6 Shells, All You Need
Chapter 1: The Chief

The injured and battered warriors emerged from the bellowing clouds of smoke and hail of shrapnel. Guns drawn, 6 shells in their clips, emerging victorious, triumphant against the mass of vicious aliens behind them, all wasted by the elite forces of the Socom II battleship.
12 hours earlier...
18:28 hours
"How close are we?" asked the commander as he marveled at the site before him, a huge circular planet with no center, stretching miles into the depths of the universe. The only planet other than Earth able to support life, riddled with streams, trees and huge rock formations. It supported life, and vicious life, at that. It was Halo, the planet the Socom II battleship had been searching for for over two months.
The first force the Socom communications center sent out consisted of thirty-four highly trained elite marines. They had a well enough attitude and sense of humor, but did not possess the skill of a lightning quick trigger finger and nerves of steel. There was only one being on Socom that exceeded even the highest standard, possessing all skills needed for a soldier, the Chief. The Chief was formerly known as Louis Harper, or 'Six' since he took out nine firing terrorists with the last six shells in his clip. He was a well trained marine fighting in World War 3 and taking part in many terrorist neutralizing missions. He broke 11 S.W.A.T. records set by the best of the best, during war and during training. He survived all missions he was chosen to perform in and only took 2 bullet wounds.
But the one thing he did not anticipate happened in 2017. A great scientist, Robert Louis created the greatest military technology in the history of man-kind. The Suit. This cryogenic suit allowed any marine to jump over 12 feet, run at speeds of over 60 mph., and increase the marines strength by over 300%. Robert chose none other than 'Six' to be the first marine to wear the suit into battle. To this day Louis remains sealed in a cryogenic capsule until he becomes the last resort for Socom II, and that would be in a matter of minutes.
19:02 hours
"1100 kilometers, Sir," declared the navigator as the Socom advanced on Halo. "What is your next command, Sir?"
There were several minutes of silence before the commander finally came up with an answer.
"800 kilometers, Sir," said the navigator after a minute or so.
"Take Socom down on the East curve of the ring, I'll alert the next caravan to prepare for the landing." Said the commander in a hushed but obnoxious voice as he walked towards the ramp leading to the training chamber to alert the last 120 marines to be ready for battle. The commander arrived in the chamber meeting a large group of five rows of marines standing at-ease. The commander broke into his directions for battle with all marines listening intently.
"I know every one of you men are ready to explore this planet. I also know that every one of you men are ready to blow the living guts out of any alien you come across on the planet! So let's give these guys something to remember us by!" The large crowd of marines started into a mixture of laughs and chants of agreement since the commander was becoming so excited and loud with anticipation. "This will be a fierce battle, so keep your finger on your trigger and stay focused! Keep your game face on and be sure you are in possession of a clip at all times! Do what you were trained to do, and don't be surprised if the Chief starts bustin' up your enemies for you! Now go bust up E.T. and get back here!" With this, every Marine in the group erupted in cheers of anticipation and excitement. The Warthogs were lowered and two rows of marines were fastened into Warthogs, three marines were hopping into a Scorpion tank while 3 other marines jumped up to the hand holds on each side of the Scorpion, ready for a drive-by and the last two rows of marines marched out into a carrier ship to be dropped at the war-zone and the commander returned to the satellite location screen to keep a close watch on his war heroes. His plan was simple, if things got ugly, they would release the Chief.
21:42 hours
Chapter 2: If Things Get Ugly...
The Marines took every step with caution in four tight groups of men all taking cover behind the Scorpion or one of the Warthogs. They had been in the Convenent territory for over 2 hours and were encountering nothing. It seemed the Convenent had fled to some unknown area or perhaps hiding in the darkness, waiting for the opportune moment. This theory or option floated among the Marines and had been floating in the tense air for the last hour as the Marines advanced without conflict. A few Marines were particularly puzzled at this seemingly non-existent mission, and others were like the Chief, happy and confident as long as they had their assault rifle by their side and a couple clips in their belts. The pale stagnant air lingered as they advanced quiet as night through the undergrowth of the Convenent grounds. The Marines were alert and focused at all times, expecting an ambush that never came. The Sergeant had been taking stats from the info-red monitor but nothing had appeared on his screen as the Marines moved on. Suddenly the Sergeant received what seemed to be a extremely frightened and anxious radio call from the commander this time.
"Guns up! Take cover and get ready to blow the shit out of some Convenent 'cause their advancing on you, and fast! 300 meters...200...50...They're inside 25 meters, get your God Damn GUNS UP! That is an order! Sergeant!? Shit! ANSWER ME!" But the Commander only heard radio interference as the Sergeant's radio had been hit by E.M.P. from one of the Convenet's weapons. The Marines were in an ambush of over 300 Convenent enemies. The radio recovered contact 12 minutes later when many of the Marine soldiers lay motionless as others dragged them under cover. Convenent enemies washed down over them with incredible battle tactics, breaking the backs of Marines with their weapons, and some being slaughtered later on by other Marines engaged in the fierce battle inheriting stomachs filled with searing hot lead. A nearby Marine was firing at a nearby when the shouts of curses and anger filtered into his ears. He quickly made radio contact with the Commander with urgent requests.
"Can anybody here me!? Shit! Answer! Fuck ME!"
"Yes, sir, we're getting wasted down here! Bring in the E-Vac, NOW!" shouted the Marine panting from the fierce battle.
"We're sending them in now son, hang in there! Get the dead and wounded under cover and hang in their son!"
"Don't mind if I do, Sir. See you in 5 then!" concluded the Marine as he mercilessly bashed an Elite over the head, losing contact when the radio shattered over the Elite's head, then being shot in the back by an angry Marine.
"Hang in their boys, E-Vac coming we're getting the fuck out of this war zone shouted the Marine as he filled a Grunt full of lead.
About seven minutes later the Marines and Convenent were nearly swept off their feet as a huge gust of wind swept over the battle field sweeping quickly from the exhaust of a large ship that had the word 'E-VAC' painted onto it's side sprayed hot lead over the remaining Convenent forces, saving the remaining Marines from complete inhalation. The ramp opened at the back of the enormous ship attracting the remaining Convenent forces sprinting toward the ship attempting to board undetected, but were beaten to it by the remaining 47 Marines and were shot down at once, even the last couple of aliens clinging to the edges of the on-ramp were de-fingered when several bullets grazed the tops of their fingers. Each and every one of the exhausted soldiers were panting with beads of sweat dripping off their faces. Some even had open wounds which were spilling blood but the battered soldiers showed no pain or care for their wounds. The Marines had escaped the vicious battle, although not victorious, but blood still pumped in their vanes, sustaining their lives.
22:38 hours