2120 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)
Northern plains, Covenant-occupied territory, New Milan
Blue Team raced across the rocky plains of New Milan in their freshly acquired Covenant Ghosts, heading in the direction of the two Tyrant anti-orbital guns under construction.
They passed through the plasma-charred remnants of an UNSC armored company, zooming past priceless military hardware which had been reduced to so much slag.
John-117 saw the Vultures from before, bearing the telltale markings of fuel rod cannon hits, probably caused by Banshees. He'd heard the only thing coming close to a Vulture in terms of cost was a MJOLNIR suit; however, that was probably an exaggeration. This was still a loss the UNSC had trouble recovering from, though; Vultures were maintained, sure, but there were rarely any more being made.
The next were the Grizzly tanks and Cobra self-propelled railguns. At the start of the war, the UNSC would regularly deploy armored formations made up almost exclusively of these vehicles, supported by M400 Kodiak artillery and M9 Wolverine anti-air tanks. But the best of the UNSC armored forces had been bled white on Harvest, and replacements were growing increasingly hard to come by.
It was a sobering thought to think of how much less they had to fight with as the war progressed. For this kind of mission, ten years ago, each of them would have had a HAVOK tactical nuke, not just one for the entire team. He was still thinking of the best place to deploy it. If they couldn't take out the next target conventionally, he could just place the nuke and set the timer.
They were rapidly approaching the next two Tyrants, which had been built next to each other on a large plateau, with the only route up being from its north side. Any assault coming from the south would be faced with with a sheer cliff they'd have to climb. It was a good defense.
But not against Spartans. It would take any of them a minute at most to climb. With their MJOLNIR armor, they could just punch holes into the wall to use as footholds. They'd done so before on other mountainous worlds when fighting the Covenant.
John guided them into a crevice to stop and plan their next move. This would not be a straightforward assault.
"Blue Team, those two Tyrants can't be allowed to come online, but they are well-defended. I need ideas." John stated. Even he could miss the most optimal solution, and he trusted in the ability of his fellow Spartans to assist him.
Kelly spoke first. "We could set off the HAVOK at the cliff base. The blast would destroy most of the plateau, and the tyrant guns would topple over."
Linda nodded. "I saw patrols at the foot of the cliff. We wouldn't be able to plant a HAVOK without it being detected and disarmed and get out of the blast radius in time."
John nodded at Linda. "Blue-Two and Blue-Four, you're with me. We'll hit them from the the front with our Ghosts. Blue-Three will climb the cliff face and hit the Covenant from behind. Move out."
Within seconds they'd all silently mounted their Ghosts and headed out towards the Covenant base.
By the time they reached the base of the plateau, the sky had started to go dark. Excellent. Spartans excelled at night combat, whereas out of all Covenant soldiers only the Elites had night fighting equipment. This improved Blue Team's odds greatly. Kelly broke off to head for the cliff, while the others
The fighting for New Milan was starting to heat up. Massive plasma bolts shot overhead from the Covenant artillery positions to the far north, while the lances of plasma fired by the Tyrants lit up the night sky. Occasionally, they hit something, causing an explosion. The ODSTs were starting to drop en masse, and the Covenant were trying to take them out.
A quick glance at the satellite data feed from the Circumference confirmed John's suspicions. The Helljumpers had dropped behind the main Covenant army trying to break through the mountains into the unconquered parts of New Milan. They were cutting into supply lines and giving UNSC forces a chance to rally, catch their breath, and move out.
The new aliens were also making a move, coordinating their efforts with the UNSC forces planetside. They were launching shuttles and drop pods of their own from cruiser-sized ships.
"SPARTAN-117 to prowler Circumference. Is anyone receiving me?" He sent a message.
"Loud and clear."
"The new arrivals are cooperating with UNSC forces on New Milan. But my team hasn't been informed about what they are doing. We'll be needing regular updates about their actions."
"Understood, Spartan. We'll monitor communications and inform you. Currently, the arrivals are reinforcing positions in the Alessandro mountains, as well as sending down shuttles to attack outlying Covenant defenses." There was the sound of rustling paper. "I'm looking through protocols for what to do in the event you come into contact with the arrivals. Normal protocol recommends elimination of non-UNSC observers. However, Admiral Cole was clear: we are to treat them as allied personnel. Stand by for further updates."
"Do not let yourselves be seen by them, but do not let it endanger your mission either. Good luck Spartan."
2115 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)
Gamma Passage, Alessandro Mountains, New Milan
"Incoming!"Staff Sergeant Avery Johnson yelled as he dodged an incoming plasma mortar shot, the plasma hitting a bunker; the heat of the impact set off what had to be a flamethrower fuel tank inside structure. The blast threw up shards of black silica that pelted surrounding soldiers as if a grenade had gone off.
Burning men and women ran screaming from the bunker, covered from head to toe in horrific burns. A few turned their guns on themselves, while some of the others were put out of their misery by horrified UNSC marines.. Avery did not see who did it, but he realized he had to rally the men.
"Listen up!" He yelled."Now, I know you're scared. Scared because they got all kinds of fancy weapons, and they aint afraid to use them. Well. When I was a lad, we didn't have plasma, guns, or bullets. We had sticks! And rocks! And we had to share the rock!"
"I don't care who you are, or where you come from. Because right now, we're the unlucky sons of bitches who have to protect fifty million people on the other side of this little pass we're guarding. And I don't know about you, but I'm not about to give one more inch of beautiful UNSC dirt to any more squid-faced split-lipped alien sons of bitches."
Johnson stood up, the soldiers around him yelling for him to get down.
"Now, are you going to sit here and cry for mommy and daddy, or are you gonna buckle up, stand your ground, and pump them full of lead!?"
"Sergeant, please get down!" One trooper yelled as plasma bolts whizzed overhead.
"What did I say, marine!?" Johnson yelled in return.
"...Pump them full of lead?" The trooper replied uncertainly. He seemed to be more scared of Johnson than anyone else.
"Damn straight!" He whirled around and pumped a cloaked Elite that was closing in on the UNSC trench full of lead with his assault rifle. The alien hit the ground as a crumpled bloody heap.
The UNSC had been fighting a losing defensive battle for a month in the narrow mountain passages and valleys that led from the Covenant landing zones to the last remaining human settlements in the south. It was brutal fighting, even by the standards of this god-forsaken war. Engineers blasted trenches and foxholes in the rock, and battles were often fought vertically, as Covenant jet troopers flew up cliffs while ODST Bullfrogs launched raids down the slope.
The Alessandro mountain range would look unrecognizable from orbit compared to how it'd looked just a month ago. Whole mountains had been glassed when the Covenant held orbital superiority to take out UNSC positions and carve paths for their armies to follow. The UNSC would send demolition teams to use nuclear excavation devices to collapse the passes, killing hundreds and thousands of Covenant troops.
While the UNSC soldiers died in their tens of thousands to hold the range, massive tank battles were fought in the foothills and in valleys and passages wide enough to field large armored forces in. The UNSC had deployed so many tactical nukes in the larger mountain passes, soldiers had to fight in radiation suits. It wasn't going to be long until Johnson's unit would have to do the same.
Avery and his squad were holding a forward trench in what had been called "Gamma Passage". It had been carved through the mountains by the Covenant's glassing beams shortly after the invasion to create another path for their army. Ten thousand UNSC Army troopers had died in the first week to hold this pass alone, and the many plasma-scorched skeletons that littered the forward slopes, bunkers and trench lines were a testament to that.
The passage consisted of a steep cliff to their right, a sharp ravine to the right, and a wide slope that led directly into the valley below. The UNSC troops had started out in the valley, slowly retreating up the slope of Gamma Passage and destroying their old positions as they did so.
Just one kilometer behind them lay Intersection Gamma, which led to five other passages like this that were similarly a part of the defensive line. If Gamma fell, so could their entire front.
The trenches and bunkers had been dug into of the glass, which was often as deadly as the covenant. He'd seen more than a few marines die horribly when hit by black glassy shrapnel.
The Covenant forces in the valley below let out a mighty roar, and began sending waves of Grunts up the slope.
Then Mount Sharpe suddenly exploded. A massive ball of white-hot fire that hurt to look at blossomed inside the mountain, nearly blowing the entire damn thing apart. Rocks, dirt, and debris flew out far and wide, raining down on Covenant and UNSC forces alike. When the sound of the explosion arrived, it was deafening, and Avery felt as if the world itself was shattered.
This was bad. Mount Sharpe, a peak with steep slopes (with exception of the southern one which was firmly under UNSC control), made for a good vantage point for target spotting. Not to mention that it allowed the defenders to put Covenant forces coming up Gamma Passage under crossfire.
And the Covenant had just blown it up.
UNSC forces had reformed, with reinforcements brought up from further up the mountain. They were setting up machine guns and other crew-served weapons, clearing bodies aside and carrying the wounded away. But they all stopped for a moment at the sight. Mount Sharpe had been vital to morale, as well as from the tactical standpoint: multiple Covenant attacks on Gamma Passage had broken when they took fire in their flanks and rear.
"Alright, soldiers!" Sergeant Johnson yelled. "The Covenant just blew up a mountain held by the Army, and now they're coming for us Marines. We are not moving an inch until the Covenant blows up two mountains. Understood!?"
"Sir, yes sir!" The marines responded.
The portable radio receiver in the trench gave off loud static. "Clear up that signal, soldier." Johnson pointed at the operator, who immediately complied.
Three missiles streaked overhead. Johnson instantly recognized what that meant.
"Nukes! Get down!" He yelled, ducking in his trench, others promptly following suit and taking cover in trenches and bunkers. Shortly afterwards, the sound of angry god erupted across the battlefield as three UNSC tactical nukes exploded in a glorious blast. Tanks were thrown through the air, while thousands of Covenant were vaporized or burnt to a crisp.
"Yeah! Take that, you split-lipped bastards!" Johnson yelled, his marines cheering at the beautiful sight of a Covenant army disappearing in nuclear fire. "You picked the wrong corps to mess with!"
Then the Covenant emerged from the dust cloud, mortally wounded, but undeterred. Johnson immediately realized the nukes had hit too far away. They'd hit the Covenant rear lines, but too much of the army in the valley proper had let out a battle cry and began to charge up the slope, their burnt, failing bodies driving them to attack with suicidal abandon.
"Hold your fire until they get close." Johnson ordered. "Controlled bursts at four hundred meters."
For the next two agonizing minutes the Covenant advanced. UNSC artillery began shelling the invaders, while pillboxes built into the cliff to the left opened up with their machine guns.
Mortars thumped, rocket launchers roared, and assault rifles and heavy machine guns thundered as the Marines opened fire. The Grunts in the first lines fell in droves, but the ones behind them just swarmed over their own dead.
Johnson fired in precise bursts, each aimed center mass. He was racking up quite the kill count: dozens of Grunts fell at his hand, before he had to reload. He had four magazines left; more if he scavenged from the dead.
The marine next to him fell, clutching a pink crystal shard jabbed in his throat. Johnson turned to look, seeing a pack of Skirmishers which managed to climb the steep incline to their left and were now firing at the UNSC soldiers from a rocky ledge.
"Bring down that ledge!" Johnson yelled at the trooper he'd seen holding an SPNKR rocket launcher, only to see her take a needler round in the eye.
Johnson took the launcher from her dead hands, took aim and fired. The rocket hit the steep ledge and brought it crumbling down in an avalanche of rock, gravel and mangled bodies. He handed the launcher to a marine who was scrounging for ammo in a fallen comrade's webbing. "Here. Early Christmas present."
"Thank you, Santa, sir!" The soldier replied sarcastically before firing the second tube into the oncoming wave of Grunts, scattering them. Dozens of creatures were blasted to bits, and many more were wounded as the crystalline shrapnel kicked up by the blast tore through them.
Johnson looked around, assessing how the line was holding. Nearly half the men at their position were dead or wounded, their bunkers had all been taken out and they were running low on ammo. Of course, there were still intact bunkers built into the cliff on their right. The weapon crews in there were doing what they could, firing at the Covenant.
Still, if they retreated, the Covenant could advance uncontested for god knew how long before the reinforcements arrived.
The sergeant pointed at Private Jenkins. "Jenkins, run down the line and tell them what's coming! Radios are down."
"Sir, yes sir!" The private hesitated for just a second, looking at his comrades, then ran as fast as he could.
The Covenant were now just over a hundred meters away. This would be a good way to die, Johnson thought. Better than being glassed.
Then Avery heard a distinct battle cry from behind. Glancing back, he could see another company of UNSC marines moving into position.
The sea of Grunts parted, revealing Elites charging at full speed through the gaps, firing their plasma rifle in precise bursts, one-handed, while wielding an energy sword in the other hand. They were followed by Grunts in black armor, carrying fuel rod cannons on their shoulders. At the same time, Phantoms provided support, concentrated fire of their plasma turrets burning through the bunkers.
Plasma mortar fire flew overhead, splashing all over the UNSC lines, cooking off stockpiled ammunition and wiping out whole squads of marines in the trenches.
Johnson cursed, and shifted his aim, unloading the remaining rounds in his rifle into the chest of an Elite that got a little too close, which failed to take down the shields.
Suddenly dart-shaped fighters flew overhead and strafed the Covenant with cannon fire, blue-tinged rounds pulping what they hit, before following up with missiles. The attack left the Covenant force disoriented for a moment.
The marines looked up, to see a flight of three boxy shuttles, each carried by four maneuvering thrusters. The side doors opened, and black armored figures leapt out without jetpacks, ten per shuttle. Johnson had no idea what was going on, nut he was definitely seeing the newcomers suddenly surround themselves in auras of blue light and slow their fall, throwing bolts of blue force that sent the Covenant ragdolling, before they shot forward like spears of blue light that exploded upon impacting the Covenant lines.
"Fucking space wizards!" One of the marines yelled. "We're being reinforced by space wizards!"
"Like the good Lord intended!" Sergeant Johnson yelled back and shot an elite whose energy shields failed in the head.
His helmet's radio came alive. "All UNSC forces, this is HQ. Radio was disabled due to enemy Spec Ops raid earlier; COM has been now re-established. Do not fire upon the new arrivals, they are allies. I say again, they are allies! Assist them in pushing the Covenant back!"
Avery vaulted the parapet of the trench, yelling, "Marines! With me!", and charged towards the trench line ahead, firing into the Covenant as he did. It was just thirty meters away, and enough of it was left for him to take cover in. The sergeant knew an opportunity when he saw it: as soon as he was across, he took aim at the melee in front of him, gunning down an Elite that was about to lunge for one of the "space wizards".
The new arrivals almost seemed to dance around their attackers, firing rapid-firing shotguns at close range or sheathing their arms in a blue force field that apparently allowed them to punch a hole through an Elite's torso. Suddenly they all seemed to synchronize and combined their power into a wall of force that threw the Covenant back.
The advancing UNSC reinforcements, having taken position on the slope, opened fire over the heads of the space wizards, providing them with suppressing fire.
The space wizards sprinted back while the Covenant was distracted, and with practiced ease they focused their powers and, working in groups of two, ripped open large holes - makeshift foxholes - in the ground and then jumped inside. A handful slid back into the same ruined trench Johnson and his squad were holding.
Avery nodded with approval. "Staff Sergeant Avery Johnson. Why thank you for the assist. It's not often alien mages help us out!" He smiled.
"Thank you, human." The female voice said. She reached for her helmet (Johnson could see it had been damaged) and took it off, revealing a beautiful, if blue and a bit alien, woman.
Jenkins, who had come back with the reinforcements, was about to get into cover when he saw the woman. "Holy shit. We just got saved by hot alien space babes with magic powers."
There was immature giggling amongst the soldiers.
"The Covenant are pulling back, Shiala," one of the other aliens said, sliding into cover next to the humans.
"Good, sister. Let us see about assisting these humans in preparing their defenses."
Jenkins muttered. "So… uhh.. What's going on? Who are you, what do we call you?" He looked very distracted.
"You can call us asari. We are commandos in the service of Matriarch Benezia. We have pledged our lives to her, and she has in turn sent her full force to assist humanity against the Covenant."
"How nice of you." Johnson said. "So. What do you think so far?"
The asari looked at him. "This is the most brutal war in more than a thousand years. We've lost more ships in battle since this war began than we have in the previous century. Your resistance in the face of impossible odds is commendable. Like the Krogan would say. You've got quads."
Johnson stood up to speak to the marines.
"Marines! We are the meanest, leanest, killing machines in the UNSC. And the good Lord has seen to reward us for our dutiful service kicking Covenant ass with reinforcements in the form of blue-skinned alien ladies with the power to turn a Grunt inside out with their minds. Let us all bow our heads and give thanks for this dee-vine intervention."
Johnson put his hands together in a mock prayer gesture.
"Alright. Enough prayer. We've got Covies that need to be strangled with their own guts. Amen."
"Amen." The assembled marines chorused.
The asari looked at him with a look of pure confusion, mouth agape. "I'll take that as a compliment… I think."