[Mission] On Burning Wings (Open RP)

[NinjaBoss]

ODST Corporal Moe Keating
Novus IV, Arkaus, Market Plaza
0350 Hours
The Long Night

    Moe’s fingers grew colder as he and the sniper Suzanna Smirnov combed the ruins of the city’s market plaza. Farther away from the firefight and the plasma bombardment now, the outside temperatures were returning to their natural, frigid state. If the two ODST’s weren’t fully encased in armor their breath could probably be seen with every exhale. Gripping his M392 tightly in both hands, Moe’s eyes absorbed the information displayed by his VISR that turned the faceplate into a sort of computer screen. Objects in the vicinity were given an outline that was colored based on the software’s perceived significance of the item in question.

    Destroyed vehicles, dumpsters, discarded warfare equipment and what was left of the buildings in the plaza were displayed in an orange outline, while telephones, data terminals, and other communication equipment were shown in yellow. Blue would indicate usable equipment or medical supplies, and enemies (or really anything moving without an IFF transponder) would show up in red. But the two soldiers were hoping instead to see the color green, the color given to friendlies. Moe silently thanked the UNSC for his VISR, knowing that rescuing and evacuating anyone still in the area would be unfathomably more difficult without it. As it was they still had not come across any other living thing, and Moe was still trying to decide whether they were unlucky for not finding anyone or lucky for avoiding the Covenant.

    Activating the navigation parameter on the VISR database gave him access to all of the tactical data in the immediate area that the UNSC still possessed. With very few ships left to continue the fight and most of the orbital satellites destroyed or inoperable, that wasn’t much, but thankfully he was able to keep an eye on the Covenant forces pushing against the Marine platoons as they were preparing to initiate the retreat. Red diamonds numbering in the hundreds clustered together at a sort of rendezvous point not far behind the front line. Watching the enemies gather in preparation for attack gave Moe renewed motivation to continue and finish the search for his missing squad mates and anyone else left in the area.

    The two ODST’s rounded a corner, Moe slowly stepping into the openness of the alley ahead of him while Lance Corporal “Deadshot” Smirnov stood several paces behind him, her SRS99 hunting for anything hostile in the area. Immediately, the two shock troopers caught the faint green glow of a black shape in the darkness. With the capabilities of the VISR it did not take long for them to make out the unmistakable armor of a fellow ODST, slumped against the wall or hidden in the darkness. Moe had to fight the urge to rush to the soldier’s side, and instead cautiously moved forwards while observing the area for anything untoward.

    Upon reaching his fellow trooper the feeling of fear gripped Moe’s chest, the fear of losing another comrade in battle. Even after experiencing painful loss as a child he still had not learned how to let go. The people who jumped with Moe into hell kept him alive, and if they were all to die then he would surely die as well. Moe had lost his reasons to live a long time ago, and every time he replaced them with someone else the Covenant took them away.

    Suddenly his thoughts were shattered by a sharp, raspy cough from the trooper against the wall. Nearly to his side by now, Moe lowered his weapon and dropped to a crouching position to better assess the situation. The trooper was holding his chest, and dark spots of blood dripped from the sharp protruding edge of a pink hued crystalline shard that looked like luminous stained glass.

    “Shit, he’s hit!” Moe exclaimed over his radio to Deadshot, who moved forwards to assist with medical attention, if possible. The lanky, wounded ODST looked up at his squad mates and Moe recognized the armor of Private Xavier “Santa” Santiago, the newest addition to Sergeant Miller’s fireteam along with Private Joseph “Dougie” Douglas, who Moe had seen executed by jackal snipers only moments after exiting his SOEIV. Moe felt a wave of dismay as he realized that left the possibility of only three members of Sergeant Miller’s fireteam remaining combat effective, and there was a decent likelihood something had happened to them as well.

    “Christmas is gonna have to wait”, Santa joked with his usual sense of humor that was mostly considered awful by his squad mates. Another wet cough soured the moment, and Moe imagined blood splattered on the inside of Santa’s faceplate.

    “Relax, private,” Deadshot reassured the wounded soldier as she began preparing a can of biofoam for insertion into the wound. The can made a sound similar to a shaving cream or spray paint as she shook it furiously.

    “No need,” Santa replied with a shake of his hand, and gestured towards the rough edges of an already applied layer of biofoam in the wound. A spent can could be seen on the ground about a meter away.

    “Anyway,” the trooper paused to cough again, “it won’t do me much good in the end if we don’t get this damn thing out of my chest soon. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you brought a corpsman with you?”

Major John Maxime André
Novus IV, Arkaus, sewers beneath Residential District B - Graytown
0355 Hours
Rosetta Stone

    The faces of the members of Major André’s squad wore a rough mix of angry, shocked, and intrigued expressions as the jackal they had stumbled across attempted to respond. None of the humans could understand any of the words, but it only took a moment for the damaged helmet that John was holding to attempt a translation.

    “Uns ssakor thu dead drop troop oombassi. Killed bah sniper…. friend.” The jackal’s head tilted as he spoke, and John noticed that the helmet was not providing a full translation, though he was unaware if it was because the UNSC did not understand enough of the language or because of damage to the helmet’s software systems. “Yun das nay appros UNC. Esss Sssoka strike force?”

    Major André thought for a moment about what he had heard. Dead drop troop, he thought. The jackal must have retrieved the helmet from a killed ODST. Killed by the jackal’s friend? Perhaps. He didn’t understand the next few words, but then there were what seemed like letters. UNC? Perhaps the jackal meant UNSC. And then the last words, strike force. Does he think we’re a strike force?

    “What do we do with him, Major André?” Sergeant Borisov’s voice broke Major André’s train of thought, and he did not know what to say. What should we do with him? John thought, before deciding to try to communicate again. Perhaps the helmet could say something back to the jackal in its own language.

    “Well, he’s not our enemy, and he doesn’t seem hostile. Maybe he could prove useful.” John replied to his second in command, the man who he trusted most. Then, gesturing to the helmet in his hands, he continued, “And now we have one of these things to play with. Wanna see what it can do, Rurik?”

    Major André donned the helmet at this time, and it fit uncomfortably around his head. The faceplate displayed a range of data, including a notification about damage to the internal systems. It took a minute or two for John to figure out how to even interact with the thing, but when he did it did not take him long to find what he was looking for. Interrogation mode. John couldn’t help but wonder why they outfitted ODST’s with interrogators even as he was thankful that they did, for now at least.

    “No, we are not UNSC. We are intelligence operatives for the United Rebel Front. We fight for independent autonomy, and today, for survival.” The helmet uttered a series of deep, warbling noises that did not sound quite like what the jackal had spoken to the rebels. John nervously hoped that at least some of it would be intelligible to the avian alien.

[Faclan]

Poc - Ruuthian Spotter
Residential B sewers
Time to join the rebels?

Thankfully the pink glowing eyes were now used to the dim light down here from the darkness before so Poc now had both his arms lowered. Occasionally rubbing his hands together or tapping his wrists as he waited for the verdict. The humans at least still looked confused or interested. Well all except the female with the shotgun. She was still glaring death at him as she stood to his side. And with his eyes pretty weighted to the sides of his long skull he could easily still see her drumming her fingers on the pump handle of the shotgun as she seemed to wait for the order to blow his skull open. The eye on the other side of his head spotting another Human there holding their blocky rifle in one hand as they took a drink. Hopefully she could see that shooting his head at this position would likely hit her ally. She would hopefully not fire due to that fact. Hopefully.

But he tried to keep his eyes mostly forward as he had a feeling that the Humans likely didn't like him staring at them that much with his glowing eyes. Especially the female. And more words were exchanged before the older human put the helmet on his head. Was he being robbed? Well ummm - better than dying at least. He could still see the face through the damaged faceplate as it wasn't darkening properly as he seemed to be looking around for something. Checking out his new fashion accessory. Poc was tempted to reach for his own rations as they all seemed to be waiting here for something. But he suspected the Humans would be jumpy if he suddenly reached for something from his back or belt so he gulped a took a breath. This was going fine so far. Lets keep it that way.

"No - no military. We secret operations of Complete Heretic Start. We battle for individual leadership. And now. For life." The helmet spit at him in rather aggressive sounding robotic Sangheili. Making Poc blink as he leaned back before returning to a more neutral position as he clicked and nodded. So they were the human rebels he had heard about back on his asteroid home. What luck it was them and not the green bastards. But it spoke in Sangheili. He knew it of course with it being forced down his throat but that was to receive orders. Not for speaking it back. Licking his teeth before he attempted to respond. But it would be clear to the Innies that this was not something that just rolled off the tongue.

"Happy to meet heretic ones," he tried in Sangheili. "How can me help so me no die?" At least they seemed to be getting somewhere. "Friend kill up up." Pointing up at the muffled rumbling of former battle. "Grand Leader think I kill two. I help you. New squad family." Hey they hadn't killed him yet maybe he could even survive this?

[Remnant]

SGT Gary MacAddy, “Checkmate 1-2” - Charlie Company, 2-218th Marine Regiment, UNSCMC
Novus IV, "Nyx" - Capital City "Arkaus", Market Plaza - Commercial District
0355 Hours
Charlie Foxtrot

    Drip, drip, drip. A very light rain drizzled from the deep black sky, as a cool mist moved in shortly after. MacAddy shivered, the frozen teardrops soaking his BDUs without warning. The steady, rhythmic rainfall picked up pace and started washing away the bloodsoaked streets. A mixture of Human and alien blood flowed into the storm drains under the sidewalks, but nothing could wash away the heavy gore left behind. Corpses littered the area, some spread out and some slumped together in gruesome piles. Internal organs and dismembered body parts were scattered along the visceral battlefield. What casualties that remained alive struggled to fight for their fleeting lives, the freezing night already claiming a few lost souls. For a weak-willed person, the traumatic sight would be too much to bear. MacAddy stuffed his feelings - and, perhaps, his Humanity with it - deep down, locking them inside a vault. He had a mission to accomplish, he couldn’t let fear or remorse get in the way. Slapping another magazine in his MA5C, MacAddy chambered a round and peeked over his jersey barrier. The Covenant had been pushed back momentarily, but they were already regrouping for another push. Grunts and Jackals chanted into the night as their Elite leaders rallied them with war-cries and rousing speeches. The night became filled with the thump of their boots as they stomped in time to their chants, like the beat of a drum guiding a grand march of death and destruction. MacAddy silently prayed once more.

    “Checkmate Red 2, Blue 7, over.” MacAddy heard over the net, opening his eyes.

    “Blue 7, Red 2, send traffic.” MacAddy replied.

    “We’ve got sights on your position, Checkmate White is circling around. What’s the status of Red 6, over?”

    “Red 6 and 7 confirmed KIA, Red 1 is presumed MIA."

    “And Red 3?”

    “Red 3 is on site with heavy casualties, Red 2 is REDCON 1.”

    “Roger, hang tight. Reinforcements on the way, out.”

    MacAddy breathed a sigh of relief. What remained of First Platoon wasn’t alone after all, as both 2nd and 3rd Platoon had snuck around the fortified Covenant position, ready to ambush them from both sides. Charlie Company, while not anywhere near combat effective, would at least have a much better chance to reassemble and execute a proper tactical retreat. The marines held their ground, opening fire as the Covenant forces relentlessly pushed forward and closed in on their position. As Boujetiff opened up a volley of automatic fire with his MK-280, MacAddy felt the world around him become silent. His hearing faded out, until all he heard was his own breathing. The beat of his heart slowed as the blood in his ears flowed in and out. A very loud ringing manifested itself as he stared blankly at the ground. Corpsman Keaton’s lightless eyes had already glazed over, a trickle of blood dripping from her lips. Her head faced the darkened sky, forever watching from an eternal slumber. Yet her body faced the cold, hardened ground - a mangled and twisted mess. MacAddy didn’t know how to feel. Remorse? She was already dead, there was nothing he could do. Another casualty in an endless war. Could it even be called a war? It was a fight for survival. Not just for himself, but for all of Humanity. MacAddy turned his empty gaze to Alpha Team’s leader. His former - now dead - subordinate, Lance Corporal Kallighan. He’d never truly considered the once-Corporal a friend. The man was brash, arrogant and irresponsible. But seeing him like this - lifeless, alone and on a broken, dying world - MacAddy didn’t know how to feel. Anger? The Covenant was ruthless. No amount of hatred would stop their unstoppable march. Whatever hatred Humanity felt for the Covenant was doubled in reflection by the sheer zealotry of their genocide. No amount of anger or hate would sate their wrath. For those reasons, MacAddy felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.

    MacAddy relaxed, letting his head rest against the barricade as he looked up into the darkness. His muscles ached, his lungs burned. It felt as though shards of molten glass were being pumped and circulated through his entire body, a byproduct of his Stage III Worker’s Lung disease. For what felt like a lifetime, MacAddy sat there, unmoving. In the distance, he watched as a single marine had several silent streams of green bolts violently pierce through her body, traveling down the street as hails of neon light. The marine mouthed what appeared to be a scream but MacAddy failed to hear it. She went completely limp, tumbling over onto the asphalt without a sound. A pool of blood slowly collected around her fresh corpse. Suddenly, Corporal Sullivan stood in front of MacAddy, his mouth moving but nothing coming out. Sully motioned for him, waving his hand back and forth in a ‘come here’ gesture, but MacAddy didn’t understand. Without warning, Sully fimly slapped MacAddy on the shoulder and pulled him up. Face to face, the two soldiers stared into each other's eyes. The world became louder, the ringing subsiding. MacAddy’s breathing regulated itself, the blood no longer pounding in his ears. His heartbeat picked up pace as a nearby explosion rocked the area around them, pebbles raining down from the chilled air.

    “Sarge, you still with us? MacAddy?!” Sully said, whacking MacAddy upside the head with the palm of his glove.

    “W-what?” MacAddy replied

    “You off your fuckin’ rocker? We’ve got a battle to win.”

    MacAddy turned his gaze, seeing the Covenant forces being steadily pushed back. As they crossed the intersection, they were flanked on both sides by 2nd and 3rd Platoons. With 1st Platoon pushing up the middle, the aliens were being herded southbound. It was their only avenue of escape from the well-timed ambush. MacAddy unloaded his rifle at the crowd of aliens as they trampled over one another attempting to escape the shooting gallery. It looked like the marines were winning, but MacAddy knew this was only a temporary reprieve. The time to retreat was now, before the aliens rallied their strength a final time and overran their position with superior numbers and firepower. MacAddy looked around for the ODST from earlier, Corporal Keating. Hopefully he made it back safely, but MacAddy had to initiate the retreat soon. They were out of time.

---

(NPC)
CPL Chase Jameson, “Dragon 3-3 Alpha” - Delta Company, 1-125th Ranger Regiment, UNSCDF
Novus IV, “Nyx” - Capital City Arkaus, The Sinkhole - Energy District
0400 Hours
Rangers Lead The Way!

    A nudge. Another nudge. A lick.

    ...Wait, a lick?

    Jameson opened his eyes to the sight of a stray, emaciated dog attempting to lick his face. He quickly sat up, swatting the dog away. It gave a low whine in response. Jameson rubbed his dry eyes, attempting to fully wake up from his nap. He barely got any sleep as it was. The dog whined again, impatient. Diving into his assault pack, Jameson fished out a few rations, tossing an aging beef stick to the stray. The dog voiced a low but happy bark in response. As Jameson made the move to get up, the dog disappeared just as quickly as it showed up. How it found its way into the lowest level of a parking garage, Jameson had no idea. Shaking his head, he walked over to the rest of his racked out fireteam. PFC Lee and PV2 Hughes were five sheep deep into a long sleep, one of them snoring. SPC Fernandez was still up, face glued to a datapad, replaying the same holovid over and over. His wife had sent him a video message a few weeks ago, encouraging him to keep pushing through the hell they were all neck-deep in.

    “Don’t be afraid, my love. We’ll be together again. Just keep fighting. I’m with you all the way. I’ll be here for your darkest nights, for your brightest days. No matter what, keep moving forward. Don’t you ever stop pushing. We’ll be reunited again, someday. Danny can’t wait to see you. He’s almost three now, can you believe it? He…” The video message trailed off, as Jamesome stopped listening. Fernandez was ready to give up, Jameson could see it in his eyes. They’d just found out his wife’s city had been glassed a few days ago, as the Covenant continued to swarm the planet Nyx. No word from any of the inhabitants, including the man’s wife. Best case scenario, they were all as good as dead. Worst case? Jameson heard rumors that the Covenant had been taking prisoners. Specifically the hairy beasts the UNSC called “Brutes”. They liked to play with their prey and their food. A fate worse than death. Jameson shuttered.

    “Everybody up, time to get moving.” Jameson sounded off.

    “0400 already?” PFC Lee called out.

    “Yeah, get your asses up. No rest for the wicked.”

    “Fuckin’ A.” PV2 said as the fireteam got up and prepared for movement.

    Jameson met up with his squad leader, Staff Sergeant Robertson, on the uppermost floor of the parking garage. The rooftop, if it could be called that. His fireteam trailed behind him as both Alpha and Bravo teams linked up, forming 3rd Squad. The squad looked down at the street below, a Covenant encampment taking up the entire passageway. Jameson looked across the rooftop at a building parallel with their position. Two IR flashes signaled their way from a window on the top floor. Jameson signaled two more strobes back their way. 1st Squad appeared to be up. Guiding his gaze to a two story clinic down the street, Jameson sent two more IR flashes down that way. No reply.

    “No response from Three-Two. Either they’re sleeping or they’ve been compromised.” Jameson reported to Robertson.

    “Wouldn’t be surprised if it was both.” Robertson paused. “I’ll wake ‘em up.”

    “Mother, this is Dragon 3-3. Requesting either close air support or an artillery fire mission, how copy? Over.”

    “Mother copies all. Dragon 3-3, be advised, all air units and artillery batteries are currently engaged or otherwise unavailable. We’ll keep you updated. Do what you can, out.”

    Shit. That was going to complicate a few things.

    “Uh, Sarge?” Jameson asked.

    “Yeah?” Robertson replied.

    “Did HQ just tell us to go fuck ourselves?”

    “Sounds about right. You heard them, we do what we can. See again if you can get a response from Three-Two.”

    Jameson looked towards 3-2’s last known position, the two-story clinic, and sent two IR flashes. Only one IR flash in response. That meant trouble.

    “Sarg-”

    “I saw it.” Robertson keyed up his mic. “Dragon White One, White Three, over.”

    “White Three, White One, go ahead.”

    “White Two’s compromised, they’re on your side of the line. How quickly can you get to them? Over.”

    “We’re Oscar Mike, SP time now. Send back up if you can spare it, strength of enemy opposition is unknown, over.”

    “Confirmed, sending Dragon White Three Alpha, out.”

    “Your fireteam’s up, Jameson.” Robertson spoke as soon as he got off the net.

    “Roger that, we’re Oscar Mike. Come on, gents.” Jameson said, rallying his fireteam as they descended the parking garage and snuck into an alleyway below, attempting to avoid the numerous Covenant patrols. What a day to be a Ranger, Jameson thought, shouldering his BR55.

[NinjaBoss]

ODST Corporal Moe Keating
Novus IV, Arkaus, Market Plaza
0353 Hours
I Need Somebody

    Moe was nervous. Every one of these shards that he had ever seen, “needler” rounds they were called, had quickly detonated after striking their targets, and this one was sure to do the same. Santa estimated he had been wounded for around half an hour, which meant this one was taking its damn sweet time. Any motion, any moment could set it off, and the detonation would almost certainly kill Private Santiago and at least wound anyone in close range. And Moe and Deadshot were about to pick him up.

    “Appreciate it guys’, Santa managed to say between pained gasps, and tried to smile. Moe thought he was trying to play the injury off as less serious than it was, and admired his courage. “Sergeant Miller and the others…” Santa trailed off, coughing and clutching at the wound in his chest as the words managed to shift the position of the needle.

    “Relax, Private,” Lance Corporal Smirnov repeated, her thick russian accent revealing no sign of distress or unease. Moe marveled at the way she always seemed so calm, so focused. Even under fire, in the worst situations, she was always frighteningly relaxed, as if she already knew how the day would end. If she wasn’t one of his closest companions he would be terrified of the woman, he figured. Thankfully she’s on our side.

    The two ODST’s maneuvered themselves into position beside their wounded comrade, and began to slowly lift him into the air. The ODST winced and grunted, but he did not complain, and they began to move back down the alley, in the direction they had come. Moe had seen a corpsman under Sergeant MacAddy’s command back in the plaza, and he tried to remember her name. Keating, he thought. I just hope she’s still alive.

    A chorus of alien chants joined heavy quakes in the ground that Moe could feel in his feet as he and his squadmates crossed an underpass of the empty freeway. Ballistics and plasma fire peppered the air from the bridges above, and Moe’s eyes darted between the overturned and burned out vehicles that had been abandoned on the roadway. Flashing lights, car alarms, and occasionally even a burst of music or news from the radio produced an eerie atmosphere as the streetlights struggled to keep the darkness at bay, a losing battle due to the current instability of the electrical grid. Many of the vehicles were beginning to lose all of the charge they had left, and their electrical systems failed.

    Moe breathed heavily as he and Suzanna carried Xavier to safety as carefully as they could, but he could tell that the journey was rough on his friend. Even so, the wounded marksman was determined to finish his story.

    “I was… ordered to climb up, and provide cover… we could... hear the firefight nearby, and… were looking for you,” Private Santiago managed to say between short coughing fits. “It was those damn skirmishers! Snuck up behind me on the rooftops… before I... knew what was happening... I had this damn… thing sticking out of me… Sergeant Miller fled... with Lima... Four and Five,” he used the callsigns for Lance Corporal Cousins and PFC Kowalski, respectively, “I don’t know what happened next… and we didn’t see... Lima Eight... or anyone from your team, Corporal.”

    Moe shook his head in disappointment and rage, the thought of Private Joseph Douglas, callsign Lima Eight, filling him with dread and sorrow. Moe had seen Dougie when he landed, watched him climb out of his pod… and saw the luminescent beam of energy pierce his soft flesh like a pin cushion. Moe’s team hadn’t even been able to recover Dougie’s body, and with the situation on the ground as bad as it was, he doubted they’d be able to. He won’t be the only one using what’s left of Nyx as a tombstone, Moe reminded himself.

    “Eight didn’t make it.” Moe didn’t use Private Douglas’ name. It was easier that way. “How’s that needle sitting, Santiago?”

    “Not well,” the Orbital Drop Shock Trooper admitted, “but it could be worse.” Moe figured his face would tell a different story, but all he could see was the darkness of his faceplate. Better if you don’t have to see, he told himself.

    “Try and keep it that way. We’re going up.” Lance Corporal Smirnov spoke this time, her voice as cold as ever. The troopers had reached a stairwell of concrete beneath the overpass, and braced for the ascent with their wounded comrade.


Major John Maxime André
Novus IV, Arkaus, sewers beneath Residential District B - Graytown
0400 Hours
Better than the UNSC

    "Joyous meeting treasonous loners," the jackal replied in what sounded like a different language than the one before, but John couldn’t be sure. The helmet seemed to be doing a much better job of translating this time, however. "Explain usefulness to me so I can avoid death? Allies slay above above." The jackal pointed up at what John assumed to be the muffled rumbling of battle. "The Supreme Lord believes I slay two. I will explain you. Begin pack clan." The words still didn't seem to make sense, not entirely. Apparently you can’t even count on the UNSC for their translation software, John André thought and scoffed.

    “Is he threatening us Major?” Corporal Morgan asked, and almost simultaneously Private Collinger was pointing her shotgun directly at the jackal, wide-eyed and wearing fury on her face.

    “This is our planet motherfucker!” Judith screamed so loudly that it echoed throughout the tunnel, reverberating across the sewer passages and channels. Most of the rebels froze, certain that anything else in the sewers, friendly or no, would have heard it loud and clear. Corporal Morgan turned so pale she almost glowed, Sergeant Borisov turned red with barely contained anger, and Major André swore. Most of the other soldiers reacted similarly.

    “Goddammit Private stand down!” André spoke with rage, containing himself only to retain what slivers of stealth they still had, and pushed himself between Private Collinger and the jackal. “We do not need you on this team if you are not going to respond with discipline! This is an intelligence mission for god's sake!” John was pointing back up the way they had come, indicating that she could stay behind. Still obviously angry, but now nervous as well, Private Collinger relented and turned away from the jackal. She stomped away from the group, and André let her go, knowing she needed the space.

    A sonic explosion shook the ground above them and a massive beam, thick as a pillar of gargantuan size and so bright that it hurt to look at, tore into the sewers, collapsing the tunnels around the area that Private Judith Collinger had just walked into. John didn’t see if she had been vaporized, or crushed by the collapse. But he knew that she was dead, he was certain, could feel it in his bones, didn’t even realize that the beam was coming closer-

    “Watch out Major!” Rurik bellowed and threw André will all of his strength in the direction of the jackal, and he lost his balance, falling on to the alien if it could not step out of the way in time. Chunks of concrete ricocheted off the tunnel walls, and John felt the sting of one that bit his leg. He hoped he would still be able to walk, because if not....

[Faclan]

Poc - Ruuthian Spotter
Residential B sewers
Quick! Prove you are useful!

The scream made Poc jump about four feet in the air as he landed facing the female. Hands up as that shotgun was stopped just a few inches from his head. Likely his head would be removed from his body should she fire at this range. It didn't take a translator to let him know that she had said something bad about him. And was looking for a chance to kill him. She must have been from a glassed settlement as he tried to stay still with his hands up. He wanted to turn and run, leap away, dive at her - anything really. But with her right there and her finger on the trigger any twice would mean the death of him. Just...he had to hope that the helmet human in charge told her no.

But the human did one better! He moved himself in between Poc and the female. So not only had he spared his life when they first met he had, as far as Poc was concerned, just saved his life again. Getting dangerously near the three lives rule. One more and hed have to enter a contract to be the Humans assistant for the rest of his life. Slave in the olden days but the new word really put a better spin on the role. Hed need to look for a chance that he could make the score more even. Well hed think that once the Female stormed off. In the moment he was just gazing at that shotgun barrel in the back of the human. But now that she had turned and stormed off and the situation seemed to mostly clear he remember that - shit. Any more and hed be the Humans. Oh dear.

With the female walking off however Poc took a few deep breaths and then looked at the damaged helmet as he held the end of his beak and tugged it as he bowed his head. A sign of deep respect and thanks. "Thank you much General," he started in Sangheili again. And he opened his mouth to continue before there was a massive explosion and rumble.

As he was still looking down he just noticed the Human leaders boots leave the ground. Only able to look up to see him about to bowl into him. Poc's instinct taking over as he collapsed backwards. Andre flying right over him as he collapsed back to the cold hard floor of the sewer. Smacking his head with an awk but at least he hadn't accidently slashed or stabbed his new potential owner. That would have been just poor form. Though once the dust cleared enough to see Poc looked up to see the Human had taken a pretty severe blow to his leg from the flying shrapnel. And though his head was still ringing from the impact he rolled over and cralwed to the Human. The other Innies liking spotting a large dent taken out of the back armor of his curaiss, lucky, as he moved over. Reaching back to his belt in what could easily be seen as a threatening action but thankfully the species-ist was dead!

A purple cylinder, two more left, would be removed as Poc sat up next to the leg as he twisted open the top. "No action." He hissed out before gripping the shard of rebar and yanking it out. Before like an old world ketchup bottle he upturned the cylinder and spread a cold purple blue gel over the wound. Two purple balls falling out with it took which Poc crushed and sprinkled over the gel as well. It would be cold - but no longer that painful. Though the three fingered hand would likely be an odd feeling feeling over his leg as Poc kept focusing on that. Remembering training of proper application and coverage.

"We now single to two." He managed with a head tilt as he looked from the patch job to the helmet. Now hoping that it worked on Humans too and he haddn't just poisoned him...that would be bad.

[MrKill]

CW2. Tia Young
Norvus IV
FUBAR

If her communications weren't already fried, they'd be fried now... along with the majority of her mechs systems. An entire side had been essentially stripped of armor, machinery, gears and guns yet the MANTIS was still operational. Officially the DAMREP was reporting she'd maintained firepower, all four M68 'GAUSS CANNONS' were still technically attached, but the power required to charge all four of them simply wasn't there.

Yeah, she was operational alright, but barely operational; she'd won the fight against the hunter, but she knew that particular battle was over, yet Marines were already preparing to retreat as she slowly limped her ravaged walking tank back towards friendly lines. They didn't know it, how could they, but she had to choose where her power was being allocated. It was taking everything the MANTIS had left just to get back towards friendly faces, she'd have to go completely stationary just to get some of her guns charged enough to send projectiles downrange. She knew they needed her, she knew without the MANTIS the Covenant would have already overwhelmed what little defense was left.

Then another engagement erupted just as she had turned her MANTIS around, it was being lead by a white clad elite wielding an energy sword. It was just the second time she had seen the frightening weapon up close, and it was far to close for comfort. The defensive line opened up, the intersection become a frustratingly low framerate time-lapse of plasma globs and multi-colored tracer fire.

A red alert popped up on the screen, and everything went black. Main screen, her side screens, overlay panels and even the glow from mechanical key had ceased illuminating the now dark and moist canopy, quiet plunks of raindrops penetrating through the damaged armor. The haunting messages blinked on and off in rotation, 'REACTOR OVERHEAT' cycled with 'EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN' for nearly a minute.

"Oh for fuck sakes!"

Her MANTIS sat powered down while the battle raged on outside, then abruptly ceased sometime later. She went from watching glimpses of light penetrate through cracks in the canopy armor to wondering if anyone had survived at all, wondering if there was anyone outside of her leaning tower as darkness consumed her once again. It had felt like hours passed, her energy was zapped and fear lingered within her soul. All she could do was sit praying someone noticed her stiff mech hadn't fired a shot throughout the engagement, and that someone was brave enough to climb onto the roof and smack open the exhausts. She tried to reach for her canopy release, but with no illumination it was difficult to see what she was reaching for.

"You think you know your home until there's no power!" She groaned to herself. "Is that it?"

She tapped a button near the top corner of the canopy.

Nothing.

There was a flurry of choice expressions as she slammed her hand over buttons and switched she could find, desperately trying to release the canopy.

"If anyone is out there, I need help in here! Please..."


(OOC: It's my intend to have the canopy 'fused' together with the frame. This mech is her tomb, her coffin.)

[Remnant]

SGT Gary MacAddy, “Checkmate 1-2” - Charlie Company, 2-218th Marine Regiment, UNSCMC
Novus IV, "Nyx" - Capital City "Arkaus", Market Plaza - Commercial District
0400 Hours
Out of Time

This was it. The Covenant forces had been pushed back southward as C-Co fully regrouped and reintegrated itself. Captain Samuelson (Checkmate 6) and First Sergeant Vickers (Checkmate 7) quickly assumed command of what remained of the company. Samuelson ordered the retreat, as C-Co retreated from the area. MacAddy was about to order his own soldiers out of the area when he realized Keating hadn’t made it back yet. To further complicate the situation, a fireteam of soldiers surrounded the same MANTIS from earlier, at least one of them on top of it, banging at the canopy with the butt of his rifle. MacAddy retrieved the dog tags for Corpsman Keaton and Lance Corporal Kallighan as 2nd Squad approached the lone fire team. MacAddy quickly rejoined them.

“Y’all have stones in your ears? Get your asses out of here!” MacAddy shouted.

“Sergeant, the MANTIS! It hasn’t moved in the past five mikes. Somebody’s still in there, we can’t leave them behind!” One of the Marines replied.

Shit. MacAddy thought. It was either leave the pilot to die, or die trying to rescue them, MacAddy’s moral compass pointed towards attempting to save them, but he knew it’d be a futile effort. Reasoning that this would give them more time to wait for Keating, MacAddy patted the Marine on the back. “Get the hell out of here, son. We’ll take over from here.”

“But Sarge, all the Engineers are dead. How-”

“That was an order, Marine. We’ll figure something out. Get your fireteam out of here, regroup with the rest of Checkmate. My squad will catch up, eventually.” MacAddy said, pointing his rifle downrange. The marine and his fireteam left the area, as 2nd Squad waited for Keating and his group of ODSTs to return. MacAddy tried to open a comms channel with the MANTIS, but he had no idea if it’d work.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re gonna try our damndest to get you out of there. Nobody gets left behind, not on my watch.” MacAddy said, as Lance Corporal Burroughs climbed the MANTIS’ frame and started banging on the canopy with the butt of her rifle.

“Sarge, are you sure this is a good idea?” Corporal Sullivan asked.

“Sully, I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know if this is going to work. I don’t know if Keating’s gonna make it, or if he’s already dead. I don’t even know if we’re gonna make it through this. If you or anyone else here wants to hit the ground running, be my guest. I won’t keep any of you here.”

“It’s been an honor, sir.” Sully said, chambering a round and pointing it downrange with MacAddy. The rest of 2nd Squad joined in, forming a perimeter around the MANTIS as Burroughs continued to bang against the canopy.

---

(NPC)
CPL Chase Jameson, “Dragon 3-3 Alpha” - Delta Company, 1-125th Ranger Regiment, UNSCDF
Novus IV, “Nyx” - Capital City Arkaus, The Sinkhole - Energy District
0405 Hours
A Rendezvous With Death

Jameson and his Alpha Team moved through the decrepit alleyway, weapons at the ready. They checked every nook and cranny, with one of the soldiers, SPC Fernandez, watching the team’s six o’clock. Jameson approached a battered steel door. Jiggling the handle, he realized it was locked. He nodded to PFC Lee and PV2 Hughes as both privates took up positions on either side of the doorway. In one fluid motion, Jameson kicked the door just below the handle, breaking the lock with a loud *thud*.

Alpha Team rushed through the fatal funnel. Lee was the first person to go through, taking a sharp left as he checked the first corner. Hughes took the right, checking his designated corner. As Jameson came through, he took a left, keeping an eye on the center room. Fernandez followed behind him, taking a right and mimicking Jameson’s motion. The small room was cleared in short order. The contents of the room weren’t much to behold. Several flipped chairs and coffee-stained end tables, along with a raggedy couch. A patient lobby, torn asunder. Crooked paintings lined the walls. Blood trails led every which way, as though multiple bodies had been dragged through the clinic to destinations unknown. Holding two fingers up, Jameson gave the “go ahead” motion, flicking both fingers forward. Alpha Team proceeded up the center stairway, entering the second floor of the run-down clinic. Opening the door to one of the larger patient rooms, Jameson was horrified by what he came across.

Two bodies, strewn across the floor, blood counting the floor and walls. One of the bodies was completely ripped to shreds, from head to toe, a gory mess of minced meat. A large, visceral cavity took the place of where the soldier’s face should have been. The other body was facedown, claw marks sliced through his back, tearing through his armored titanium plates. Tattered muscle and sinew lay across the man’s back. As Jameson approached the bodies to retrieve their dog tags, the facedown soldier rolled over in immense pain, gasping for air.

“T-the others…” The man sputtered out, coughing blood into a pool that had already gathered beneath him. Jameson recognized the man as PV1 Sampson, a soldier from 1st Squad’s Bravo Team. Kneeling down, Jameson tried to patch the man up as best as he could with the soldier’s standard-issue IFAK. It only provided the dying soldier a small reprieve from the pain.

“Talk slow, save your breath. It’s gonna be okay. What happened?” Jameson asked.

“We were ambushed… Second squad was g-gone… when we got here.” Sampson coughed again, blood dripping down his lips. “They s-slaughtered Alpha… t-took the rest of Bravo... “ Heavy wheezing. A loud, dry cough as though he was trying to clear his throat. “The body… Sergeant Braxton...“ Sampson’s blue eyes started glazing over, his body relaxing.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard, like windows being broken through. “They’re here…” Sampson said, going limp as the light left his eyes. As his soul departed from his body. Jameson readied his rifle as his Alpha Team pointed back towards the door and into the hallway. His hands shook, fingers twitching. Beads of sweat slid down the side of his face. He wasn’t ready to die. He wasn’t ready to go out like this. To be tortured, to be eaten alive. To meet his maker. He wasn’t ready.

[NinjaBoss]

ODST Corporal Moe Keating
Novus IV, Arkaus, Market Plaza
0358 Hours
Dog Pile

    Boots thudded on concrete as the ODST’s raced up the stairway and across the street above, moving as quickly as they could without jostling Private Santiago too much. They were coming closer to the gunfire now, and a large group of rifles suddenly joined their voices to the others, drowning out the noise of Covenant chanting.

    “Shit, do you think the Covenant are making a move?” Moe asked out loud.

    “Could be Sergeant MacAddy,” Lance Corporal Smirnov shrugged.

    “Yeah, I hope so.” Moe replied, and Private Santiago’s head rolled backwards. “Hey! You still with us Private?” Keating yelled, louder than he intended. He didn’t want to lose anyone else on this mission. I refuse to let Xavier die, he told himself, using the Private’s name against his better judgment. All the worse if he failed.

    “I’m here, I’m just… tired…” The ODST mumbled, and Moe began to fear that they were losing him. Not much further now. They were almost back to the block where they’d left the others. Moe viewed the nav screen of his VISR and noted they had only one city block left to go. Almost there. Assisted by the VISR system of his helmet he watched carefully for movement, any enemies that could stop them from reaching help for their friend.

    He didn’t see it until they rounded the corner, and could see the position of the Marines. Most were already leaving the area, and the few that were left were preparing for the retreat. Sergeant MacAddy stood near the MANTIS, an immovable monolith. A flash of red from a nearby alleyway alerted Moe to the presence of an enemy, and he brought his DMR to bear, aiming the M392 squarely at the chest of… a civilian! They obviously did not have an IFF tag otherwise the VISR would light them up green, and he had almost fired his weapon before he realized… but he didn’t shoot.

    Moe didn’t shoot.

    He could’ve, but he didn’t. It would’ve been horrible, he would’ve killed an unarmed civilian. The man just wanted help, and thought he had finally found safety. He was innocent. It would’ve mattered little to him in the end.

    “ODST’s! Help me, you have to help! The aliens, they-” The man was cut off as he rushed straight into the ODST’s, too deep in his panic to stop. He bowled Private Santiago out of Keating and Smirnov’s arms and fell on top of him with a thud, the crunch of something brittle like glass, and a wet squish as the body of the civilian slid off of Private Santiago.

    “No!” Moe exclaimed, and he rushed to the pair of bodies lying on the ground. First he checked the pulse of the man on top, and after confirming he was dead tossed the body aside and checked the pulse of his friend. He felt nothing. Santa was already dead, and he didn’t even get to say goodbye. The universe is cruel, he thought. He had promised himself, and had sworn he would save this man. He failed. He always failed. And in the rush of sorrow and anger that Moe felt in those moments, he couldn’t stop thinking about the civilian who had so foolishly wasted his life and killed Moe’s friend.

    I should’ve shot him.


Major John Maxime André
Novus IV, Arkaus, sewers beneath Residential District B - Graytown
0405 Hours
Antidote, I Hope

    Major André didn’t know how to react as the reptilian alien hissed something at him and spread a colored gel over the wound in his leg. It burned, at first, and he winced, but the pain began to fade after the alien’s fingers sprinkled dust over the gel as well. He waited to see what would happen, and as his leg started to feel better he realized… This must be Covenant medicine! He doubted anyone in humanity had ever seen anything like this. How lucky he felt!

    “What’s it doing?” Sergeant Borisov demanded, and prepared to push himself between Major André and the jackal, but André held up a hand and motioned for Rurik to stop.

    “Um, thanks, I guess,” He managed to say, and the jackal tilted its head before squawking at him again. After a moment, the helmet attempted a translation, and this time John was focused enough to hear it.

    “Us present one for double.” The helmet translated, and John frowned. He had no idea what in the hell that meant. Instead of replying, he decided to try and stand, and was surprised to find that it was easy! He could stand and move and probably even run and jump if necessary, but he didn’t want to push it. He was just glad that he could keep moving.

    “Alright everyone, we need to keep moving away from those beams. I don’t want to get buried down here. The jackal seems to be a friend, so keep an eye on it, but treat it kindly. I don’t want any repeats of the incident with Private Collinger.” The rebels nodded their heads in understanding, and shot the jackal various looks of curiosity or fear, but they felt little anger after watching this one save their commander.

    “Come with us, friend.” Major André told the jackal after standing up and retrieving the ODST helmet again. “We are going to attempt to map out this sewer system, and find a way off of this planet. To safety. You’ve proved helpful, so we’ll bring you along.” He didn’t mention that they still could not trust him enough to let him free, but he hoped he wouldn’t have to. He headed deeper into the tunnels now, lit up by the flashlights carried by the rebels. They couldn’t see the ends of the sewers, but they had enough visibility to feel comfortable for the time being.

    “Corporal Morgan, do you have a map of the city? We need to know the most likely locations for us to find transportation off planet. Is there anything else supposed to be down here?” He asked her, trying to find a path through the labyrinth of tunnels.

    “Let’s see..” She replied, “Maelon Air Base is probably our best bet for interplanetary transport, but it’s difficult to get to above ground. We may have better luck from down here, or perhaps we could make for the farmlands on the outskirts and commandeer a Covenant vehicle. As far as the sewers go, there’s not supposed to be anything else down here, but…”

    “But?”

    “Well, there’s rumors. Talk of an underground research facility, maybe ONI. But there’s nothing down here André, we’ve looked.” Corporal Morgan seemed certain, but Major André was not so sure. After all, he specialized in intelligence, and he knew that things could be hidden well enough they wouldn’t be found even if their seekers were looking directly at them. But if that was the case, it would be little use to go looking now. They didn’t have the time.

    As if to confirm his thoughts, the ground shook above and around them. Major André was certain he could hear the sounds of more plasma beams tearing into the ground, like the one that had killed Private Collinger. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

[Faclan]

Poc - Ruuthian Spotter
Moving away from residential B sewers
Into the darkness with the new nest.

"Thank I assume." The helmet worted at him as Poc smiled as much as his beak would allow and gave a nod as well. Things were starting to look up! They had both helped each other so far so that would mean less chance for him to get a bullet in the back. The Humans still had the advantage in; numbers, guns, language, and life for life saving but hey at least Poc had shown himself to be useful! A good start. Checking to make sure there was another half measure of Ruddak gel in the container Poc capped it and returned it to his belt before getting up as the Major did. Trying to listen as best he could to the helmet as it occasionally piped up as Poc tried to keep looking around at everyone to try and work out who was saying what.

"Ok group, we must always flee away from pole." Poc looking up at the rumbling and nodding that yeah that is a good idea. "I no want buried." Still on board. "The Kig-Yar appears allied." Well that was lovely to hear. "Keep watch on it. Be fair. No repeat of operation with minor -----." Sounded great! "Follow us friend."

"Yes General." He replied back before the helmet continued.

"File practice to map this tunnel network - to observe safe passage off world." They didn't seem to have a plan already? Thats ok Poc wouldn't expect them too since he doubted they were prepared for the Covenant to show up. Maybe the UNSC and their ships but they would likely be easier to slip past. The Spotter looking down at his own gear as he considered how he could help. He couldn't fly a Phantom but maybe he...he could what? Get them close to one and then what? He doubted they could fly one either. No they would need some human ship of some kind. "To warm home. You ally so we make you come too." Looking around at the other Humans Poc tilted his head before looking back down the hallway he had first come down. If it even was that hallway hed completly forgotten.

"Leaving no option." He doubted anything good would be left for him back with the Covenant. "Put in battleline again and no friend. Ally you safety." Rubbing his throat from the Sangheili grunting and worting before he fell into step with the rebels. Doing what he could to not be in the way. He didn't have a weapon so instead he tried to keep listening. But he doubted hed be able to hear anything through the boot sloshing and stamping. And the helmet occasionally spitting more of the various voices at him.

"Major - own plan of tunnel?"

"Witness - ---- Sky military fort smart plan for atmosphere piercing." Before a stumble from one of the Humans made him miss most of the rest of that. "...belief no secret here. Anus." Wait what?

"Anus?"

"Possible secret. Sermon of hidden knowledge library. Belief Black Eyes hole." If more was said after that Poc didn't hear it as he held his arms to his chest and started to hyperventilate. T...they were going to the lair of the evil eye Humans! Oh gods no! Making him look back and seeing two Humans behind him as he tried to squeak out.

"N...nononon. No go Black Vision. Many many report of bad accomplishments." Trying to stop before he was pushed along as the Humans behind him grumbled.

[Remnant]

SGT Gary MacAddy, “Checkmate 1-2” - Charlie Company, 2-218th Marine Regiment, UNSCMC
Novus IV, "Nyx" - Capital City "Arkaus", Market Plaza - Commercial District
0405 Hours
Devil’s Cradle

“Hate to be the bearer of shitty news, but this canopy’s shot, Sarge.” Lance Corporal Burroughs called out from the top of the MANTIS. “The metal’s all fused together where the latches should be. Even the emergency release is slag.” The woman continued banging against the canopy with the butt of her rifle, even as a stray plasma bolt flew clear over her head.

MacAddy chucked a spare mag at Corporal Sullivan, providing covering fire while he reloaded. Several Covenant teams were sweeping the area for stragglers. The brunt of the main force had departed, attempting to pursue Charlie Company as they commenced a full retreat. One such team engaged MacAddy’s squad in a brief firefight but were met with a tenacious resistance. As the grizzled Sergeant downed the final grunt of the hunting party, he caught a brief glimpse of a figure in a nearby alleyway. Recognizing the silhouette of an ODST, MacAddy tried his best to wave them down to his position. The movement was short-lived, however, as a second Covenant hunting warband engaged the squad. Moving behind one of the MANTIS’ massive legs, MacAddy looked up to see occasional streaks of flame, along with a continuous gas leak from what appeared to be an exhaust port of some kind. It was located on the back of the mech’s frame, closer towards the top of the torso.

“Burroughs, check the back of the frame. There’s a pretty big leak of some kind, looks like a heat exhaust.” MacAddy called out to the soldier still beating the canopy.

“With all due respect, what does that matter?” She replied, unintentionally snarky.

“These things have to get their power from somewhere, right? Crack open that port and see what happens.”

“And then what?”

“Pray to God that this thing’s still serviceable.”

Burroughs moved to the back of the MANTIS, crawling on all fours so as to maintain three points of contact. She had always been nervous around heights. Climbing down the back of the frame, she found the leak MacAddy had mentioned. After careful searching around, she found an emergency release latch that hadn’t been melted off. It was stuck, however. Pulling as hard as she possibly could, Burroughs managed to release the latch, opening the exhaust port fully and venting out the excess heat. Unfortunately, she lost her balance from the sudden pressure release and the rapidly escaping gases. Her arm was engulfed in blue flames, along with the right side of her body. Losing grip, she fell almost a story and a half - about 19 feet, the height of the MANTIS - before hitting the ground with several crack’s and a loud thump.

MacAddy had no time to react as the Covenant aliens pressed their assault further, attempting to surround his squad. The squad formed a very small, circular perimeter around the downed mech. Back to back, MacAddy and Sullivan made their final stand with what was left of the squad against the alien onslaught. No matter how many of the creatures fell, one more was there to replace them. The ugly, scaly faces of the masked, gas-breathing Grunts became burned into the Sergeant’s mindscape with just how many of the aliens there were. It was becoming impossible to keep count. Praying as hard as he possibly could, MacAddy looked up towards the sky at his God, humbly begging for deliverance.

---

(NPC)
CPL Chase Jameson, “Dragon 3-3 Alpha” - Delta Company, 1-125th Ranger Regiment, UNSCDF
Novus IV, “Nyx” - Capital City Arkaus, The Sinkhole - Energy District
0405 Hours
Definitely not a rat.

SPC Fernandez was the first to head through the door. His rail-mounted flashlight illuminated the area wherever he pointed his rifle. Sweeping left, then right, he kept his weapon pointed down the hallway but turned his head back towards the doorway where Jameson stood. The Corporal nodded his head, following behind Fernandez as he walked deeper into the hallway. Jameson’s heart pounded in his head as he kicked in a door on the right, just to find nothing within the room beyond trash and debris. On the opposite side of the hallway, PFC Lee kicked in another door to find similar results. An empty, thrashed about room with no enemies in sight. SPC Fernandez, taking point at the end of the hallway, turned completely around to face Jameson just as he exited his all-cleared room.

“Must’ve been a rat or some shit. I haven’t seen nothin’, Corporal. You’d think nobody’s home.” Fernandez spoke, lowering his weapon and his guard.

“Rat my fuckin’ ass. What kind of rat makes that loud of a racket?” Jameson peeked back into the room he cleared. “Not to mention, rats don’t shatter entire windows trying to get in.”

As Jameson turned his head back towards Fernandez, he could immediately tell something was off. Fernandez was petrified with fear, his eyes wide and deathly afraid. With the temperature having dropped so much, he could see the Specialist’s breath coming straight out of his mouth. Except… that wasn’t him breathing. Something behind him was. A low, rumbly chuckle filled the hallway, followed by an ear piercing shriek that caused Jameson to wince in pain. Fernandez screamed his lungs into bursting as a blade pierced through his chest like a bayonet, blood splattering the immediate vicinity, coating the floor and walls. The man screamed until his voice gave way, his face aghast as his body and open jaws went slack. His eyes glazed over as he went completely limp, before being violently tossed towards Jameson.

Frozen in place, Jameson’s breath was knocked out of him as Fernandez's corpse collided with him. The deadweight of the deceased Specialist forced Jameson to the floor and kept him pinned there, his rifle sliding across the floor - just out of his reach. PFC Lee and PV2 Hughes turned and fired their weapons towards the darkness, missing the shimmering mirage-like figure of their would-be assailant. The invisible creature moved with a surprising amount of speed for its size. The weight of the alien could be felt, as every one of its stomps left paw-shaped cracks and craters in the flooring. It closed the distance between itself and Lee, grabbing the soldier by his leg and flinging him through the permacrete wall before he had time to react. Not a single sound escaped from the broken, presumably dead soldier. Hughes opened fire while the alien’s back was turned, drawing its attention. The illusion wore off completely as the bullets tore through the invisible cloak, revealing a massive Brute adorning dark, angular armor. A singular red eye in the center of its helmet pierced the darkness around it. Holding up and aiming its barbaric weapon, the ape quickly fired three spikes into Hughe’s chest, pinning him to the wall behind him. His cries of pain were cut short when the creature walked towards him and crushed his small head like a melon in the palm of its gigantic hand.

Jameson became woozy, blood leaking from his nose and ears. The creature sniffed the air, turning towards the lone Corporal. What could only be described as a savage grin appeared on the gorilla’s face as it violently removed the body of Fernandez, momentarily freeing Jameson. With no time to react or process what was going on, stars blotted in and out of Jameson’s vision as he felt his eyelids getting heavy and heavier. The Brute grabbed him by his leg and began dragging him down the hallway, leaving a trail of Jameson’s blood behind him. By the time they exited the building, Jameson - still being dragged by his ankle - had already slipped into unconsciousness, blissfully unaware of the horrors to come.

[NinjaBoss]

ODST Corporal Moe Keating
Novus IV, Arkaus, Market Plaza
0405 Hours
Deliverance

    “MacAddy’s waving, Corporal! He needs our help,” Lance Corporal Smirnov reasoned with him. Moe hadn’t moved for several minutes after watching Private Santiago go. Xavier, his name was Xavier Santiago. We called him Santa, and now he’s dead like the legend we named him after. Suzanna shook his arm again, and she was shouting by now. “They need our help! Moe, he’s dead! Those Marines are ALIVE!” Something about the word alive must have released him, or else he had just gotten tired of staring at his dead friend’s body. He felt like he was in a haze, like he was watching more than he was acting. He watched himself start to move.

    Moe couldn’t bring himself to talk, not yet, so he used his VISR to order Lance Corporal Smirnov to take position in a nearby alley with decent cover and snipe at the Covenant hunting parties. She nodded, and Moe started to turn and head into the fray to save his allies, intending to give his life if necessary. Whatever it takes. But before he could go Suzanna grabbed his arm, stopping him, and he looked at her. A dark and empty faceplate stared back at him.

    “I need a spotter.” Her accented voice was stern, and did not welcome refusal. Maybe she doesn’t want to watch me die, Moe realized. Selfishly, he didn’t care, and he may have gone anyway if he had the will. But he was still experiencing the battle from behind his faceplate, watching a screen, and he watched himself nod and follow Lance Corporal Smirnov to the alley. The alley was relatively intact, compared to most of the planet, and would offer them good protection.They would be safe enough here.

    Moe aimed down his sights after getting into position, and Suzanna did the same. A burst of flame flared from the back of the disabled MANTIS, and he watched somebody fall from the top, half of their body on fire. They didn’t get up, but Moe could see others still alive who were forming a perimeter around the MANTIS. He also noticed two ODST’s, his own subordinates. You’re still alive? Time for these Covenant bastards to die!

    “Mark targets, Corporal.” Lance Corporal Smirnov radioed over the helmet comms, and Moe began picking out the larger aliens and pinging them with his VISR. Suzanna’s SRS99 would tear them to shreds. Moe shot the smaller and unshielded enemies with his M392 DMR, killing one grunt and another beside him in an explosion of methane, firing again and again until the magazine was spent, and Moe stopped to reload his third of four that he had brought with him for the drop. When the weapon was ready to fire again he looked down his sights, and watched the head of an Elite explode like blue gushers to the sweet sound of Lance Corporal Smirnov’s rifle. Things were starting to look up for the Marines it seemed, as several of the Covenant soldiers noticed they were being shot from behind and broke for cover. Following the methane death of their brothers, several of the grunts even began to flee, and Moe smiled beneath his faceplate.

Major John Maxime André

Novus IV, Arkaus, moving away from sewers beneath Residential District B - Graytown
0410 Hours
Escape Plan

    "No! No transport, dark eyes! Many, many reports of unworthy achievements!" The jackal screeched as the helmet poured out his cries of fear in a language that John and the others could understand. He frowned, and Rurik looked confused as well.

    “What’s his problem?” One of the younger lads asked, a Private named Sonny Bowman. “What’s he afraid of?” He looked at the jackal curiously, but Major André wasn’t paying attention when he spoke.

    “He’s afraid of the dark eyes! Whatever that is. Leave him alone Private, I wasn’t kidding when I said I don’t want to see any replays from earlier!” André’s anger flashed as he scolded the Private, who held his hands up beside his shoulders with his palms facing André. Thankfully, his VK78 Commando rifle hung loosely about the strap around his shoulder.

    “I wasn’t gonna hurt ‘im, Major! I just wondered what could scare ‘im, being a part of the big scary Cov’nant ‘n all”. Private Sonny Bowman boasted a country boy’s accent that couldn’t be matched, bred into him during a life in the farmlands on Nyx. Now those very same farmlands looked more like bonfires and molten rock than anything else.

    “Do you think it’s ONI? They’re dangerous, they could terrorize the Covenant.” Corporal Lacey Morgan asked, then turned to the jackal before anyone could answer and asked him. “Are you afraid of ONI? The Office of Naval Intelligence?” The jackal squawked in answer, a convincing enough reply for John André. “I don’t think he wants to look for their facility.” Lacey shrugged at John, but he wasn’t disappointed.

    “Good for him, because we don’t have time to look for it. See if you can find us a route through to Maelon Air Base from here. Our priority is getting off-planet.” He wasn’t going to waste any time searching for something that they already couldn’t find. They needed to survive, and staying on Novus IV would kill them. The planet was dying, and nothing could save it now, not with the Covenant bombarding the surface. Corporal Morgan nodded at him and then lost herself in her maps, and for a time the tunnels were silent save for the sound of their boots on the concrete and low rumblings from the bombardment above. Ahead, water trickled from somewhere in the dark, and it wasn’t long before the sound of their boots turned to sloshing and splashing with every step.

    The tunnel was pitch black except for the lights carried by the party of rebels, and shadows loomed around every corner. Soon they came to a chamber with branching corridors, two in each direction. John stopped and looked for Lacey. There was no way he would be able to find his way through eight separate paths with a guess. He needed to know. Thankfully, when he found her she seemed to be looking for him as well.

    “I’ve found a route, Major André. There’s no telling if the way will still be clear after the bombardment, but we can try.”

[Faclan]

Poc - Ruuthian Spotter
Moving away from residential B sewers
Teamwork?

"What his malfunction?" The youngest Human would ask as Poc's mind raced. "Why fear full?"

Had this been their plan all along? To Lure him along before handing him over to the black armored Humans to collect their reward? Easier to have him walk along with them than trying to push him along while bound or carry his body?

"He fear Black Sight! Unknown entity. Cease his action Minor," Poc looking fearfully at the armed youth human who was watching him closely. The rest of that sentence lost as Poc backed up. But didn't go so far he bumped into the wall as the Human didn't have its hands anywhere near its weapon. Just kept watching him.

"I not cause causality, Major. Unsure what would cause fright. Covenant large and fright." Poc looking more confused now as he tilted his head. Thinking for the first time that there may be some communication issue as he seemed to calm down. There was no way these Humans would have the connections to turn him back to the Covenant. And did the Major not say they were rebels? The Inside humans? He doubted the Black Humans would be friends with them since they were like the heretics...and the Black Humans were like the various secret Sangheili organizations. And they did not get along and were often sent after the heretics to kill them. So ok. Take a breath. Poc standing more neutrally as he looked back at the Major to try and focus on what was being said.

"Consider Black Eyes? They Hyper Lethal. They Fear the Covenant." Well...the lesser groundlings maybe, Poc thought as he nodded. He doubted the Generals cared much about them. Just different colored ants to slaughter.

"Is tale of terror. So much said - so little know." Poc would add himself about ONI. "Unknown cause mind to think. Make small terror big terror." Before he looked back at the Major as he spoke up.

"Excellent result you, no mission to go after." Oh yay. "Observe a path through to Sky Fortress. Our plan is off planet." Good a solid plan. Though the group then came to a big junction point. Poc looking around at each of them as he kept a hand pointed at the one they came down to help orient himself before he looked up. As he had been taught on the old asteroids especially with the jump happy Kig-Yar that not checking the vertical plane was a good way to not see the sniper looking down on you. And there was one of those circular portal holes above them. The beak following the ladder down to see that the rungs stopped about ten feet off the ground where the group currently was. Simple for him.

Looking over at the Major who seemed to be looking at one of the others who pointed down a particular passageway. "I located a path, Major. No say if still clear after glorious sky fall. But we attempt." Poc cheeping to get their attention as he pointed up at the manhole cover.

"I observe to ensure city outside is closer?"  It was simple to him and so he took a hop skip before leaping up the ten feet easily to almost have his feet on the rungs already. Looking back down all smiles before he frowned at the rifles pointed at him. Clicking his feet into the ladder rungs as he held one of his hands up. "Calm calm...I just look." Slowly edging up more as he looked back at them as they kept rifles primed. The helmet now too far for him to hear much of anything clear as he reached the top. Resting his elbow to wrist of his arm against it as he pushed up. No big explosions and he was able to look as he grunted at the weight for his smaller frame before getting the manhole off. Keeping his lower body on the ladder as his head turned 180 degrees backwards one way before doing the same the other direction. Nodding himself as he grabbed the manhole cover and pulled it back to clang over the hole as he awkwardly hop shuffled down the human made ladder before dropping back to the group. Pointing down the passage way that had been pointed out before.

"That point is city outside." Before pointing down on the one two to the left. "That point fire but flat earth. Question which best but what witnessed."

[MrKill]

CW2. Tia Young
Norvus IV
FUBAR

Young listened as the chaos outside continued; continuous thumps of automatic gunfire, the growling whine of plasma and dull metal clanging as someone worked atop the jammed canopy. She was thankful someone was there, she had realized that whomever it was had gone above and beyond while attempting to free the canopy. Despite hearing protection, the echoing gunfight tensed within the metallic confines of the disabled mech, and the Chief Warrant Officer could hear the ringing in her ears grow uncomfortably louder. She'd need some goddamned morphine when this was all done and over with, yet the nose seemed to fade as she realized the soft glow of the instrument panels had returned.

No red blinking warnings.

No shutdown command.

Numerous white lines displayed across the screen a moment later.

>> START REACTOR <<
>> WNG: HYDR MAIN PR FAULT <<
>> WNG: HYDR FLD TK1 LEAK <<
>> WNG: HYDR FLD TK2 EMPTY <<
>> WNG: REAC TEMP CRIT <<
>> WNG: TURB TEMP CRIT <<
>> WNG: STR INT CRIT <<
>> WNG: CNPY DISENAGE FAULT <<
>> WNG: CNPY EJECT OFFLINE <<
>> WNG: COM MAIN DESTROYED <<
>> WNG: CON RSV DESTROYED <<
>> WNG: GUASS1 LOW AMMO <<
>> WNG: GUASS1 DAMAGED. RCMD SHUTDOWN <<
>> WNG: GAUSS3 LOW AMMO <<
>> WNG: GAUSS2 LOW AMMO <<
>> WNG: GAUSS4 LOW AMMO <<
>> WNG: DISP FOUR OFFLINE <<

She ignored the rest of the messages that streamed across the main display.

She reached up and smiled, she could see the toggle switches above her head. She quickly flicked "TURB SRT" to the on position, reached over and reset the fuel flow, and remembered her desperate attempt to open the canopy. The CW2 needed to spend the next minute or so resetting all the switches and toggles back to their operating position, ran through a mental checklist before firmly placing her hand on the 'REAC SRT' lever.

She pulled down.

The light from the monitors faded, reset and the outside world became visible once again. The reactor hummed as the turbine spooled alive, plasma fire illuminated the intersection forward of the mech, splashing across the armored torso of the damaged walker and other bits of cover as the Marines below below dug in tight to avoid getting hit by suppression. They had formed what looked to be a semi-circle around the walker, and to the disappointment of Young, the wounded Marine that had freed her from certain destruction was laying on the ground.

Targets immediately started popping up, the red outlines of various Covenant sons of bitches superimposed themselves over the limited green outlines of the Marines below. Young knew what she had to do, her training kicked in with boiling rage. She reset her mechs weapon safeties, found the four closest Elites and marked them as priority targets. Another hydraulic warning popped up on her screen, she didn't have long before there was nothing left in the tanks but tried to remedy the situation. She closed the circuit, hoping that supply to the torso gears and gun mounts was enough to carry her through the night.

"Thanks, Marines." Young said, knowing full well they couldn't hear her.

Target one.

Zwwoosh

Target gone.

Young watched as the Elite's upper torso seemingly dissolved in thin air, sending the detached legs arching back through the intersection like some comedy bit. Cars, an overturned Warthog and various bodies were painted in the creatures' purple luminous blood. She didn't smile, she didn't pay much attention to the display, but rather switched targets to another Elite unfortunate enough to be tagged by the VISR software.

"Get fucked."