"First squad, you're my scouts. Move out! Quiet as you can," said Sergeant Johnson. "Let's get moving, Chief. Come on. I'll lead you out."
Tom quickly followed the Chief, jumping over a log. The Spartan's movements were extremely fluid, almost imitating that of a robot. The group of marines trekked through the jungle, but halted when they heard the loud howling of a brute.
"That sounded close," said Tom.
"Yeah, too close" replied another marine.
Johnson paused for a moment, pressing his fingers against his COM-link headset.
"Say again," said the Sergeant, "you're breaking up."
Suddenly, a phantom flew by, sending a gush of air throughout the area. Ripples erupted in a pool of water nearby. Everyone was silent.
"If we stick together, we're gonna' get spotted," barked Johnson. "We'll split up, and meet back at the LZ. Chief, go with the Arbiter, head toward the river. Second Squad, you're with me."
Tom followed Johnson up a cliff by the small waterfall. He quickly scaled the rocks with the help of his fellow marines. The squad moved quickly, running at a fast jog. Vines and logs littered the thick mud in the jungle.
The marines kept on running for about fifteen minutes before being ordered to walk. Sweat dribbled down Tom's sun-burned face, and he panted out an endless wisp of steam as he staggered forward. A few minutes of running in a hot and steamy jungle, wearing a full suit of combat armor can beat you down.
"Pelicans are en route, Chief, but I can't raise Bravo," said Johnson. "If you find 'em, get 'em to the extraction point."
The squad made it to the outpost without a single fight. Tom sat on a bench as the men awaited lift-off. Small concrete structures faced a big river that rushed down a broken dam. The Sarge refused to rest, and swept both entrances to the jungle with his MA5C assault rifle. From on top of the thick jungle canopy, two pelicans swooped in at a steady pace.
"The birds are here," yelled Johnson. "Get ready for dust-off marines!"
Suddenly, numerous plasma bolts of green and blue erupted from the jungle. They just burned small spots on the plating of the pelicans. Tom instinctively pulled his assault rifle into firing position, and aimed the gun at the left entrance of the jungle. The other marines lobbed grenades at the waves of oncoming grunts and jackals. Explosions erupted from the thin soil, sending mud and shrapnel flying in all directions. From the other side of the river, a thin, but long purple plasma bolt zipped past Tom by a frog's hair.
"Jackals!" cried Tom. "They're sniping of from the other side of the river!"
He snapped his grenade out, bit the pin, and threw it towards the tiny spots of purple popping out from the tops of trees. The grenade detonated, and sent two bodies of jackals flying towards the river. Tom sprayed his entire gun's ammo towards the jackals as spikes and plasma bolts barely flew by. He kept firing until a pelican blocked his view.
"Get on the planes NOW!" barked Johnson. "Get on them, on the double!"
Tom sprinted and jumped into the seat tray of the pelican as if he were running the 75 meter hurdles. He strangled the handles of the .50 cal machine gun as he started spitting out fire at the enemy. Men pushed by him as he tore apart a group of grunts on the dock. The pelican took off, and steadied itself towards a clear area. Tom saw the reflection of the Master Chief's green armor from the corner of the outpost.
But it wasn't the time to focus on him. He had to save the live of his men. Tom fired an endless stream of white hot bullets at the incoming banshees. The quick planes flipped to the side, barely dodging imminent death, and fired their plasma cannons. Most of the bolts burned the surface of the tiny plating on the machine gun, but Tom felt his left arm burn in pain. He ignored it as he kept on firing.
Suddenly, one of the banshees fired a huge green plasma cannon round at a nearby pelican. The round tore the back side of the pelican, sending it spinning towards Tom's plane. The plane crashed onto the back of Tom's pelican, and sent them speeding off into the jungle.
"Get a hold of her!"
The plane's nose bounced off a huge water tank, and sent it spinning down to the canopy.
"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"
The Pelican tore through the thick trees, and crashed smoothly to the ground. The plane slid through a stream, and kept on sliding until it stopped near the edge of a cliff. Tom knew that he was ok, but he felt no pain. This frightened him as he crawled out of the seat tray.
"Everyone alright?"
The words echoed silently for a moment before collective groans arose from the marines. Everyone except for the pilot made it.
"Shake it off marines!" barked Johnson. "There's more of them up there!"
Tom grabbed his rifle, and followed his marines up the ridge, and onto a bridge. The Sarge ordered them to stay alert while he made a transmission.
"Chief, can you hear me..(static). My bird's down. Half a click..(static)..from your position."
Tom couldn't hear the transmission very well through his COM head-set. He wondered if the Chief got the transmission.
"Jackals, on the ridge. Stay low. Looks like they have carbines," said a marine through the COM system.
Suddenly, green plasma bolts lanced toward the men, hitting Tom in his already wounded arm. He shook it off, and fired a burst of fire at a group of brutes on the other side of the bridge.
"Come on, you dumb apes!" yelled Johnson. "You want breakfast? You gotta' catch it!"
The amount of plasma carbine fire dropped as the Chief and the Arbiter took out the jackals. But the brutes charged across the bridge, sending the marines back. Tom lobbed his last grenade, and ditched his assault rifle. Two spikes tore into his chest, sending a stream of blood down his green body armor. Tom let out a cry as he fired his M6G pistol at the huge beasts.
"Disarm yourselves!" roared a huge brute. By his thick, red, menacing armor, Tom could tell that he was the leader of the brutes. "You have no choice but to surrender, or die."
It was holding a huge hammer that was propelled by powerful energy that came from the head of the weapon. He brought it back into an assault position. Johnson dropped his gun, and lunged towards the brute. The leader hit the Sarge with the handle of its hammer, and threw him above his shoulder. Tom was thrown across the shoulder of another brute, and they sprinted towards an area with a dam and a lot of run-down buildings. They were thrown across a broken bridge, and they were carried away to a tiny building.
The brutes threw them to the other side of the room, and activated a plasma wall that celled them in. Johnson struggled to not be thrown into the cell, and attempted to punch the chieftain. The brute grabbed his whole arm with his gigantic hands, and punched Johnson's guts, and kicked him into the cell. The Sarge groaned as he struggled to get up.
"Don't, worry marines," grunted Johnson. "The Chief will get us out of this mess."
Tom saw the Chief and the Arbiter fight at the other side of the river. They were beasts, ferociously tearing the aliens apart.
While he was watching the fight, Tom felt pain burn his arm again. He inspected his wounds closely for the first time. His knuckles were split, his arms were burnt, and some parts of his flesh could be seen from the gaps of the burnt suit. Dried blood stained the small body armor that covered his chest, and two spikes were still lodged in his skin. He quickly pulled it out, but winced as pain shot throughout his body. The bleeding has miraculously stopped, and it didn't start again after he pulled the spike out.
The sounds of battle came closer and closer every second. The screams of the grunts, the cries of pain from the Jackals, and the growls from terrified brutes could be heard as the Arbiter and the Chief neared in.
The Chief finally walked into the room, and stared at the marines in the cell.
"This isn't as fun as it looks," said Johnson. "Cut the power!"
The Spartan calmly deactivated the wall, and the marines were free.
"We're even, as long as we're only counting today," said Johnson. "Kilo 23, what's your ETA?"
"Imminent Sergeant," replied Hocus through the COM Link. "Find some cover. Gotta' clear a path."
Tom grabbed a plasma rifle from a Covenant weapons rack at the side of the room.
"Roger that, Hocus," said Johnson. "Friendly gunship, coming in hot!"
Two phantoms flew from above the canopy, and dropped off a large number of hostiles. They landed on the dam, and started charging towards the marines.
"Hocus!" yelled Sarge. "Phantoms!"
"I see 'em!" replied Hocus, frantically maneuvering her pelican towards the phantoms. "Standby."
A group of grunts charged towards Tom, wildly firing their plasma pistols. He fired a few burst of plasma bolts at the fiends, and lobbed a primed plasma grenade at their feet. It detonated, sending what was left of the grunts and their methane masks flying in all directions. A surviving grunt screamed, and primed two grenades. It waved the grenades as it stumbled towards the Arbiter.
"Watch out!" screamed Tom.
The Arbiter rolled to the side, and finished the suicidal grunt with a single round to the head with his plasma carbine. The Chief dashed past the arbiter, firing his Assault rifle with speed and precision. Two jackals toppled over, and a Brute's gleaming armor fell into crumpled bits of metal. It roared, and jumped at the Spartan, but the Chief simply popped the Brute with the back of his rifle. The crippled body soared backwards into the river.
Suddenly, Hocus's Pelican fired a barrage of tiny rockets at a Phantom. The rounds smashed through the Phantom's plating, and the rest zipped into the center of the ship. Thin wisps of vapor trailed the spent rocket's path, leading towards the crippled dropship. The Phantom exploded in a brilliant coruscation of bright blue light. The debris flew and scattered throughout the river.
"Scratch one Phantom!" said Houcs with a hint of pride.
The Pelican fired a few rockets at the remaining ground forces, and swerved to the right of the remaining Phantom. The Covenant dropship fired its plasma cannon at the Pelican, but Hocus maneuvered the plane out of the way from most rounds. Then, Hocus fired its remaining rockets at the Phantom. The rockets blasted the reactor of the dropship, and the ship plunged into the river.
"Scratch two!"
The Pelican descended at the edge of the dam, and opened up the seat tray. Tom and the remaining marines hustled in and took a seat. The Chief and the Arbiter scanned the area, then hopped in with Johnson.
"Man, that was tough," said a weary marine. "I'm glad that we're going home."
Tom nodded, and stared out at the dam as it grew smaller and smaller every second. The endless jungle later took his view away, revealing the damage the battle has done to the area. Charred holes were scattered throughout the canopy, and small flames still licked the trees. Wrecked Pelican dropships and Phantoms littered the bottom of the crippled rainforest, and the tiny pieces of equipment were lying by the fallen beasts solemnly.
The Pelican landed in a hidden base in the edge of the jungle. It was an old base that was used in the 21st century, and decommissioned a century later. The base was recently reopened for use against the Covenant forces in Kenya, and is now one of the last UNSC strongholds in the area.
Tom and his squad jumped out, and separated from Johnson, the Chief, and the Arbiter. Tom was taken away by medical personnel into the healing bay, and his wounds were quickly inspected and treated for. Bandages covered Tom's whole left arm, his knuckles, and his chest. But he felt fine, and he was happy to be safe and alive.
Tired from all the fighting, Tom decided to take a quick nap in the barracks. He quickly fell into sleep as soon as he slipped into bed.
More Chapters to Come!