Exposions, and the sound of destruction filled the ears of the young marine. His hand gripped the rifle tightly as he shivered against the brick wall of a building. Reach was falling, and slowly the UNSC forces were being forced back. They had to hold out just a little longer to give the Spartans more time. His sweaty long hair got into his eyes as his head turned around the corner. Immediately three sniper shots rang out, and three grunts fell, twitching. The sniper in the fallen building in back of him gave a thumps up as he laid back into position.
He had to move up to the fighting. It was time to drop a pair. His hand fastened around his assault rifle, as he ran forward. The sheering sound of a group of banshees flew overhead despite the anti-aircraft gun fire from the tops of the skyscrapers. Green bombs began to descend upon the UNSC positions, and explosions rang out.
The private had to make a decision as he quickly sought shelter in an alleyway just a few clicks away from the entrenched position of the UNSC. After evading several plasma shots, and grenades he found himself with a small group of three marines holed up the crater hole of a crashed Pelican.
" Private! Where is your platoon?," a thick Russian accent shout from one of the marines. A tall tanned man stood up from one of the crates. A blood smear covered his left cheek where a fresh piece of shrapnel had made its home.
The young marine shook a little as he entered the crater," 2nd Reach Division sir. Our division was taken out in the initial bombardment of the planet, and the rest of my platoon followed the Spartans to a headquarters a few kilometers behind us. They sent me to try to find some…."
The Russian sergeant coughed a little from the smoke of the crashed airship before walking up with two other marines. All armed head to toe with their helmets, and other sorts of ammunition. He tossed a helmet to the private," We're using channel four to communicate if broken up. If you try the others