A echo of bustling boots and hunkered attires made its way in and out of the deployment hall. The Stranger of Darkness rumbled with the muffled sounds of explosions from what seemed to be outside of the ship's hull. There was no doubt that atmospheric Banshees and Seraphs were assaulting the ship's hull with as much prejudice as possible. Yet the vessel was still intact, so that was enough to make the occupants feel safe for a while. Those on the ground already engaging in their fights must be suffering heavily, though there were many areas on the surface of Oman where victories were being made by the UNSC. The surprise attack had worked mostly, and the assistance from the early reconnaissance teams prior to the invasion saved many lives from ambushes. However, there was still the threat of the Covenant, even if their presence was known. That was what the UNSC were here for. That's why they wanted to find out what why they lurked on this Shield-world.

"Spark, on your feet. We're dropping in 1 minute." A slap around the head snapped Lucas out of his trance, where he was met with Lucinda Graham, his Gunnery Sergeant, staring at him blankly. She was in her own combat-zone, where her mind would only focus on the objectives and nothing else. No social time. No interactions. That was her downside sometimes, loosening her connections with the others in Squad Chariot 9-4. She once again nodded at him, handing Lucas his specialised helmet. Lucas reached out his gloved hand, taking what he was given and reattaching the H.M.S.S onto the mount.

Little time passed before he was back on his feet, pushing past a few ODSTs still in their briefing to reach his designated pod. The drop was always considered a fun or tense moment in the lives of and Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, but for once this tensions was getting to Lucas Hickery. He didn't feel nervous his own life, by no means. It was the lives of everyone here. This mission, it seemed to be more of a scrambled objective than a real operation. Either way, he had his orders, and he had his moment to shine. When he eventually reached the infamous box that threw soldiers from the sky, his hand firmly grasped the edge of the entrance before pulling himself inside. The seat was always quite comfortable, and it had to to ensure their arse's wouldn't be torn to shreds after a drop. It only took a few button-pressing for the doors to close themselves, his weapons already clung to the sides of the drop pod. A crackle across the comms-channel echoed within his ears as the voice of his IC, First Sergeant Griggs, began to take over the noise of the muffled explosions. His pod began to shake a little as it started.

"Chariot 9-4-1 to all callsigns, listen in. Today we're being dropped directly into the heat of this Operation. Our goal specifically is to land relatively close towards one of the high-profile Operations outposts of the Covenant Expeditionary forces. This is their major staging outpost. This is where they are landing their troops. This is where the UNSC Marines are preparing to assault and we're going to be their supporting infiltration force." A chuckled voice suddenly took over from where the IC had paused, from which added the ODST banter that usually occurred during these incursions.

"Good thing the grunts are getting us! We're the arse-kickers of this planet!" The interruption was only met with a few chuckles. It was one of Private Osuma's specialities, apart from marksmanship and all, to rise up and add some humour to the drops. However, it wasn't long before a voice cut over the smart-arse comment. This was the voice of Lucas Hickery.

"Save the jokes until after the briefing, Osuma. You're awfully loud in this drop for a sniper."

"The only thing louder than him at this rate is the shit running down Graham's leg. Anyway, we've got to ensure we land at our designated DZ with minimalist distance to ensure that the surrounding teams at other objectives do not get scrambled. This is a precise landing, so be prepared to take the controls ahead and alter your angle. DZ will by hot, Osuma will be landing elsewhere to provide support, but we'll all be going in likely with guns pointing at our backs, fronts, sides and likely above. This ain't no cake-walk. Get this ready, and we'll make it back in time for Austran's birthday."

As soon as his words were over, the pods began to move in synchronisation. The supports holding the racks began to adjust them into the positions of the drop-holes. These were where the pods were almost fired out straight into the atmosphere right towards their target zones. This was where the magic of the ODSTs started. Yet, this magic was far from coming true today...

A crackle and creak echoed throughout the briefing room, as the Squads finishing up their briefings around holographic tables were almost completely cut off by this worrying sound. Even those inside their pods, Hickery included, as they felt threatened by what seemed to disturb the beast they were safe within. The sound seemed to cease for a moment, before a blaring alarm shunted itself into the ears and helmets of everyone within the room. A jolt within the hall threw a few of those unprepared onto their sides, sending them slipping into certain banisters or into other fellow comrades. The jolt seemed to happen quickly, too quickly for anyone to react at first, before a tear seemed to rip itself through the flooring of the ODST bay. Parts and poles of the ceiling began to topple downwards, wires and elecritical sparks burst out from multiple angles as those unprepared once again lost their balance and composure. This deadly blow jolted the pod of Lucas greatly, throwing his head about in his seat continuously as he frantically tried to regain his awareness of the situation. Suddenly, all he could witness was the loss of hope that suddenly flooded those in the room. The floor to his left began to rip open, a spew of fire and debris shooting up into the room and flooding those who were unfortunate enough to be above that impact.

The floor shuddered more, as several crewmen not dressed in ODST gear found themselves being set alight, and several ODSTs and other working naval officers were thrown into the abyss now created within the launch bay. It was as if the room was tearing itself apart bit by bit, piece by piece. Nothing could be done, especially by Lucas. Being strapped to what seemed to be a chair, the comms began to light up with the frantic tones of those in their pods.

"W-What the hell? Drop the pods...Drop the fucking pods!" The shouts of the lower ranks began to fill his headset as the helmet scrambled to make any sense of the situation. The man within that helmet was just as confused as everyone else. In response to the call for panic, Lucas tried to initiate the emergency release mechanism directly linked to the pod, but the electric damage being caused in the room made it impossible to manually release.

"I'm fucking hooked into the latch! I can't loosen it..." He tried to shake and press the mechanism release over and over, frantically staring at the damage through the ceiling reaching where his pod was. The ceiling seemed to be collapsing in on itself, as those talking over the headsets from other squads seemed to be cut off mid-sentence by their own screams and calls for assistance. Many in the room were attempting to open one of the doors, or make it to their own pods, desperately trying to get themselves and their squad-mates out of the room that was caving in on itself. "Come on your piece of shit! Detach!"

As if the gods of this Shield-world were listening, a large strut in the frame of the drop-pod mechanism suddenly loosened and swung about the room. Heavily, it collided with several pod release mechanisms, causing them to simply drop without being given any orders. Only a few made it down, and the large strut continued to swing as it too collided with Lucas' mechanism. He was tossed around within his pod as the confined space seemed to warn him of unexpected damage. The clamp holding his pod down dropped only half-a-way, dropping himself down at an angle above the drop-hole. This shaft was meant to fire him down in. This was not the correct procedure at all. The calls for help came increasingly louder.

"Someone get me out of this...damn pod...I am still trappe-" A quick blare of the comms-channel was cut off by the sight of a large strut breaking through the front door of the pod Corporal Nickelson spoke from, only revealing a splatter of blood against the non-shattered windows without any word to be left.

Before Lucas even the time to react to what he had just witnessed, the pod hatch released, and suddenly he was found tumbling within his pod down towards the unnatural earth the forerunners had left for life to discover. All that he could see was the sight of an exploding vessel, far larger than the pod he was sat within. The sight of a blazing ball of fire tumbling downwards was enough to make him realise what was going on. The brandishing of the UNSC Stranger of Darkness was being burnt up; the crew were being charred up likely as well, as all he could remember after was the sight of another drop pod slamming into his own...

---

With his vision only just reaching a blurry state, Lucas gasped awake with great energy as he felt like he was suffocating in space. Everything around him continued to be blurry and out of focus, but the sights weren't going to remain hidden for long. With every second that passed, Lucas could make out piece by piece of what was left of his saving pod. A spark the first, a few lights coming into focus the next. A few more passed and he could begin to identify the sight of smashed reinforced glass covering the release capsule.

This sight caught him off guard, as he continued to breathe heavily from where he was. There was no sound, as far as he was concerned, and there was only the noise of the failed electronics within the pod he was still sat in. It was eerie. It was a deafening silence. He didn't like it one bit.

Trying to sit up in his position, he found out that by his slumber, the pod was tilted to an angle upon impact, probably causing a bit of damage to the environment. Lucas' first instinct here was to scramble for the emergency capsule release mechanisms, but before he could do that a few numbers caught his eye. A clock. It signified the time, still a little blurry, but he could make out the readings. In comparison to what he'd been told at the briefing, he was thirteen hours after his initial drop. Those were not the numbers he'd expected to see. Eventually, he gathered his confusion and pressed the emergency release mechanisms, causing the door to shoot straight off through its pressurised release. A free exit was now in place. Lucas didn't exit the pod straight away. He wanted to hear if there were any reactions from nearby hostiles or friendlies, just to see if he was in the clear or not. With no returning noises, he loosely removed the service rifle from his pod's sides, grabbed all the ammunition he had, all the secondary equipment he could try, and pulled himself loose from his chair.

The sights were just as he expected upon arrival to the shield-world in the first place. He was in some sort of dense forest, where trees had been split or parted. It was easy to tell that the damage had been caused by his pod's landing, but there was no indication as to if any of them were from previous battles or not. And the thought of battles reminded him almost instantly, if it was that amount of time ahead of his drop, had the battle actually finished. From his position, there was no echoing vocal of gunfire nor aircraft, but that could only be a temporary silence. Raising a hand towards his rifle and staggeringly trying to form a defensive stance, he grunting in pain as a sharp ache filled his left hip.

"Any available callsigns...t-this is Chariot 9-4-3...Respond over? I'm going to ping my location for a very short duration..."

---

---

---

---

It was heavier than she expected, but not all that bad-looking. With her helmet set and everything in place, she looked like a certified ODST, something not everyone in the UNSC could proudly say. "The best of the best, they said." She couldn't help but feel proud at that statement, looking at herself in the mirror. Of course when they told her that, what they really meant was they would train her to be the best. However, it still made her smirk at the thought that one day, she could live up to her father's expectations. Someday very soon, she hoped.

The rest of the team were waiting just outside, by a computer down the open deck where pelicans would exchange ground forces. Everybody else had already beat her to their armours, with one member in particular making a point out of it. "What took you so long, Rylei? Are you trying to make Alex and I look bad?" Hibana was, as always, an arse. It got the attention of the rest of the squad though, and caused Rylei to freeze up on the spot.

"I'm detecting an increased heart rate on my monitor. Heart attack, is it Xandre?" For a medic, Chloe had a sadistic sense of humour. It got some members of the squad chuckling, but all in good fashion. She stepped forward and offered a hand to shake, which Rylei took. "It's good to see you, Private. No need to be so tense - it's part of your training to relax. You won't make a good ODST if you keep that up."

There was a subtle nod, barely visible due to Rylei's helmet, which followed. "Right, sorry. I still have much to learn, so please teach me all I'll need to know."

"Oh you'll learn everything, alright." Came the gentle and enchanting voice of Laslow, removing Rylei's helmet from her head with a gentle finesse. "I could always offer you my services in private lessons? I promise I won't try anything too advanced, just enough for us to get acquainted. Perhaps over a cup of tea?" He gave the helmet to Rylei, a smooth wink following his subtly perverted comment. His advance came to a halt as Chloe pushed him away.

"OK, that's enough harassment for one day, Laslow. If you're going to get romantic with someone, perhaps try to dedicate your compliments to one person rather than every girl you meet." At this, Laslow merely shrugged and backed off, opting instead to invite their leader to speak with the three new recruits. As the other members were told to overlook the plan in detail and provide input, the Lieutenant approached the three privates, inviting and confident. "Privates! It's good to have you here. I apologise if the team gives you any trouble - please refer them to me if they get a little... 'unruly'." His gaze swept the trio with a piercingly analytical eye, as though mentally noting them, judging them. "I've heard good things about the three of you. Apparently you work well as a team, if need be. I assure you we're going to need all the help we can get on this mission, so your cooperation is appreciated."

"Token Squad is a team, and you're now officially a part of it. I know we're throwing you lot in the deep end here, but apparently you have quite some experience under your belts already. For now, focus on staying alive. You've got plenty of time to develop into some fine ODSTs, so remember your training with the Marines. So long as you've got our back, we've got yours."

"We'll do our best, sir." Alex's voice was deep and course, which made him sound older than he really was. Despite being the youngest of the ODSTs, he was more driven than even Rylei, though despite this was incredibly easy-going. He had a calmness which was almost inspiring - much more-so than their leader apparently was. "We'll keep an eye on one-another, just like always."

There was a nervous chuckle from Lieutenant Heights which took Rylei by surprise. It wasn't the chuckle itself, but the fact their Lieutenant was nervous somewhat confused her. What was even more confusing was his response. "Well, good to know you're with us. Sorry, I actually get a little anxious when it comes to giving speeches. Good to know it didn't completely flop." He turned back towards the rest of the squad and waved the new recruits over. "Lets get you three notified on how this is going to go down. Since this will be your first drop, it'll be good to know that everyone is on the same page."

The team all stood around the bench, and a three-dimensional hologram appeared of the covenant base in which they would be assaulting. Morgan cleared his throat to get the attention of the squad. "Our mission is simple. We're going to be assisting the infiltration of a Covenant Expeditionary Outpost, along with another ODST squad, Chariot. However unlike Chariot, Token is largely going to be providing support, namely thanks to our two sharpshooters." A brief pause came as the hologram shifted to show much of the future battlfield, including the nearby hills which Token would be providing support from.

"We'll be splitting into two fireteams. Fireteam Oswald will consist of Simone, Laslow, Alex, and Rylei. You will be our support, providing cover from Covenant ground forces with long range weapons and explosives, so that no Banshees or Wraiths get the best of our primary force. You'll be working alongside the Marines, so you should be able to support the main team fairly well. Your position atop the hill will give you plenty of advantages, however remember to watch your flanks. Myself, Chloe, Karma and Hibana will be working with Chariot and the attack force to assault the base, under the name Fireteam Lockhead. Lockhead will be stationed at one of the base's flanks, allowing us some easy entry. Once inside, we'll begin thinning out the Covenant from within, helping the UNSC advance. Assuming all goes well, this outpost will be a suitable location for stationing our own troops in just a few hours, and could help turn the tide for future battles."

A stern voice spoke up from among the Squad. "When do we begin?" Quizzed Karma, driven with a deadly dedication to the cause. Morgan looked at his datapad.

"About two hours from now."

---

Rylei awoke with a start, though suddenly regretted her immediacy as her back began to ache. Her body hadn't yet prepared for her sudden jump-start, and her mind was barely processing everything around her. She could see the sky, dim and bare, faded of the day's light as night was sure to set in. Or was it morning? Her pod hadn't given her much to go on, as all of the power has been drained, for whatever reason. A steady wind brushed past, inviting through the broken glass of her pod, with tree branches curling around the sides of her pod, like a baby in a giant, metallic and wooden crib. Aside from that gentle breeze, everything was silent. Everything was still. Everything was stagnant.

It all came rushing back to her at once: The scrambled release of pods, the tearing and burning of the Stranger of Darkness, and the collision. It practically knocked her unconscious when it happened, though through some stroke of luck she remained awake just long enough to make sure she wouldn't crash head first into Oman. Beyond that she was out, the last thing she could remember being the nervous orders of her Lieutenant to 'hold on'. Whatever it meant though was a mystery.

Lazily, painfully, Rylei released the glass shield door to her pod, which sprung off with incredible force. Thankfully it didn't fall back down on top of her, and collided with the ground beside her pod. She listened carefully for sounds of any activity, but the only thing she could hear was the wind, which subtly faded into silence.

Complete silence.

Not a single voice or gunshot, not a bird or a beep or even the wind. Just silence. If it weren't for her own heavy breathing, Rylei would have thought she'd gone deaf. This ritual of listening to nothing lasted about a minute, until Rylei could finally be snapped from her thoughts and officially be brought to the realm of complete consciousness. Despite the pain in her back she grabbed her sidearm and sat up, scanning her surroundings. She had landed in a clearing in the middle of the forest. She couldn't remember a forest being mentioned anywhere in the mission briefing. Wherever she had found herself, it wasn't going to be easy to find her way back.

Once the surroundings were cleared, the ODST grabbed her equipment as well as her food and water, and filled herself on field rations. However long she'd been out for, it was enough to make her feel incredibly hungry and thirsty. The quick snack wasn't met with any activity, and so she took a moment to think her situation through. As she stared at the utter destruction her pod had caused to the local flora, the reality of Rylei's situation began to sink in. She was on a distant planet occupied by the Covenant, without her squad, and completely lost. She'd never really experienced a situation of this kind before - without direction or guidance. It was rather unbelievable. And for the life of her, Rylei had no idea what to do.

She took a few more minutes to rest and recuperate, as well as adjust to her situation. Her first priority was to find someone. Anyone. A Marine or ODST, it didn't matter. So long as they weren't the Covenant, they could work together. Her second priority was to find her squad mates. She was almost certain they had dropped with her, so she had a feeling they were alive and out there somewhere. It was finding them which would be the hard part. Once she had reunited with her squad, she figured then they could work out what to do.

Where would she even begin, though? Without any real sense of direction, Rylei figured she could be anywhere. Nothing in the forest stuck out as a guide towards where to go. There were no trails or tracks to follow of any kind.

However, there was a transmission.

Rylei waited a moment before transmitting back a response. "Chariot 9-4-3, this is... th-this is Token 6-4-8." It was hard to talk with her throat still trying to moisten after having a drink. She needed to think about how to properly communicate. She had to use Token's callsign. "Ready to receive your location... How copy?" Over the mic, her breaths were slow and laboured, indicating she likely had just awoken alongside Lucas. She cracked her legs as she stood, trying to get them awake and ready. Chariot was a name which stuck with her - it was the ODST squad Token would be supporting in their base assault. Perhaps he would have a better idea of what to do. Rylei wasn't even sure if this was normal yet.

---

@LetMeDoStuff

---

---

Going over his equipment once again, Edward mumbled to himself as he went through his mental checklist. Seeing some empty space left in his backpack, he wondered wheat he should take. Extra ammo? No, Notso had two extra boxes of 9.5x40 with him. Instead, he packed extra water and a spare rangefinder battery. His equipment ready, he joined the rest of his squad for the briefing lead by Staff Sergeant Snipes.
”Alright kids, here’s the game plan: In five minutes, we’ll be dropping onto Oman. A marine platoon was supposed to secure our drop zone, but the Covenant presence turned out to be too much for them to handle. That means we’re going in blind under manual control. If the marines can secure a landing zone, they will deploy homing beacons for our pods to lock onto and land on autopilot. If they can’t do that, we’ll have to find our own place to land. Twitch, that’s you. Preferably on the Covenant’s flank.”
”We’re relying on the marines? Ed, you’d better start looking for a good spot right away.” Defort’s Army origins were still apparent, but the comment earned a few chuckles among his peers and glares from the former marines in the group.
”Last reports mentioned Jackals led by Brutes. Once we land, Notso will concentrate on the Brutes to thin out their leadership, cause a bit of chaos in their ranks. When we clear that, we are to join the marines in their objective, subordinate to their platoon leader. I see no hands, so get to your pods.”

Drop

The events surrounding the landing on Oman were everything but according to plan. Things went to hell sooner than he thought they would as something hit his pod with a gut wrenching thud about a hundred meters above the ground. Whether it was AA fire, another pod or perhaps a stray banshee, it sent his pod sideways at a 45 degree angle, skipping across the ground like a rock on a pond, snapping trees like toothpicks before finally coming to a halt in a small forest. But perhaps it was this accident that saved his life. Whether the Covenant were preoccupied by different engagements or thought no one could survive that impact, they didn’t bother sending anyone to check the pod’s crash site. It was unlikely he would have been able to defend himself in his dazed state had they sent a squad over. It took the rest of Mako 6-2 twelve minutes find him. When they finally arrived, it took the combined efforts of Shepard and Rosenfield to pry open the hatch, bent out of shape by the numerous impacts, releasing him from his confined prison.
“Don’t you think it’s a little bit weird that a guy who specialises in opening doors can’t even get out of his own drop pod?”
“Oh, sod it Defort. Where did you land and where do we stand?”
“Half a click that-a-way.” Staff Sergeant Snipes waved his hand in the direction Edward’s pod came from, “Not too good, but at least we’ve found each other. The marines have been wiped. The Stranger bit the bullet minutes after our drop. Debris is no doubt due to start falling soon, but where they’ll land is anyone’s guess. In the meantime, our objective is still standing. Let’s go, staggered column. Twitch, take point; Lineman, rear.”

Thirteen hours later

Edward didn’t dare peek from cover, the footsteps were still too close. After the ambush that decapitated the squad, they tried to disengage and lose their pursuers in an orderly manner, but with Corporal Nero’s crushed leg, it left only him and Toogood to cover their back as everyone else was busy carrying her. In a spectacular case of his brain failing, Ed told Ian to find a position further back while he held the ground. No longer than five seconds later, a grenade planted itself neatly in the tree Edward was hiding behind, giving him only a split second to act. Although he managed to save himself by jumping into a small crevice, the victory rang hollow as there was no way for him to get back up to his squad. He spent the next ten minutes in the woods playing a dangerous game of hide and seek with half a dozen Jackals that separated from the main force to hunt him down.

The sudden transmissions startled him. Much to his dismay, it wasn’t anyone from his squad. Taking a careful look around himself, he almost whispered, still panting for breath.
“Chariot 9-4-3, this is Mako 6-2-8, grid 4BFG 326 228, I think. Sure pinging your position is such a good idea, what if the Covenant catch it? Can you send coordinates or landmarks instead?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
Dean wasn't as ready as he thought he was, he couldn't be less unprepared for the assault on Oman, besides his training and gear his mentality was all but fine. The pelicans flew into the Oman atmosphere, it shook as it entered, around him was his squad, most young, fresh faced marines, he'd hate to see them die, making sure people don't die is his job. A few minutes later and the door opened, thirteen men leaped into the flurry of neon plasma plants and gunshots, the first few teams experienced casualties, most dying, Richard Stock was the first back on the pelican, Dean being the one to pull him back, then after a long battle of attrition few more were killed and Jahana Chakarov was wounded, she was brought back to the pelican and then, just as fast as they arrived, the pelicans abandoned the marines to their deaths.
There were only five left, five marines left of squad sierra, however, the bodies of sergeant LaChance and lance corporal Will Pipes could not be found. Privates Jahana Chakarov and Richard stock were the ones to leave, the only marines left were privates Daniel Mckenzie (wounded), Antonio Ciro, lance corporal Eechiro Takeda, corporal Zhou Xi and corpsman Dean Booker. other squads had landed with them, one such belonging to the pathfinder Edward Harper, Dean made his way to them in order to treat any wounded marines.
@Starlance

A low sigh escaped Vick as he laid his head back onto the cement wall of the destroyed bunker he and a few random Marines had taken shelter in after the enemy began bombing their outpost. The silence nearly brought Vick and the others to sheer madness. He looked around with tired eyes to see that the others weren't looking to hot either. Sleep had become rare in the past few days thanks to the Covenants constant attacks on their outpost and had left many scattered around its brutalized remains. Ammo, food and medical supplies were also becoming scarce thanks to a well placed strike on their main compound that contained such supplies. In total twenty Marines remained in the outpost, five were with him in this bunker while the rest were scattered somewhere else. If that didn't sound shitty enough, he had also been separated with the remaining members of his team. After a day of trudging and ducking into cover he had stumbled onto this outpost. He thought it'd be easier then the frontlines, but he quickly learned there was no frontline anymore as a wave of Covenant forces assaulted them. Its been like that for days now and the remaining UNSC Marines of outpost Charlie were beginning to break.

He scoffed and lowered his head with a dry chuckle. "Great first deployment," he mumbled while shaking his head. After a few more minutes of dead silence the radio that was set up in the bunker came to life and was able to transmit Vick and his fellow Marines froze and stared at the radio with shock before one of them, Sam if Vick could remember correctly, rushed towards it and began to mess with it to clear up the transmission. After a few frustrated grunts several voice sprang up from the radio and a large smile found its way onto the Marines face.

"Holy shit, more people! Ha!" Sam cackled as he cleared his throat and began to respond. "This is Sargent Sam Peters of Bravo team 1-4 with the UNSC Marines, if any UNSC personnel can hear me we are located at outpost Charlie, north of-" he was cut off as a Marine near a caved in wall received a plasma shot to the head. He collapsed under his weight and as he crashed into the ground all hell broke loose. An eruption of gun and plasma fire filled the sky and distant screams echoed over the field. Vick scrambled to his feet with his rifle in hand and dived towards the same caved in wall the Marine had died next to.

"Fuck!" he shouted with frustration as he peek out of his cover to return fire with the oncoming Covenant forces. As he fired burst rounds and began to identify the threats. "We got Grunts and fucking Brutes closing in, light those bastards up!" he roared over the gunfire before continuing his own assault. Sam grunted and went back to the radio.

"We are under attack by Covenant forces and can use assistance from any near by UNSC personnel! I'm marking our outpost with a distress signal, be advised Covenant forces are south of our position so watch where you come in fro- ARGH!" he howled in pain as a needler round buried its self into his back. He fell to his knees, but before he crashed to the ground he set the distress signal and grunted before letting his weight take over. Vick watched as Sam fell and gritted his teeth in anger.

"Damn it!" he screamed before popping back out of his cover to empty his entire magazine in the enemies direction. He went to reload and found only a few magazines remained. Hopefully back up will arrive.

---

"Hey Jinxie, try not to doom this mission with your powers." Corporal Jast Vjun teased as he passed by Srin's bunk. She scowled an unconvincing scowl.

"I already told you not to call me that!"

"You like the nickname."

Srin sighed and went back to fiddling with an inert grenade. At least she insisted it was inert. No matter how many times Sgt. Penlan had yelled at her and given her extra duties, Srin kept bringing explosives into the Barracks. Vjun thought it was hilarious, but Li was noticeably on edge when Chéreau was in possession of explosives. The older of the two squadmates seemed to totally believe in the 'curse' surrounding Srin and it slightly ticked her off when he voiced his concerns. She had trained to blow stuff up for just as long as he had trained to beat stuff with his rifle or whatever it is they teach the normal ground-pounders. Oh well. Some things could not be helped. In the long run it didn't matter what Li or Vjun thought, so long as they got through the mission. She deftly slipped the explosive core back into the shell and screwed the top back on before tossing it in her rucksack with the rest of the specially marked grenades and flopping back in her bunk.

After what seemed like only minutes came the soft hiss of the automatic door opening and a voice like thunder. Srin's eyes shot open and she jolted up in bed, nearly smacking herself on the top bunk.

"All Bravo Company fireteams report to the briefing room in five minutes! You have five minutes or you'll be riding a Warthog down to the surface!"

The last remark elicited a few laughs from the room, including Jinxie's recognisable laugh, which was somewhere between a giggle and hysterical meltdown. The Explosives Expert swung her feet off of the bunk and brushed her messy hair with her hand halfheartedly before grabbing her vest and boots and joining the rest of Bravo Company in suiting up. Vjun walked up and grabbed one of her boots before she could put it on.

"Damn Jinxie, you have some tiny feet, you sure you're old enough to serve in the illustrious UNSC's Army?"

The sarcasm placed on illustrious made it all too clear how Vjun thought of the UNSC.

"Give me that back you-" Srin snatched the boot back and stuck it on her foot. She had 'borrowed' some extra armour and attached it to her boots. They were a little heavier but they'd also protect her feet better. A worthy tradeoff when dealing with explosives.

Vjun repeated her protest back to her, mocking her accent. Chéreau retorted with a swift punch to his shoulder and wondered if he ever got tired of being an ass. Slinging her rucksack and putting her helmet loosely on her head, Private First Class Chéreau made her way to assembly room with the rest of the stragglers. Li was already there, looking as dour as ever. Vjun was there too, chatting up the Specialist next to him. Penlan slid up next to him and elbowed him hard enough to make him whince and rub his side. The Sergeant wasn't much for words but made her points plenty clear. The lights dimmed and a holo projector of the surface of the alien construct flickered to life. The Captain began to outline the objectives of the mission and all the other details. To be honest, he had a habit of droning on and on and that gave Srin the habit of dozing off. Briefings were so terribly boring...

"... and I know you will deliver! Dismissed!"

Jinxie shook herself out of her daydream and followed the crowd into the armoury to finish suiting up. Technically she was only supposed to be issued three frag grenades, which she did take. But if you added the ones she had modified and stored in her rucksack previously you got closer to nine. Srin laughed to herself as she grabbed her MA37 and a few magazines, which she slung across her back and stuffed into the pouches on her vest, respectively. Last up was the M6C. Some guys claimed it was way weaker than the other M6 models but Srin did not notice or care enough to request a different one. A slight pressure on her back caused her to turn around and catch Vjun, red handed, in the process of writing something on her armour.

"What did you write on my back, Vjun?"

"The truth." came the smug response from the Corporal, who capped his blue pen and walked away.

Srin shrugged and walked into the hangar.

The Pelican bay door closed with a clicking noise and the eight soldiers housed within were bathed in darkness for a few moments before the overhead lights kicked in and illuminated the room once again. Srin blew some hair out of her face and looked around. She only recognised a few faces from the other fireteam. Vjun was the first to cut the relative silence, as always.

"Hey pilot, you better be careful. One of the soldiers down here is bad luck!"

The pilot chuckled and responded in good humour, "I don't care, I make my own luck."

"Wait, are we with Jinxie's team?"

"Yeah didn't you see the giant 'JINXED' written on her back?"

"THAT'S what you wrote on my back?"

Vjun erupted into laughter.

Srin threw a mock pout at the other soldier, "You're trying to get the Covenant to kill me!"

"Can it, all of you." Sgt. Penlan decreed forcefully, "And Vjun, you're gonna clean that off of Chéreau's armour once we hit the ground. That's defacing UNSC property."

---

The past three hours had been rough to say the least.

They landed without incident, and Vjun had even offered to clean the graffiti off of her armour but Srin shrugged. It made him happy and she didn't care much. Li had scowled at Vjun but said nothing. The Sergeant was too busy trying to organise the other squad and get everyone's bearings to intervene. They had figured out the general direction of the Marines and ODST squads that they were supposed to attach to and started walking. Thank goodness their helmets had intricate navigation systems; the forest was extremely dense and Jinxie had no doubt she would become hopelessly lost without the nav beacon on her eyepiece.

After an hour or so of walking, the eight man unit ran smack into a Covenant patrol, neither of which had seen the other coming due to the heavy foliage. Two Brutes, a Jackal and three Grunts versus eight UNSC Army troopers at melee distance. One of the Brutes roared in surprised and gored the unfortunate pointman from the other fireteam on his spike rifle. Immediately all 7 remaining troopers opened up with small arms fire. The furry monster died in a bloody heap, the pointman still impaled and gurgling on the weapon. The second brute dove behind a tree to avoid a similar fate. Jinxie dashed behind a rock and wildly sprayed the general area of the enemy with her rifle. A Grunt's panicked cries told her she hit something. As a satisfying end to the opening statement, Srin tossed a grenade over the rock, which detonated with a satisfying thump and snap as a tree buckled from the blast.

For the next three or so minutes Pfc. Chéreau peeked from her rock to periodically pepper the vague area of hostiles with gunfire. Eventually she peered over the stone to see Penlan eat a plasma blob to the chest and die stoically firing her rifle 'til it clicked. Vjun avenged the fallen Sergeant by turning the killer Grunt into a blue-green mess of gore. The Jackal screeched as it planted a bolt from it's purple carbine through another soldier's chest. Srin unloaded a burst at it but only one bullet hit the hideous bird-thing in the arm, causing it to recoil in pain and leap for cover.

"JINXIE! LOOK OU-"

Srin wheeled around in time to see Vjun point at something behind her. Something that promptly fired a trio of foot long spikes into his chest, (hopefully) killing him instantly. Jinxie swiveled again in time to see the brute raise his spike rifle for a death blow. However this gave her enough time to raise her rifle to block the blow. The blades chopped into the weapon and rendered it harmless and the monster wielding it pulled the spiker away and with it, the MA37. Srin fumbled for her pistol and managed to crack off two shots before the Brute gut punched her with it's free hand. The blunt force of the blow knocked the soldier back several feet and into unconsciousness. The last thing she saw being Li engaging the would-be killer with his rifle.

---

Srin Chéreau awoke an hour(?) later to silence, save for the sounds of the forest. Her chest ached in pain and she suddenly remembered the events of the last hour or two. She sat up from the damp forest floor with a groan. Dead troopers lay everywhere, it was obvious who had lost this engagement. Although the alien patrol had taken near total casualties as well, the Brute who had incapacitated Jinxie and killed Vjun was nowhere to be seen. That's when she remembered. Vjun!

She ran over to his body. Sure enough, he had died nearly instantly as far as Srin could tell. She tried in vain to yank the spikes out of his cold body but gave up after a couple tries. She wiped tears or maybe sweat off of her face and grabbed his tags and rifle before standing up. None of the other soldiers she checked were alive. She played the grim duty of tag collector as she took the fallen's ID tags and stuffed them in her pocket. The only one missing was Li. She found his helmet but there was no blood or trace of his body. Drag marks or maybe heavy footsteps lead off the site of the battle but she lost them in the soft forest ground. The Nav beacon blinked softly in her eyepiece, reminding Srin of her former goal. Current goal? She took a deep breath and started off in the direction of the beacon.

After a few minutes of walking the radio crackled to life, informing all available callsigns that there would be a ping for a short time at this 'Chariot 9-' whatever's location.

"Chariot, this is what's left of Army Fireteam 2 Bravo 9, I'm on my way to your location, over." The HUD on her eyepiece confirmed the ping had been received and saved locally so she had something to track.

Hey, better than nothing.

A smile of relief struck the face of Lucas as a small flow of relief was released from his inner systems. There were still other soldiers alive, more importantly ones close by. However, the chaos through some of the radio transmissions seemed to make his head hurt only a little bit. It was like Harvest again, in the sense of a slaughter. However this time, it wasn't just the UNSC who got badly hit, the Covenant too must have been hit quite similarly. Though their fleet was superior in size, one vessel was taken out at the beginning of the atmospheric engagement. The Sergeant let his helmet's visor clear up, allowing him to properly look at the surroundings he was dumped within at the failed drop. The view was somewhat aesthetic, pleasing him with the sense it looked like dense forests found on most human colonies. The nerve within him was still there though, even as an ODST. He was in an unfamiliar environment, one that was never part of his preference. Anyone, or anything, could be lurking amongst the foliage.

As he analysed the transmissions that came through, he clambered back into his pod to grab a similar device. A small tac-pad, hard-cased to survive as much pressure as the user did, was his goal, and surely enough he found it with ease. Lucas' fingers trembled slightly with the shock of the unbalanced impact his pod must have suffered from. The tac-pad itself wasn't great in size, but it had as much technical analysing systems as a man nicknamed Spark could ever dream of. These T.A.S's were very useful to him, helping him gain an insight into the newer weaponry of the Covenant, as well as the hopeful discovery of unseen Forerunner technology as well. Anyway, he clipped it onto his wrist slot in the armour and began to wait for it to link up to his own system. Though it felt like forever, only ten seconds passed before it was fully calibrated and ready to continue its work. A slightly slow-paced (in a few minutes) amount of time passed whilst he began to link the radio transmissions up towards his Heads-Up Display map. Two, however, were relatively close. That was the cherry on top of the pudding. Another smirk ripped its way onto his face as he smiled with glee. He had to recompose his tone and voice to not sound too shocked by the tragedy that was this battle...

"O-Outpost Charlie, once I rendezvous with the nearest of the friendlies, I'll link up an assistance, if not distraction, force towards your location ASAP. Try to hold out, but if shit gets too hard, I will take direct orders of any lower-ranking Marines and order them to retreat to Outpost Sierra, if it is still intact." Once the response from whoever was on the radio telecoms of Outpost Charlie now was returned back to him, he switched his frequency to a closer and more high-end reading to contact the individuals who had contacted him in the first place.

There were a seemingly rag-tag amount of survivors still left around the area. Several marines, army engineers and corpsmen somehow managed to find themselves still alive, but who was he to question. Everyone had a way to survive the chaos that was now an unguided war. This battle, the Battle for Oman, was to now be fought on unconventional grounds, at least until a reformed military can find its way on the planet. Although, he began to talk to Harper first...

Mako 6-2-8, this is Chariot 9-4-3. Pinging my location is the least of my worries. Making sure those nearby can find and reunite with me is my priority. As for you, I want you to round up the nearest man, woman or group as you can and head to Outpost Sierra. We need to make sure that there are still signs of life there, so any firsthand information would be bloody useful. Make sure you tell whoever their Commanding Officer is that hopefully more Marines and Army personnel will be headed to their location. I'll see that to your doing. Acknowledge?"

Having finished with talking to Harper, one of the two ODSTs that had radioed in to him, at least by what the tac-pad stated, he continued his conversations to the other groups around him, though not too close. Seeing as the tac-pad stated those who relayed the messages to him weren't of a higher status, it seemed fair that he would at least give them an objective in what seemed to be an empty army fighting without knowing their purpose.

"Fireteam 2, Bravo 9, I want you to make your way towards my location fast. Double time, little exceptions. Out of the three closest to me, you are the furthest, but don't bring a horde of Covenant forces with you. Token 6-4-8, I want you to get here too. Kensington, it is vital that you also regroup with us, seeing as you are the closest. Approximately over 1 minute from my location, to be exact. I don't know your weaponry and armament, but I'd prefer it if you had some way to defend yourself. The Hospital Corps weren't always my most fluently known branch of the UNSC. As for any other listeners, I want you all to head to Outpost Charlie if you are close enough. Those who aren't are to regroup at Outpost Sierra. Do I ma-"

A rounded fist slammed into the side of his head, smacking him and his helmet to aside. Being knocked out of his transmission, he tried to recover as quickly as he could. The surprising blow caught him off guard, yet before his head to see what had hit him the grasp of fingers wrapped around his collared armour, lifting him from his fallen position. The slow lifting gave him time to bare witness to the Sanghelli holding him in his strong grasp. It was definitely surprising, as Lucas began to breathe faster and faster, struggling with only a single arm left free. The 'Elite' seemed to be alone, but that allowed it to be as dangerous as ever. From it's wrist, the small energy-dagger that was constantly hinged onto itself sparked into action, signalising that this was just the leftover cleanup crew of the sector. Quick and clean...That's how the least honourable of Sanghelli liked it.

Upon seeing the blade, and the vicious roar the mandibles of the creature gave, Lucas struggled more, using his only free arm to reach for the only weapon still within his reach...The knife. It only took him a short amount of time to draw his own blade and plunge it into the under-exposure to the mandibles, where the Sanghelli's reaction sprung as well. Flinching in pain, a large streak from the energy-dagger carved a deep pattern onto his chest-plate. Whilst it didn't puncture the armour nor his skin, the reaction of the blade and Elite flinching threw Lucas, again, to the side form the sheer pressure that was applied. This move left him on the ground once more, but nearer to his own armament.

Using a finger-less gloved hand, worn out and charred by the sparks of the Sanghelli's bladed weaponry, Sergeant Hickery reached out, seeing his designated Battle Rifle within his grasp. As soon as his fingers wrapped around the weapon's holding positions, he twisted his current prone stance and aimed at the Elite, pulling the trigger several times and sending an echo throughout the forest, audible to those close by.

Mako 6-2, thirteen hours after drop

Were they still there? He could not tell. Peering through his scope, Ian scanned the forest in a wide arc, looking for any signs of movement. Something rustled in the undergrowth, Ian fired two shots, but missed his mark, hitting the tree instead. In that instant he turned and ran, catching up with the rest of his squad and took cover behind another thick tree, waiting for the Covenant. “Hurry up, one of those bastards is still alive and gaining on us.”
”I know.” Sheridan hissed, “Eyes on the woods.”
Sheridan assumed his place at the tip of the group, trying to find a path traversable for Defort and Shepard with their patient. John moved around a small rock formation and ran into a bloodbath. It was a small clearing, although he couldn’t tell if it was natural or created by the conflict. Bodies, more humans than aliens, littered the ground, but several figures still stood. John froze at the edge and raised his rifle, putting it down immediately when he realized they were four marines and what appeared to be a NAVY corpseman walking towards him. ”Crap, mate, you have no idea how glad I am to see you lot.”

The rest of the squad caught up, still oblivious to the marines. “Wait... Put me down, put me down for a sec.” The squad stopped, setting Nero down by a tree. With a motion executed on muscle memory alone, she procured a morphine injector and gave herself a dose, throwing the empty injector away as the pain slowly numbed. “Good to go, should kick in in ten minutes or so.” Only then did she notice Dean. Toogood arrived last, winded, but obviously happy to see friendlies. “Good. Now we just need to find Twitch and lose the three dozen or howevermany aliens tailing us.”
”Notso, see what these marines have been through, maybe it will help us draw a bigger picture. Defort and I will watch west in case any covenant come.” Suddenly, Sheridan paused and listened to an incoming transmission. ”And Ian? Did you, by chance, shoot at something that vaguely looked like an ODST?”

---

---

Ten minutes behind Mako 6-2
He wanted to scream. Chariot was miles away! Over a hill, an exposed one by the looks of it, too. No way he could make it, even if he was to do so. Edward punched a tree in silence to vent his desperate rage, finally calming down a little. That plan was a no-go. He had to find Mako. ”Chariot 9-4-3, Mako 6-2-8. Got it. The rest of my squad is somewhere close by, I’ll start with them.” His mind raced. But where could his squad have gone? Last he knew they were heading east. They were moving slowly because of Miranda’s injury, so they couldn’t be that far away. But what if they turned somewhere else? It was possible the Covenant forced them to change direction. Edward shook his head. No, he had no other option. He had to go east and hope for the best. He could read terrain better than anyone else in the squad and he could move fairly quickly on his own. Assuming they kept going east, he should catch up quickly. He would just have to be careful not to run straight into the Covenant that were pursuing them. On that note he took off eastward in a hushed jog, stopping every minute o so for a few seconds to take a careful look around before resuming as not to fall further behind.

Following the trail was easier than he initially feared as he kept finding spent shell casings and even Covenant bodies in the undergrowth, not to mention hearing gunfire as well. Single shots, a BR55 by the sounds of it. That meant either Defort or Toogood were still alive at the very least. After several minutes, the trail of Covenant bodies disappeared, but he could see movement up ahead. Edward took a knee to catch his breath and was about to radio his squad when a bullet whizzed by. ”Three, this is eight, I’m following a trail of dead Covenant due east, but taking fire. Human fire, by the sounds of it. Can you confirm your location?”

Passing through the trees, he finally saw the familiar shapes of human soldiers. ”Friendly from the treeline!” he called, walking out of the woods with his rifle raised above his head. ”Made contact with a survivor from another ODST squad, said to head for OP Sierra, get eyes on and if there are friendlies left, tell their CO more help is hopefully coming. Question is, does anyone of you know where OP Sierra is? I don’t recall it being mentioned in our briefing.”

@HumanMusic

---

Srin pushed herself through the treeline as carefully as possible, trying not to make any extra noise as shoved through sticks and leaves and various other obstacles. Though some parts of her mind wanted to panic, to stay still, to throw all her explosives in every direction, her training and more rational thought-centres told her to move towards the objective blinking on her eyepiece as quickly and as quietly as possible. If one squad of those alien bastards could wipe out her whole squad, even a single enemy contact could spell death for the lone Army trooper. After 45 minutes of slightly-panicked-but-kinda-calm hiking, Jinxie pushed herself into a clearing and leaned against a tree to catch her breath and steady her breathing. She took off her helmet and wiped a gloved hand across her forehead. She was sweating more than usual. Nervousness? Exertion? The damnable climate? Who thought it was a good idea to wear all this gear in a temperate forest? Checking all her gear, she brushed a hand through her messy hair and put her helmet back on just in time to catch the start of a radio transmission.

"Fireteam 2, Bravo 9, I want you to make your way towards my location fast. Double time, little exceptions. Out of the three closest to me, you are the furthest, but don't bring a horde of Covenant forces with you."

Okay, orders. Let's unpack this.

Whoever this 'Chariot' was, they seemed to be generally in command of things, which is good. Linking up with other units is also good. "Out of the three..." so there are at least four other units out here nearby. Good sign. "...Don't bring a horde of Covenant with you..." Was there a horde of Covenant that she wasn't aware of? That could be bad.

Pfc. Chéreau shouldered her rifle, satisfied, and prepared to respond.

"Chariot this is 2 Bravo 9, I read you and I'm Oscar Mike, over."

Well it sounded better in her head, but it seemed official enough. Maybe she should have paid more attention when they were going over radio etiquette. She suppressed a laugh at the absurd thought and then set off with renewed vigour. More trees. More rocks. More sticks at EXACTLY head height. More dirt. More leaves. More gunfire. Wait what? Jinxie stopped and looked around, listening. Maybe it was an animal? No it was definitely gunfire. Sounded fairly close. A battle rifle? The Trooper picked up her pace, almost tripping several times on dead Covenant. There was DEFINITELY a squad around here, but where? It couldn't be Chariot, they were miles away still. It had to be another squad, maybe one of the ones that Chariot had mentioned. Jinxie bit her lip and stared at a dead Jackal as she tried to plan her next move. Following the bodies seemed like the best course of action. Worst case scenario? She runs into the rear of a Covenant patrol tailing this squad and gets killed by 1. The Covenant or 2. Friendly fire. Srin shrugged. Probably beats being lost and alone in a dense forest. Giving the ex-jackal one last tap with her foot, she set out again, slightly more aware of where her feet were landing.

Fifteen or more minutes of light jogging later and Srin began to hear talking. Human talking? Yes. Maybe she shouldn't be so quick to trust. Okay, so it's a definitive maybe. She planted herself firmly next to a solid-looking tree and really listened. It turned out to be 100% unmistakably human. So maybe she shouldn't be so paranoid and just trust her gut. Something to think about. Task at hand, right. She peeked out from behind the tree. It looked like they were talking to someone who had just arrived. Maybe she was following someone who was following them. Trailing a trail?

"Hey!" She called out, slightly unsure if they could hear her, "You guys are UNSC right?"

---

---

---

---

"Fireteam 2, Bravo 9, I want you to make your way towards my location fast. Double time, little exceptions. Out of the three closest to me, you are the furthest, but don't bring a horde of Covenant forces with you. Token 6-4-8, I want you to get here too. Kensington, it is vital that you also regroup with us, seeing as you are the closest. Approximately over 1 minute from my location, to be exact. I don't know your weaponry and armament, but I'd prefer it if you had some way to defend yourself. The Hospital Corps weren't always my most fluently known branch of the UNSC. As for any other listeners, I want you all to head to Outpost Charlie if you are close enough. Those who aren't are to regroup at Outpost Sierra. Do I ma-"

The severed line caused a bout of worry to cross Rylei's features, which became increasingly apparent as she heard gunshots echo in the distance. "Chariot? Chariot 9-4-3? Come in?" A brief pause in her transmission was followed by more gunshots. "I'm heading over to check out some rogue gunshots. If that's you, I'll be coming in hot, over." She waited a moment more, however there was no response. Swiftly, she ran to the closest treeline in the direction of the gunfire and raised her rifle, passing by trees and bushes with her rifle at the ready. She didn't stop for a moment, scanning for hostiles and checking her corners while she moved. The gunfire grew louder for a little while, however it quickly came to a halt, to which Rylei slowed her advance. She didn't stop moving, however grew increasingly cautious, and slowed further still the closer she came to Chariot's pinged location.

Before long, she was just outside the clearing, and circled around till she could see what was going on. Her movements were slow and silent, careful to not trip up on any branches nor step on any twigs. Of course this took a little while, however soon she caught sight of what she found both pleasing and a little disturbing: An Elite's freshly dead corpse. Whatever an Elite was doing in these parts she didn't know, and she found the idea of a rogue, wandering Elite quite terrifying. She checked her own back just to be sure there wasn't anything following her.

Silence.

She couldn't make out anything, but now that she'd seen the Elite, it made her worry. Could there have been an Elite dispatched to her own pod just a couple of minutes ago? Could it be capable of tracking her, considering she didn't quite conceal her way over? She hated the idea of getting anyone killed over her own blunder. She chose to wait a short while longer, letting the voices of Chariot 9-4-3 and another soldier fill the area. After awhile, her legs began hurting again, and so she rose to her feet and announced her presence.

"Friendlies coming from the treeline." She announced in a serious yet not awfully convincing voice. However she stepped out into the open area, one arm raised, her rifle pointed towards the ground. Two people: Chariot and another, who Rylei assumed was 'Kensington'. The dead Elite on the floor lay between the trio. The nasty gash across Chariot's chest told her roughly how the engagement happened. "It's good to see friendly faces, I was starting to get worried I would be completely alone. Chariot and Kensington, I assume? I'm Private First Class Rylei Xandre, designated marksman and training sniper for Token Squad." She decided to make her introduction informative and brief, so they wouldn't get bogged down after the attack. She still felt unnerved of the fact an Elite engaged her new comrades. And it made her wonder:

Were there more out there?

He opened his eyes as he panted heavily, finding himself laying down without any movement. His bullet spray had gone through the shields of the Sanghelli, making for a somewhat blissful death in the favour of Lucas. There was a sudden spark of silence once more, before the rustling sound of footsteps and foliage moving caught his attention. Being too tired to move, Lucas let out a sigh, lifting his hand up and waving towards what he imagined were another group of the hostile's fireteam. Lucas' hand waving signified his tiredness and overall understanding of defeat that he'd come to.

"Go ahead, I'm ready for the pickin-" Lucas paused as he saw the emerging figure, clearly of human descent, with the uniform of what seemed to be a UNSC Hospital Corpsman. A smirk came onto his face as he pulled himself to an upright position and cleared the visor from his helmet, revealing his face in person. The female, as he predicted from what he heard on the radio earlier, had to be Kensington. "Jesus Christ! Maybe...Radioing me before you walk into the open would be a good idea."

She immediately went to her business, seeming to question him for injuries at the sight of the dead Sanghelli and the fact that there was now a deep and glaring strike through his armour. Whilst it wasn't visible or exposing his skin, it seemed, to the outside world and the dangers that lurked outside of his BDU, but it still glared brightly from the heat of the Energy dagger. He pressed his own gloved hand onto the marking, flinching backwards at the heat of it. A thin chuckle came from his lips as he removed his helmet all-together, looking from the gash to the corpsman.

"I'm still breathing and I'm pretty sure it didn't get my underarmour. What can I say? Got lucky this time, maybe not so much the next. I could say the same for you." Lucas pointed towards her own near-escape from what looked like a bite mark. Whether it was wildlife on this odd shield-world or a member of the Covenant wasn't fully obvious to him. Then, slowly but surely, the Sergeant started to stagger onto his feet once more, nodding towards his helping hand that had just arrived. He looked at her BDU and weaponry, assessing her as such. "Couldn't of asked for a better medic, and well armed. But you're a long way away from a hospital, Kensington, I presume? Glad you got here quickly. I was starting to get lonely. What brought you down onto the planet's surface, especially if you aren't in any of the outposts?"

He smirked once more, laughing to himself as he put his infamous ODST helmet back onto his head. In doing so, he allowed his visor to remain clear, making the face-to-face conversation less threatening. In a moment like this, where you would hate feeling like the last human on the planet, having a masked face could provide some discomfort. But before he could say anything else in response to her, another sound of rustling was heard from nearby foliage. Almost instantly, Hickery raised his BR55-HB towards where the sound came from, not having enough time to duck for cover. However, before anything emerged, a sound came from the bushes. A human voice...

As he hoped, Rylei appeared from the treeline, dashing her own variation of BDU and weaponry. Smiling visually with his visor clear, Lucas let out another cast of laughter, lowering his weapon and loosening his stance in order to make a better presentation. It was always about the presentation when there was no fighting to be done. They were in the military after-all.

"Private First-Class Xandre? Of course, nearest to me after all. Well, seeing as we're introducing ourselves...Sergeant Lucas Hickery, or as you lot keep calling me Chariot 9-4-2. It's a bloody great thing to see some comforting people rather than...This." He kicked the Sanghelli lying on the floor, prodding it as he took a knee, lowering the scanner once again on his visor. He had a soft-spot for scanning materials and technology, even if he'd already seen it before. But this Elite was different. The markings on its armour were a lot less similar to those they would usually encounter. It's energy-daggers were not a common feature for those that you would find elsewhere. This Sanghelli was different, different in many ways.

"So whilst I scan this beautiful mother-fucker that tried to bludgeon me...What got you guys in this mess? Y'know...my story is quite funny...I was about to deploy from the Stranger of Darkness. Keyword: About. I mean...I was getting into my pod when the whole canopy of the briefing room began to collapse...Collapse...Completely..." Lucas looked upwards, as if he were staring out into the open area blankly. He began to remember everything, piece by piece. "The ship was crumbling...People were...they were falling out of the ship. I remember seeing struts of the vessel impale one of my squadmates in their pods...Not all of our pods even deployed, I was lucky to even get mine free. Then, I saw it...As I was descending, the whole fucking vessel descending into a firey-ball of death. I could seemingly sense it all; the struggle within that ship must have been...I can't describe it. Then the pod, another pod...It slammed into mine, and that's all I remember."

The day was easy at first, get in the landing ship and get on the ground. Easy said, easy done. Next was to secure a F.O.B. for ground missions. With the amount of troops in place that would need to be done. One had been decided on based on lack of covenant activity and its potential to become a natural stronghold. The position was secured fast enough, but a large portion of the troops were not as lucky to make the landing. A little less then a single company made landfall in the correct location, out of the whole battalion that was sent in to fortify the potential Forward Operating Base. Hunter thoughts the events were odd, his particular unit didn't have much of any contact when landing. When the pelicans went to return to retrieve supplies and more troops, that is when things started to go south. It took less then ten minutes before all the available landing craft in the area were shot down or disabled. Air support was still present, but on a very minimal level. Most of the company was picked off within the next hour trying to scramble for cover. Many of the potential fortifications were dependent on AA guns that never made it to the land.

Hunter found himself dragging another soldier from his platoon. He didn't know the fellow soldier's name, only that they needed help and that were was a lot of blood. Machinegun fire shot off from behind him over his head and acted as suppression fire against some of the hostiles that were trying to kill him. The explosions went off behind him sending the makeshift structure into ruins as well as the machinegun giving him coverfire. He tried to pick up the injured soldier in attempts to move him faster, thinking that dragging was easier, but he just lost the only thing keeping them safe. The moment he did so bright purple needles struck their chest, soon exploding sending blood and bits of their uniform everywhere. "Holy Shit!" Hunter screamed as the Marine's life ended.

He dropped the corpse and ran as plasma and other less then fun sounding lasers went by him. He stopped only to try and return fire, only to be forced to keep running. Every once and a while he would come across more soldiers across the makeshift fort. Every time it would end the same, the Covenant would catch up, the wounded would be dragged away, and more would die. Soon he found himself outside the landing zone with his fireteam. Somehow they all made it out alive. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or pissed. He was still on mixed terms with most of them. "Corporal, the fort's gone. What's the situation with our evac? They're killing us back there." The varying gunshots could still be heard from this position. Despite what Hunter had been through it didn't look like his fireteam was doing much better. There was conflict on their current front, so Private Mudak was sent to retrieve more ammunition. Luckly they held out. Not by a lot, Hunter could see that most of the ammunition pouches on his corporal were empty or had empty magazines in them.

His corporal started to speak. "Ride's not coming, most the ships got shot out of the sky after dropping us off. We're stranded. We're not reading anything from Burning hope either. Comm's officer says he isn't reading anything from the whole fleet. Things are bad out here." His team leader took a sip from his canteen before speaking again. "We're traveling on foot to the next closest outpost. We believe it's about a ten hour walk from here. Hopefully what arms and ammunition hold out until then." Hunter was in shock hearing Higgins, they had been there for less then two hours and already most of the company that did land had been killed. The Corporal seemed like he was struggling to speak now. "There's talk... There's talk about leaving behind the wounded, and anyone else who can't make it that far. To save time... The current commanding officer is trying to spread ideas of... using them as bait, and looting them for ammunition." He broke out into a some kind of mix between laughing and crying. "To make it worse, I think I am agreeing with them! The only reason I haven't yet is because I don't think we'd make it that far either way." This lecture continued for a while. It only stopped when Hunter eventually cut him off.

Hunter barely able to speak cut off his team leader nervously. "Sir, they're getting close. If we leave now, we can still make it before it gets too dark." The Corporal just looked up at the young private. "The... The order hasn't been given yet." He spoke it like a true panicked soldier. Hunter didn't hate his squad, but he wasn't going to get himself killed because his officers were too scared to act. "Okay then, I'll just... Go see what I can see then." He left, seeing his team leader for what he thought would be the last time in his life. Now he just wondered who would live longer, himself or the Corporal. Ass of right now, he was AWOL, even if it was just to regroup with other troops.

For hours he could hear the explosions behind him, hearing the cries for help, the screams of pain, the rambling of those few who happened to survive a little bit longer, and when the battery in his headset died, only his own thoughts. "Dammit." Part of his wanted to pull out his personal radio, the little crank he might still be able to pick up some channels of chatter. But he wouldn't be able to reply, and the crank on that thing was not a quiet at all. So now everything was quiet, it had been a long time since he had seen any signs on life, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He was exhausted though, and his water ran out a couple hours ago. He would be fine for a bit bit he needed water by tomorrow if he was to keep pace. At least it was dark now. Now nothing could see him, unless they had night vision goggles... or had natural night vision... Do any aliens in the Covenant have that? Hunter wasn't sure off the top of his head. He also started to think that he really couldn't see that well. He knew the general direction he needed to go to get to the out-post. His whole company did. But the exact position he wasn't sure. Maybe he could find it by the sounds of gunfire.

He could hear the commotion from pretty far. Or maybe it was close and he was bad at telling? Damn he hated second guessing himself like this. Soon he found himself in a rather interesting situation, there seemed to be a fireteam of... Humans? had he made it? He saw the dead elite on the ground. Maybe it wasn't as dark as he thought it was? maybe it was still just exhaustion. He made himself visible, not realizing he still had blood and plasma marks on him. "I come in peace humans." He said half laughing and mostly exhausted. "I heard there was an out-post in this direction? I am lost. And my equipment is more or less useless. SO please tell me you guys know what you're doing?" He was still trying to smile. But he was scared shitless.

@LetMeDoStuff@Delta44@OrizaSaucer

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Between his squad and the newfound marines, Edward finally had some time to process the past events. The Covenant seemed to have broken off the pursuit, at least for now, granting them some breathing space. Other UNSC personnel were still scattered around the planet, no doubt merely trying to survive, but making contact for the first time since the retreat was a big boost to morale nonetheless. Not this guy, whoever he was. Either he’s gone thoroughly mad, or he had a plan in the works. However, that plan counted on them getting to outpost Sierra, but neither he nor his squad mates had any idea where it was and, in the heat of the moment while chased by a squad of Covenant, he forgot to ask for any directions whatsoever. Going through their waypoints and briefing notes yielded no results, leaving them with nothing. Edward tried to remember any conversations he might have overheard before the drop, hoping something would come up, but he’s spent most of the time before the drop in the pod bay preparing his equipment. At least they were safe for the moment, with most of the squad watching the surroundings, Notso and Lineman focused on the west side in particular in case some Covenant were left of the hunting party.

Something, or someone, rustled in the foliage and called out, startling some of the troops. Ian and Patrick both turned to face that direction, rifles raised, as soon as they heard the distinctively female voice from the trees. ”No, we’re a secret Covenant infiltration unit.” Ian growled as he realised it was a human, lowering his rifle. ”Of course we’re UNSC. You can tell by the letters ‘UNSC’ plastered all over our damn suits and lack of scales and slash or mandibles, not to mention the small fact you’re still alive.” He finished and turned back to the marines they found.
”What the hell were you thinking coming at us like that, lady? A slip of a finger and you’d be breathing through a new hole in your chest, not to mention I nigh shat myself.” Defort, too, lowered his weapon.
”Where did you come from? Where’s the rest of your squad?”
”And would you happen to know anything about Sierra outpost? Our Squad Leader and both Team Leaders didn’t make it and if they knew where it was, they failed to mention it.”
”We are supposed to pick up everyone we can and head there on-” Edward paused, realizing he did not even know who Chariot 9-4-3 was. ”-on orders from Chariot 9-4. Guess since you’re here, you can consider yourself picked up, unless you have different orders from somewhere else.” With that out of the way, Edward remembered at least some basic manners. ”Sorry, who are you, even?” He finally got a better look at the individual. A thin figure in an army battledress and something that looked like a explosives strapped to various parts of her kit. Perhaps a little too many for his taste.

@Amaranth

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Jinxie stared at the squad of ODSTs she had just startled. She had to admit, it was a bit unnerving staring at their polarised visors. Regardless, she could understand their jumpiness. Pfc. Chéreau shouldered her rifle and walked closer to the makeshift meeting area.

"I came from about a klick in that direction," Srin offered, gesturing over her shoulder, "incidentally, that is also where my squad is. They uh..." She paused, the memory still fresh and painful. "They didn't make it. As far as I know I'm the only survivor, although one member was missing. I didn't think the Covenant took prisoners?" Srin shook the tangent out of her head. "Either way, that same Chariot contacted me and told me to make it to them double-time, so that's where I've been headed but I'd be glad to join your squad and assist you with whatever you need."

Jinxie put her hand on her neck, feeling guilty about losing yet another squad. It was just like Fumirole all over again. Maybe she really was jinxed. She patted her bag of grenades reassuringly. At least she had decent luck with explosives, right?

One of the ODSTs asked her something about OP Sierra. Sierra.... The name rang a bell but Srin couldn't place where she had heard it. The Army Trooper tapped her chin thoughtfully. "OH! OP Sierra. Yeah we were supposed to meet some Marines and maybe some ODSTs there to help establish a base of some kind. I'm a combat engineer, from the 147th Engineer Corps." Pfc. Chéreau smiles sheepishly at the last remark, "Admittedly I don't know a whole lot about building. I'm more of an demolition type of girl." Jinxie gestures to the demo charges strapped to her kit and laughs her distinctive laugh.

Finally, hearing one of the helmeted figures inquire as to who she was Jinxie gave her most enthusiastic salute and smile, practically jumping to attention. "Private First Class Srin Chéreau reporting for duty! But most people call me erm-" She cut herself off, hesitating at perpetuating a nickname she wasn't particularly fond of but realising she had almost certainly locked herself into saying it by getting this far before cutting herself off. "-most people just call me Jinxie." She smiled again and looked at herself at the laconic visors of the ODSTs.

@Starlance

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Rylei hadn't expected to enter the scene with rifles drawn in her direction. For a moment her heart stopped, her whole body frozen in fear, caught in a moment of tension. However, as the rifles lowered, she unfroze, corrected her stance, and promptly approached the duo.

She nodded, rifle now resting at her hip, loosely gripped in one hand. "Likewise. If I'm honest I'm just a little worried he's not the last one we'll see around these parts. Could be a party sent out to kill those who stuck by their pods, meaning one might be trying to follow me." She didn't want to create tension where it wasn't due, however certainly wanted her thoughts to be known to someone of a superior rank. The thought of a kill squad coming out after dropped ODSTs was a concern Rylei's, especially seeing how late she awoke.

She wanted to talk to Kensington, however there was something... off about her. She appeared agitated, hostile. Rylei raised her hand to deny the offer of water, hoping the medic would get the gesture. As the duo turned to face the newcomer -- a marine, by the looks of things -- she noted where her weapon was aimed. Rylei, on the other hand, barely lifted her rifle, and chose to keep her calm so the marine wouldn't be spooked. "Don't worry, private. We've got some kind of plan figured out." Kensington seemed to be taking care of things, at least, calling the marine over and searching through her things for what Rylei assumed were meds of some kind. She wasn't awfully experienced in the medic field herself, as that was largely Chloe and Laslow's profession, so she let the other woman do whatever it was she needed to do to patch up the marine. Meanwhile, Rylei paid attention to Lucas' monologue as he scanned the Elite, watching the treeline while he did... whatever it was he was doing.

"Funny. Something similar happened to me." Oddly, as Rylei tried to recall the details of her drop, she found her memory to be just a little lacking. She could remember the general gist of it, but noting down the details and specifics were hard. She paused a moment too long, before she quickly realised she was supposed to be giving her own account of the story. "Basically, my squad and I got in their pods on Stranger of Darkness and we were all ready to drop. I remember... something happened. I don't quite remember. I dropped before everyone else, and I believe they followed me out. I... collided with something. Could've been your pod. It sent me almost unconscious, but I managed to steer myself so I wouldn't land headfirst. After that I fell unconscious until just recently; I ate and drank, then came over here."

She turned back around and crouched beside Lucas, removing her helmet to scan the Elite up close. There was something really different about it. Something she didn't like. "So, uh... what's up with this one?" She didn't know quite how to reciprocate her question properly, however hoped Lucas understood what she meant.

In unison to everyone else, it seemed, Lucas raised his rifle a second time when a third body emerged from the treeline. This time it was far from what he'd gotten so far. A younger male in Marine BDU slandered through, without stating his classification, name, nor alerting him of anything prior to his arrival. A private's insignia sat upon his chest and shoulders. It was an act that seemed to send fumes in the ODST's head. Before he could say anything in response, the frantic medic found her place to speak. This too also began to slowly tick off Lucas, but at first, he allowed it to slide onwards until she was finished. A good fifteen minutes had passed since Lucas had shot the Sanghelli hostile, and since then he had sent imagery and scan reports quickly to an already in-contact intelligence unit that had called in not long after the Corpsman had arrived. He had the results just as soon as he was asked, by the other ODST soldier, but he waited for the time being.

From there, he rose to his feet, lifting his own weight and running a fingerless gloved-hand through his hair. Lucas looked directly at the Private, eyes narrow and quite stern. His look was never considered the strongest nor most fear-inducing glare of all, but it certainly did the job when it needed to. Now was one of those times.

"We may have been left a-strand, Private. But if you don't want to end up with one of our bullets lodged between your eyes, I suggest you follow the corpsman's advice...As for you..." He shifted his gaze towards the frantic hospital corpsman that had already stated what Lucas had to say. "I don't need someone to speak for me. And as far as I am concerned, the only thing you said when walking in was about whether I had any injuries, so don't contradict yourself."

With that being said, he picked his DMR off of the ground, lying where he had been previously, and wandered over towards his pod. From there, he began to grab whatever he could from the inside as the rest stared at him in silence. He was about to answer the Rylei's question, he just needed to make sure his information had been processed correctly before he could confirm any grim news he had to offer. And indeed, it was grim. But at least, he needed to let them know of what they were up against in these specific dark times, especially out alone in the forest like they were now. After retrieving extra gear such as magazines, electrical equipment to suit his technical needs and other disabling ordinances on his disposal, he returned to the three who were only a few metres from his pod.

"To answer your question, Private Xandre...This is not the type of Sanghelli we want to run in to ever again. I sent imagery and technical feedback from my helmet camera to Agile Team, a group of Spartan IIIs that I managed to get into contact with when waiting for the Corpsman to arrive. I needed to know if they still had their AI around, which they did. Managed to send them my readings and, well...I heard something I wish I didn't." He took a knee for a second time, this time using his finger to show the trailings and markings on the Sanghelli's armour. It curved and shone still, despite the holder of the armour being far from alive. "This is what we have started to call an Elite Militant. See these markings? And the oddly shaped helmet? This armour signifies that this elite has been selected for a special task. Digging into this information, the AI found out that Militants are hand-picked by Fleet Master Grazo 'Lovamee to assign as...well like their own personal guards and special operations units. They apparently go for reconnaissance behind enemy lines, stalking, ambushing, are known to master Guerrilla warfare and are sent to clean out those unfortunate enough to be left alone. I guess I'm just lucky enough to still be alive. If you look at their wrists, you see slots for what looked like behind-the-hand energy 'daggers' as oppose to a sword. Quicker and easier to use, I presume."

Finally, Lucas put his helmet back on, but kept his visor in a clean view to ensure they could all still see his face. It was important for him as an ODST and superior to ensure they knew what he looked like, especially when information as bad as this was being told. It was a known fact that the UNSC personnel found it easier to talk to soldiers when they could see their expressions. That's what made it so hard to talk to Spartans all this time. Eventually he looked away from the triage to reopen his comms again.

"This is Chariot 9-4-2, once more. I am making the complete order for Outpost Sierra to be moved upon. Those holding out at Charlie, I want you to also move. From what I've heard over radio chatter, it'll take too long and risk more lives to have a team sent to your location. I strongly order you to all pull back to OP Sierra. I have a small group of survivors myself, and I'll meet you all there. Watch your surroundings. Spread the word. If we lose Sierra, we can move to Yankee, but before that can happen we'll all need to make our RZ point the same spot. For confirmation, move to Sierra. I will meet you all there personally. Chariot 9-4-2, out."

He looked at the trio in his vicinity and smiled through his visor, blinking at them several times, before pointing towards the Private that had arrived last. Lucas' comforting grin showed signs of hope and critical planning in his head.

"Someone give this guy a working weapon or ammo...or something...In the mean time, you heard what I said. We've got the Battle of Oman to win."

@LetMeDoStuffyeet, I forgot about this imma just, yaknow, write something...

Dean was afraid, he hadn't expected the navy to leave them behind, it hadn't gone down well with the others either. Dean had almost exhausted his supply of bandages and splints, the biofoam had run out long before that, there were still some marines wounded with only light cuts and burns. Not only were there dead marines but dead covenant as well, from Grunts to Elites, there were dead everywhere, sometimes it couldn't determined which was which. the ground had been hammered down by explosives and boots, coupled with blood, and other excrements, every step had a disgusting squelch. Multiple callings had been made by other squads and fire teams, the only problem was that sierra squad, or team, could not answer, the radio had been shot and long range contact was limited to one way. One marine had enough and kicked the radio before finally hearing the calling of an ODST squad suggesting all units to move to outpost sierra, corporal Zhou Xi chuckled, he was in command now.
"Get up, men, we need to get to the others, Doc, how many can walk?" He asked, the men were anxious to get out of the combat zone, who knows when the next covenant dropship comes to finish them off.
"We have three that can walk from squad alpha, one from bravo, one from delta needs a stretcher and two from echo who will need aid walking. The one from delta needs to get to shelter fast or she's gonna die.", Dean was particularly blunt with his reply though no one seemed to get ticked off.
"Great, we'll move now, gather up men, I want two on the stretchers who aren't moving and the navigator up front with me, Dean you stay with the wounded at the back, we don't want any more dying on us."

The marines had walked for some time, a few stops were needed for the wounded and no where they were running out of water, on the better side of things outpost sierra was within walking distance, you could almost see the structure, that or the men were hallucinating, either way the navigator was sure they were near, all spirits were high until they heard more gunshots, only these gunshots sounded different.
"GET DOWN!" The corporal called, and the twelve dropped, blue plasma shot over their heads, quite obviously from covenant forces. Another blue missile flew over head, but this was not the ordinary plasma shot from covenant weaponry, it stuck to the pack of the engineer Antonio Ciro, exploding and killing two others, Dean looked towards the origin of fire and saw only three beings, one Elite and two Jackals stood, weapons drawn, Dean fired a few rounds towards the elite, hitting it in the unprotected arm, the energy shield sheild was down. The private, Mckenzie, took I think upon himself to throw a grenade towards the trio, ultimately killing the two Jackals, the Elite, however, still stood. It's arm had been blown off, it made a shrieking noise then proceeded to charge at the private, plasma sword drawn, all marines who could fire fired, it took every hit before finally digging its plasma sword into the privates chest, finally, it fell to the ground, bullet holes gaping anywhere armour wasn't, Dean, in a fit of rage, fixed his rifle into full auto and began shooting the alien.
"Doc! Doc!", Eechiro tried calming him, for now it worked.
"What! We're all gonna die, we can't fucking survive alone on this planet."
"That's right, we can't...", they all fell silent, then, the young private Gale spoke up.
"We won't die, there're Spartans, remember, Spartans are here with us, we can win back this planet with them on our side!", a bit of hope entered the soldiers minds, putting light in their eyes, but, they all knew that encountering even one spartan on this whole planet would be near impossible. The eight left, outpost sierra was closer than expected, a safe zone where they could resupply and treat their wounded, they entered without checking for hostiles, luckily there were none but there was still the whole planet of Oman...