and Buzzkill was not going to question it.

”Come on guys. Safety’s just ahead.” Buzzkill commented jokingly. They were far from safe with that tiny gathering, but it was much better then nothing.

They entered the building and were met with the other small groups of marines there. Buzzkill had assumed to be dealing strictly with enlisted, and he looked at them as such, not sure if he would be the highest rank there. ”Tops up top?” He asked, seeing if there were Sergeants around.

A Corporal pointed up, and Buzzkill nodded. ”Of course they are.” He muttered to himself. He turned around to face his two Privates. ”You two stay here.” He ordered, as he moved up the stairs. Technically the chain of command still applied him as the highest rank in spite of his role as a pilot, and the two marines didn’t question him.

Buzzkill made his way up the stairs, and looked for a way up to the roof. As none presented itself, Buzzkill knew there was just the one option. ”Out’n around.” he muttered, talking to himself as he frequently did.

He slung his M7 submachine gun, and put his hand up to grip the roof. ”Grrr, fuckin’.” He grumbled pulling himself up.

His blonde hair, though short, was showing a slumped nature due to the wet air. At that point he regretted not wearing his helmet. He got himself onto the roof and brought himself back to his feet.

”Who’s acting Serge…” Buzzkill stopped himself realizing he wasn’t the only officer. ”Oh shit, it’s you!” He exclaimed, when he looked and recognized Killinger.

Buzzkill had distinct memories of an operation that went south and a very angry Colonel who had brought a very odd sort of cargo onto his Pelican. ”I-I mean, sir.” Buzzkill stammered. ”I don’t know if you remember. Buzzkill... I mean uh, Adams..." he intrdocued himelf. "I was your… air limo driver off that jungle rock a while ago. You… put a bird on my bird.” Buzzkill spoke in a very coded way, as he was not entirely sure how much, if any of it was classified as he had never been told. He most certainly did not go asking about what that had happened. Still it was good to know the most grizzled of veterans was currently there to lead.

[MrKill]

Colonel Johnathon B'Sheau Killinger
Seventh Marines
Hope; Refuge

"Yes, yes it is me." Killinger replied dryly to the new arrival, but had honestly forgotten about what the man was saying until he referenced the planet they had retreated from, along with the Jackal that was now dead - but that part was classified. John only knew about it because he had a top level clearance from being the commander of Task Force Seven Seven, but eventually that clearance was going to be erased - it was only a matter of time before John would stop being able to access lightly classified ONI files they shared with the Navy.

"Saw you come down, glad you made it." Killinger said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the Lieutenant's crashed pelican. He knew the man had wounded, so there was work to be done now. Sergeant Miller had also brought wounded, so Killinger needed to make a makeshift sick bay. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen." The Colonel said, dismissing himself. He climbed back into the house and found himself in the kitchen moments later.

It was a larger kitchen, a large table with two islands. It was perfect, for now, in treating the wounded - only one thing was wrong, there wasn't a medic or corpsman present quite yet. However, it appeared more Marines had joined the fray. Before continuing with his plans the Colonel gave a head count and was satisfied with the results, fifteen people had regrouped on this location - fifteen more or so the Colonel would take the building in the field.

John personally cleared off the table, while two Privates followed by example and cleared off the island, giving the Colonel a respectful nod. John brought down the wounded man Miller had brought with him, as well as the Army Trooper Jenkins and Bowers had picked up. Killinger accessed his neural hub and was relieved to find out he could access the data of the wounded. Since the neural hubs were running of impulses from the brain, they were started to warm up.

The Corporal has a minor concussion and a laceration under his armor, but according to the medical reading John saw through his retina the bleeding had stopped. Just to be safe, though, John pulled out one of the biofoam containers, stripped the Corporal of his armor and lightly filled the wound. The bio-foam would stop an infection.

The Specialist, the Army Ranger, had two broken ribs. There was nothing the Colonel could do, unless the Army Trooper gave permission for John to cut open the area between the ribs and fill it with bio-foam, but the Trooper denied. John, however, could help. He handed over the cool metal can of the biofoam so the trooper could lay with it on his rib cage.

"Damn it," He muttered, before heading outside. The three civilians from before had walked back towards the house and were sitting down by a patch of flowers, but that was predicted. John pulled a cigarette out of a pack he had deployed with and lit it. It wasn't his cigar he liked, but he wasn't wasting them right now when he knew he could be here for a while.

He tossed a Private First Class his pack of cigars and lighter; "Pass them around. Keep the smokes, but I want the lighter back." He said, and the Private moved off and began sharing the cigarettes. They did truly help calm a situation down.

John, assuming 'Buzzkill' had followed, spoke directly towards the younger officer. "How many wounded at your crash-site, Lieutenant Adams?"

[Buzzkill]

Lieutenant “Buzzkill” Adams
Ground - On the Move
Pelican CL-2512-T3 – Out of Commision

Things seemed bleaker then Buzzkill thought, even with the fact that the Colonel was now the head of their very wounded snake. They didn’t even number twenty, and though they were trickling in, the Covenant outnumbered them for sure. Though there was the solace that they likely still had orbital assets, and there were more and more on their way, it was still a rather hopeless venture.

The Colonel recognized him, which made Buzzkill feel a bit better. He did not know him as a capable ground asset, but pilots went through the same training as the infantry, just with the added bonus of knowing how to operate the life saving material. At the present moment however that skill was rather useless.

Buzzkill watched as the Colonel moved back down into the house, and he looked around. The only thing he could think to do was follow him, since he was the one in command. At the moment Buzzkill was basically just an officer without a real commission, but he was getting the impression that would likely change.

He leaned back against a wall a moment as the Killinger moved around the room, addressing the wounded. Buzzkill did not have any idea of what to do exactly for them, and was really wondering what their next move was going to be. He did eventually need to get back to his Dropship to get the wounded.

Then the Colonel mentioned his troops, and Buzzkill had a certain relief. ”Uh, two… no, three.” he corrected, remembering that his co-pilot was amongst the wounded. ”Some more worse then others. The tray was at seating capacity, since we didn’t wanna over load cus of the RC-Caps we had swingin’ at the back.” Buzzkill noted. It was common practice to keep the troop bay fairly empty if you were pulling a large shipment of equipment. Instead of a vehicle or nothing, his pelican had eight Resupply Cannisters hanging from the back, in addition to a large amount of ammunition.

Their mission was initially going to be to drop off the green troops and help with ordinance. Now that mission was a tad out of date, but Buzzkill still had it fairly fresh in his mind.

[Wax™]

Master Sergeant John Booth
ODST Sniper; Eagle-Eye One-Actual
Somewhere in the Edge Covenant Sector

"Argh, it's not opening!" A voice came from outside John's pod.

"Pull harder then Buckley!" Another voice said.

"We're... Fucking... Trying!" A third voice said.

"Well hurry up guys... Covenant will be swarming this place soon." Said a fourth voice.

John shook his head, he was hearing voices, he wasn't sure if the voices were in his head or not, opening his eyes he shook his head some more, he couldn't see clearly out of his pod, it was like the glass had some sort of black substance on them, but soon enough that wouldn't matter. Several moments after regaining full conciousness the hatch of his pod was essentially ripped off by the hands of four men, who at first glance looked like army rangers.

"Get him out of there..." One of the army rangers said, three of the men reached in and grabbed John by his arms and the rest of his body before helping him out of the pod and leaning him against the outside of the over turned pod.

"Trooper... You alright..." One of the rangers said, seemingly the one in authority judging from the chevrons on his arm.

John nodded. "...Where am I?" He said lazily.

"You're in the Covenant zone trooper, one of the highest skyscrapers and on the third from the top floor... Shit mate you have no idea how long it took us to get to you..." The highest ranging army soldier said, apparently a Staff Sergeant.

"My weapon..." John said looking to a Private, he then looked to the Staff Sergeant again. "...Who are you guys, what unit are you from?" John said, slowly lifting himself up to a standing position, holding his hand out to the Private who was bringing him his sniper.

"Names David Spencer... We belong to the 25th Army Rangers, we're Delta Force though." Said the Staff Sergeant. 

John nodded, taking his sniper rifle from the Private who eventually got it to him, arching his back a little he stretched his spine and rolled out his shoulders before nodding and looking around. Looking down to his belt he had remembered his side arm was already attached to him as well as all his ammunition.

"Alright... Well listen... Since you guys have been here since the invasion I need a sitrep of the past hour or so?" John said, looking to the Staff Sergeant.

"Sitrep? Shit Trooper, for the majority of the attack we have been running from one building to the next, hiding from the Covenant and trying to get civilians to safety... But since you guys and the Marines dropped in, we've been trying to find you... And the source of the EMP." Spencer said.

"EMP?" John said, raising a brow underneath his helmet.

"Yeah... That's why you guys just fell out of the sky... We've managed to find out where the EMP came from, the city centre some place, just not what did it... But long story short, nothing that runs on any sort of electricity, works at all... Emergency equipment and even EMP proof equipment have blown." Spencer said with frown.

"Alright." John said sighing. "...All of you are now under my command, you said I was in the Covenant zone?" John said.

"That's right..."

"Alright... I can't waist time escorting civilians or trying to establish communication with the higher ups... We're going to head into the city centre and find out what fried our equipment... Then we're going to disable it..." John turned his head to a Corporal who was guarding the group this entire time. "...You... Take point down the stairs, I'll follow second, followed by the rest of you... Let's move out!" John said, making his way to the stair-well with the rest of the men, making their way down the huge skyscraper.


Staff Sergeant Jason Bowers
Seventh Marines; Delta One-One

"Colonel Sir..." Jason said, interrupting blatantly. "...I know you'd rather keep everyone here... But I feel useless, I'd like to take a maximum of two Marines and head toward my crash-site and see if I can find any marines out there, hopefully some of my own." 

Jason gripped his MA37 rather hard he was anxious and he wanted to get back out there, he felt incredibly useless where he was right now and he wanted to find his men or any other marine, more importantly he wanted to dive out there to find the source of the EMP and get him as well as the Colonel out of the dark, he felt it and he was sure the Colonel felt it too, any experienced veteran marine would feel what he was feeling, the feeling of drowning.

[Guardian Cat of Yappa's]

Sergeant Maximilian "Drake" Fields
Scattered, Battered, But Still Fighting
Battle of Refuge

Moments before the EMP pulse: 

"Touchdown, Hit it marines!"
             
Jumping off the pelican, his MA5C in hand Drake instantly moved to form a defensive position around the LZ, "Irish, move your squad up into that house half a click down the road." 

"Roge-"

His H.U.D disappearing just as his comms went dead, Drake attempted to turn it back on with no luck, he tried his other electronics and found those dead as well. As he got up to move around, the first place he looked to was the sky, and what he saw almost made him wish for a stray plasma round to come flying by, the pelicans and albatrosses were slowing down and falling out of the sky, realizing what happened he turned and yelled in Third Squad's Direction "E-M-P!"

An Explosion from a something crashing into the ground caused him to move for cover, wondering what the hell was going on, he moved into a alley way between to houses, hoping nothing would fall on top of him, and tried to figure out a way to regroup with a squad. He looked to the sky again, the sound of a dying engine filled his ears, as a pelican was coming down over his position. it crashed into a house, behind his current position, that was on the edge of the Designated LZ. Leveling his rifle he started moving towards the crash site, praying that it wasn't one of his squads in the bird.

Fixed the spacing, indents are unnecessary.
-Martial

[Huka]

Field Master Til 'Muramai

Returning to the Artifact for orders

Striding through the captured section of the city; streets pocketed with glassed rubble from plasma and fuel rod artillery, bodies that weren't eaten or taken for 'sanctifying' the area laid where they were, very rarely whole, and silence was this area's music...with the distant howls of the Jiralhanae and clash of battle far from his position as the background. Til ignored the taps of rain hitting his helmet and cloak, making him pull the cloth closer to himself. The patrols weren't around this area...he had to fix that. The soldiers were stretched too thin, the last thing he heard before the Battlenet being disrupted was that several were in the north or south. Few were in between to act as patrols.

Til have been fighting these humans since the beginning and one thing he knew about them was their annoying urge to not keep still. Sadly for him, he was the same. He could almost hear them plotting and sneaking around in these very streets.

He would go to eliminate the pockets of human resistance around the sector but Til, in his grizzled rotations, have absolutely little faith in leaving the target unattended. The Field Master felt abit ashamed to think lowly about his comrades but he had to valiant.

Halting himself, the Muram looked at the ghostly building. His eyes looked at every window, expecting snipers or anything to ruin his day, but there was nothing. Grunting, Til continued on towards the heart of their territory;The excavation site. A creche of the sect remained here to defend both the holy artifact and the Field Marshal. The patrolling Minors saluted to their trainer and stood rigid under the shade of the useless Locusts. Til had half the mind to order them dismantled to work as barricades and makeshift weapons, but that will waste time and they didn't quite the resources to do that. He could almost hear the Sect's weapon master going off on some youngsters about being unable to fix the weapons.

"Where is the Field Marshal?" Til asked to one of the Major, who pointed a claw at the source of the glowing pulses. "In there, Field Master." He said gruffly, not out of disrespect, but the constant yelling in war. The Zealot nodded and threw his cloak behind his shoulders the moment he was out of the rain. "R'ha!" He called out, glancing his eye as if he felt like someone was watching, but he kept the feeling off for now. The Field Master hoped his brother was having a better mood and success than he was. Til was not easy and he will not allow order to crumble, he needed to know his leader's orders or have a runner to relay his own command.

[Martial Virtue]

Lieutenant Colonel Adrienne Jackson, UNSC Marines

City of Refuge

On the move

Jackson had only just brought her weapon up when the needler rounds came flying at their position. She'd been right; the noise she'd heard was a small group of Grunts, looking the worse for wear, obviously involved in the fighting that had gone on planetside before the Marines had arrived. The lieutenant colonel didn't pause to think through more than that, however, instantly throwing herself flat to the ground.

"Costigan, get - !"

The rattling of his SMG blocked out the rest of what she shouted, ripping through the first Grunt's stomach and dropping the alien to the asphalt in a flash. The seasoned sergeant turned on the second Covie next, intending to do the same, but when he fired all that emerged from his weapon was a click click sound. His magazine was spent.

"Son of a bitch!" he cried, but Adrienne was already picking up the slack. 

Prone in the street, Jackson had enough stability to fire off several precise bursts at the rest of the approaching Grunts. One she tagged in the head, light blue blood spurting from the fatal shot as its body bucked backward, then she quickly fixed her sights on the next, blowing a hole in its methane tank before squeezing the trigger one more time to completely eliminate the threat. Once done, there was only one Grunt left, and it wailed loud at the death of its comrades and went scurrying off into the side alley they'd originally come out of.

"Oh no you don't," Jackson growled under her breath. At the protest of her aide behind her, she pushed herself off the ground and was up and running in a flash. Head throbbing and equilibrium not so good, thanks to her head injury, she still managed to keep on her feet this time and track down the last little alien bastard. She cornered him in the tight quarters and fired off another burst, killing the Grunt instantly.

Breathing hard but satisfied, Adrienne stood there a moment to get her bearings, waiting as the world spun around her. She reached out to brace herself against the side of a half-blown out building, then turned slowly at the sound of Sergeant Costigan approaching, gun up. He lowered it as soon as he saw her alone in the alley with the dead Grunt by her boots.

"Good. You're safe. Had me worried there for a sec, Colonel."

Jackson managed a small smirk. "I still know how to do my job, David." She shut her eyes a moment, pausing again to let the street cease its constant revolution. "Even with this goddamn headache. At least now we know we're not entirely out of the fight."

"Roger that."

"Anyway, all this means is we've got to be sharper out here now. Let's continue the search around the area. If some of the Covies are still scouting the place, there must be others who survived as well. Of ours."

"Yes, ma'am."

Thankfully for them, it was just ten minutes later that other sounds became audible nearby. Low speech - humans this time. Still, not one for taking chances, Jackson announced herself from cover before she greeted them. The voices could've been civvies for all she knew, and jumpy civvies with guns could be just as bad as Covenant in a situation like this.

"UNSC forces?" she called out.

"Yeah, who's there?"

Right. Like she'd just take him on faith. "Your service number first, Marine."

There was a chuckle. "We're not Marines. We're Army. I'm guessing you're a jarhead?"

Beside her, Costigan made a face of disapproval. "She's not just a damn jarhead, doggie. She's a lieutenant colonel. Show respect."

The light laughter abruptly stopped. "Ma'am. Sorry. Sergeant First Class Evan Glover, UNSC Army. UNSC Service Number 48732-00424-EG."

It was only once he'd spelled out his name, rank, and service number that Jackson realized she had nothing to check it against anymore; her helmet's electronics were completely dead. Fucking great, she thought. Guess I will have to take it on faith after all...

Cautiously the lieutenant colonel stepped out of cover, Costigan on her six with his weapon drawn in case this wasn't legit. Judging by the haggard, dirty, and bloodied faces of the Army personnel she saw when she emerged, however, Adrienne knew they were telling the truth. 

My God, she thought. What have all of you been through? Aloud, she said, "Nice to see some friendly troops. It was quiet when we landed, and all we've run into so far was a small group of Grunts. Not many bodies, either." She looked over at the SFC and smiled. "And you've got my son's name. Want to tell me what happened?"

The soldier was slow to respond. "Not much to tell, ma'am. Covies came in so hard and fast we barely had time to react. Our asses were pretty much beat before we even had a chance at restoring order." He reached up to the edge of his helmet to scratch the side of his face. "City's gone now, Colonel. Out of our control. Covies got it dominated. My unit's either scattered or mostly dead, and the civvies...well, I can't imagine many of those made it out, either."

Jackson took in the information with a slight nod. The situation was grim, then - more than she'd thought. But she knew that they still had to find a way to regroup, to get out of here and try to get the remaining civvies in Refuge out with them. And more immediately, she still needed to get help for her Marines back at the crashsite. And later, maybe even for myself. The headache and dizziness weren't letting up.

Facing the SFC once more, she replied, "Understood, Sergeant. Who've you got with you so far? Like I said, it's nice to see anyone who's on our side out here alive and well, but we're looking specifically for a corpsman. Our Pelican landed hard from the EMP blast that went through and we've got some wounded."

"You're in luck, ma'am. We just so happen to have one with us. Medic Daly will help you out."

A young woman stepped forward from the group of about five soldiers then, her uniform more drenched in dark red blood than the others. Obviously she'd already treated many patients since the combat had first begun. Poor kid. Seeing your own planet like this must be rough. Jackson didn't know what she'd do if she ever saw her homeplanet of Reach in a state like this.

It was a good thing that wouldn't ever happen because of its strong military defenses. The Covenant would never be smart enough to find it, let alone stupid enough to attack a place that heavily fortified. Thank God my family is safe.

"I'm Medic Gina Daly, ma'am," the Army medic said. "Used to be attached to fourth platoon but, well...as of now, that's just us."

Again Adrienne nodded. "You'll have to do. I'm sorry for your losses, all of you, but there's still a chance the remainder of your unit just got separated. My Marines and I are in the same boat at the moment, but we're hoping to get this show on the road soon and start piecing everyone back together. For now, though, I've got a number of my men still waiting at the crashsite for help. I know exactly where it's at. Follow me."

Second Lieutenant Gabriel Hawk, UNSC Marines

City of Refuge

In the street

Hawk and his Marines kept wandering in the direction of the flare, doing their best to follow it through the winding streets. A lot of the more direct routes were places the Marines simply couldn't go because parts of the nearby buildings had fallen, or the craters going that way were too large to pass through, or there were simply too many bodies. Gabe was starting to feel sick to his stomach at seeing all the dead, but he tried not to show his unease to his platoon members. It would be bad form, and he didn't want to seem like he was that easy to rattle.

If I could just duck into an alley real quick and puke...

Another green flare suddenly went up into the sky this time, again filling the air with brilliant color. Gabriel swallowed the bile in his throat and began to feel a little better.

"More friendlies that made it," he said to Staff Sergeant Reicher, walking beside him. "That's great."

"Yes, sir. Do you want us to continue on our current heading?"

The young second lieutenant thought a moment before coming to a decision. The first flare was still a long way off. The second had come from nearby. They could easily get there in a few more minutes, so long as they didn't encounter resistance along the way.

"No," Gabe finally said. Then, speaking louder, he added, "Marines, change of plans. We're heading for that second flare. It's closer and it'd be best to head to the first with more numbers. Let's go!"

[deceit]

NO! Ra'ab thought as retaliatory bullets pinged off of Ransy and Nam-Nim's cover. Some of the shots went right through the relatively thin metal, getting closer and closer to the Unggoy's with every shot. He needed to do something. The marines were shooting from underneath their APC now, and Reevar, who had the only gun, couldn't get a clear shot in. He couldn't let them kill his Lance. He would not bare the shame of losing more soldiers, not after the wreckless defeat of Khab'Drem. No. He would rather die in a storm of bullets. Ra'ab grabbed Minor Tansy's tank, turning him to face him.

"Minor, open this vehicle's side door." He ordered.

"WHAT?" Tansy asked.

"Open!" Ra'ab roared into Tansy's face. The Unggoy jumped back for a second and shook, before looking at the door, "Y-y-yes Major Domo!" Tansy squeaked out. He reached along the smooth surface of the vehicle's silver door, trying to find a way to open it, until he found a handle. While Tansy fiddled with the door, Ra'ab took a good look at his opponents. Their best and most accurate was out of order, lying in front of the APC with a bloody corpse. But the sub-machine gun was still pittering out bullets, interchanging between him and the Unggoy's position. Reevar still had no shot. He needed to find a way to take out their cover or force them to retreat. The one with the pistol was the more dangerous foe. His shots were slow, few, and accurate. They were getting very close to Ransy.

He turned to see Tansy's progress. The vehicle's door was wedged open. Ra'ab lifted one of his powerful Sangheili feet and kicked the end of the door as hard as he could. The metal screeched and squealed as the hinge crushed in. He kicked again, and heard the sound of snapping steel frame. Another kick. Another, another. Glass and paint was falling to the floor, as well as what appeared to be an armrest and an ashetray. Tansy was on the ground shivering wide eyed at Ra'ab's wanton destruction. Suddenly, finally, the hinges gave way, and the door fell to the ground. Ra'ab grabbed the top of the door and held it up, crouching behind it.

The Kig-Yar used their energy shields in order to advance on a target. Perhaps he could do the same. Only he couldn't stabilize the shield. He had just one arm. "Minor, help me hold it." He ordered.

~*~

"What the hell?" Derringer asked, as a car door suddenly came into the middle of the street, hovering forward.

"Shoot it!" David Manly called out.

"I think we should retreat..." Derringer said, "What the hell is going on anyways? We don't need to die here, man, the city has already been taken."

"Shoot, you coward!" Manly said, flustered, angry, "I'm not letting these bastards get away with this."

With a sigh, David lined his weapon up with the floating door shield, firing several pistol rounds into it. Suddenly a pink needle hit the asphalt in front of the APC bouncing up and hitting the bottom of it right next to Derringer's head. Derringer and Manly were on their bellies underneath it, and that shot from those blasted Kig-Yar almost killed him.

"Holy shit!" Derringer cried out, rolling away from the car, "If one of those needles hits the gas tank and combusts we're done for. Not to mention that almost hit my face."

David crawled out from underneath the vehicle as well, putting his back to it, "If we let that Sangheili reach us, we are done for. Suddenly they heard a loud smashing noise. They turned to see the door laying flat on the ground and eight feet and nine inches of one armed Sangheili stampeding over the 20 meter distance, clearing that gap with a disgusting amount of speed, "RUN!" David screamed. David Manly and Derringer took off away from the APC at a full sprint...

it was too late for Micky the mechanic. He didn't realize what was going on in time.

560 pounds of Sangheili muscle and power hit the bottom of the APC and lifted up. The sheer force of his body hitting the body of the APC hog bent the frame on the side in and tilted the whole thing onto two wheels. From there, his one armed lifted with every ounce of his strength, and the vehicle toppled forward. Micky suddenly screamed and dashed forward. The next thing he knew, his legs were giving out behind him as a thousand pounds of steel and machinery flattened every bone in his left leg and snapped his right leg at the kneecap. He fell face first on the asphalt, spitting out blood from internal hemorrhaging. 

The Army soldiers took one look back at Micky...and knew he was already done for. They kept running.

[HollowSaber]

: Corporal Jake Furrow :

: Refuge, Covenant Controlled Territory :

: Nova Squad:

    The good thing about the plan in Jake’s mind was that he had a lot of time to think to himself. Unlike the war above where soldiers on both sides were sniffing and hunting, or trying to regroup, Jake didn’t have raised his rifle at any point. He didn’t have to worry about allies, he didn’t have to worry about a perimeter to keep. He never had to pull the trigger if he didn’t want to and the Trooper could have just sat in the building he had just been in for a few more hours if he chose to. There was no rush to move, no rush to engage the enemy, and no rush to put himself in harms way. The struggle for survival was a quiet one, and Jake didn’t have to participate in it for a long, long time. Even now, as he squinted at the piece of paper just inches in front of his face, Jake had the choice of just twirling about his heels and going back the same way he had just come.

    Yet, he kept walking and continued to place one step in front of the other. Jake made his way forward through the sewer and closer to his objective without much worry about the world ten feet above him and on the opposite side of ten feet of concrete. What was bugging him though were the little marks on the map he held. The first mark was fast approaching as he navigated forward, and there wasn’t any symbol box for him to refer to. The only thing Jake could think of was some sort of locking mechanism, possibly a block in the path where he’d need to take a door to find his way out.

    Then, faster than he had thought, Jake noticed a dark shadow filling his visor. By the time he realized what occurred; it was too late. It was a slow, steady pace Jake had, but the force of him running into a massive wall still made him wince. The Trooper’s map crinkled and his hands were mashed between the wall and his torso. In response to the sudden impact, Jake stumbled and fell flat down on his backside. He grumbled as he shook his head to alleviate the slight pain which now filled his head, and looked up to see his path was completely cut off. There was no way for him to proceed from here, and it made him sigh. Glancing to the map that lay on the floor to his left, Jake realized what the markings were; flood gates meant to cut off parts of the sewers because of the invasion.

    A low groan escaped Jake’s lips as he stared up towards the barricade. He flicked his right foot out and kicked it, causing his boot to shudder from the tap. It seemed that without using his precious explosives, Jake wouldn’t be getting to much further. For him, it wasn’t much of an issue. There were be plenty of other chances to get to the artifact so he would simply have to change his plan. Rather than go underground, he’d have to go in like any other soldier would. Though, he’d do it in a much smoother and silent fashion.

    Jake clutched his map and returned to his feet. He grumbled at the flood gate one last time before turning around and jogging back the way he came. The distance he covered was short, and if he had to think about it the ODST had made it nearly halfway to his objective before reaching the barrier. It was a good distance to cover without bumping into anything life threatening, but it was a distance he would have to backtrack if he wanted to remain safe. He had the choice of popping out of a nearby manhole, but if he did so there was an extremely high chance of running into Covenant. Jake would need to pull back, get to his designated fallback point, and then proceed back into Covenant territory. Plan B was a lot more difficult to pull off, but it was still a hope Jake could hold onto. Plan B also incorporated a lot of pain for the Covenant so he wouldn’t complain to much.

    Pulling the map close to his face, Jake evaluated it and his surroundings. He then looked to his left, checking the walls for paint. He hadn’t made any markings on the wall himself but there were a few manholes with markings on them. He used this as counters. Jake had passed three marked manholes before reaching the wall and the entrance he used was two holes away from the first marked entrance. It was simple counting and observations, but it was a priceless thing to use when trying to remain unnoticed. Landmarks were better than manmade marks so Jake avoided cutting things or carving into walls. If he had done so and a random Covenant soldier had noticed the mark, Jake’s chances of remaining out of sight were close to zero. Patrols would be strengthened and he could bet a search party would be sent out. Jake never knew the Covenant for ones to sit back and let Humans meddle in their affairs.

    When the Trooper reached his destination, he folded up his map and tucked it away. With a hop, Jake elevated up and snagged onto the raised steel ladder that was dug into the wall. Once he had a firm grip and raised himself high enough to put his feet into the rails, the Trooper climbed his way back up to street level. Yet, he didn’t just pop out. The Trooper hesitated by the manhole and waited. Silently, he leaned his ear against the cover and listened…

    Above, the sounds of yipping and hissing echoed down into the sewers below, filling Jake’s perked up ears with noise as the sounds grew louder and louder. Eventually he was able to hear the sounds of metal clicking, boots stomping, and even heavy breathing. Grunts waddled over the manhole cover, led by what sounded to be an Elite. There were also some jackals in the fray. The only problem was that Jake couldn’t distinguish their numbers. He had no way of checking how many were above him, where they were exactly, or if they had even noticed him. It would have been nearly impossible though, as Jake’s stench was most likely exchanged for the horrendous smell of the nasty waters below. The ODST wouldn’t test it though and simply remained still as he listened.

    Slowly and steadily, the grumbling and complaining Grunts made their way over head, one even had the audacity to step on the manhole cover and caused the metal plate to ring in Jake’s ear. The man winced at the noise and pulled his helmet away for a moment so the bell that he could hear ringing could be helped to stop. When he put his ear back against the manhole, the sounds above were gone. The Trooper waited for several seconds just to make sure, but he was certain that the patrol had passed. Before he had any second thoughts, Jake reached up and gently lifted the metal cover just enough so he could peek through. When he looked out to the street, he didn’t see a single soul in any direction.

    “All clear.” Jake thought as he lifted the cover and quietly placed it down onto the pavement. Swiftly, he exited the sewers, replaced the cover, and vanished back into the alleyways which he had used before. Rather than just run away, Jake quickly checked behind himself and scanned for any curious Covenant. Seeing none, he twirled around and continued on his way back into the shadows.

    If Jake wanted his second plan to work, he’d have to get creative. He would also have to get more proactive. With that in the back of his head, Jake drew out his silenced pistol. The Covenant had an army and Jake had four clips for his pistol, and five cartridges for his sniper. It was time to make some silent noise.

[iamsteelius]

Private Jacob Alenan, UNSC Marines, 7th Marines

In a pelican, six stories up

Right after the EMP 

    Jacob slowly opened his eyes, tightly clutching his harness. He looked around to see the interior of the pelican, mostly intact, excluding a small fire coming from within an unhinged panel. He looked around, seeing he was the only one awake. Good, he thought, don’t feel like taking orders right now. He unlatched himself, scrounging for ammo and gear, whilst cursing Pelicans, pilots, the UNSC and actual pelicans. Once armed with a fully loaded DMR, two pistols (one hidden), and three grenades, he walked toward the cockpit of the Pelican. Seeing both pilots out of action, one dead and the other unconscious, he opened the bay door.

    He stepped out, noticing he was in an office building. They were snugly buried in the building, resting in the middle of the floor. Nothing there was worth taking, so he began waking the live soldiers. Everyone in his squad was alive, somehow. The Sergeant began giving out orders as soon as Jacob came back from waking the co-pilot and congratulating him on keeping them alive. “Alright, so as far as I can tell, we have zero technology, zero communications and a hell of a lot of problems. Wolfram, you make sure the pilot is okay and mobile. Deacon, Alenan, head to the roof and give us an idea of where we are. Alpert and I will check the building and see if we’re clear.”

Jacob nodded and ran for the stairs, waiting for Deacon. As soon as Jacob saw him, he advanced up the stairs, all 8 more floors. Once reaching the rooftop door, he stopped, checked his weapon and waited for Deacon, two stories down. Deacon reached him and sputtered, “Slow down, will you?” Jacob simply nodded and opened the door, clearing the roof, which was vacant. He walked to the lip off the building, where Deacon said exactly what he was thinking. “Shit. Not even two miles away from all those Covies.”

    Deacon began switching out his scopes, his electric one dead. “Go to the Sergeant and tell him what’s up.” Jacob went back down the stairs, thinking to himself. This is an absolute mess. We either need to regroup with others or find a way out. Once back on the sixth floor, he saw the pilot was up and holding a magnum. The Sergeant began talking again, after hearing Jacob’s news. “We need to get organized and connect with other Marines. We go south.”

    Deacon came out of the stairwell, bearing more news. “I saw a *cough cough* flare. Green. I think it’s a *wheeze* rendezvous point. It was due southwest. ” He clutched a nearby desk, coughing. “Not good.” He hit the floor, on his hands and knees. Wolfram ran to him, helping him up. He did a once over on him, whereas Deacon groaned and muttered.

    Wolfram, looked at them, saying, “Two broken ribs, concussion and a pierced lung, probably collapsed.” Jacob looked at him, almost skeptical. Wolfram shook his head, “I’ve been in a lot of bar fights and I dropped out of medical school. I would’ve been a medic, ‘cept they didn’t trust me with that many drugs.”

    Deacon broke in, his breathing heavy, “I can point directions and whatnot. Can’t really do much else.” Alpert slung an arm under him, and started it to walk him to the Pelican to rest against it. “So what’s the plan, Sergeant?”

    The Sergeant stood tall, barking commands, “Alpert, you’re helping him out as we move through the streets. Deacon, you guide. I’ll be point, Deacon will be right behind with the pilot, Coshram. Alenan you trail behind us. Let’s get moving.” They grabbed their gear and began setting out.


Major Kig-Yar Nak

Covenant Army

Scattered

“… And so now, we’re in the middle of nowhere, half of us are unarmed, all by ourselves, and now it’s raining.” Heq just kept complaining, every since touchdown. Heq and Lir had nothing, whilst Top had a Needler and Nak had his Needler Rifle, whereas Zax held a piece of metal dangerously. Nak looked at Top, and simply gestured toward her.

    “IF YOU DON’T STOP WHINING, WE WILL BE FOUND AND IF THAT HAPPENS, YOU WILL END UP DEAD. AND DON’T BELIEVE FOR A SECOND I WON’T LEAVE YOUR CORPSE ON THIS DISGUSTING ROCK CALLED A PLANET.” Top boomed venomously, which for anything besides Kig-Yar, sounded like a large bird squawking. He turned back a round and continued, walking with Nak, pleased that he shut up Heq.

    They continued trudging through the alleyways for thirty minutes until they heard gunfire, both Needles and Human Ballistics. The file hid near a dumpster, waiting for the gunfire to end. Once it did, he looked out of the alley to see two humans, one injured but operational continuing away, and several dead Unggoy. Nak looked back at his file and whispered, “I see two humans ahead. We are going to shadow them. No noise whatsoever, else ways Top shuts you up.”

    Nak began leading the file down the streets and alleys, moving like whispers. He was thankful all these other Kig-Yar were new, allowing Nak to make stories of Top, giving him a fearsome atmosphere, when in reality he only kills human because that’s his job. He hasn’t contempt for anything. Later, the two humans led them to a much larger group of people, though not seemingly organized or in any real state of control. Nak gulped, and slid behind cover, nearly a block away. He looked around at his file and nodded. Heq eyed Top cautiously, saying, “I’m not complaining, but neither Lir nor I have weapons.”

    Top growled for effect, but Nak handed Lir his rifle and lifted a nasty looking piece of metal and handed it to Heq. She nodded and Nak pulled out two energy cutlasses. “We move up on my command. Steel yourselves and fight hard,”Nak said to his file, then turned to Top and whispered,“ was anything you said earlier true?”

    Top grimaced, chcked his weapon and murmured, “Not a word of it.” The Kig-Yar began stealthy advancing to the humans, out of sight and silent as possible.

Use yellow to indicate other PCs, even if they're the enemy.
-Martial

[Martial Virtue]

Lieutenant Colonel Adrienne Jackson, UNSC Marines

City of Refuge

On the move

Lieutenant Colonel Jackson, her aide, and the small group of Army soldiers made it just a few paces ahead before the senior officer swayed again. Both Costigan and Daly noticed, and decided to treat her right away, despite her protests that they needed to get back to the crashsite ASAP.

"Ma'am, go ahead and have a seat," Daly said to her, rifling through her pack for a penlight. "Sergeant Costigan said you've been showing signs of head injury from the crash. I'd like to check it out, if I may."

Jackson huffed a little but eventually nodded, taking a seat on a nearby pile of debris about chair height, and carefully slipped off her helmet to expose her black hair. It was done up in a tight bun but sweaty from running around. 

"How're you feeling?" the medic asked her as she crouched in front of the LTC.

"Like someone's been drilling in my skull all day."

"That's not unusual. Are you dizzy? Have feelings of faintness? Nausea? Blurry vision?"

Adrienne snorted. She'd had several within the last hour. "Dizzy for sure. The street's been...uncooperative with my feet most of the time we've been out here. I tripped over my own damn boots once."

"Right. Let me check your pupils, ma'am."

"Go ahead."

The medic started out by flashing the penlight directly in Jackson's left eye, then moved on to her right. After that she clicked it off and stuffed it back in her pocket. "Okay, ma'am. Now, I'm going to hold up my index finger. I want you to follow it with your eyes without moving your head, if you can."

"Got it."

Daly held her finger up straight in front of Jackson's face, slowly moving it from side to side, then up and down. Adrienne had a hard time following the movement. It made her head spin...and it was starting to make her feel sick.

"How's that?" Daly asked her.

"Honestly...it's making me nauseous," the lieutenant colonel admitted.

"Yeah. I could tell you had a tough time tracking my finger while it moved." The medic stood to her full height, which wasn't much - certainly shorter than Jackson herself, who stood at five feet, eight inches. "Well, ma'am, I'm sorry to say it looks like you've got a moderate concussion. Normally I'd tell you to sit this one out, but I realize you can't. So just...be sure you've always got someone on your six, and be aware of your limitations. If things get real bad, I'd say try your best to stay out of things altogether. Till then, be careful not to hit your head again so you don't make yourself worse. Try to not rattle your brain near explosions, either."

Adrienne almost laughed. "Easier said than done, soldier."

"Yes, ma'am. I know. But it's important for your health to at least attempt to observe the guidelines."

"Acknowledged." Jackson touched the side of her head gingerly, as if to make sure it were still in one piece on the outside, then made like the medic and stood, pushing her helmet back on her head. "Thanks for the check-up, Doc. Appreciate it."

"Happy to help, Colonel."

"Now we've got to get back to the rest of my Marines and get them shipshape, too."

"Of course."

Adrienne had stood there less than thirty seconds before Costigan appeared.

"Ma'am? What's the verdict?"

"Moderate concussion," she answered. "I've got orders from the medic to take it easy for a while."

A corner of Costigan's lips curled upward. "You can tell she doesn't know you that well, ma'am."

"I know. I'll do what I can. That's all I can promise." She fixed her gaze on her subordinate now. "The rest?"

"Ready to roll, Colonel. We're ready at your command."

"Okay." The lieutenant colonel hefted her battle rifle in her hands once more and sighed. "Then we get back to the Pelican. After that, we set out again to find Ramos. And somehow, I've got to try to get into contact with Colonel Killinger if I can as well." She thought a moment, racking her muddled brain for the information she needed - her CO's projected location based on the drop and Pelican he was in. "They'll be deeper in the city," she finally added. "If we want to get there before things get much worse, we'd better start moving."

"Right."

They'd only just begun to move when Costigan grimaced. Adrienne knew that look; he must've heard something out of the ordinary on approach. He quickly moved closer to the lieutenant colonel to cover her.

"Ma'am, I heard something. I think we've got more Covies out here."

[BasedGoody]

Sergeant Garret Gizinski

"Huh?" Garret snapped back to attention, "Oh, shit, yeah, what company I'm in? That's a great question, but does it really matter? The 'plan' has gone absolutely shit because of this 'EMP'. The rest of my squad is downstairs." The Sergeant stood still for a second before turning to the previously mentioned flare. "Alright, let's head out. MARINES," He blurted out towards is two men, "Help the wounded." They nodded and ran to the injured. "We have extra supplies down there, a lot of KIA'd. I'll be on the ground floor getting my men ready."

Spec-Ops Unggoy Wub-Wub

"Dammit! What is happening?" Giddud growled, smashing his lifeless Plasma Pistol into the ground. The group was in an alley with Yecath, the Sangheili in charge, peering out into the street. From what Wub-Wub had gathered, the Artifact had gone off and screwed over everyone, the electronics were out, but worst of all the Spec Ops were completely visible without their camo. All plasma based weaponry was down. Luckily Wub's Needler and Yecath's Needle Rifle were fully operative.

The streets were mostly clear, not once was a human seen. Hopefully they all burned like the heretics they are in the fiery inferno of their air vehicles. Wub smiled at the thought. He stood himself up and started towards the Sangheili. Suddenly Yecath dropped to his knees and held out his hand behind him. Wub-Wub stepped back in confusion before dropping to the ground right after him.

"Humans." The team leader growled. "Survivors." Wub pulled out his Needler. "Three. We can take them. I can take them. Wub stood up along with the rest of the file and watched the filth walking.

"Three... Two..." Wub tensed his body as Yecath spoke, "ONE!" He yelled as the file burst out of their cover. Wub focused himself on one marine who's eyes widened in fear. The Unggoy let loose four Needles that all embedded themselves into the creatures abdomen. He peered to his right to find Yecath inflicting a fatal kick to a Marine's head, causing an audible crack and an unfortunate twisting of a neck. The three weaponless Unggoy leaped onto the last human.

Gup dove and took out his legs causing him to fall forwards, Giddud struggled to grab on of his hands while Dip snagged the other. Gupdup moved off of his legs and sat on the human's chest, slowly placing his hands around the filth's neck, squeezing the air out of it. The thing gurgled and chocked, flailing his legs upwards.

Wub turned back to the human he shot to see him on his knees attempting to lift up his weapon. The Major growled and leaped on top of him, driving it to the ground. He lifted up his Needler and smashed his blunt underside onto the creature's head. Blood seeped out of the thing's nose and it's eyes were filled with fear. Wub-Wub lifted it and brought it down again, leaving a dent on the human's forehead. Then he lifted it up, and brought it down again, and again... And again...

[Arbiter124]

Hunter Knight
UNSC Marines
Private
Moments before EMP wave

"Fifty credits I kill a Scrawny." Hunter smiled, cradling his assault rifle in his hands. Andre let out a hoarse laugh and shook his head. Hunter just gave him an offended look, but the larger marine couldn't have cared less. The private looked toward Chaz, who had his own smile on his face, and Riley was suppressing her grin. Even James shook his head.

"What? I'm a trained soldier." Hunter spat at his fireteam.

"Yeah, a trained soldier who hasn't even killed a grunt yet! You don't got nothin', Hunter. Maybe a Grunt, but not a Jackal." Andre grinned.

It took Hunter a brief three seconds to connect the mainstream terms for those aliens to his own: Toddler and Jackal.  Once he had though, he looked back at Andre with a defensive glare, but shook it off, relaxed his muscles and leaned back, closing his eyes and giving a closed smile.

"First time, for everything, gentlemen. First time for everything."

"Not like you've got that many kills either, Andre." Chaz commented, which earned a silent 'Fuck Off' expression from Andre. Andre had killed three Toddlers and one Scrawny back on the jungle planet. A large feat for one soldier, especially at Andre's tier of a rookie. However, Chaz was one of the best marksmen Hunter knew, and quite the elite soldier. As such, Chaz has earned about a dozen lives in his killcount, and as such, has a right to be arrogant. Riley holds two toddlers in her killcount, and James holds around two dozen, and he's the only one in the group to kill a Shark.

"Settle down, guys." James leaned in, his hard and chizzled features serious as usual. "It's not a competition. We're a team, and a victory for one, is a victory for all. I'd like to make sure you are all one hundred percent aware of that. Competition on the field is death for a marine." The Corporal merely said those words before sitting back in his seat, letting that sink in for the rest of the team.

"A little competition is healthy boss-" Hunter's words were drowned out by the screaming, demonic groan of a failing engine. A wave of a beautiful emerald color spread throughout the ship, but the light was fleeting, gone within milliseconds of its arrival, and the private's gloved hands took hold of the sides of his seat.

"Shit, shit, shit..." Hunter murmured as he felt the pelican spin out of control, wildly. He closed his eyes, and opened them to see a horrendous mess of chewed food and light liquid splat next to him as Andre projectile vomited. Hunter did nothing to dodge the splash of liquidized food, his only concern being his life at the moment.

"SHIIIIIIIT!" Chaz's shrill voice screamed through the pelican as they kept spiraling.

The impact was harsh, and Hunter was thrown about, only still kept in place and alive by the bar strapping him to his seat. His arm's still flailed about wildly, and his assault rifle slung around him smacked him in the nose, hard. He became stunned and disoriented as the pelican hit an unflat surface and was shot into the air again, this time flipping over midair before smashing into the world, upside down. They kept skidding along, fast, and Hunter fell unconscious from another hit of his weapon.

...

...

...

"What... the hell..." The word were weak, groaning whispers as Hunter Knight's fluttered open and closed. He tried to shake the feeling off, and he attempted to figure out his position. It took him a surprisingly long time to figure out he was stuck in his seat, strapped in, upside down. His arms were dangling, and his firearm was swinging in his face.

Hunter looked toward his seatbelt, and groggily unsheathed his combat knife. He pressed the serrated blade against the seat belt, and moved it back and forth. The seatbelt gave way in moments, and Hunter was sent down. He attempted a fetal position fast, but failed to succeed. He did save himself from snapping his neck, instead smashing the small of his back on the ground. He huffed as he made contact with the roof, and then slumped to his side, gasping for breath.

"Oh, fuck..." Were the only words he could muster as he tried to regain an idea on his whereabouts. He pressed his palms against the roof and pushed himself onto his knees, grabbing hold of his rifle and aiming it around to dark room. He clicked on the flashlight, to see his team all dangling, all alive.

"That's reassuring..." Hunter sighed and he staggered to his feet, and stumbled over to the pilot seat. He looked up into the cockpit, to see the torn through the middle face of the pilot, dangling from his own seat. Hunter closed his eyes in disgust and exited the cockpit quickly, falling back onto his knees as the pain set in.

"Agh! What the fu... Agh!" Hunter snarled as his back and legs exploded into a sore pain, the most extreme feeling he had ever encountered. He clutched his thighs, and began taking deep breaths, trying to remain calm.

"Hu... Hunter...?" Riley's weak voice called through the darkness. Hunter managed to flash a light on her, and she squinted, raising a hand to block the powerful light.

"Look who's laughin' now..." Hunter smiled, but that was replaced by a look of pain as he clutched his back, before looking back at Riley

"... Let's... get you outta' there."

Roc
Skirmisher Creche
Creche Captain
Moments before EMP

Sparks were kicked off of the metal floor as Roc's clawed boots scraped along the floor of the mall. The Skirmisher was flanked by two minors, one carrying a plasma pistol, the other holding the semi automatic marksman class needle rifle. Roc himself carried a plasma pistol. They were moving after a small vehicle that two humans were riding, one standing on the back and the other driving. They were surprisingly able to keep it in their sights, possibly because the building's debris and decorations made it near impossible for them to drive straight and pick up speed.

However, this was a Skirmisher's environment.

Roc and the other two gracefully leaped and vaulted soda machines, couches, and other human accessories as they pursued their targets.

"Don't let them leave the building!" Roc snarled as the doors came into view. He looked to his left, and the Minor nodded without making eye contact, raising his rifle. The pink muzzle flashes exploded at the razor sharp needles flew through the air, shattered on the ground, walls, and sides of the mongoose.

"Are you an idiot!?!" Roc crowed. He pushed the Skirmisher out of his lane and hopped onto a soda machine, taking no time to lose momentum as he leaped off of it. As he sailed through the air like some sort of acrobat, his sidearm was charged, ready to release and inferno of EMP. He struggled to aim the weapon perfectly, but knew it could sail itself fairly well on its own, and took a general aim towards them, firing. As he fired, his hand blew into a painful heat, and the Captain through away his pistol. His talons clicked against the ground in almost a whisper as he tucked his knees, fell into a roll, and come out on one knee, one hand's finger tips touching the ground. The Golden Skirmisher's head clicked upwards to see the ATV smash through the glass door, and start spiraling out of control wildly, before skidding to a stop on its side. Roc grinned, and the two Minors trotted up to him.

"Hand me that." Roc said, taking the Skirmishers plasma pistol for himself as he turned and jogged into the parking lot. The sun was past midday, but not yet sunset. Roc stood as tall as he could, his Golden Armor glistening like a knight's in the suns rays.

The two marines stood up, aiming their guns, but Roc was just as quick to aim his pistol, and they stood in a standoff.

Roc glared at the marine in front, wanting to fire his weapon. He needed to wait for the perfect time.

An emerald green flashed over the environment for less than a second, but it was enough to catch Roc's attention. He decided it must have been nothing more than a trick of the light. However, the Marine seemed to let the same thing gain his attention.

Window.

Roc pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. No plasma, but not even a signature that the weapon had run out of ammo.

Roc looked at the weapon in his hand. "What...?

Blam!

The semi automatic rifle fired in the Human's grasp, and the bullet bounced off of the side of Roc's helmet, sending sparks flying through the air. Roc screeched wildly, and was back in action in mere seconds. He closed the distance between him and the two marines like it was nothing, one easy leap. His taloned boot skimmed the closer marines arm, and his weapon went flying. Roc came skidding to a halt, and charged the second Marine on all fours, like some sort of rabid animal. He made contact, grasping the two arms of the human, and his superior strength pinned him to the ground. Roc's crocodile jaws clamped onto the neck of the soldier, and he didn't even have time for a good scream as warm blood filled the Captain's mouth and he tore the soldier's throat out. He spit it out, letting the fleshy tubes splatter next to the dying marines face.

Roc turned around as quick as he could, and saw the other marine, now holding the rifle. Roc took no time to register his surroundings before he leaped at the marine again.

He was around seven yards away from the marine when he heard one of his men scream 'Captain!' and a large explosion before his vision switched to darkness.

[Martial Virtue]

***City Structural Damage Update***

In addition to the many UNSC Army personnel and civilians on the planet, the urban landscape of the city of Refuge had also become a victim of the vicious Covenant assault. Several buildings that had stood solid for years came crashing down under the onslaught, either partial or whole, causing a noxious cloud of dust and debris to flow outward toward the rest of the city. The cloud was unabated until it had swept through at least a half dozen blocks.

A high-rise apartment complex that many of the arriving UNSC Marines had chosen to congregate around was one such building - and it certainly hadn't helped the now-unstable foundation when a Pelican had plummeted onto its rooftop.

Gradually, the structure began to lose its shape, bit by bit. The building finally gave a loud groan and shuddered violently, giving just a small bit of warning to those nearby that it was about to drop.

Then it all came tumbling down in one swoop.

***

UNSC forces around the high-rise apartment are now engulfed in a large gray cloud of debris that is impossible to see through for the moment. Several streets, buildings, and nearby alleys are completely inaccessible now due to the structure's collapse.

It is possible for your characters to have survived, but you are once again scattered, albeit in a shorter radius, and must deal with potential casualties/obstacles from the collapse. You must also wait for the cloud to dissipate to have direct line of sight of anything more than a few feet away. 

[deceit]

Ra'ab remained at the bottom of the overturned APC for a few moments, catching his breath, and using the cover to protect against the human's counter-assault, if any. He saw several pink needles fly high above him in rapid succession, and heard the sound of footsteps hitting the pavement in the opposite direction. On the other side of the vehicle, a loud groaning could be heard, coupled with whimpering and some small screaming. It slowly began to dissipate into a quiet, tear-filled moan. Ra'ab pushed himself off from the chassis of the APC he was leaning against and turned around, climbing the end of it by putting his one arm at the top and lifting himself up, throwing a leg along it and propelling himself to crouch atop the indented frame of the overturned vehicle like some devious predator scouring the land for prey.

He saw Micky laying half crushed under the vehicle, blood covering his body from the mulching the vehicle had done to his legs. The weight adjustments of Ra'ab standing atop the vehicle caused Micky to awaken from his stupor, and he looked up and screamed.

Ra'ab did not know much English. Just a small bit of what he had picked up fighting them,

"Where?" he hissed out, but the human clearly did not understand him. It must have just sounded like a predator bristling with hate and excitement.

"WHERE?!" He yelled again, trying to enunciate again.

"AHHHHh. JUST KILL ME ALREADY! PLEASE?! PLEASE JUST KILL ME!" Micky screamed in pain.

Ra'ab turned around as he heard the noise of footsteps. Ransy and the Unggoy file coming up behind him, "victory?" Ransy asked.

Ra'ab nodded slowly. The Kig-Yar file came walking up the white concrete side-walk, glancing from side to side. Reevar was not with them. Torbit seemed to be holding a strange human rifle. Any human would know that it was a bolt action hunting rifle, hardly fit for military use but when you have no weapons anything made you feel comfortable. He had 1 shell inside and 5 shells in a pouch along his equipment pouch.

"Do you know how to use that thing?" Ra'ab asked.

"Cock. Load. Point. Pull." Torbit shrugged.

A low mirthful chuckle came from Ra'ab, he pointed at the dropped assault rifle, "Scavenge, ye scavengers." He ordered. Lebit gratefully sauntered over to the mangled puddle of blood.

Jib hissed at Ra'ab, "Can I silence this fool, already? Humans went down the alley. We should return to base."

Ra'ab looked down at the whimpering human. He jumped from the vehicle. His large left heel dug into the human's face upon landing. It was a morbid and disgusting sight, but it was fast, and Ra'ab had no weapons on him to ease the human's suffering a more refined way. He took no pleasure in the task. "health status?" He asked of his file.

"Tansy wounded." Ra'ab scraped the bits and pieces off of his boot heel, clacking back around the APC to see his Unggoy file. Tansy was slowly coming forward, a bullet wound in his side.

Suddenly a noise to their right. Everyone turned to see a cloud of debris jump up the air as a building a few blocks away collapsed.(this is not the building Mrs. Martial mentioned, as they are quite a bit farther than that.)

"This city is quickly becoming destabilized. We should return to base to get new orders. We may have the artifact and be ready to pull out, now." Jib mentioned, hoping Ra'ab would turn back for base.

"How is the stability of the building Reevar is shooting from?" Ra'ab asked.

"Three stories. Seems stable. Looks like about 20 homes just on the second floor. Why?" Jib responded.

"We will take shelter there, to check on Tansy's wounds, before continuing back to base. Scour the rooms for supplies. More weapons."