It has been a while, but here is six. And if you guys would like to help, I need ideas for names of Brutes and Prophets
Chapter Six
58 hours ago
Saunders City, New Cyprus
“Got anything?” asked a sniper to his spotter as he sat perched in a third-story window.
“Nothing other than those Grunts on the turret,” came his spotter’s reply.
“’Kay then,” the sniper clicked a small button on his helmet activating his radio, “Delta-Four, this is Angel-Nine, over.”
A brief flare of static came through the sniper’s earpiece followed by the voice of Lieutenant Simms, “Angel-Nine, this is Delta-Four, we’re reading you loud and clear.”
“Roger, minimal hostile contact in grid. WOLFPACK can advance over,” the sniper said giving the go ahead for a rather risky last-ditch operation.
“WOLFPACK forward, grid open?” it was the final query.
“Affirmative, WOLFPACK forward,” the sniper braced for what was to come as his spotter checked to make sure his rifle was ready.
“WOLFPACK advancing clear us a path Angel,” now it would begin.
“Roger,” the sniper looked through the scope of his SRS99D rifle and pulled the charging handle loading a single 14.5-millimeter high-explosive round into the chamber. Designed for making quick work of hostile light vehicles, these rounds would be more than adequate for what he was about to do. Drawing the crosshairs across a Grunt manning a plasma cannon, he sighted in on the methane tank attached to the alien’s back. “Week’s pay says it kills all three of the bastards and disables the gun.”
The spotter smiled, “You’re on. Double if it takes more than two shots for the whole crew.”
“Deal,” the sniper slowly pulled the trigger and his rifle bucked. A single round flew out and caught the Grunt exactly where it had been aimed. Methane is highly combustible, even explosive, under high pressure as it was in the breathing pack carried by the alien Grunts. This case was no exception, when the round hit five grams of mid-level explosives detonated and sent a jet of superheated metal into the tank creating a detonation roughly equivalent to a fragmentation grenade exploding. The Grunt who had been hit was blown forward by the blast and fell off the low roof he was on, his remains burning all the way down. Screaming, the other two were consumed in the fiery blast and died almost immediately after.
“Blast, the gun’s toast,” the spotter turned from his scope to face his teammate, “That puts you at what, even?”
Suppressing a laugh, the sniper replied, “Nope, week ahead. That Chieftain bled to death, remember?”
“Shoot now, talk later. Another one popped up, looks like a Brute behind the black car,” the spotter said quickly, moving his scope to the side and bringing his scoped MA5D to bear.
“Got him,” the rifle bucked again, killing the Brute instantly.
“Oh crap! Looks like we just woke up the entire friggin’ pack,” at least a dozen Brutes came out of the building below the gun nest and at least that many came sprinting from further down the street.
“I think they see us!” the sniper said, stress rising into his voice.
“Then start shooting!” the sniper answered his spotter’s request with two shots, emptying his magazine, forcing him to reload. “Angel-Nine to Delta-Four, whole pack of Bravo Kilos moving on the road. Need assistance!”
The men heard the roar and squeal of two M12 Warthogs fishtailing around a corner onto the road the sniper team was covering before the reply came. “Help’s here, Angel. Now get the hell outta there!” Simms ordered over the radio. Both of the Warthogs mounted M41 Light Anti-Aircraft Guns and the soldiers manning them added their fire to the frenzy with zeal. 12.7-millimeter rounds tore into the Covenant ranks dropping several and injuring more. WOLFPACK began its operation with a bang and would not quit just yet.
.
Corporal Burris heard the machine guns’ fire before he even rounded the corner with his big truck. He felt like an idiot driving an unarmed, only barely armored, transport into a warzone, but this was needed. If nothing else, he would get vengeance for his lost crewmate, Walsh, and right now, he desperately wanted that. When the battle came into view Burris shoved the gas pedal to the floor and the truck lurched forward tossing around the eighteen in the back of the vehicle. Only three seconds later he slammed on the brakes he reached a point where one of the Warthogs had stopped, its driver killed by Brute return fire.
“Everybody out!” Burris shouted flipping open the hatch and jumping out of the truck, SMG at the ready. Eighteen more soldiers poured out the rear of the truck and enveloped the vehicle as two more trucks appeared and did the same thing.
“Forward! Give ‘em hell troopers!” shouted Sergeant Harold as he lead the men in a charge towards the faltering enemy line. Within seconds, the air, already filled with tracers from the guns of the M12s, thickened with bullets, plasma, and shards of metal. Screams erupted all around the men as some let out the sounds of death, others in a fit of battle fury, and even more in a subconscious attempt to intimidate the enemy.
In eight seconds the fifty-odd men had advanced seventy meters and fell upon the alien ranks like a furious wave. Burris joined in the fray with a burst from his weapon, hitting a Brute just as another man blasted it with a shotgun. Another man in to the left of the corporal lunged to his left and slammed a shoulder into a Grunt, knocking it down. He ended the life of his victim by hammering it to death with his rifle.
As fire raining in on the humans intensified, the men dispersed finding cover wherever they could. A pile of rubble proved more than enough for Burris as he dropped to the ground allowing the debris to take hits from rounds bound for him. Corporal Nixon dropped next to him, and after a second popped back up to fire his MA5K, but took a Spiker round to the abdomen and dropped, screaming in pain. Burris looked on in fear as the corporal bled to death, his wound mortal and ensuring a very slow death. Unable to take it, Burris broke cover and sprinted up to another group of soldiers firing from behind a car, the terror of combat beginning to soak in.
.
Three more vehicles came in thirty seconds after the trucks. Lieutenant Simms rode shotgun in the first M12 and ordered the driver to pull into a gap between the vehicles. “Vincent, hit it!” he shouted to the gunner manning the Warthog’s Gauss rifle. Solid metal slugs lanced out in rapid succession decimating a squad of Covenant firing down from a rooftop. Fire from the recent arrivals caused a momentary slackening in the alien fire as the scale of the assault caught them totally off-guard. Simms smiled, this was going to work.
Dismounting, he signaled to the infantry riding in the Warthog Troop Transport variants behind him, “Let’s go! Move right the **** now!” was his shouted order and eight men came running with him alongside the Gauss M12 as the new group advanced. Simms raised his personal rifle and started double-tapping the trigger, firing on anything that was not human.
As the second wave reached the first’s position, blue streaks appeared in the sky arcing down on the human infantry. The plasma mortars struck throughout the Army ranks, wreaking havoc and decimating the formation. “Move, move, if you don’t wanna die, MOVE!” Simms grabbed a soldier hunkered down in a doorway and pulled him out into the street, forcing him to run forward, towards the three-meter tall monsters that could tear a man in half with their hands. Seeing the lieutenant pulling men along and taking the lead of the charge convinced many to follow, but not all.
Of the original fifty-seven men, twenty-two joined Simms in his desperate charge and threw themselves upon the Covenant ranks. The first charge had had momentum behind it and drove the aliens back, but now the humans had lost the initiative. Weapons fire cut into the depleted ranks and shredded the remaining men. Miraculously, Simms remained untouched as he came within three meters of the foremost Brute and took it out with sustained fire. The kill emptied the rifle and the Lieutenant drew his sidearm and fired that into the next alien. Three more creatures fell as the lone man continued his crusade.
It was a sight to see, a lone human fighting in a way that was inconceivable to any of his species’ minds. Such acts rarely mark the actor with gracious survival, however. A Brute captain appeared and whipped its Spiker into Simms’ back, the weapon’s savage blade ripping the man open and breaking his back. This was not the end though, Simms used his arms to flip himself over and brought his weapon to bear on the Captain, firing two perfect shots into its faceplate dropping the alien instantly. Another Brute came charging over to the crippled man’s position, ready to end the possessed spirit that was tearing through their ranks. Simms tried to fire, but his gun was empty, so he tore a signal fragmentation grenade off his chest rig and pulled the pin. The arming handle flew off, and with a final breath he cried over the sounds of the gunfire, “Come and get it you mother****s!” Shrapnel ripped into the Brute, Simms, and four Grunts who were scurrying to take advantage of the man’s injuries.
.
Gunfire cracking nearby alerted the two Marines holed up in the ruins of Echo Company’s HQ. “What the-?” Lee said peeking around a table he and Meyers had been hiding behind for the last hour and a half.
“Awful lot weapons firing, especially so close,” Meyers commented, putting voice to both of their thoughts.
“Yeah, but I thought all of Army troops had been beaten out of this sector,” Lee said while reaching for his rifle to make sure it was still there.
Meyers put a hand up on the table and lifted himself to scan the area, “Guess not, but it might just be a counter-attack or something.”
“Who cares? The monkeys got to be distracted by this, and that means we got a chance to get out of here,” the corporal said. He knew he was right, as any distraction to the Covenant forces meant the pair had a good chance to make a break for it.
“Point taken, now let’s get ready to move,” Meyers said as he tried to pull himself. A grimace washed over his face as any movement caused his injured shoulder to throb with pain.
Concern arose in Nguyen’s voice as he asked, “Sure you can make it?”
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s my shoulder, not my leg,” the Marine steadied himself and drew his pistol, “Sure you can keep up?”
“Hell yes,” the corporal braced himself for a quick dash across the street, but paused for just a moment. “D Company’s HQ is closest, but are they even still there?”
“Option one: sit here and die; option two: die trying to link up with the rest of our forces. Which sounds better to you?”
“Number two,” Lee stopped again, “Crap, footsteps.”
“Look again, there from some of ours.”
"Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword never encountered automatic weapons."
-General Douglas MacArthur
The Pheonix War: Pheonix Rising:
http://www.halowars.com/forums/thread/378844.aspx