Tenjer shrugged in reaction to Ander's question and said "If Ross is at the other side I'd feel uneasy ignoring them. If they find him he's as good as dead". He gripped his DMR tighter, ready to aim and fire at a moments notice. "Though the two of us would have questionable odd's of succeeding too", he noted. "It may be best if we just pinged and waited for more back up to arrive", so Tenjer pinged his location again to update the rest of the ODSTs. He then noticed another Pod in the distance and went "There's another ODST nearby... If we're careful we might be able to get to him without alerting the covenant", and upon closer inspection he guess "Wait, I think that McCoys".

Tenjer began trying to evaluate the distance and said "If we wait a bit for the them to wander further off we can get to McCoy fine. But that would also put Ross in greater danger...". Not wanting to lose anyone else Tenjer was getting tempted to simply shoot at the Covenant now, and hope that Ross and McCoy got out fast enough to give aid.

Wyatt then decided to walk to his pod and get inside of it, since he had all of his gear and weapons. He saw that Danforth nob at him and smiled at him and then secured his shotgun and the light machine gun and sat in the seat and watched as the gates closed shut. He couldn't help but smiled as the countdown began at thirty seconds, he always loved to drop out of the pod. ODST soldiers could see an entire area either if it was a city central or a small colony, either known some feared that they could die on the pods, he didn't care. The countdown raced to ten seconds and the ODST anthem started to play, he loved it either known he heard it like ten times and waited until the pods dropped.

As soon as it reached zero, the pods dropped into space and Wyatt smiled as the pod was going down into the planet. He heard Jameson said something but didn't care as he was enjoying the view while he can, before he knew it, he saw the planet. It used to have life before those aliens came and gassed the planet, it would of been greener; yet, he could still see some parts of the blue rivers and black clouds, that covered most of the planet. He saw the pods until he heard thunder for a distance and then saw the bolt of lighting and it hit Turman's pod; which it crashed into a building, good as dead. Wyatt didn't have anything to say, he couldn't find the words, Truman died before the mission began.

04:30 Hours
23 August, 2550
Surface of Solace Colony

Others pods were hit as well and he hoped that he didn't get hit, thankfully, his pod didn't get hit at all and crashed landed near a large tree. As soon as he landed onto the grounds of Solace Colony, he opened his pod and got out of the pod. He grabbed his shotgun and then went to grab his machine gun, but as usual, it was stuck and grabbed it with both of his hands. It finally was loose and Wyatt flew onto the ground with his machine gun and his shotgun, the easy part was over now onto the hard part. He got off of the ground and heard Jameson asking if anyone was alive and Wyat pinned him and said, "I'm still here, sir." and then looked onto the street. Six bad aliens within his view, he couldn't talk with all of them and needed back up fast.

He then decided to give everyone his location and said, "I'm near the crossing of Josten and Tita and my pod crashed near a large tree. I also have six bad aliens on the road of Josten and I need backup as soon as they can come.". He saw a bench nearby and decided to sit on it and wait for help to come as he laid his shotgun near him and his machine gun on his lap.

04:24 Hours
23 August, 2550


It’d been nearly a dozen cycles since the Radiant Rampart had arrived at this forsaken hell hole, a planet that had been cleansed by the purifying fire of Covenant Plasma. Ship Master Kor’Vetal had been tasked by the Prophets to oversee this mission, and to see it done in completion. As he paced the bridge of his ship, he looked over the information he’d received. He and his unit had been dispatched to recover something of great importance to the Prophets. Only he knew exactly what it was, and how important it was.

Making his way down a ramp from the bridge, he stepped onto the gravity lift and went down to the surface of the destroyed world. He’d dispatched roughly three quarters of his unit to begin searching for an entry way into the catacombs beneath the rubble, knowing that what he had been sent for wad underground.

He stared up into the sky as rain continued to fall as a tremendous rate, and though the clouds above were thick, he swore he could see stars. As he focused, it dawned on them that these were not clouds, but rather drop pods. The enemy had arrived. They had come to find what he also had been sent to retrieve. Bellowing out a great growl, he caught the attention of his unit, and barked out a series of orders to them, alerting them of the incoming enemies.

Savoring the fact that he would get to meet his enemies in combat, he retrieved a plasma rifle from his thigh, and ran to bolster the ranks of his troops.

Behind him, the Radiant Rampart began to lift off from the ground. There was a standing order for it to retreat to high orbit in the event of enemy incursion, and wait until it was called upon to recover the unit.

- - -

The Titan Avenue block of Sarasota Boulevard

‘Lucky’ was the word that came to mind for PFC Crawley as she sat motionless in her drop pod, her MA5C held tightly in her hands as she tried desperately to fight the urge to panic. Unlike her friend and fellow Marine, PFC Truman, Crawley’s landing was rather uneventful. Letting the auto-pilot feature of her SOEIV drop pod guide itself, she landed with a soft touchdown on the outskirts of the city epicenter on Sarasota Boulevard.

But even though her insertion went without issue, she couldn’t move. She was paralyzed by the sounds of Truman’s death. It wasn’t until she heard the shouting of Master Gunnery Sergeant Jameson, that she actually seemed to snap to her situation. Blinking away her malaise, she sprung into action, the last remnants of fear gone in an instant as she reached for her drop pod’s hatch release, and climbed out of it. She sprinted for nearby cover, which happened to be the burnt out skeletal remains of an old minivan.

Checking the small data screen on her forearm, she pinged her comm link to reveal her location to the other Ghosts, and saw their own pinged locations. She wasn’t far from Sanders, Golovkin and even Sergeant Jameson. “Right…” she said to herself as she raised her weapon, keeping it level, and made her way in a south-westerly direction.

- - -

Near the corner Sarasota Boulevard and Cofax Avenue

Lance Corporal Donovan groaned as he returned to consciousness, his head aching painfully as he opened his eyes. Slowly the blur of his vision dissipated, and he realized why he had felt so disorientated; he was upside down. “God damn that sucked!” he commented to himself as he shook his head to clear the ringing sound in his ears. As he did, he realized his helmet had come lose in the crash.

He squinted his eyes as he searched for it in the darkness of his drop pod, evidently his systems had also been fried by lightning on the approach. Though somehow, he hadn’t tumbled uncontrollably into a structure the way Truman had. He wasn’t positive, but he felt certain that the PFC had surely met his fate on insertion.

Searching a little longer, Donovan’s eyes came upon his helmet, and they went wide with awe. “Holy shit…” he comment absently. When his pod had landed, a stray piece of durasteel rebar had penetrated the outer hull of his drop pod, and it went clean through to the other side. The bar had missed the left side of his abdomen by an inch or so. A slightly morose feeling came over him as he realized just how close he’d come to being out of the game, just like Truman had.

“I gotta move!” he exclaimed to himself as he unlatched his harness a little hastily, falling in a heap onto his shoulders. He grunted as dull pain surged through is large frame, and he reached for the emergency blow release for his pod hatch. There was a slight delay, then the door’s charges blew, and the hatch exploded out from his pod. Donovan let his feet fall down and out of the pod as he stood, and finally found his helmet.

As he slipped it over his head, the pitter-patter of the constant rain rang into his skull. He peered up toward the sky and saw a series of magnificent lightning bolts arc across it like a spider web. A second later her heard the Sergeant’s call for a status check, and he actuated his comm to signal. He reached for his MA5C, and released his safety as he turned away from his pod.

Looking to the southeast, he could see the faint flames of where Truman’s pod had crash landed; the rain would put them out in a moment he thought to himself.

"I may need help." came the call over the comm from Gunnery Sergeant Mullan, and Donovan looked further to the south. “This is Donovan, I’m en route to your location, Sergeant Mullan.” He announced as he polarized his VISR and began sprinting for her position.

- - -

Near the corner of Coronado Way and Cofax Avenue

Speed was the name of the game for Lance Corporal Croft when his drop pod had come to a rest, and without a moment’s hesitation or delay, he pulled the release handle of his drop pod’s hatch, and exited with his M45E raised and ready to fire. He relaxed however when his VISR hadn’t displayed any enemy contacts. Sighing deeply a moment, he turned back to his Pod to retrieve his M41 Rocket Launcher, slinging it over his back.

He peered up at the still pitch black sky as heavy droplets of rain continued to fall at an impressive rate. The sun had risen on Solace City, but the thick black clouds were far to thick to allow any sunlight in. “Perma-night…” he remarked as an impressive bolt of lightning arced across the sky, granting a moments illumination.

The drop was an extraordinary one for Croft, who was surprised that only one of their drop pods had been lost in it. The young PFC Truman, whom Croft barely knew. Croft knew casualties were a guarantee in this line of work, and that’s why he’d given up on getting to know new guys. He’d made the mistake of getting close to some of the other members of Ghost, and when they were killed, he swore he wouldn’t repeat that mistake. He rationalized that their deaths wouldn’t hurt as much, if he didn’t know them all that well.

Turning his attention back to his surroundings, he heard Jameson’s call, and actuated his comm for a split second, giving all he needed to report. He thought about heading west to meet up with the Master Gunnery Sergeant, but stopped when he heard Mullan’s distress call. “Coming to your position, Sergeant Mullan.” He voiced over comm as he began moving east, his weapon raised.

- - -

An alleyway between Sarasota Boulevard and Coronado Way

“Shit!” exclaimed Lance Corporal Sanders as she scrambled for the release level of her drop pod’s hatch, pulling it fervently. As the door raised slowly, Sanders sprawled out of her pod, and raised her weapon to make sure was clear. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed a little when she realized that she was in the clear for the moment.

Her pod’s auto-pilot system had malfunctioned during her approach to the city, and she was forced to pilot manually for the first time. She’d trained with the controls, but never during a live operation before, and her nerves got the better of her as she lost control roughly fifty feet from touchdown, ping-ponging against the burnt exteriors of two buildings as she landed in an alleyway.

She knew she was lucky to have not wound up like Truman, and was mad at herself for having lost control in the first place. It was mistake she knew she shouldn’t have survived. She swore it’d be her last, and when she heard the approach of someone from the north, she turned about and raised her weapon to take aim. As she did however, he VISR outlined the subject in green, and she didn’t pull the trigger.

“Crawley! God damnit, I almost shot you!” she hollered as she lowered her weapon.

- - -

At the T-Intersection of Maynard Boulevard and Fremont Avenue

Of all the Marines in hot water, Corporal McCoy was no doubt in the hottest. His drop pod had managed to land in front of the largest single group of the Covenant, and the big man had little to nothing in his way to take cover behind. As he peered out through the viewport of his pod, he saw the approaching group, and realized that the recon probe was wrong about the number of enemies; where he’d though to find nine, there were in fact eighteen.

“Fuck!” he blurted out as he scrambled for his M739, then depressed the emergency release actuator, and the door of his drop pod exploded out from him toward the amassed group. He raised his squad automatic weapon, and without hesitation he pulled the trigger. But rather than the familiar and comforting repeat of gunfire, he heard only a click, the telltale sign of a weapons malfunction. He looked down at his weapon, and in a panic he tried to pull back the charging lever to unjam it.

The simple motion of looking down at his malfunctioning weapon saved McCoy’s life however, as a searing hot bolt of blue plasma lanced just above it, leaving a trail of steam in it’s wake as it had instantly vaporized the droplets of rain that were falling from the sky. Splashing against the back of McCoy’s open drop pod, the radiant heat it put it off burned at his back painfully, while simultaneously melting a nice half-meter hole into the aluminum interior of his drop pod.

Looking up, McCoy darted from his pod, leaving behind his M319 in the process. As he ran, a dozen or so more blue bolts of covenant plasma whizzed past him, each leaving little trails of steam in their wake as the splashed against the backdrop.

“Taking fire!” called out McCoy as he dove for the only nearby cover he could find, the overturned wreckage of a burnt out car. As he went prone behind it, he tried again desperately to unjam his weapon by pulling on it’s charging lever. Pinned by a barrage of covenant fire, McCoy called out to his teammates for support. “Taking fire! I’m pinned down! Weapon has malfunctioned! I need immediate support!”

- - -

At the Triangular Intersection of Maynard, Stevens, and Cofax

Commander Aldridge’s insertion had also gone smoothly, but to her that was to be expected, and she’d never once had a moments doubt. Even when she overheard the panicked last words of PFC Truman as his drop pod smashed into a skyscraper, she never felt a moments worry. She was confident because she knew she would survive the war, either by the intervention of fate, or through her own.

With careful deliberation she unbuckled her harness and checked the data terminal attached to her left forearm. She’d landed exactly where she’d intended to land, though the others were scattered throughout the city. Sighing deeply she rolled her eyes at the inability of the Ghosts to land within her own area of insertion. She checked and saw a marker for where PFC Truman’s drop pod had impacted with a skyscraper, and without an ounce of care applied a ‘KIA’ tag to it.

As she heard the call of the Master Gunnery Sergeant demanding a status check, she mused him with a single ping of her comm. In truth, she didn’t care if the Sergeant knew she was alright, and she was willing to bet he didn’t care either. However, she needed the Ghosts cooperation if she was going to get into Asgard base and silence that meddling AI. Everything counted on it, and she didn’t care who died, so long as Loki was destroyed.

“Taking fire!” came the comm of one of the nearby Ghosts, and Aldridge saw that it was Corporal McCoy, just to her east. He had already encountered the Covenant, and was in need of support. Checking her readouts, she saw that eighteen, not nine, Covenant troops were approaching his position. She didn’t like those odds, so she refused to accept them. Reaching for her stowed M7S, she pulled the release lever for her drop pod hatch, and exited.

But rather than heading east to assist the in peril Marine, she headed south, betting that she could slip past the Covenant as they went for McCoy.

- - -

In an alleyway North of Stevens Street

PFC April had heard the cried of his fellow ODST, and clenched shut his eyes as he prayed to God that the man would survive, but in his heart knew that he wouldn’t. The static that hissed from the comm a moment after Truman’s last words were cut off cemented this outcome, and April began rehearsing the lords prayer in his mind. In the week or so that he’d been assigned to Ghost, he’d actually come to know Truman rather well, and it stung April to know he was gone.

Auto-pilot systems guided April’s drop pod into a relatively empty alleyway between two destroyed complexes, but as when he touched down, the wreckage shifted and his drop pod somersaulted down a mound until it came to a rest facing the stormy sky above. With gritted teeth he waited until he’d come to a complete stop, and only then did he open his eyes to see that he’d indeed survived insertion. As he took a deep breath of relief, he remembered the fate of his friend, and shifted uneasily in his seat.

“Move, Joe!” he said aloud to himself as he reached for the release lever of his drop pod, and watched as it lifted open. Heavy rain drops began to fall down onto him, and he saw the flash of lightning in the tortured sky. Retrieving his MA5C, he climbed up out of his pod, and down over the edge as he looked to his surroundings a moment. Then the call in for him to locate, and he pinged his comm. He saw the other pings, and realized he wasn’t far from Corporal Acosta, as well as Sergeant Archer.

As he moved down away from the mound of debris, he heard the Sergeant’s call for backup, and began double-timing it to his position. He couldn’t believe how swiftly his feet moved as he ran, and how he felt an absence of fear, given he was headed for the Covenant.

He felt like and ODST.

- - -

The Barrier Road block of Maynard Boulevard

“Oh shit! Ohhhhh shit! Ooooh shit! Shit! Ahhh shit! Oh shit!” was all that Wiley could profess during his atmospheric entry, glad that he’d silenced his outgoing comm. He’d never dropped before, and he was certain he wouldn’t ever want to again after this one. The vibrations of his pod cutting through the atmosphere nearly drove the fillings right out of his teeth, and the intense G-Forces caused him to vomit up his breakfast.

Though he immediately wished that had been the worst of his problems when he heard Truman’s cries over the comm. “Oh no…” he commented blankly as the taste of bile suddenly didn’t seem so bad. He had been with Truman at boot camp prior to their first assignments, and when they found themselves assigned to Ghost together, they re-kindled an old friendship. “…no, no…” he continued as he heard the static overtake Truman’s cries.

“…ahhhhh!” he screamed as his drop pods landing thrusters were fired by the auto-pilot, his attention going to the viewport, and the barely visible city scape beyond it.

When he finally touched down in a small courtyard outside of an old burnt out office building, he waited until his drop pod stopped moving before he stopped screaming. He opened his clenched eyes, and as reality returned to him, he undid his harness and leant forward. He pulled the release lever of his hatch and climbed out, leaving his rifle behind a moment.

“Tom!” he called out over his comm, hoping to hear something from his friend. “Truman! C’mon Buddy, you gotta still be alive!” he looked at the data pad on his arm, and saw the last know position of Truman’s drop pod. Looking off to the northeast, he could scarcely see the particular skyscraper that Truman’s pod had crashed into. Only when the sky was illuminated by the spectacular display of lightning could he actually make it out.

“Tom! Tom!” he called out on the comm. “C’mon, Buddy! Answer me!” he called out, and when nothing but silence returned, he felt sick to his stomach. Dropping to his knees, he hunched over as he fought the desire to sob over his friend’s apparent death.

- - -

The Barrier Road block of Josten Avenue

Exiting his drop pod, PFC Tuckk raised his SRS99 Sniper Rifle and checked his surroundings for enemies before taking a moment to actually figure out where he was. As he adjusted the zoom settings of his scope, he sighted up another drop pod that had landed near the old charred remnants of a tree. He watched as the hatch to the pod opened, and a Marine stepped out of it. Focusing, he was relatively sure that the Marine was Corporal Davis.

Zooming in past the Corporal, Tuckk caught sight of the enemy, and as he counted, he realized the intel they’d received was wrong. Whereas the clarion probe had shown six enemies making their way down Josten Avenue, there was actually twelve. Using his scopes computer, he marked the twelve Covenant on his locator, transmitting said enemies to the rest of the squad. As he zoomed further, he could actually make out what they were, and saw that there were two Elites, four Jackals, and six grunts.

“Shit!” he remarked aloud as he sighted up one of the Elites who barked some sort of command at the others. They were moving toward Corporal Davis, and they were moving fast.

- - -

In an alleyway west of Titan Road

The mad Russian had managed what he always had when he dropped, and had actually fallen asleep in his harness and seat. Despite being a veteran, Leonid trusted the auto-piloting controls of the SOEIV drop pods, and let them do the business as he simply relaxed. He was so relaxed indeed, that before the ODST anthem had even started, he was out. So deep in his sleep was he that he hadn’t even heard the cries of Truman as he plummeted to his death, and was entirely oblivious to this.

Only when there came an actual knock at the outer door of his drop pod did he stir from his slumber, looking up to see a Marine standing outside. Yawning he undid his harness and leant forward to stretch a moment before he actually unlatched his drop pod door. “What you want? I was sleeping!” he expressed angrily as he saw that the Marine who’d awoken him was Sergeant Danforth.

“You crazy fucking Russian! Get up, and get moving! We’ve got enemies planet side, and you’re god damned asleep!” Danforth was clearly aggravated as he hollered at Leonid. He looked over his shoulder to the west, then to the north where he could see another drop pod atop a mound of charred debris. “We’ve already lost a man, let’s go!” he turned back to Leonid, who had slowly stood up from his pod, and had gone to retrieve the mission critical piece of hardware.

“One minute… must grab nuke.” He explained as he opened an compartment on the left side of his drop pod. “Which one die?” he asked as he hefted the big tactical nuke from the compartment, and slung it over his shoulder.

“Truman… he didn’t survive the drop.” Danforth replied, his trusty MA5B raised and leveled to the north as he waited for Leonid to be ready to move.

After having slung the nuke, Leonid retrieved his M7S and extended it’s collapsible stock before shouldering the weapon. “Where are we headed?” he asked.

- - -

In an alleyway between Fremont Avenue and Stevens Street

In reality, what Sergeant Archer assumed to be seven Covenant troops, had actually been fourteen, the second largest group on the ground. Due to the severe electrical storm raging overhead, the Clarion probe had provided bad intel on the situation, for each blip there were actually two enemies. While the city was pitch black, save for the occasional lightning strike, the Covenant were aware of the Marines when their drop pods landed about the city.

And when Sergeant Archer’s drop pod landed so very close to one group, the excitement of said group was too much to control. Charging forth uncontrollably were the grunts, eight of them, half armed with a plasma pistol, half armed with a needler. The guttural language they spoke sounded like the yip-yap barking of a small dog, and as they grew close to the Sergeant’s drop pod, they opened fire.

Streaks of steam trailed behind roughly a dozen or so green bolts of plasma , and a flurry of glowing energy shards darted out at the drop pod as the grunts fired wildly. The plasma splashed, burned, and melted the aluminum interior skin of the pod, sparking a small series of fires that flashed into and out of existence in the heavy rain. The pink glowing energy shards pierced the skin of the pod like splinters before exploding, spraying the interior with more shards.

Growling loudly at the foolishness of his grunts, the Elite leading the group charged forward to try and regain control of the little methane breathers. Staying behind were three Jackals that raised their shield gauntlets and activated them. As they took refuge behind their energy barriers, they leveled their own plasma pistols down the alleyway, waiting for something or someone to present themselves as a target.

- - -

The Coronado Way block of Titan Road

As Corporal Golovkin made the twenty-four floor journey down from where his drop pod had landed, he could feel the rumbling of the structure shifting beneath his feet. Apparently the added stress of his self, and his drop pod had thrown off the careful balance of the building’s compromised super structure. Above him he could hear the snapping of weakened support beams and of old burnt concrete cracking apart. If he didn’t hurry, he’d be buried alive within the burnt and charred rubble as it came down upon him.

As he approached what he knew to be Golovkin’s position, Master Gunnery Sergeant Jameson stopped as he felt the ground beneath him starting to rumble. The building that the Corporal had landed in was coming down, and it was doing so in a hurry. “Golovkin! The building’s collapsing, move your ass!” he said over the comm, looking up as he saw the top five floors pancake downward in what felt like an instant.

In an alleyway between Fremont Avenue and Stevens Street

Archer saw the eight grunts charging towards his pod and obliterating it, and he quickly pulled his head back in and out of sight. He heard the noise of an Elite around the corner, apparently trying to get control over his aggressive grunt pack... Aggressive was right, a second slower and he'd have been joining Truman on the KIA list. He paused for a moment, thinking of his next move. The map showed there had been a second group of covenant, three of them, along Posement avenue. If he fell back down this alley or tried to hold his position here, they might come up and flank him. Stevens street was just up above the alley where his pod had landed, and if he recalled correctly the map had displayed it as being clean of covies.
How far away was his pod from here? A few meters down the alley, the grunts must be a few meters more. Might be able to hit them with a grenade, if not it would still provide cover. He had to get to Stevens street, he couldn't risk being caught between two covenant forces, especially since the numbers seemed to be off with the first group. The group further down Posement Avenue might consist of god knows how many Elites. He took a fragmentation grenade from his utility belt and pulled the pin on it, before tossing it blindly into the alley. He heard it ping off the ground, once... He slung his DMR and quickly pulled his his SMG, checking the safety was off... twice... he steeled himself, setting his eyes on the goal ahead... Bang.
He didn't wait even a second, as soon as the explosion set off, he sprinted for the far side of the alley, keeping his head down to avoid plasma fire and firing five four shot bursts from his SMG into the settling dust of the grenade's explosion, hoping to suppress the covenant forces. Plasma flew past him and overhead in bolts of green and blue, purple crystals pierced the dust and came flying past him... he could feel the heat from the passing plasma as he dashed, doing his best to avoid the incoming fire. He came out near the top of the alley and took cover behind the wall. It was only now he realised he'd been holding his breath, and he let it out, exhaling sharply. He should have just darted up the alley as soon as he came out the pod, he'd almost fucked himself over then.
He took the clip from his SMG and placed it in securely in case he ran out of magazines later, the loaded another clip into the bottom of the SMG locking it into place. He didn't want to run out of shots if that Elite came around the corner, he'd seen what they could do to a man and if it's shields were still up he'd be fucked.
He bit his bottom lip and listened out as he turned to the side to face the entrance to the alley and trained his weapon, ready to open fire on anything should it come around the corner.

Remnants of a warehouse on Maynard Boulevard

Jace heard gunfire coming from where Tenjer had spotted McCoy's pod. He saw the familiar blue pulse of plasma fire emanating from a now much larger crowd of Covenant forces. Instead of answering his team mate he simply moved into action. Weapon shouldered once again, he aimed into the group. They'd found McCoy already and were now raining fire upon him.

Just then his comms link screamed, “Taking fire! I'm pinned down! Weapon has malfunctioned! I need immediate support!” Flicking his weapon to it's 3-round burst mode, he answered the request for help with the crack of three bullets being loosed from the barrel, the sound echoing down the street. In milliseconds they'd traversed the distance between him and the group, embedding themselves deep within the skull of a particularly eager grunt. The force of the trio jolted its' small head violently to the right, stopping its' forward motion almost instantly and throwing it to the ground. As another bolt of lightning flashed, the large group noticed the frontrunner's fall. Shrieks from some of the other Grunts filled the street whilst the Elites bellowed new orders to return fire upon their assailant. But as another Grunt turned to aim in his direction, Jace calmly stroked the trigger of his weapon a second time, releasing another three bullets that impacted, immediately, with the methane tank attached to the small alien's back. A minor explosion sent bits of tarmac, blood and alien body parts spraying out in all directions, the flames of the combusted methane engulfing another unsuspecting Grunt as it, too, had turned to face his position.

"No time to wait, let's light 'em up!" He said to Tenjer. Then, switching to the Squad Comms, "Sit tight McCoy, me and Tenjer are a few hundred meters west of your position. We're laying down fire on these assholes now. If anyone else cares to join us, consider this an open invite."

By now, Grunts covering the left flank of the group had begun targeting both himself and Tenjer, their green and blue bolts of energy crackling as they burnt through the air towards them. Jace dodged a few but took a light singe to his left shoulder's armour plating. Dropping to a single knee once again, he let off more rounds into the group, hoping to pick off the ones gradually getting closer to McCoy's position. These shots, however, didn't hit. Almost as if it had been planned, green, blue and orange shields suddenly burst into life at the last microsecond, deflecting the bullets. "Shit! They've got Jackals!" He exclaimed into his two-way comm with Tenjer.

Amber sat quietly inside in what felt like her own tomb but luckily she was alive and breathing, she looked through the view port her pod had crashed in looked like it was a restaurant or what was left of one. Then she heard Lance Corporal Donovan and Lance Corporal Croft's voices over the radio and brought up her map seeing that they were both close to her and making their way towards her position. "Good to know." Amber said and went to check her weapons making sure that both weren't jammed she heard over the radio that some of the others within GHOST had come into contact with the Covenant. "Stick to the alley ways and buildings to try and avoid the covenant don't engage unless it's absolutely necessary." Amber said through the radio.

A few minutes later Donovan and Croft had made it to her location. "We are here sarge we will get you out quickly." Donovan said and nodded towards Croft they both started to pull at either end of her hatch but it wouldn't budge, Croft then went to look around and found a crowbar and decided to use that for leverage. After a few attempts Amber's pod finally gave way and Amber using her strength to further open the door to her pod.

"Jameson we are on our way towards you now over." Amber said looking to both Donovan and Croft and nodded to the both of them and activated her VISR getting a better look at the area around them and made her way towards Jameson's location.

Hearing his comms cackle to life with calls for help, all Brewer could do was pick and choose who to reinforce and since Tenjer and Jace were closest he sprinted to cover them his boots echoing loudly through out the empty streets "Coming on your flanks, Tenjer don't shoot me" He yelled over the radio stepping up behind the two he flicked the safety off his battle rifle and switched into 3 round burst and fired a couple of rounds down range "Whats the plan gentlemen?" He said ducking down as a green glob of plasma passed overhead.

Before Tenjer knew it the Covenant forces he spotted had already noticed and were firing on McCoy, and in an instant Anders had already gunned down two grunts. When Ander's yelled at Tenjer to light him up he nodded and yelled "Right behind you!". Tenjer followed right behind him, dropping to one knee and using a shot of his DMR to get a third grunt who was turning in the head. Mentally counting the aliens he could make out eighteen of them, which meant they were down to fifteen by the time the Jackals responded with bringing up their shields. Just then he heard Brewer run up from behind, yelling not to shoot and then asking what the plan was. He pulled a pin off a frag grenade and said "Take these Covenant scum down and get McCoy out of there!". Right then he threw the grenade and it flew right behind the three Jackals who set up their shields. The grunts and elites say it in time to avoid but the Jackals having had their backs turned to it had no turn before the grenade went off, effectively killing the three Jackals and disabling their shields. A plasma bolt then hit him right him the helmet, it was hot and burned a bit but ultimately it was mainly absorbed by his armor. He sighed with relief and said "We're going to need some cover or to kill all of these guys soon or we're done for!".

Eighteen.
There was eighteen of them.

Stupid probes.

Corporal Ross scowled as the Covenant advanced on McCoy's pod. They appeared curious, though moved with obvious caution.
From what he could see, it was mostly Jackals, Grunts and a few Elites. Cannon fodder, with a few special troops sprinkled in. Shouldn't be too hard, providing McCoy didn't-
Patrick flinched as the front door of McCoy's pod blasted from it's position. The aliens opened fire, and for some stupid reason McCoy wasn't shooting back.
...
Oh, weapon manfunction. Yeah, that would do it.
McCoy was pinned, and the Covenant were advancing towards him. Anders and Tenjer were on the opposite side of the street, and from the looks of things they were providing a bit of covering fire. There were too many though... And with all of their focus on the ODSTs, getting McCoy out was going to be an issue.
He glanced behind him as another Pod opened behind him, noticing the Commander moving down the street. He frowned as she dissapeared down an Alley.

Leaving us alone... Really, ONI?

Corporal Ross shrugged and turned back to the firefight in the street. The Covenant hadn't noticed him yet... That'd be great if he had a proper long-range weapon. A shotgun at this distance was about as useful as a wet slap to the face. Anders and Tenjer looked like they could get some proper shots off if the Covenant weren't as focused on them. They needed proper cover, or a distraction...
He reached up and plucked a flashbang from his combat harness, peering around the corner again as he switched on his squad radio.

"Throwing a flashbang! Cover your eyes and ears, people!"

Without waiting for a response, he yanked out the pin and hurled the grenade towards the Covenant. It bounced along the concrete, coming to a stop near one of the Grunts.
Patrick pulled away from the corner, waiting for the burst of light and sound.

"No shit, sir! What gave that away?" Sergeant Golovkin forced a chuckle as he blitzed down the stairwell. Before the building decided to collapse in on itself, Ready had just cleared the 5th floor in a mild-mannered pace, averting injury with careful strides down brittle steps and scattered debris. The sudden torrential storm of metal and cement rock came crumbling down like a hellish giant, pursuing Golovkin while destroying everything in its path. He was lunging now, clearing several steps, before one finally gave out from underneath him. He stumbled forward, tumbling onto a platform facing an exit door. The roaring sound of destruction rang through his helmet, echoing all over the walls of the stairwell like an angry sea. Chunks of cement crashed into everything around him. Golovkin leapt to his feet and shouldered through the door.

"Shit!"

Enveloped in a plume of dust, Robert blindly sprinted forward, relying on the micro-framed outlines of the environment displayed on his VISR. Even still, the rapid shift of his surroundings caused interference, making it hard to determine whether he was on the third or second floor. Either way it didn't matter; one way or another, Robert was jumping out of this building. An opening from the dust gave a moment of clarity, and Golovkin saw shattered window clearings ten feet in front of him. The VISR hiccupped again, but just as he was three steps from leaping out, his VISR revealed a row of vehicles parked on ground level, several feet from the jump. Robert slightly readjusted course and pushed off from the ledge, clutching his M90 with both hands and braced himself for impact.

Crash!

The landing came quicker and harder than anticipated. Golovkin rolled with the momentum as best he could, tumbling off of the wide rooftop of a car before landing onto the street, feet first. Pain jolted through his left ankle, but his adrenaline kept the ODST zeroed in on the moment. Robert fled down Titan Road, then cut right into an alleyway on Coronado until the ground no longer rumbled, and the sky stopped falling. He pinged his location on the com then spoke up when he finally caught his breath, ducking low, careful not to put too much weight on his left leg. "Can't get rid of me that fast."

The Sergeant could no longer ignore the pain. Golovkin cradled his M90 with one hand and dug for painkillers with the other. Searching through the small first aid kit strapped onto the side of his waist, his fingers fell onto a small packet containing two capsules. Just as he tore into the packaging and gulped both pills down, a dust cloud loomed through like an ominous fog, bringing an eerie silence along with it. Golovkin brought up his M90 and leaned up against the wall, surveying the environment for hostiles. Clear. Robert then quickly scoped for friendlies.

"I see you, Gunny." Golovkin mumbled, honing in on the approaching figure outlined in green on his VISR. "Ready and able, sir."

Davis was still sitting on the bench, waiting for his friends to arrive and move to city hall. But it was short lived as he heard one of the Elites barked in orders and footsteps were heard as Davis grabbed his machine gun and aimed his gun at the street. He walked backwards slowed and saw a building behind him, it was twenty stories high and it looked gray and dark as the fog was still here. Davis then saw a grunt walking towards the pod and jumped back saying, "I found him! I found-" bullets went into the grunt's head and he dropped dead. Every enemy near the pod heard the shots and ran towards it as Davis ran to the building and the door opened and closed as soon as he stepped in.

The lobby was all empty and dusty as if everyone had just left the building one day, the power wasn't working here as he walked away from the door. By now, the aliens must of know that he went into the building near the pod to hide from them. Davis radio any ODSTs near him and said, "Those fucking aliens found me somehow, I need backup as soon as possible. He was running up the stairs to the rooftop so he could camp there and shoot any enemies, that dare to come to the roof.

Behind Cover near Stevens Street

Acosta fired her rifle at the charging Elite leading the Covenant squad. Lighting up the leader with rounds which took out his shields. Sergeant Archer was in trouble, and hopefully she'd given him an opportunity to drop the Elite. She had to act fast or he'd be overrun. She put bullets down the alley toward the enemy giving Archer some suppressive fire so he could get to cover. It was short lived as she saw a glimpse of the muzzle flash. Plasma slung threw the air and whirled past her. She could feel the temperature change as the heat passed near her head. She immediately ducked behind some rubble which provided temporary cover. The enemy had sniper positions and Jackals directed energy her way. She could hear the plasma impacting the rubble exploding scorching shards of rock flying out in every direction.

She crawled to the right revealing herself just enough to fire back at the enemy. She wasn't going down without a fight nor was she going to abandon Sergeant Archer. To her right PFC April came running, she had to warn him of the snipers.

"APRIL, GET DOWN!" she yelled at the private first class as the Jackals began to fire at their new target.

Amber led the way leaving behind where her pod had crash landed her rifle at the ready, she looked back at the building that Truman had met his demise wondering if she could have done something for him when the lightening hit his pod. "Stick close to me Donovan and Croft." Amber said both of the ODST's nodded at her following her orders as Amber went through destroyed buildings and rubble making sure that they weren't in the streets in case of any Covenant troops were nearby. The probes were wrong and didn't want to take any chances when the covvies were close.

Lightening struck again as Amber started getting closer until she finally reached Jameson's location and spotted him and ran over towards Jameson taking off her helmet blood from her forehead was still wet. "Good to see your still kicking sir." Amber said looking around knowing that some of the members of GHOST had made contact with the Covenant on the ground already. "Orders sir?" Amber asked.

04:27 Hours
23 August, 2550


“Captain! The Covenant drop ship, it’s making a break for high orbit!” exclaimed Ensign Alonso as he spun around from his console, the readout on which displayed a LIDAR image of said ship moving at high speeds on an ascent trajectory taking it up from the surface of Solace Colony.

“The intense storms raging throughout the planet’s atmosphere would have likely masked us from their ship board sensors. They are unlikely to have detected us.” Chimed the soft electronic toned voice of Oberon.

Approaching the Captain’s perch and the holo-emitter where the visage of the AI was displayed, Commander Campbell looked over the readout showing the trajectory of the Covenant craft. It wouldn’t be long until the ship was clear of whatever disturbances had hidden them from being detected, and then the party would take a whole other tone. “Ready all weapons, and prepare to engage!” she called out aloud, almost drowned out by the loud claxons as they sounded again.

“Oberon, give me a firing solution!” commanded Ramsey as he leaned over the railing of the Captain’s perch, looking out through the viewport at the stars shifting down and away as the Wanderer began to maneuver around for a shot on the Covenant ship. “Mister Smythe, on my command I want you to put a MAC round clean through the sons of bitches!” he added, addressing Lieutenant Junior Grade Smythe, the Wanderer’s chief tactical officer.

“Aye sir!” replied the Scotsman, who worked furiously at his console to ready the Wanderer’s Mark-IV Magnetic Accelerator Cannon. Though smaller than those carried aboard the UNSC’s premier ships and Destroyers, the Mark-IV Mini-MAC still packed quite a punch, more than enough to handle a small troop ship like the one accelerating up from the surface.

“Captain, the firing solution is locked in.” announced Oberon.

“FIRE!” Ramsey commanded, and Smythe obliged his CO. There was a moments delay as the lights aboard the bridge dimmed and flickered, the result of the immense power surge required to fire the MAC; then the ship was filled with the loud booming thump of the super-dense solid ferric tungsten slug reaching critical velocity before clearing the ship. Just beyond the viewport is the barely visible thin red trail of the round as it speeds away at roughly 10,000KPS.

“ETA to target is five seconds.” Announced Oberon.

In the distance, the purple reflective hull of the Covenant transport is back dropped by the dark swirling clouds of the planet below. Just barely becoming visible to the naked eye as it rockets toward the Wanderer, the countdown in everyone’s mind ends just prior to the sudden and violent result of their single fired shot. The Covenant ship is struck center-mass by the super-dense slug, and in an instant a hole a square meter across is torn through from bow to stern. The Covenant ship then tumbles uncontrollably end over end as atmosphere is vented and burned off in seconds, before finally the craft is obliterated when it’s ship board power core goes critical.

A moment of silent persists aboard the Wanderer as the bridge crew feels a sense of relief wash over them at having destroyed the enemy ship with one single shot. “Any chance they got any communications off?” asked Captain Ramsey as he looked to his left at the holo-emitted image of Oberon.

“Negative. They never had a chance.”

- - - - -

04:27 Hours
23 August, 2550


By now all of the Covenant ground forces were well aware of the presence of the Ghosts; either by the sound of their drop pods hurtling down from the heavens at super-sonic speeds, or the red streaks made as their drop pods tore through the atmosphere. While the surprise of the sudden incursion had lingered, that feeling quickly faded once orders came from their Ship Master, Kor’Vetal. Immediately spurred into action by their respected squad leaders, the Covenant patrols began moving about the wrecked city on orders to search and destroy.

The opportunity to fight and kill the infidels was exactly what several of the other Sanghelli officers were chomping at the bit for, and when this opportunity presented itself, they were all too happy to oblige. Barking out commands at their squads of Unggoy and Kig-Yar to move, they wanted to coat their hands in human blood.

The alleyway leading toward the triangular intersection of Stevens Street


Marching like barely tamed ravenous dogs, the Grunts continued to make up ground as they made their way toward Archer’s position. They kept their weapons aimed, if poorly so, and continued to blast green glowing bolts of searing hot plasma in his general direction. The bolts splashed randomly against the scorched and burned walls of the alleyway, tearing away big super-heated chunks of cement and cinder block that rained down over Archer’s armor.

“Kill! Kill the human!” blurted out one of the Grunts in a gutural high pitched voice as it marched onward, unaware of the fragmentation grenade the Staff Sergeant had thrown. Awareness came quickly to the grunt as the fuse of the grenade triggered in a loud deafening boom that echoed against the alley walls. Instantly, splinters of jagged steel exploded outward in all directions, tearing into the closest Grunt, and two others behind. As the screams of agony bellowed out from the three Grunts, large chunks of blue blood and flesh splattered against the walls.

Stunned by the concussive force of the grenade, a fourth Grunt hesitated to duck for cover, and he was caught by in a hail of bullets that had been fired from Archer. While Archer sprinted in a north direction, the Grunt staggered backward, eventually landing in a lifeless heap.

Having bore witness to the deaths of several of his Grunts, the first of two Elites, this one armored in blue, grabbed one of his Jackals by the arm and thrust him forward, blurting out some sort of command in his native language. He then raised his plasma rifle and fired several quick bursts of plasma off into the direction that Archer had ran, howling angrily at the human.

Stepping up beside his blue armored companion, the red armored squad leader raised his own plasma rifle to take a shot at the human, but instead was also struck by a flurry of bullets. Protecting him from physical harm, his personal shields flickered and flashed in response to the numerous impacts. Disorientated by the sudden and vicious assault, the red armored Elite ducked down into an adjacent alley just as his shields overloaded, and went out. Waiting a moment for them to recharge, he reached for a plasma grenade attached to his waist, and triggered it.

Peaking out from around the corner, he quickly flung the pulsating grenade in the general direction of where he taken fire from. Arcing gracefully in the air, the grenade landed roughly two meters distance from where Acosta had taken up position, well within the blast radius of the device. The grenade hummed and pulsed as it lay there for an instant, just about to explode.

- - -

The T-Intersection of Maynard and Fremont


The largest of the Covenant patrols was led by a Covenant Zealot, denoted by the unique color of his armor, and the shape of the helmet that adorned his skull. This patrol continued to advance on the pinned down McCoy, firing wildly at the burnt out shell of a car he was using as cover. The already charred and burnt aluminum skeleton of the vehicle had begun to glow white hot as it absorbed blast after blast of super-heated covenant plasma.

“Ahhhhh! Fuck!” cried out McCoy as the ambient heat from the blasts of energy were searing at his flesh, cooking him alive; but there was no where he could go.

However, as the patrol grew closer to McCoy’s position, they were suddenly assailed from the west by Corporal Anders. His first trigger pull had netted him one unsuspecting Grunt, who’s skull had been opened up like a can of beans. His second plinked at and triggered a cascade effect of one of the Grunt’s methane rebreathers. In an instant the volatile gas began spewing out from the Grunt’s tank on his back, then ignited in a brilliant blue explosion that engulfed another of the patrol’s Grunts, setting it ablaze, and even in the constant rain it still burned for quite a long while before dropping dead.

As the blue bits and pieces of the exploded Grunt fell back down upon the rest of the Patrol, the group of Jackals reacted and raised their forearm mounted shields, just in time to protect themselves for a hail of Anders’ bullets. Two immediately raised their weapons in Anders’ direction and began firing green bolts of plasma at him; at third raised his weapon, but instead began overcharging its weapon.

Not too far from where the Jackals were firing at Anders, another Grunt caught a single well placed round on the side of it’s skull, and dropped to the asphalt in a lifeless heap. Seeing another of their comrades fall victim to the impressive shooting of the Ghosts, the trio of firing Jackals began to back away from Tenjer’s position, clearly intimidated. As they backed away however, they retreated right into a Fragmentation grenade that had been tossed by the Corporal. There was a reverberating boom as it detonated, causing their shields to flicker and flash out as shrapnel peppered their unprotected bodies from behind, tearing them apart.

Angered at the deaths of so many of his troops so quickly, the Covenant Zealot barked a command at his one of his blue armored subordinates, who in turn pointed their weapon in the direction of their assailants, and fired a single blue bolt of plasma that struck glancingly off of the left Tenjer’s helmet. Though it was a miracle he hadn’t been killed instantly, the plasma splash would have left first degree burns over a good portion of the left side of Tenjer’s skull, as well as turning his helmet into a molten piece of ruined equipment.

As the other blue armored Elite reached at his waist for a plasma grenade, there came another brilliant flash, though this one hadn’t been caused by the lightning above, nor another fragmentation grenade. Instead, it came with an incredible ear shattering thud that left the Elite and his patrol momentarily disorientated. One of the remaining Grunts panicked as his eyes and ears stung painfully, and he fired blindly into the face of another Grunt, burning the flesh clean off from bone as it collapsed dead.

Letting out a great bellowing growl, the Covenant Zealot pulled a plasma grenade from his own waist, and after actuating it, errantly threw it in a daze. The round pulsating device arced in the air as it fell upon the driver’s side seat of the car Corporal McCoy had taken cover behind. In a brilliant blue splash of plasma the grenade exploded, tumbling the burnt out vehicle up into the air, flipping over several times until it came to a rest at the embankment of a pile of debris.

Corporal McCoy had also been thrown from his place of refuge when the grenade detonated, having been launched roughly twenty feet away. He landed in a heap among a small bit of burned refuse, his armor thudding painfully as he didn’t move. The entire left side of his armor was singed and burnt badly, no doubt McCoy had sustained some injuries in the blast, and when his status pinged yellow, it didn’t look good.

- - -

Near the intersection of Josten and Titan.


“I found him! I found-“ came the Grunt’s cut off words over his squad leader’s comm, who turned toward the Grunt’s last known location. Raising his plasma rifle he fired a solitary shot into the air to get his patrol’s attention, then grunted out an order to attack. As they ran after Davis who darted into the lobby of an old burnt out hotel, the red armored Elite pointed his own plasma rifle at him and fired.

As Davis fled into the old burned out hotel lobby, the logo of the ‘Hyatt’ company was still barely visible on the destroyed marble check-in counter. As he tried to traverse the stairs up into the upper areas of the old hotel, the stairwell crumpled and collapsed beneath his feet, meaning he was trapped on the ground floor. Entering cautiously through the open lobby, the Covenant began searching for the assailant that had killed one of their fellows.

However, as the red armored Elite and his blue armored subordinate approached the lobby, a single loud bang sounded and the blue armored Elite groaned out aloud as he clutched at his leg, which had just been blown off at the knee. Though wounded, the Elite still posed a serious threat if left to live.

A moment later a staccato of weapons fire sounded as bullets pinged off of the red armored Elite’s shields, which flickered and flashed. “Corporal Davis! It’s Wiley! Tuckk and I are just to your west!” announced the young ODST as he slapped a magazine of shredder rounds into his MA5C, and pulled the charging lever.

“It’s an ambush! Aggghhhh!” cried out one of the Grunts as it ran for cover, shooting randomly in the direction it had assumed Tuckk and Wiley were shooting from. The several blasts of green plasma struck supporting pillars of the hotel, and the entire structure rumbled slightly. The hotel, like the other building in the city, was a crumbling shell, and could collapse at the slightest sign of stress.

- - -

In an Alleyway between Titan and Fremont


Just to the south of Davis, Tuckk, and Wiley; a small Covenant patrol began encroaching upon Corporal Silva’s abandoned drop pod. The Grunts led the way, their weapons raised and ready to fire, backing them up was a lone Jackal who’s shield was charged, and lastly their blue armored Elite squad leader. The Elite barked commands at the others as they made their way over the twisted and charred wreckage of the two half collapsed buildings that made up the alley way in which Silva had landed.

To the west of Silva on Titan Road were Sergeants Danforth and Leonid, who were making their way north to meet up with the Corporal before heading north to assist the others. “Where are we?” asked Leonid as he looked about the dark street, his M7S shouldered and leveled down the alleyway where Silva had landed.

With a deep sigh, Danforth stepped over closer to Leonid, and looked down the alleyway. “I already told you, we’re on Titan Road, just south of Josten Avenue. According to this readout, Corporal Silva should be just down this alley, and Corporal Laurent just to the north.”

- - -

Just up the road, Corporal Laurent gradually came too. Her drop had been pretty rough, as her pod had slammed through the burned remnants of an old video board. As her vision cleared, she looked about her drop pod, and tried to reach for the latch release of her drop pod door. But as she leant forward, a strong shooting pain arced up through her back, and she recoiled in reaction. “Nnnnh!” she gritted her teeth, reaching a hand around to grab at her aching back.

- - -

Near the corner of Coronado and Titan.

As old charred steel beams twisted, and concrete slabs cracked, the top forty or so stories of an old burned out building in the northeast part of the city starting hurtling down in a hurry. The thunder of the storm overhead, and even the echoes of battle were drown out by the earth quaking calamity that chased after Sergeant Golovkin as he scrambled to escape. In fact, the very ground beneath the feet of the Ghosts and Covenant shook as the massive structure pancaked down upon itself.

Standing just outside of the collapsing structure, Master Gunnery Sergeant was tuned into his comm data, noting the yellow emergency ping of McCoy’s status. “McCoy!” he called out over the comm retreating from the structure as debris began to rain down over his position. “Can anyone get to McCoy!” he asked as he dodged a twelve foot long steel beam that crashed down just in front of him.

“Shit!” he exclaimed as he looked up and saw the top ten stories of the collapsing structure lurch in a westward direction; instead of pancaking neatly down onto itself like it had appeared, the collapsing building would rain down onto Titan Road. “It’s coming down over the west!” he announced over comms to Golovkin, just as the Sergeant burst from the façade of the building, and landed atop an old burned out car. “Move your ass!” he exclaimed.

Jameson saw more debris falling about him, and decided he’d better move himself. As he sprinted away, he could feel the ground rumbling beneath his feet, and heard concrete and steel smashing to the earth behind him. When the rumbling stopped, a thick cloud of ash and dust lingered about the northeast area of the city, which made it difficult to see and move in. Still, Jameson heard the call of Golovkin as he made his way eastward on Coronado Way.

“Golovkin! Good!” he acknowledged the Ghosts still alive status, and motioned for him to follow. “We need to move!” he said as he patted him on the shoulder, and took off to rendezvous with Croft, Donovan, and Mullan. Along the way, Lance Corporal Sanders caught up with Golovkin and Jameson.

- - -

Just north of the alley leading to the T-Intersection of Maynard and Fremont

When Jameson, Golovkin, and Sanders met up with Mullan, Croft, and Donovan; they were just north of the alleyway that lead down to the T-Intersection of Maynard and Fremont. Where Corporal McCoy’s status had pinged yellow, and the others were engaged with the Covenant in combat. Taking a short moment to check his arm mounted data pad.

“Alright, priority one is the large patrol due directly south. They’ve already engaged Anders, Brewer, and Tenjer to the west, and Ross to the east. We’ve also got at least one potential casualty in McCoy, and I want to secure him for either Acosta, or Silva.” He points to the alley leading directly to the T-Intersection of Maynard and Fremont, looking at Mullan and Golovkin.

“Once this primary group is down, Gunny I want you to take Golovkin, and at least two others to back up Davis, Wiley, and Tuckk. I’ll take Croft, Donovan, and Sanders; and head to back up Archer, Acosta, and April.” He looked to each of them to ensure they understood their orders, before nodding. “Move out!” he explained as he began moving south down the alleyway that lead to McCoy’s position, his weapon leveled, and ready.

The T-Intersection of Maynard and Fremont

“Can anyone get to McCoy!”

It was Master Gunnery Sergeant Jameson, who was asking over the Comm-link, Jace soon realized as he slammed another fresh shredder magazine into his battle rifle. "I'm working on it, sir!" He replied as dozens of little green globs of super-heated plasma streaked passed him barely, sizzling away at whatever was left of the warehouse behind him. Re-acquiring the Grunts via his scope, he soon noticed the dangerously large green glow of an overcharged plasma pistol. "Shit!" Was all he could manage before throwing himself to the ground and rolling behind random metallic ammo crate that had been thrown from the warehouse behind him during the planet's glassing. More plasma began melting away the cargo box, as the overcharged shot crackled above him where he was stood just seconds before. He could feel the heat of it wash against his suit. He knew he couldn't stay there for long.

Turning back to face his comrades, he noticed Tenjer taking a glancing shot of plasma to the side of his face. His helmet began to sizzle way and Jace could start to see burnt flesh. "Tenjer!" He yelled over the three-way comm between himself, Brewer and the recently struck marine. Anders didn't have time to move toward him before the crate began to completely melt into slag. Rolling to his left, Anders quickly aimed his rifle as he lay prone on the sidewalk. Squeezing the trigger once more, another set of bullets were sent flying into one of the Grunts assaulting him, silencing its' sustained plasma fire. He turned to look at Tenjer, who was still under heavy fire. "Tenjer, get your ass behind some damn cover! Brewer, we're going for McCoy, cover me and I'll cover you!" Pushing himself up off of the ground, he could see, in full view, the Zealot who had almost killed McCoy with a plasma grenade and was now striding toward his fallen comrade to finish the job. "Oh, hell no!" He exclaimed, firing bullets into the patrol group to provide Brewer with a window to move.

Then, moving quickly, he dived behind the husk of a burnt out car, narrowly escaping the hail of fresh plasma that had been sent to kill him. He opened up the detachment Comm-link. "We're gonna need some immediate back up at Maynard and Fremont, I'm Oscar Mike to McCoy's position but these Covies have almost got me pinned!" He let off a few wild shots in his enemies' general direction, hoping to slow their rate of fire. "Not to mention the big, ugly Zealot motherfucker making his way toward McCoy to finish the job!"

As all the chaos in the fighting took place Tenjer suddenly felt his face burning, a plasma bolt that hit him in the head had melted off part of his helmet and his face was left partly burned. He flinched for a split second, but you had to be tough to be an ODST so he didn't roll over and groan like a normal marine would. He clenched his teeth tight though to try to control the pain, and let off another burst as he did so killing one more grunt. Just then Jameson asked over the com who can get to McCoy, once Ander's answered Tenjer said "So am I sir!". Suddenly though he heard Ander's yell at Tenjer to get in cover while ordering Brewer to help save McCoy. Tenjer replied in the three way com-link "You ain't taking me out of the fight that easy", though he did roll over behind a nearby empty barrel. He looked over his cover and began firing again on the Covenant, specifically aiming at the Zealot who was starting to make his way to McCoy. He hoped that he could either slow him down, or distract him.

McCoy moaned and groaned in pain as he felt the holt bolts of plasma burn at his sides, tears running freely as he panted heavily. His heart pounded heavily against his chest so hard that the ruined plates among his destroyed armor could be seen slightly vibrating among his exposed chest. The top of his helmet was now exposing the top of his head, showing off his mohawk as well as a few burns here and there. Darkness fogged his vision as he stirred to a sitting position, firing of both plasma, and bullets drumming his ears. He looked over to the closest to him, which just so happen to be Anders. He smiled weakly, coughing a bit before cupping it with his mouth.

Suddenly his smile disappeared when his vision came to him, looking around as the situation came clear to him. His eyes darkened behind his skull visor, looking over at the covies that would be his targets. Adrenaline pumped furiously through his veins, his blood coursing, demanding for their own blood coating the pavement of this former city-now-graveyard they created. He looked down at himself, groaning as he shifted himself up, responding in case Jace heard him, "I'll live just give me a minute before I bring the SAW out on these bastards." He looked over at his red flesh by the bits of missing armor on himself before seeing pulling out his flare gun, seeing that his beloved weapon was not beside him, only his M319. As he crouched beside Anders, pain shooting his body as he was shaking to fight through it, he saw the approaching Zealot coming towards the duo of the burnt car. He could see Tenjer and Anders both firing at the shields of the approaching warrior, it's shield flaring out just when both the other Elites fired them both back into cover. Gatling smirked, holding the flare gun with both hands to steady his would be aim at the fucking thing that nearly killed him.

"You're the one who threw the grenade huh? Well Split-Jaw," He mumbled to himself, still glaring at the monster as it approached. "I'll make sure Ready has a new shoulder pad!" He yelled, red flooding his vision as he quickly aimed the flare gun at the alien, firing the round straight toward it's head. It hit it's mark, hitting the monster straight in the eye as it began roaring in pain. Gatling smirked before cursing as he ducked back behind cover, panting as he grabbed his grenade launcher that was beside him, popping in a smoke round into the chamber as he looked over at Jace, suggesting, "I got an idea. I'll pop a smoke round over at them, and once the fog rolls in, you carry my big-ass back over to the rest of the guys. That sound like a plan Anders?"

Brewer, saw McCoy take a hit acting immediately he got on his com "Cover your eyes guys, Shits about to get bright when the flash bang goes off head over to us." pulling the pin on a flash he chucked it with all his might at the group of covies hoping to blind and stun as many as he could so they could get McCoy over "Red rover,red rover send McCoy on over." He yelled.

Near the T-Intersection of Maynard and Fremont


The attention the Covenant patrol had been paying to the pinned down McCoy was now aimed directly at the trio of Ghosts to the west. As thunder and lightning continued to flash over head, the two remaining Jackals moved forward to provide cover for the remaining members of the group, while simultaneously laying down a sustained blanket of fire. The two armored Elites moved to take up firing positions behind the Jackals, laying down their own sustained fire.

As the last four Grunts attempted to move back and set up in similar fashion behind the two protective Jackal shields, one of them was caught clean in his snout by a burst of Battle Rifle fire from Corporal Anders. Spinning around on one leg before dropping to the ground, there escaped a soft gurgle of blood before the creature finally died.

Having noticed their dwindling numbers, the three remaining grunts panicked, and began to turn and run back down the street, but not before another was caught with one well placed DMR shot to the mid-section, dropping to the pavement. “We’re done for!” barked out one of the panicked Grunts as it threw it’s arms up into the air, and began running.

Growling angrily at the cowardice of his Grunts, the Zealot turned his plasma rifle back to the trio of Ghost to the west, and he opened fire with several four round bursts. He turned to his blue armored comrades, and hollered orders at them. Then, as he resumed moving closer to where McCoy’s position was, he felt the peppering of sustained weapons fire from one of the Ghosts, and his shields flashed and flickered as they defended him.

Trying to duck behind the two Jackals for cover, his shields snapped out, leaving him vulnerable to harm. Unaware of the movements of McCoy, he focused solely on the Ghosts to the west, barking out orders to his squad. That is until he felt something smack against one of his mandibles, and singe the soft tissues of his mouth. Brining a clawed hand to his face, he pulled a burning flare from his jaw, and tossed it to the ground as he growled in agony. As he saw the flare burn the ground, he also noticed his own purple blood, and one of his mandibles on the ground. The flare had torn it from his face, maiming him in a severe manner.

Growling angrily again, he turned back to the trio, then to McCoy, and then to the street behind him. Deciding on a hasty retreat, he barked a barely discernable command at his two subordinate Elites, then he switched on his active camouflage, disappeared into thin air, and made for the south to regroup.

His patrol however didn’t follow suit, and maintained their assault of Tenjer, Anders, and Brewer. The two blue armored Elites split up as they approached McCoy’s position, one heading west to continue firing on the western group. The other began bearing down on the sprawled Ghost, following his Ship Master’s orders to kill the one that had injured him.

The blue armored Elite raised his weapon to shoot at McCoy, barely twenty or so feet from him. But before he could fire, a hail of bullets peppered his shields until they flashed out, then penetrated his chest armor and flesh underneath. In all at least ten rounds had penetrated, and with a great bellow the Elite sprawled backward and fell onto the street, purple blood oozing from his wounds.

Releasing his just spent magazine, Jameson retrieved another from his ammo pouches and slapped it up into the receiver, and charged another round into the chamber. “Move!” he hollered out to Croft as he fired on full-auto at the three remaining Covenant troops, getting the two Jackals to turn in his direction, exposing their backs to the western trio.

Lance Corporal Croft then climbed up over the same mound where Jameson was perched and firing from, and moved over to help McCoy up to his feet, moving him back to the alley, where he’d at least be free from fire.

“Waste'em!” hollered Jameson in his comm at Anders, Tenjer, and Brewer.

When the Jackals turned, they were met with another brilliant flash, as Brewer’s flashbang went off, and blinded the snarling creatures, who were now entirely defenseless.

With the Covies now defenseless Brewer stood and unloaded on the Jackals blowing them away "Hah, good timing." He shouted into his comms lowering his weapon "We're clear, but we need a medic on the intersection of Maynard and Fremont" Brewer finished walking over to the corpses he began to loot the bodies taking plasma grenades and other things with him.