Jason had seen some pretty shitty situations in his life. Even before joining up with the UNSC. And, he thought bitterly as he peered around the corner of the burning convenience store, this one was up on his top ten.

A complex network of alleyways that were supposed to, albeit slowly, take them to their destination were proving to be more hassle than they were worth. Most of them were collapsed or otherwise blocked, and more and more they were running into small Covenant patrols. So far, luck had been kind and the group of ODSTs and Marines hadn't been spotted. Jason knew that he was on his own, that really, there was no backup.

So, when it became obvious that they were going to have to take a more direct route, like walking down the goddamned street, Jason naturally felt the need to do a little scouting. What he saw discouraged him, to say the least. The good news was that, using the alleyways, they'd made it halfway to their destination. And that the road Jason was currently looking down was a straight shot to the big building he needed to get into.

The bad news was that it was littered with Covenant. Small outposts had been established every one to two blocks, complete with Ghosts, Wraith Tanks and cover from up high by Jackal sniper towers, all peppered with dozens and dozens of troops, armed and armored to the teeth. All ready to die for the cause.

Jason had a plan.

Being the leader of Team Five, it was his job. With what little he'd had to work with, he set up the plan. Paulson had taken up a sniper's position on the roof of a small, relatively intact cafe. The Marine carrying the bomb, who also happened to be handy with a sniper rifle, joined him, since they couldn't have him rushing off into battle and chance blowing the bomb prematurely. Hunter, being a scout, was the sort of lynchpin to the plan. Jason had sent him ahead with a small amount of the C12 to sneak in and attach to the two Wraith tanks guarding the first of three checkpoints.

Once the explosions went off, they would rush in and, hopefully, overwhelm the Covenant there in all the confusion before the other Covenant in the area rushed in to help. Jason knew this was work better suited for a Spartan, but humanity seemed to be in short supply of those and as far as he knew, most, if not all of them, had died on Reach. That particular piece of news had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Reach. It was gone. Glassed half to death. The only other piece of data that he'd managed to glean was that only one ship had made it.

And it was missing.

But that was relatively old data. And he had other things on his mind.

"You boys ready?" Jason asked unnecessarily over the comms link. Jones had stayed with him. The other Marines had managed to get across the street and then work their way up almost parallel to the enemy checkpoint. A string of 'affirmatives' came back at him. Hunter was silent, in the midst of his job. Just as Jason began to check his chronometer, more out of nervous habit than anything else, there were a pair of sharp cracks, followed by a series of startled and pained alien shouts. Jason didn't even have to give the order.

He and Jones rushed out of their hiding spot. Above him, beneath a stygian sky that bled ashes, Paulson and the other Marine opened fire with their rifles. Jason opened fire with his battle rifle, sighting a clutch of Grunts rushing for parked Ghosts. He kept his aim true, his breath calm, his hands steady. He began picking them off, blowing their heads open in sharp, three-round bursts. Bright blue phosphorescent blood sprayed as their little bodies smashed to the ground. He could hear Jones, firing beside him.

Elites and Brutes were shouting orders. Plasma fires burned, outlining them against the chaos, making them that much easier targets. Jason hurled a pair of frag grenades while he made for cover behind the ruins of some half-collapsed building. By the time he snapped his rifle back up from behind a large piece of concrete, the grenades had gone off. Jones was already taking his shots. As Jason joined him, always aiming for the head, he could see the other Marines with assault rifles, firing from their defensive position.

Chaos boiled around them. One of the Elites managed to get to a Ghost and was making fast headway towards Jason. His eyes widened as the immediate threat became the most obvious. He fired until all the bullets were gone, and still the Elite came. As it opened fire and got within ten meters, there was a sharp crack and suddenly the Elite's skull was gone. The Ghost smashed to the ground, shrieking to a halt, sparks flying.

Jason mentally thanked Paulson as he vaulted over the piece of concrete and slid into the controls of the Ghost. This had to be fast. They'd already taken down half the forces at the first checkpoint, but there were reinforcements on the way by now. Jason worked the controls, bringing the hovering vehicle about face. More Brutes were on their way to him and Paulson and the other Marine were already focusing on distant targets, allowing the men on the ground to clean up what was left. Jason got to cleaning.

He shot forward, hitting all of the Brutes with the front of the Ghost and sending them flying through the air. Jones shot any that survived the hit and run. Jason pressed on, adrenaline racing through his veins. He scanned the hazy battlefield for what was left, and saw that the deadliest of enemies were in the form of a group of Jackals.

He rushed towards them. It was like a knife cleaving through butter. The Jackals went flying like freaking ninepins. Jason brought the Ghost back while the Marines mopped up what little resistance was left.

"Form up!" he roared.

The Marines rushed into a pair of hovering towers in the center of the intersection, snatching up Covenant Beam Rifles and going to work on the impending backup. Jason grinned darkly, gripping the controls of the Ghost, as he watched heads burst and vehicles crash into buildings, absent of living drivers. Jason prepared himself for the stragglers, anyone that might make it to the first checkpoint to cause problems.

But the others were fast and good with their rifles. The so-called backup didn't make it, leaving the second checkpoint mostly empty. Activating his zoom function, Jason realized that what survivors had been left behind were now hurrying towards the third and final checkpoint to fortify their position. He grinned.

They were almost making this easy.

"Round up weapons and ammo, and let's go!" he called.

Jason abandoned the Ghost. They provided too little in the way of cover for his taste and he'd honestly never been very good at handling them. One of the Marines took it over for him, and Jason wished him luck. The third checkpoint was out of range, so Paulson and the other Marine hurried to join the others.

Once they were on the ground, Jason led the charge. They rushed down the street, in between broken and burning vehicles, dodging the occasional flare of blue from a beam rifle. The Marine in the Ghost stayed ahead of them, firing at the towers in the distance, hoping for a lucky shot. Jason scanned the area for Hunter, and it occurred to him that the ODST was thinking ahead. Way ahead. Hunter was probably already near the third check point, getting ready to do some real damage. He liked that in an ODST.

Jason knew things were getting serious when the head of the Marine driving the Ghost vaporized in a bright blue blur. They were close, now. Close enough. As the body dropped, Jason fell to his knees behind a wrecked vehicle, sighting the nearest Covenant: an assault party of Elites advancing on them. Paulson already began working on the Jackals in the tower. Jason let loose, firing off three-round bursts with the others while the Elites advanced.

They only managed to take down two of the ten before the other eight scattered among the maze of debris and vehicles. Jason swallowed nervously and switched out his rifle for his shotgun. This was going to get close quarters, and going toe to toe with something two and a half feet taller than you and four times as powerful was never fun.

While Paulson and the bomb toting Marine continued to work at a longe range, he, Jones and the one surviving Marine prepared for the inevitable close quarters combat scenario. He tried to keep track of the Elites moving through the maze of cars, but quickly lost track of most of them. Instead, he focused on the one he thought was closest to him. Jason kept low, crouching, shotgun at ready. He peered around the front of the car...and found himself staring into the ugly black eyes of an Elite. Jason screamed and squeezed the trigger.

The Elite's head vaporized in a plume of purple gore. Its decapitated body collapsed into Jason's lap, spurting blood all over his armor. As he shoved it aside, he heard someone shout a warning right about the time a big Elite fist wrapped around a plasma rifle sailed through the air and connected with his helmet. Jason cried out as he flew onto his back. His visor cracked and his HUD flickered, briefly showing static around the edges. Jason raised the shotgun, somehow managing to maintain his grip on it, and squeezed the trigger again. The second Elite fell on top of the first, half its skull blown away. More blood dribbled onto his visor.

Jones and the other Marine were engaged in combat elsewhere, nearby and yet far away. Two down, six to go. Jason rose to his feet and swayed briefly. Burning pain tore through his skull and he became dizzy, he thought he spotted an Elite nearby and shouldered the shotgun, pounding out a round and cocking the gun, preparing for a second shot.

"Christ, DuPree! That's my head!" Jones cried. Jason blinked, he could feel something wet, like tears, on his cheek, leaking from his eye.

"Sorry!"

Plasma burst across his vision and sent him stumbling as it punched into his armor like burning fists. He spun and fell down on his ass, sighting a third Elite and punching a hole straight through its chest. At this close of range, his shotgun might as well have been a cannon. He cocked the slide back again and knew he'd have to reload someday. He scrambled to his feet again as he heard someone screaming.

Jason turned just in time to see the other Marine, the man who's name he'd never learned, was caught with a plasma grenade. And he was running towards a fourth and fifth Elite, who were desperately trying to get away from the living bomb one of them had stupidly made. Jason's visor darkened as the three of them lit up in a brilliant blue-white flare. Jason cursed briefly and then staggered back to cover. Three left. He heard a gunshot, then, and Jones gave the all clear. Overhead, he could hear two sniper rifles working into overtime.

Jason blinked in frustration. The crack running down his visor was beginning to bug him. He made the visor transparent, and that seemed to make the crack less noticeable. His eye still felt like it was leaking, though. He ignored it for the moment, regrouping with Jones.

"Let's move," he said. Jones gave him a funny look. "What?"

"Your...eye, is bleeding," the Marine replied.

Jason sighed. "Wonderful," he grumbled. "I'll deal with it later. Come on."

Jones followed silently. Leaving Paulson and the other Marine behind, Jason crouched low, leading Jones down the left side of the street. Up ahead, things seemed quiet. As he made the final approach to the third and final checkpoint, he found a heap of headless corpses.

"How'd I manage?" Paulson asked over the link.

"Not bad. Average, I'd say," Jason replied.

"Oh, whatever," Paulson growled with a smirk in his voice.

As Jason began to come out into the open, a battle cry startled him, causing him to swing around. Out of an alleyway, a Brute had managed to stay out of the shooting gallery the street had become. It was coming towards Jason. The ODST raised his shotgun, but then paused as the Brute let out a furious howl of pain and tripped, landing on its face and sliding a few feet.

Hunter, silent and lethal, was on the Brute's back, his hand on the hilt of a knife stuck in the big alien's neck.

"You're bleeding," he said quietly as he pulled the knife out and stabbed the Brute once more, for good measure. He stood, cleaned, and sheathed the knife.

"So I've been told."

As Paulson and the other Marine wielding the bomb came forward to join them, Jason looked up at the building they were expected to infiltrate. It looked easy, but looks were like luck: a crap shoot. He could hear more conflict nearby.

The other ODST squads.

"Come on, we need to hurry," Jason said, leading the way towards their ingress into the building. The others followed.