Chapter II: The Battle
Over the brow of the hill, six Wraiths came into view and stopped on top. From the sides between the tanks masses of Brutes rushed forth-toting Fuel Rod cannons, Brute Shots and stationary turrets. Two Prowlers rushed up over the hill and landed either sides of the Wraiths but slightly further ahead.
The Sergeant stared in shock at the attack force the Covenant had managed to mount. As he continued to watch, a Brute Chieftain rose over the crest of the hill carrying a large Gravity Hammer. These were only close range melee weapons, but they were powerful enough to flip a Hog with ease. The Chieftain, pointed straight at the Sergeant and roared a battle cry.
"Sweet gentle Jesus…"
The Masterchief, seeing the Sergeant paralyzed decided to take control.
"Let 'em have it Marines!"
A large roar came from the Marines as they charged into battle. The Brutes, if anything, looked stunned as to the Marines choice of tactics, but also rushed forward bellowing war cries. As soon as the Marines were within range, they kneeled and let loose with their BA55 Battle rifles. The semi-armour piercing rounds hit the Brutes as they charged headlong into the fray. Brutes fell all around as their power armour vented gas and blew up or fell of as the metal melted off their bulky frames. The Prowlers accelerated down the hill, gunners firing opened fire their dual- barrelled plasma turret. The high velocity plasma projectiles tore through the front line of Marines.
Gauss turrets which had been mounted at the top of the rockcrete structure opened fire on the Wraiths. The Sergeant, snapping out of his daze, assessed the situation.
"Marines! Prioritise targets! Take them out one at a time!"
With that, the Marines concentrated their fire on one Wraith at a time. After a quick succession of rockets and super dense uranium slugs from the gauss cannons, two Wraiths were reduced to balls of purple flame and molten metal. The other four retreated back over the other side of the hill, and angled their mortars upwards.
"HOGS OUT! WE'VE GOT 'EM ON THE RUN!"
The Sergeant roared his command and moments later, eight Warthogs bounded out of the makeshift Motor Pool. Easily traversing the rough ground, the gunners opened fire upon the Prowlers. One took too much damage, and rolled over crushing the gunner and flinging the driver to one side. The other Prowler span around on the crest of the hill and gunned it towards the Warthogs. The plasma turret tore large chunks of burnished metal from the Hogs, flaying one Marine of his flesh. He screamed in pain, let go of the chain gun and fell out of the back, only to be crushed under the mighty wheels of the following Hogs.
The Warthog careened around to pick up another gunner to replace the Marine who was KIA, when noise was heard that sounded like large amounts of energy being dispersed.
"WRAITH PLASMA MORTAR! TAKE COVER!"
The Sergeant shouted the imperative quickly as soon as his keen senses had realised what the sound was. The Warthog, which had lost the gunner, had also lost speed on turning around to pick up another. The driver looked behind in time to see a large blue/ purple sphere of plasma and scream before he was vaporised instantly whilst the Warthog flipped end over end, losing parts and spewing fire as it did so. The second Prowler paused momentarily, seemingly as though it was choosing it's next victim. Suddenly the gunner barked at the driver, and the Prowler sped off down the incline. Moments later, a large plasma bomb hit the ground where the Prowler had stood, sending static electricity through the ground, and large flecks of glass where the soil had become superheated instantly.
The Brutes on foot charged forward dodging vehicles, both human and Covenant. When they grew nearer, they fired salvos from the Fuel Rod cannons. The large green projectiles were similar to what the Hunters carried but had the ability to track a target thanks to the ingenious system which resided in the weapons. A magnetic field inside the barrel allowed the green projectile to maintain shape but allowed for limited tracking. A triumphant roar went up as
one large green blob impacted on one of the Gauss turrets mounted on the roofs of the human structure.
Spinning around rapidly, three of the remaining Hogs brought their turrets to bear on the last Prowler. An entire chamber of LAAG rounds pinged off the side of the Prowler. The tri-barrelled turret in one Warthog continued rotating but ceased spewing forth rounds. The Marine removed his hands from the triggers and banged on the turret in annoyance. He shouted to the driver and the Warthog turned around to refuel and rearm, leaving two Warthogs to battle the Prowler.
Private Caine kept his fingers locked on the triggers. The turret vibrated widely, jarring his shoulders making him feel numb. He paused firing to allow the Marine to turn the Hog around. He trained his sights on the final Prowler again and opened fire once more. Shouting insults and challenges at the Prowler as it came level with the Warthog, Caine got a clean shot and took out the Brute gunner. Grey/ blue blood splattered the inside of the turret and the ground as light anti-aircraft rounds tore through the thick skull of the Brute. The driver of the Prowler roared in defiance and veered off, heading towards the hill. As it left, Caine fired at the driver and was rewarded when the driver slumped forwards against the controls, causing the Prowler to go into an uncontrolled spin. It was largely amusing to see a Prowler spin around in lazy circles of its own accord, it was also dangerous. Concentrated fire on the Brute vehicle from the Hogs LAAG reduced it to a pile of smouldering burnished metal and purple flames.
A roar of triumph went up from the Marine camp as they saw the last Prowler immobilised. Concentrating their fire now, the Marines posted on the Gauss cannons annihilated the remaining Brute infantry with ease, despite the loss. The Brute Chieftain who had stood motionless on the crest of the hill watching the ensuing battle sneered at the circling Warthogs below. Holding his Gravity hammer in one, he beckoned behind him. It now wore a look of pure evil as plasma bombs from the Wraiths rose up behind him and began exploding on contact with the ground. With each bomb hitting, they grew closer and closer. The Warthogs stopped circling and returned back to the rockcrete structures.
"Sir, we can't take those Wraiths out. They'll slaughter us and we don't have enough time to mount the Gauss cannons on the back of the Hogs. What do you suggest Sergeant?"
"I had a feeling this would happen. Just so happens I have a back- up plan that involves your early birthday present."
The Masterchief was puzzled by the Sergeant's comment, and before he could inquire to this comment, the Sergeant gestured with his arm around the back of the rockcrete structure. Even more intrigued, the Chief jogged around to the back. Before him lay a large tarpaulin covering something very bulky. Grabbing one end of the tarpaulin, the Chief pulled and laid his eyes upon his "present."
The large plasma bombs from the Wraith's mortar were slowly gaining ground across the battlefield towards the human structures. Tiren 'Hanae was displeased with the progress so far. Resting the head of his mighty Gravity hammer, the Fist of Racht, on the ground, he began surveying the remaining troops. Four Wraiths remained which were steadily chewing up the ground between them and the humans. Both Prowlers had been disabled and the entire Brute heavy infantry had been annihilated. Still remaining were the Banshee flyers and exactly 20 Ghosts. Admittedly they were being piloted by Grunts, but even so, not even ten human vehicles could stand up to the might of a concentrated attack. He hefted his hammer over his shoulder and marched towards the crest of the hill. If little remained of the humans then he would send in the Ghosts. As he neared the edge of the hill, he saw that the human vehicles had retreated to prevent being obliterated by the Wraith plasma bombs. He raised one meaty fist to indicate the stopping of the plasma bombardment. He roared in triumph and was about to gesture for the fleet of Ghosts to take out what was left when he spotted something completely unexpected, which was most likely going to cost him this battle.
Private Ashin climbed onto the rockcrete structure using the ladder that had hurriedly been attached to the rear. As she did so, the long slender barrel of the S2 AM Snipers Rifle banged painfully against the back of her thigh. Reaching the top, she unclipped the rifle from her back and placed it sideways on the roof as she got into a comfortable sniping position. Private Ashin loved sniping things. From as young as 8 she had taken an interest in her father's hunting trips and tagged along. The thought of killing a helpless animal meant nothing to her, and when she became of age of responsibility, she bagged her first Caribou. She could still remember it now. The wind was blowing toward her so as not to give their position away. She had heard rustling, and after some time finding the source she had the head of majestic male Caribou in her sights. Constantly her father had said to take her time, compensate for wind speed and direction and relax. When she had fired, the rifle round entered the head and blood and brain matter had exploded out of the other side and against a tree as the body became limp and flopped to the forest floor. Even then as a small child, she had shown no emotion towards the creature's death. A few weeks later, it had been her birthday and she received the best present- in her opinion anyway- that she could ever have received. The antlers from the exact same Caribou, which she had shot. She was also given her own rifle. Ever since then she had become a fanatic shooting things in the back garden. More regularly she participated in hunts until she came of age to decide the next path for her life to wind along. Of all the choices she had, she chose the UNSC. Within 2 years of enrolling, the UNSC had seen her potential with a Sniper rifle and she had progressed from there. Her skill increased dramatically and she was commended for her ability to take out targets a mile away. She sighed as she heft the Sniper Rifle to its upright position and peered through the sight. Another easy kill.
The Masterchief jogged to the side of the M808B Scorpion Main Battle Tank and clambered into the control seat. Starting up the engine, he pulled down the cover the driving seat and felt like laughing to himself. He had not expected to see a Scorpion tank here. There was need for one. Or that shouldn't have been, until the Wraiths appeared. Pushing the accelerator to the floor, the tank surged forward with a jolt. Turning the controls slightly, the Masterchief checked the controls for the turret. Swivelling a full 360 degrees, he was happy with its condition and drove it around to the front of the rockcrete base. As he did so Marines stared in awe. Then they began whooping and cheering. The Chief stopped and popped the hatch.
"I'm going to need a little help with the coaxial gun. Anybody wanna help?"
Marines rushed forward quickly covering the Scorpion until there was a gunner and four on either track covering.
"Lets saddle up and give 'em hell. Yeeha!"
The Masterchief closed the hatch again and began clearing the ground between them and the hill. Thankfully the Wraith bombs had stopped, but that did little to convince the Masterchief. If they had stopped firing, then surely they were going to unleash something else.
Tiren 'Hanae roared in defiance as he saw the large human tank crawl from behind the structure. This surely would cost them the battle, unless he decided to change tactics. Instead of sending out the ghosts, he could allow the Wraiths to begin firing again whilst the Banshee flyers took them out from the sky. They would be too busy dodging plasma bombs then to worry about the Banshees, surely. He grinned as his brain thought through the plan and found no holes.
"Banshees. ATTACK! Take them out. Wraiths resume fire. They've come readily prepared but…"
This is as far as he got until an armour-piercing round tore through the flesh of his neck. Reflexively he dropped his hammer and clutched at his throat, or at least the remnants of. He began to breath deeply but the air got no further then the hole in his throat causing his blood to bubble. He slumped to his knees and made a futile attempt at a battle cry, but to no avail. Finally he collapsed on the floor as blood seeped from the wound to mix with the sand.
Private Ashin steadied her aim and scoped the battlefield for anything that was still alive in the wreckages of the destroyed vehicles. The crest of the hill was too high for her to be able to see over and thought that it was needless for her to be positioned here if there was on vehicle targets. She was about to deactivate the scope when a target rose from over the hill. Instantly she recognised it as one of the Brute Chieftains, after all, those Gravity hammers were hard to miss. Aiming at the only exposed section of flesh she could see, she aimed carefully, remembering all that she had been taught and fired. Watching through the scope, she saw the round enter the neck and exit again. The Chieftain dropped the hammer and clutched its throat. Ashin wondered whether to fire again to put it down, but eventually, as she watched, she knew there would be no need as it collapsed in a pool of it's own blood.
The Masterchief heard and saw a sniper round pass over him, leaving the distinctive smoke trail as it punched its way through to its target. As he was low down, he was unsure what they were firing at but, as the tank crawled up the hill with impressive speed, the corpse of a Brute Chieftain lay testament to the sniper round. They peeked the hill and the Chief saw the remaining four wraiths surrounded by Ghosts. Before the Chief could give the order, two Marines with Jackhammer launchers opened fire at the same Wraith and cheered in triumph as it was reduced to a smoking ball of wreckage. The other two Marines sported Battle rifles which they shouldered and began firing. Normally an attack on the front of a Ghost is near suicide but Grunts piloted these and at the sight of losing a Wraith and their Commander, some began to flee. Seven Ghosts were immediately immobilised as precision aimed rounds tore into the heads and breathing apparatus of the Grunts. The rest turned tail and activated the boosters to quickly gain distance from the Scorpion and them. The Masterchief aligned the turret with another Wraith and fired. The high velocity shell tore through the dense armour of the Wraith, damaging the Mortar. When the Brute inside attempted to fire, it sprayed sparks and detonated into a purple fireball, taking three nearby Ghosts out with it.
Private Cairn began firing the chain gun mounted in front of the Scorpion tank. The fleeing Ghosts were torn limb from limb as the high calibre rounds punched through their relatively weak armour. Ten remained after the initial attack, but he reduced this number to three as he took one out, it began spiralling and crashed into another Ghost. He panned the gun at the fleeing Ghosts, chewing up the rear of the enemy vehicles. The majority of the Ghosts that fled had their drivers torn from the controls under the sheer volume of rounds and when they fell from the seats, the Ghosts floated down to skid slightly along the ground as they came to a rest.
The Masterchief had a new problem now. The Wraiths had resumed fire and the distance between them and him was definitely in the Brutes favour. Large, purple bombs began exploding around the Scorpion, instantly crystallizing the soil on impact. Gunning the accelerator, the Chief headed towards the remaining three Wraiths. He hoped that if he got close enough then their mortars would become ineffective. But as he drew closer, a new problem arose. From behind the Wraiths rose four Banshee flyers. They swooped around
majestically before bearing down on the Chief's position. The Marines concentrated their fire on the Banshees whilst the Chief attempted to concentrate on the Wraiths. Two Banshees went down straight away as the Jackhammers launched the last rocket in the tube. Reloading would take too long, so they switched to Battle rifles. All four Marines fired sustained bursts on one Banshee until it began smoking. It began to break off but the angle was too steep and it burst into flames as its nose dive-bombed into the ground. The remaining Banshee came into range and opened fire with its dual plasma guns. The super heated plasma made its way quickly across the ground and began striking the side of the Scorpion. One of the Marines was engulfed in plasma fire as his body was torn limb from limb and began to fall apart under its own weight. The Masterchief stopped the Scorpion tank, unlocked the hatch and primed a plasma grenade and got ready to throw it.
As the Banshee grew closer, it stopped firing and swooped up into a 90degree climb. The Chief aimed and threw the grenade, leapt back into the seat and gunned the Scorpion away from the explosion. The Plasma grenade adhered to the right wing of the Banshee and grew a more intense blue before exploding, sending the Banshee skittering through the air trailing smoke. The remaining three Marines cheered as the last Banshee fell limply to the ground. But suddenly silenced when a large purple plasma bomb exploded mere metres away from the side of the MBT. One of the Marines screamed as the heat from the detonation caused his skin to boil and bubble up with blisters. Dropping off the side of the Scorpion, the Marine attempted to make a run to the camp but only got a few metres until another plasma bomb completely engulfed the soldier. After the dust had settled and the static had discharged, all that remained was a large black crater which shimmered in the sun.
The chief drew closer to the remaining Wraiths and aimed the cannon. Firing once, the round impacted on the front of the Wraith, gutting the Brute gunner up-front and demolishing the front end. The hatch opened to reveal a scorched Brute attempt to get free as the purple flames from in the Wraith began licking at the drivers arms. The gunner on the Scorpion fired a short burst and the contents of the Brutes head exploded onto the back of the mortar. As the body slumped back into the Wraith, the entire vehicle exploded and erupted into flames. The remaining two Wraiths began backing off, continuing to fire. Even at such a small distance, the mortar tanks were very ineffective.
The Chief fired a round in front of one of the retreating Wraiths, causing it to flip over onto its back. The Brute gunner leapt from the rolled tank and attempted to retreat to a safer position, but was cut down by the anti-armour rounds from the MBT. The driver of the Wraith attempted to right the vehicle by firing a mortar shell at the ground but was only successful in causing the entire Wraith to explode into flames. Shards of shrapnel tore through the air and pinged of the armour of the Scorpion tank. The Chief fired at the remaining Wraith but it dodged the high velocity round by mere inches. The Wraith fired again and the plasma bomb hit home. The ground in front of the Scorpion exploded sending ripples of static electricity into the surrounding area and causing the MBT to flip over. The Masterchief rolled free but the remaining Marines were crushed as it flipped onto its side. Seeing the tank become inactive, the Wraith turned around and gunned it over the hill.
Picking himself up from the ground, the Chief unclipped his S2 AM Sniper rifle from his back and aimed at the Wraith. From in front, the Wraith was a formidable force to be reckoned with, but from behind, it had a weak spot. Just below the mortar, a small gear span around which allowed the Wraith to move. Sighting on this weak point, the Chief fired a full clip into the back of the Wraith. The first three rounds seemed to do nothing until the fourth sheered the protective barrier off, exposing the core. Quickly slamming another magazine into place, the Chief fired again. This time it only took to rounds. He was rewarded with the sound of the Wraith detonating and go up in purple flames. Clipping the rifle onto his back, the Masterchief double timed it back to the Scorpion and, using his own strength augmented by his armour, flipped the tank back onto its tracks. Collecting the rifles from the dead Marines, he clambered back into the seat, turned the vehicle around and headed back to the base. They had won this battle, but something told the Chief that the Marine's lives that were wasted were in vain.