Seung MAC Facility
Maenali III, Maenali System,
January 5, 2552, 1249 Hours, Standard Military Calendar
Matt ran along the outer retaining wall of the MAC concourse, crouched down to avoid making an easy target for the Wraith tank busy blasting away at the facility. The Covenant jack wagon driving the thing couldn't shoot straight, but sooner or later he'd get it right, and that would be very unpleasant. On the plus side, Matt only had to stay lucky for another fifteen or so seconds as the range dropped, so perhaps this would work out after all.
A civilian medic was crouched down behind the retaining wall, unknowingly in a perfect position to intercept the Covenant making their way across the landing fields. He had an M6D handgun in his fist, and risked a quick glance over the wall, obviously ready to use it. Matt grinned beneath his helmet, pleased with the medic's initiative. "I wouldn't bother with that one if I were you, Medic."
The medic's head jerked around and his jaw dropped as his eyes drank in the sudden appearance of a huge Spartan, fully armed and armored in his deep blue. "Your M6 is a fine weapon, but we have a far superior tool at hand." Matt pulled a huge, bulky weapon from the magnetic clamps on his back and sliding his assault rifle into its place. "Like this here. Its proper name is Weapon/Anti-Vehicle Model 6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle."
The medic stared openly at the Spartan as he hefted the huge weapon onto his shoulder and popped up over the wall to take aim at the enemy tank. "What the hell does all that mean, Spartan?" The medic asked confusedly.
The Spartan glanced over at the medic, and he could feel the Spartan's amusement. "Means it's a big ass laser, friend." Faint red light lanced out, tickling the enemy tank, until the Spartan stroked his trigger. A beam of harsh crimson blasted out with a howl of electronics and superheated air, and the tank slammed to the concrete and died in flames. "Commander, one down, two to go. How are you doing this fine evening?"
Logan pressed her spine to the wall, listening intently to the sounds picked up by her armor's microphones. The armor made this cat and mouse gig so much easier than it had been on Onyx. There, she had hunted fellow recruits, and sometimes her instructors; here, she hunted monstrous aliens that cheered in glee when they murdered Humans. "I'm hunting the bastards, Matt, how do you think I'm doing? Finish up with those tanks, and get ready- this thrust can't be the extent of the Covenant penetration, or they would've been stopped on the perimeter."
Matt's acknowledgement light winked on, and Logan turned back to the task at hand. Securing her MA37 for the moment, Logan pulled her M319 from her thigh lock and loaded a grenade into it. She loved to fight close-quarters, using her superior speed and agility to grind Covenant heavies into dirt up close and personal; it reminded her of something her father once said on one of his infrequent visits home: "The Covenant are tough and wily bastards, but they never learn. They rely too much on their armor and numbers to keep 'em alive. In close, a few grenades and a few hundred rounds of 7.62 turns 'em into dog meat."
Grunting whispers from around the corner alerted her. A barking, yappy voice spoke up, "spread out! Look close- Demons are here!" Nervous barks answered that voice, announcing at least six Grunts. Logan grinned evilly, adrenaline pumping through her body.
With a deep breath, Logan whirled around the corner, aiming the -319 carefully, and squeezed the trigger. The Grunts squealed in surprise and terror, slowly trying to get their weapons in line on the lithe blue Spartan, but Logan was already gone, dodging around the wall left of her original position. The Grunts' confusion was short-lived however, as the explosive core of her grenade detonated, hurling searing metal shrapnel scything through their bodies and inflicting tremendous concussion on their nervous systems. Blasted apart and hurled even further by leaking methane tanks, two of the Grunts were hurled into their fellows. One had the poor judgment to let go of his overcharging plasma pistol, which discharged. The boiling blue-green energy splashed harmlessly into the deck, but the heat caught the methane leaking from the tanks, and incinerated the remaining badly wounded Grunts in a brilliant secondary explosion.
With a chuckle, Logan broke the -319 open at the action, ejecting the spent casing, and slapped in a new grenade. A roar echoed down the concourse that led up to the facility, joined by three others and the cackling of Grunts and Jackals. Four fast cracks and a startling freem! accompanied by a searing red beam of light answered. Charlotte's voice echoed in Logan's ears next. "Commander, I have three Elites, nine Jackals, and twelve Grunts inbound your position. They must have worked their way up the cliff. Be advised, I have no shot, because they're under the Concourse awning now. I'm relocating; suggest Echo Two do the same. There's another pair of Spirit dropships inbound, left and right flank. I'll go left if Two can go right."
Matt's voice came up next. "I'm already gone, three. You watch your six now, you hear?"
Logan watched her HUD for a moment, listening to the Covenant infantry moving cautiously closer and the Spirit dropships whirring in on their strange anti-gravity engines. Okay, she thought to herself. It's time to be stubborn. Kneeling, Logan peeked around the corner, taking in the formation coming toward her. The Jackals were standing shoulder to shoulder, energy shields held before them, with about half the Grunts in front of them, skulking along the sides. The senior Grunts and their Elite masters advanced behind the wall of energy; Logan nodded. This was behavior she had seen before- the Covenant hated and feared Spartans, referring to them as Demons and going out of their way to kill them. Sometimes, that fear could be turned against the Covenant.
Leveling the -319, Logan carefully judged the distance. If she did this precisely correct, she could break up that line advancing towards her, and then it would be a simple knife-fight, the kind of battle she and her armor were optimized for. The weapon discharged, and the 40 millimeter grenade sailed out, primed and ready. It arced down, sparking on the concrete, and bounced back into the air, tumbling as it flew. The orange-clad Major leading the troop warbled in surprise as the grenade glittered in the sunlight and smacked him in the helmet.
It detonated a split second later, hurling the Major backwards in a spray of purple blood, and claimed two Jackals and three Grunts at the same moment. They tried to reform their line, Logan had to give them that, but it was already way too late. Her second grenade bounced through the gap and shattered the legs of the Jackals, spraying their purple blood to mix with the glowing blue Grunt fluids on the deck. In all, it was a splendid scene of slaughter.
Logan locked the grenade launcher to her thigh plate and unlimbered her assault rifle. She needed to save some grenades for the inevitable follow-up waves that were on their way, and the Covenant in front of her, battle-maddened and now really angry, were too close to use the grenades effectively anyway. Logan dipped out once more and opened up, short bursts of 7.62 millimeter fire tearing into the enemy. She went after the Grunts first, making sure those little bastards couldn't get close enough to 'light her path on the Journey' with their plasma grenades, and proceeded to grind them up within seconds. The three remaining Elites kicked their two Jackals ahead of them, and Logan quickly felt the heat of plasma splashing against her shields. Bobbing and weaving quickly, Logan gave ground, using a concrete visitor's board to break the contact long enough to eject her spent magazine and slam a fresh one home.
As soon as the bolt slammed closed, Logan dodged out again. On the stairs stood the hulking blue form of the first Elite, splashed in his boss' blood. The alien opened up with his plasma rifle, splashing hot energy everywhere on the walls but not actually hitting Logan very often. Logan herself was much more focused and calm, blowing out a half breath and locking her hands on the assault rifle. At a distance of just twenty meters, the armor-piercing rounds that flew on plumes of fire from her weapon pounded down the enemy warrior's shields and shredded his face, evacuating his brains across the back of his helmet.
His companions were to blood-crazy to worry at the loss of their comrade, however, and simply kicked him aside. Logan took the opportunity to unload the other half of her magazine into the second Elite up the stairs, using the assault rifle like a buzz-saw to rip the Elite's belly open. Feet tangled in his own guts, that warrior tumbled face-first into the concrete with an agonized howl and a sick crack as the concrete finished the job by snapping his neck.
The bolt locked back, and the digital readout glowed a cheery zero, but Logan couldn't fall back just yet. The third Elite, screaming with battle-lust, was crouched, arms open, ready to charge forward into a shattering embrace that would destroy even Logan's advanced physiology. So, with no time to reload, and running merely another form of suicide, Logan took her only sure option. Setting herself, she used every ounce of her modified body's strength and power to charge the Elite, swinging the butt of her rifle up into a shattering uppercut that caught the Elite right between his mandibles.
The impact lifted the Elite straight off his feet, crushing the lower part of his skull and completely dislocating his spinal structure. Central nervous system severed, concussion and bone shards destroying his brain, the Elite crashed down in a heap over his two comrades. Logan swiftly bent down, scooping up its plasma grenades, and with practiced flicks hurled them at the feet of the two remaining Jackals. With a harsh blue flash that burnished silver highlights on Logan's Close-Quarters Battle armor, the threat was ended.
Logan ducked behind cover, re-taking her previous position, and let her plaintively beeping shield system recharge. "This is Echo Lead. Front door is secure."