This was just an idea I had running around my head while playing ODST. I always liked stories from the perspective of a marine, and not the chief. Anyway...Enjoy reading it. Or not, your choice.
Street Contact
The marine squad slowly marched in loose formation down the deserted streets of New Mombasa, rifles raised and ready. It was night time, which made the patrol even more dangerous. There was no telling where the Covenant were.
"I don't like this, bro," One of them whispered.
"You said that twice already." Another replied dryly. "And yes, we agree. So stop saying that."
"Cut the chatter." Their sergeant snapped. "There's a reason we're doing this at night. It's so we won't get spotted. Your talk is gonna defeat the damn purpose."
They continued in silence, the four soldiers looking at their surroundings warily. None of them wanted to be the first one to die.
Their sniper ran up a flight of stairs to a small balcony and dropped to a knee, scanning the area with his night vision enabled scope. "Uh, sarge? I see something. Around...That building to the...North-West, maybe a hundred meters." He said over his radio.
"Get down!" The sergeant ordered and took cover behind a small car. "Details, corporal."
"I'm seeing a Brute...No, two Brutes, one of them the leader ones. A bunch of Grunts, no more than four...And I think a Jackal or two." The sniper replied. "I got a Brute in my sights, permission to fire?"
"Negative. Wallace, O'Connor, move up and take positions by that over turned truck. Move!" He ordered over the radio.
The two men acknowledged with a 'Yes sir,' each and sprinted to cover behind the truck. "In position."
"Good." The sergeant said. "Samson," He addressed the sniper. "You still got that Brute in your sights?"
"Yes sir, they're stationery."
The sergeant nodded to no one in particular. "Fire on my command." He replied. A click of static was the confirmation that the sniper received and understood his order. The sergeant zoomed in with the scope of his battle rifle and set the fire mode to three round burst. He took aim at the first Grunt he saw. "Wallace, O'Connor, fire as opportunity presents itself."
"Got it."
The sergeant steadied his aim, then gave the order. "Give 'em hell."
The sniper rifles report echoed through the city streets as the heavy anti-materiél round punched through the Brute's shields, his helmet and his head, killing him instantly. "Down." He reported and panned to take aim at the next Brute.
O'Connor and Wallace opened fire with the MA5C's and shredded two unfortunate Grunts that happened to be standing too close to the marines. They both ducked down as plasma bolts scorched the truck they hid behind. One of them cooked a grenade and threw it over the cover. "Frag, up and over!" He shouted. A second later, the grenade detonated. The shrapnel simply bounced off the Brute's and Jackal's shields, but it tore another Grunt to shreds.
Samson took careful aim at the second Brute's head. He followed his target around and waited till he was presented with the perfect shot. The Brute had stood still to open fire on the sergeant with it's spiker. He pulled the trigger and the round hammered through the Brute's head.
The sergeant smiled as the spiker rounds stopped firing. He stood up and spotted the last Grunt running away, as it's leaders were dead. The sergeant grinned and placed three rounds in it's back, perforating it's methane tank and piercing it's heart from behind. The pressurized methane escaped through the hole as a jet, propelling the Grunt forwards and into the Jackal.
The Jackal was knocked back, and before it could recover, or bring it's shield up, it was gunned down by the two marines behind the truck.
"Cease fire," The Sergeant said over the radio. "Samson, anything else?"
"Uh...Nothing on my scopes." The sniper replied.
"Copy that..." The Sergeant replied. "Wallace, take point. O'Connor, cover him."
Wallace switched to his shotgun and moved forward cautiously while O'Connor scanned the area with his assault rifle.
"Clear!" Wallace reported.
"Got it. Squad, move up!" The Sergeant ordered and ran towards Wallace's position. They quickly stripped the dead Covenant of their plasma grenades and took a plasma pistol each.
O'Connor frowned as he took the weapon from Samson. "Ugh. Give me a M6 any day."
"Quiet, Private. These things can strip a Covie of it's shields with a single overcharged shot, and that's more than what the M6's can do." The sergeant replied.
They quickly continued on their patrol. "Man, the Covie's gonna have that squad replaced by daybreak I tell you," Wallace said.
"And then we'll just keep killing 'em." O'Connor replied. "Like we always do."
"But they'll keep coming back!" Wallace replied sharply. "It's like...It's like it's all pointless, ya know?"
"It's not pointless." The sergeant countered. "They keep coming, we keep killing. Small battles win wars men." As they continued moving forward, the same words played over and over again in his head. Small battles win wars...
But then, how many battles would it take to win this war? A hundred? A thousand? He shook his head to clear those doubts. He was a marine first. And he had a job to do.
Better get to it, then.
~FIN~
Ack, crappy ending, I know, but it was the only one I could think of. Anyway, reviews would be welcome..
Cheers.
~Schizo