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Of course, Darius always had to get the first kill. Lucas leaped out the chopper and hit the ground running, and just as Darius unloaded his first salvo into a Drone, killing it, a seperate grub with a hammerburst of it's own found the large-built figure known as Lucas to be an easy target, and decided to fire it's own salvo while still out of cover. As soon as Lucas slammed his helmet on his head, Mulcher carried on his shoudler as he ran, a round slammed right into his chest armor. He let out a short groan as he felt the round bounce off harmlessly, but painfully, leaving a bruise. He'd been shot before, in the shoulder, the neck, his right leg, hip, and right hand. His goal was to have at least twenty gunshot wounds by the end of the war, and still survive.

That would say something.

He kneeled down, making sure he wasn't wounded badly, realizing it had hit his armor, and leaping back up to his feet, screaming at the locust who screamed back at him as he slid behind the same tree Darius was hiding behind. He waited for a moment, cocking back his Mulcher and mounting it on the trunk of the tree before pulling the trigger and watching the locust who had shot him moments earlier feel the bullets tear through him until he ended up with half of a head and an arm torn off just as the others finally took the hint and took cover behind large stones and other fallen trees, realizing they didn't want the same thing to happen to them.

"Orders, Darius!"

He yelled over the roar of his Mulcher which continued to fire for a few moments to keep the locusts heads down, or take them off if he was lucky.

__________________
I'm betting dreams upon my paper wings
Because flying isn't just for kings
I take the stairs to the very top floor
I paid the super to leave open the door
A perfect sunset is sinking in the sky
I know my body is ready to fly
I start the countdown back wards from ten
When I reach one my family name will end

Falling down as windows pass I start to cry
And curse the day my parents laid...
In a bed of hopelessness where love was made
Please mark my grave unknown

"Frederick! Left Flank and suppress both enemy squads. Graywood, Wilhurst, split them up and destroy. Me and Halden will give cover. Lets get this over quickly, Derricks will be passing in two hours, seeder's need to be gone by then!"

Darius sighted down his Hammerburst's electronic sights. The Locust had finally moved to cover under the blistering fire of Lucas Frederick's Mulcher, but every gun over-heated evenetually, and Darius was sure that they would launch a brutal counter-attack unless Gamma Squad took the offensive while they were down.

He squeezed of a few Hammerburst rounds but they hit nothing, throwing up on splinters of wood and bark as his round thudded into the fallen trees the enemy squads had taken cover behind. He was tempted to throw a grenade and flush them out, but he only had two frags, and he knew that further up Tornak Ridge, closer to the seeders, there would be much more hardcore squads of locust, and they would be much better frag-fodder.

"Time to get off this boat, then." Micheal mumbled as he leapt off the side of the Raven. As he hit the ground, he rolled to help lessen the fall. The second he got out of the roll, he was runnning for the tree that Darius had taken cover behind, bullets screaming past him. These Locusts weren't very good shots. He was there just in time to hear his own orders of covering fire. "Cover fire? Got it. Actually, I'll see your cover and raise you a smoke grenade." Micheal said that as he pulled out a smoke grenade from a compartment on his legs. He didn't really need to know where he was throwing it. So, he just blindly tossed it near the enemy Locust.

The smoke grenade set off, releasing its cloudy smoke all in the view of the enemies. Micheal turned to Darius. "Need any more cover?"

__________________
Indians: Taking over America one Nickel at a time. (b^-^)b

If at first you don't succeed, then Sky-Diving is not for you.

"Yes, sir!"

Lucas, ignoring where the rest of the squad was besides Darius, dashed quickly across a small opening firing his pistol while carrying his Mulcher by it's grip in his free hand and he slid behind a standing tree that was already half scorched. He wished he had the boomshield, but the Mulcher was always his first choice, no matter the situation. He saw a small mound on the far left flank near the Locust's side of the opening and ran for that through the woods, rolling behind it and replacing his pistol back in it's holster, taking out his Lancer to temporarily let his Mulcher cool down so it would be at it's best for his real attack.

He revved his chainsaw a few times to scare them before he finally heard the faithful -click- that meant he was about to have some fun, lifting the mulcher off the dirt ground he had laid it and , unable to mount it due to lack of a semi-flat surface, stood up, smiling as he screamed at the locust to eat led. He crouched back down behind the dirt mound as he heard a few rounds from one brave, or stupid locust trying to take him out. The next second Lucas took a chance and mounted the gun on the mound, firing at the trees and woods trying to put them back on the ground.

Suddenly, a smoke began to rise, and he could hear Micheal over the cease fire speak about throwing a smoke grenade.

"Shit, Micheal! I can't see em'!"

Two of the Locust, under the cover of the smoke, made a deal to run up behind the big man with the gun and try and take him out, and began on their makeshift, unorganized mission.

__________________
I'm betting dreams upon my paper wings
Because flying isn't just for kings
I take the stairs to the very top floor
I paid the super to leave open the door
A perfect sunset is sinking in the sky
I know my body is ready to fly
I start the countdown back wards from ten
When I reach one my family name will end

Falling down as windows pass I start to cry
And curse the day my parents laid...
In a bed of hopelessness where love was made
Please mark my grave unknown

Corporal Johnathan Graywood had maintained silence for the rest of the trip, he didn't expect to get half-tossed out of the King Raven for the question. At least he learned something though, he was afraid of heights. He was also able to assume the seeders and the nemacysts were just as monstrous and evil as the rest of the Locust Horde; he really hadn't been in any close encounters with the Locust, so he didn't know just how fearsome they really were. He knew he'd learn soon enough though, and for the rest of the chopper ride he was just mentally preparing himself for the battle. He knew his purpose here, he was part of the last stand for humanity, and he'd do his part. He was part of the C.O.G, he was a Gear, and by God he'd act like it.

He was snapped out of his deep thinking by the whine of the King Raven's chain-guns and missile launchers. His squad was already exiting the still-hovering helicopter, moving to engage the grubs who survived the chopper's furious attack. "Hell.. here we go.." Johnathan muttered to himself. He took a deep breath, slung his Longspear RPG over his shoulder and grabbed his shotgun from the weapons rack over his head before clumsily jumping from the KR to the ground. As the Corporal feared, he landed badly in the undergrowth of the forest. Pain shot up his leg, but the fighting had already begun between the Gears and the Locust. Gritting his teeth, he ignored the pain and moved with a slight limp to join up with his squad. Orders were being given, but through the pain in his leg, the roar of the chopper's blades, and simply distance from the sergeant he didn't hear more than muffled yelling. The locusts were suppressed by the squad's gunner, for the moment at least. A smoke screen went up, shrouding the locusts from view. He figured it was a locust smoke grenade, they were going to maneuver through the smoke, protected from the mulcher's devastating attack. The corporal readied his shotgun, scanning the forest and the smoke for any hint of the grubs. Sure enough two of the big, ugly bastards were charging through the smoke, hoping to get at the squad from their sides; they were focusing on the squad's gunner.

Johnathan yelled to his allies, "Hey, hey! Watch our flanks!"

He raised his shotgun, staring at the two drones. It was as close as he'd ever been to the things. They looked stupid, and intimidating. They were larger than a human, and no doubt much more physically powerful than one. He already hated them. There was no fear, just burning hatred for the things that he'd heard so much about. He'd do his part, then, he'd kill as many as he could. He pulled the trigger, and one of the drones doubled over, clutching at his bleeding torso. Dark red fluid drained from between the locust's clutching arms, it was a solid hit. Graywood subtly shifted the trigger-guard forward, releasing a still hot shell-casing and chambering a new round. He fired again, and the drone stumbled backwards, silently falling onto its back, and it stopped moving.

The second drone raised its hammerburst assault rifle, unleashing a flurry of large rounds in John's direction. The corporal dove behind a large tree, narrowly missing the fate of many rookie Gears. He winced, his bad leg had collided with a protruding tree root, making the pain just so much worse. He quickly moved to have his back to the tree, and shifted the shotgun so it was aimed around the corner at the drone. He fired the Gnasher, resulting in a glancing blow on the grub. Blood ran freely from the wound at its as it fired furiously at the tree itself. John shoved the trigger-guard forward again, resting the weapon against the tree, and no shell-casing emerged. He pulled the trigger only to hear the weapon "click". The rookie cursed, pulling the trigger two more times before taking the shotgun in both hands to find the problem. It was obvious, the casing for the last shot had become stuck in the chamber. John hit the gun several times, trying to force the casing out. Nothing happened, the shotgun casing refused to come out of the chamber. He tossed the weapon aside, pulling his Snub Pistol from its holster at his hip and turned the corner. He unloaded a whole clip of the small weapon into the drone, who finally fell from a mix of misses and glancing shots. Johnathan sighed and took a deep breath, hesitating before reloading the pistol and standing up to look for another foe.

The Kid was green. Darius thought There was no question of it, but so long as he continues to kill locust he is serving his purpose, and that is all i require of him The smoke was becoming vaguely translucent as it began to fade. He could see a single black figure groping about in the darkness. He raised his hammerburst to his cheek and gave it a salvo of rounds. It stopped groping around.

"Gamma, lets tighten the noose!." Darius shouted. "Advance" He leaped over his makeshift piece of cover and advanced at the ready, hoping everyone had heard him, Hammerburst raised to his cheek. The smoke well and truly clearing now. The rookie squads of locust had not even used it to their advantage and were still fumbling about with smoke in their eyes. "Useless fucking grubs." He muttered. Now Gamma had the drop on them. They were dead.

Darius unleashed his trigger finger, squeezing off round of round right into the teeth of the disorganized locust. Around him he hoped the rest of Gamma squad would light up and finish these grubs for good.

Lucas' eyes widened as he heard two, load, distinctive Gnasher rounds fired and simultaneious heard the slash of the roughly shaped shotung pellets tear through the white flesh of the locust scum. It was his favorite sound. Besides his Mulcher. Not only was it satisfying that he knew one of the locust that he just realized had attempted to flank him was down, the rook was the one that took him out. He grinned and stared as the smoke cleared, seeing the other locust take a glancing blow from the Gnasher in the shoulder, stumbling backwards and recovering to fire his Hammerburst back at the rookie, who had taken cover behind a thick tree, relatively safe.

He barely heard Darius shout the order to "Advance," but when he heard the rounds fly out of Darius' Hammerburst and kill the groping locust, he knew it was time to kick it up a knotch.

Lucas raised back up and took aim with his Mulcher at the locust, who had now retreated further in order to avoid being flanked by him. Common sense, not so much skillfull tactics. Unloading the Mulcher in a fully automatic status, releasing no pressure on the trigger and savoring ever bullet that he heard hit something, he advanced through the side of the opening practically without any cover besides the occassionaly overturned tree or log, simply trying to keep the grubs heads down. There where seven locust left in both squads, and it seemed one of their commanders had been taken out as he heard them yell to eachother in some strange language that could only be described as screaming repeatedly.

"Suck on this, motherfuckers..." He whispered to himself as he started running to get around them, diving further out of the opening with little maneuverability other then to move in a straight line until he felt he was behind them and he began firing through the brush. Just as he heard the first belt run out of rounds, he crouched down and behind a tree, sliding the belt back into the Mulcher. Grinder's didnt use a belt, and so where limited to the 500 rounds within the Mulcher itself. Lucas, however, had been permitted to take some old machinegun belts and ammo boxes and take the Mulcher's shell apart to make it belt-accessable, trippling it's led output. Making it belt-accessable, however, had made it so he could not also have 500 rounds ready inside of the Mulcher. He had fired his first 500 rounds, and now had to use the second belt. Only one more.

As he began to feed the rounds into the Mulcher, he heard something he really, really didn't like. A wretch. Or two? Or a dozen? You could never tell for sure. All he knew is that he heard a wretch, and wretches where tough to hit with a Mulcher in the woods. He could scream for aid, or he could try to wipe out the locust at their cover since they where surrounded, or he could try and fight the wretches, of which it really took at least 5 to do him any real harm. He did, after all, have a Lancer, which, of course, had a chainsaw. And chainsaw's where fun.

He quickly shoved the belt into the Mulcher, hoping it was set if he needed it and he hadn't accidently jammed it, and unslung the Lancer off his back, standing up and revving the chainsaw, prepared to do what he could. He then heard a scream, obviously a Wretches, and he screamed back, turning around to see it had dissapeared from where he was. He could still hear the Locust gunfire only meters away, and knew a few of them where shooting back at him as he heard a few thuds. He had know idea how many, if any, he had killed with his Mulcher. That was the magic. He may have killed any amount of them, and he didn't know it. It satisfied him to think he had killed them all, though.

As he screamed, the wretch leaped down from a branch above him, landing on his back, trying to bite at his neck but his armor and helmet preventing it. He grabbed the thing by a wrist and slammed it against a tree, bringing the chainsaw down on it and screaming in joy as he felt the blood of the thing splash against his gray armor, adding a bit of flavor to it.

Another wretch, three, each prancing around him in a small opening in the woods only about ten by ten feet. Idiots. He quickly snapped out his Gorgon pistol and launched a burst at one of them, watching it screech as it fell back, dead, half of its head missing.

The other two, startled by the sudden death of their brother (or sister?), charged out of rage, and Lucas turned, dropping the pistol and snagging one of them by its throat with his large hand and firing the lancer at the other one, watching it take a few bullets in the knees before it stumbled over and tried to crawl at him now that it's legs where crippled. He grabbed the other one by its throat and held them tight, watching as they kicked and screamed, pulling at his arms. This was fun. He crushed the crippled ones throat, dropping it dead to the ground, and removed a grenade from his belt and smacking it against the face of the still living wretch, watching it struggle to remove it but being unseccessful. He knew the grenade was now active as a proximity mine, and he knew just how to use that to his advantage. He held the throat of the thing tight, grabbing it by the legs with his other arm and started swinging it in circles, attempting to calculate his flight as he launched it through the air in the general direction of the locust squad, the wretch seizing out in the air trying to get the thing off his face.

He hoped it would work. And if not, it was awesome anyway.

__________________
I'm betting dreams upon my paper wings
Because flying isn't just for kings
I take the stairs to the very top floor
I paid the super to leave open the door
A perfect sunset is sinking in the sky
I know my body is ready to fly
I start the countdown back wards from ten
When I reach one my family name will end

Falling down as windows pass I start to cry
And curse the day my parents laid...
In a bed of hopelessness where love was made
Please mark my grave unknown

Damnit Lucas, i need that Mulcher fire Darius thought as he continued his withering salvo with his hammerburst. Then it was out of ammo, the gun clicked twice before he realized he was out, so intent was he on the battle. He cast the gun aside, no time to reload, he had to keep their heads down. Darius pulled clear his boltok. The six round wouldn't last him long, but hopefully his squad would move to support him by then. He Squeezed of six meaty blasts and another locust went down, his head three foot away from his body.

Darius couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the wretch come screaming over his head, landing square amongst the locust, who were only just now beginning to reorganize. The Wretch flailed its arms around wildly, scrabbling it seemed to remove something from its skin. Then Darius saw it, a grenade spiked into the wretches face. Next thing he knew, the sky was raining body-parts like confetti. "Some party." Darius muttered, picking his Hammerburst back up.

"Nice work Lucas." he shouted, for he was the only one who could have done it, his other squadmates were standing right next to him. "Looks all clear, lets press on, we don't have long before the Derricks come to move through."

With that Darius was off, his squad falling in behind him. They were moving into a denser stretch of forest, where every animal moving through the underbrush, every creak of the wind in the branches, everything sounded like a locust death squad coming down on them. Darius suffered no illusions, this operation would only work if they kept quick and quiet. If every Locust in the area figured out their position they would be dead in minutes. The atmosphere was electric. Everyone knew what was at stake.

Then they came to it. The next clearing along Tornak ridge. Blown clear with locust explosives and emergence holes. And at its center, sitting like some giant arachnid, was the first seeder. Its body undulated disgustingly and its legs scrabbled to support is gross body, inside of which Darius knew was a virtual biological factory pumping out nemacyst like candy. The Locust truly were grotesque creatures. Perhaps for that reason alone they deserved to die.

"All right Gamma Squad" He whispered. "This is the game plan. We need a distraction. Seeders are stupid and easily distracted, focusing their nemacyst elsewhere. If you two of you go and distract it, drawing its fire, me and another gear can sneak up and drop a bandolier of plastic explosive on its ass. ALright lets do this, who volunteers for distraction detail?"

The fight was over before it really got started. At least, that's how Micheal saw it. But then again, that always seems to be the case with most fights for him. They seem to go on and on in his head, while in reality they are already over. But, there was nothing he could do. He made sure to didn't need to reload and stood up, looking at the Squad Leader. A nice man he was. Sorta...

"Alright lets do this, who volunteers for distraction detail?"

When Micheal heard that, his first instinct was to raise his hand. But, he was no longer in the 2nd grade, so he quelled that idea. Instead, he raised his voice. "I will. Nemacyst are easy enough to shoot down, and are Hell-a fun to dodge." Mike started to smirk with glee, when he realized that he was shirking on his Medic duties. "Ok, so. Anyone needs a check-up? Bullet wounds, bruises, head-aches? Anything?" He asked that as he pivoted in place to see if anyone needed his help. Helping others always was his fantasy.

__________________
Indians: Taking over America one Nickel at a time. (b^-^)b

If at first you don't succeed, then Sky-Diving is not for you.