CHAPTER 16
0942 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Twelve miles south of Orean Fotress on moon of planet Raiek
The Spartans moved swiftly through the trees, like fluid moving around plants' roots in the springtime. They dispersed through the thick foliage faster than most could follow, tracking any movements, marking areas, watching for any signs of life. The team moved with percison, and yet at a quick pace, trying to make sure they arrived to help Moores and his army in time.
It was not just succeeding the mission that mattered to the Commander or any of them. No, it was much more. The lust and feel for battle. The fighting ground was their home, and only in battles could they be truly happy.
After moving two miles into the forest, the team came upon a small group of Covenant warrior Grunts in formation. It appeared as if there was no leader, that they were merely out for a stroll, but the Spartans knew better than this.
Standing in rows of five each with two columns, the Grunts moved at a liesurely pace through the mist of the jungle. It seemed as if they had no purpose of being out here, as most were equipped with just plasma pistols. Several lucky ones had needlers.
The Commander gave out a single order. "Fade into the shadows." The team responded instantly. Alex and Jarrett leaped three meters straight up into a tree. James himself ducked behind the foliage. Finally, Bryce rolled behind a rather large boulder jutting from the grassy forest floor.
Moving with a swagger and a bit of an arrogant 'we're-not-in-danger- anymore' in their gait, the Grunt group came to a sudden stop. "Wait!" the leader cried, holding up his gun. He had heard something. The others instantly responded and halted in their tracks, listening to the sound around them, wanting to be aware of a threat. A pistol shot rang out, and they all screamed in terror.
Jarrett fired again on James's command. "Aim for the head." His voice crackled through the mic.
One of the Grunts was taken right through the leg. He screamed in terror and fell. Another shot buried itself in his right arm, knocking him all the way down. He was out. Next to him, three bullet holes formed a neat triangle in another's chest. The Grunt collapsed.
The two Grunts at the very back screamed in horror at their fallen comrades. The leader shouted for them to stop and duck. One of them shouted and broke away, running from the group. An M6D bullet took him in his faceplate, shattering the glass, allowing methane to bubble from the opening.
James raised his hand, signaling a cease-fire. Three acknowledgement lights winked on in his HUD. Reaching down, he pulled a Frag Grenade from his belt and took careful aim, his index finger just above the pin. There were only seven of them left. The Commander pulled back his arm further and easily flicked the pin from its place.
Hearing the pin ping to the ground, the leader turned to see the grenade bounce in front of him. He watched it bounce once...twice...and then explode. The blast sent him catapulting backwards. He landed several feet away, dead. The blast had also taken two other Grunts, leaving only four remaining.
Seeing as nearly their entire squad had gone down, the four left-over weren't going to stick around and find out what would happen to them. They turned tail and ran. James raised his hand and flicked it forward. Alex and Jarrett fired twice each. They killed three of the four almost instantly.
Bryce watched the last Grunt as it ran. He switched on the 2X scope on his gun and took careful aim. If they wanted to interrogate this one, they would need him alive. Placing his finger on the trigger, he tensed up and squeezed.
The bullet took the Grunt through its leg, causing the bewildered warrior to collapse. The Commander sprang from his place and snatched up the fallen Grunt in one fell swoop. The rest of his team was behind him in seconds.
"State your name!" James commanded.
The Grunt squealed in surprise but said nothing else.
"Talk!" The Commander growled, shaking the grunt's body violently.
"You'll never take me, cyborgs!" he screeched, delirious. Moving the pistol, he aimed it at his own head. James moved to stop him as the Grunt screamed. "Ahhhhhhhh!" He pulled the trigger...and fell limp. He was dead, and James let him drop to the forest floor. He was of no use any longer.
Signaling to his team, James silently ordered them to proceed further. The lights came on in his HUD, and the deadly team continued towards the Fortress.
Just several minutes into the trek after meeting the Grunts, James heard a sound. It was not very loud, but just enough to make him hold up his hand, calling a halt. The three Spartans behind him stopped immediately. A normal human wouldn't have been able to hear what they heard, but then again, they weren't normal humans.
The sound had come from somewhere in the trees. The Spartans waved their assault rifles up, tracing the trees with their muzzles, trying to locate any danger.
In his HUD, Jarrett could see one heat signature that was not their own. In all his years under the UNSC, he had come to learn the signatures of most Covenant enemies. And he knew his one. Jackals!
Jarrett aimed into the trees and didn't hesitate. His finger pressed quickly on the trigger and he held it there. The branch he was targeting was pumped full of bullets. The branch gave way, and a screaming Jackal fell from it. He hit the ground with a hard thump and tried to sit up.
At James's command, Alex pressed his heavy boot into the squawking Jackal's chest, trying to hold him there. The plasma shield shattered against the ground, and his plasma rifle bounced away. Leaning his weight onto the Jackal's chest, Alex grilled him hard. He wanted answers.
James came up behind them and stared down menacingly. "State your name."
The Jackal screeched and struggled more.
"Answer my question and maybe you'll live!" James growled through gritted teeth. "Just maybe."
After stopping his struggle, the Jackal obeyed. However, this one spoke no English, so the only thing he did was lie there, staring up at his captors. James sighed and turned to Alex. "Kill him. He can't understand me."
Alex grabbed a hold of James arm, stopping him. "Kill him?" he asked. "Why not just incapacitate him and make it so he's no threat?"
James turned back to face his teammate. "Are you questioning my orders? Again?"
Alex stared hard into the visor of his Commander. He had a position, and this time, he wasn't going to back off. "If we stoop to killing him like we did those Grunts, who were also no threat, we're just as bad as he is. Do you want to be like that?"
Wondering why Alex had picked now to have a sudden conscience attack, James raised his MA5B and pulled the trigger for two seconds, putting twelve rounds into the Jackal's brain. Orange gore spattered on the ground under the Jackal. "Because it's our only recourse. Do you want to wait until they're all firing explosive needles at you, and take shots at them then?"
Just then, several Jackals leaped from the trees, surrounding the group. "Want to protect them now?" James cried as Alex raised his weapon, shaking his head.
Around seven of the birdlike creatures came at them, and even more sprang from the bushes. They screeched and yelled, waving their weapons madly, plasma shields protecting their frail bodies. The Spartans would have to stop and fight.
1006 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Ten miles south of Orean Fotress on moon of planet Raiek
A plasma bolt dispelled itself against Bryce's shields. He whipped around, leveled the assault rifle in his hands and pulled the trigger. The bullets pinged harmlessly off the Jackal's shield. In fury, Bryce hurled himself upoin the Jackal, shattering the shield. Once it was down, he rammed the gun into the Jackal's throat, gagging it to death.
Alex dodged a strike from a plasma pistol and came in under the shield with his own pistol, striking the Jackal on his chin. The Jackal's head snapped back and he stumbled over. With a mighty swing, Alex struck the Jackal again, knocking him out.
After rolling away from three plasma bolts, James leaped up and turned to face the four Jackals. He pulled out his pistol and hurled it at one of the shields. The Jackal screeched and flung himself backwards, revealing his fleshy body. James leveled the rifle and held the trigger down. The Jackal screamed in pain and collapsed, dead. One of the Jackal's comrades knelt and snatched up James's M6D, holstering his plasma gun. The Jackals behind him opened fire. James's shields took the brunt of the attack, but he did stumble backwards. Pulling the pin on a frag grenade, James hurled it and stood back. The resulting explosion took out one of the Jackals and wounded the one with the pistol. James sprinted forward and snatched the pistol. He fired a bullet into the Jackal's head and then spun to face the one who had been burned. Using his boot, he kicked the underside of the shield. As the Jackal flailed backwards to keep his balance, James raised both guns and fired them, taking the Jackal down in a pool of orange blood. For the last Jackal, James fired at the shield with his assault rifle. When he acted as if it ran out of bullets, the Jackal pulled out his gun and started to fire, lowering the shield. James raised the pistol and killed him with a head shot.
Alex leaped up a tree and snatched one of the branches. Three Jackals were below him, screeching and squawking in anticipation of the kill. Alex pulled the pin of a fragmentation grenade and let it fall. The Jackals screamed and scattered. When the explosion went off, Alex gripped the tree harder so he wouldn't fall. Below him, one Jackal was tossed against a tree, dead. Another was thrown to the ground, injured. The third escaped with no injuries. Alex leveled his gun at the injured one and opened fire. However, its shield covered the majority of its body, so the bullets bounced harmlessly off. Reluctant, but realizing he had no choice, Alex pulled the pin with his finger from another grenade and dropped it next to the Jackal, who was incinerated as he screamed. The final Jackal looked up, and Alex fired his M6D pistol. The bullets pinged off his shield as the Jackal hid, but when he looked up, Alex was gone. A knock on the head from behind told him Alex had snuck around him. He fell and didn't move. Alex laid a bullet into his head. James was right; if the Spartans didn't kill, they would be killed.
1004 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Outside of Fortress Orean on moon of planet Raiek
Moores' rockets, and time, had run out. UNSC forces had no missiles left to fire at the Fortress Orean. The time had come to charge the base and hit them hard and fast, even if none of them survived. As long as they could delay the Covenant long enough for the Spartans to arrive, the Earth and Outer Colonies would be saved for now.
Speaking into his mic to Lieutenant Sellers, Moores put his plan into action. "It is time to charge them, Sellers," he said sternly. "Get into position and go on my mark."
"Aye aye, sir," Sellers returned. He moved to his left and watched as the brave Marines hopped into their places. The driver looked down at Sellers and smiled. He knew he was going to die soon, but he also knew the reason, and if it was the humans he was saving, it would be well worth the cost.
The gunner mounted up and waited until the passenger was in position before he signaled to the driver that everyone was ready. The three of them were prepared to lose their lives for Earth.
Next to them, another driver hopped into position and his gunner and passenger mounted. The two Warthogs were to drive right at the Fortress, targeting the control room and Shade defenses, taking out as much along they way as they could before being destroyed.
Behind them, the second wave of two was prepping itself. One of the drivers was standing with his gunner, and chelling some of the systems on the Warthog. He wanted to make sure everything was in top condition for the second run.
Moores's voice crackled through Sellers's mic. "Go!" he commanded.
The driver gunned the engine. The first Warthog's wheels spun and then gripped the ground, causing it to lurch forward. The second 'Hog moved along as well, following just behind it. Almost immediately, the two gunners opened fire, the bullets raining over the Shade cannons, killing the Grunt operators. The Marines riding shotgun pulled out their MA5B assault rifles and let 'em rip. They were to concentrate on the ground forces, which they mowed right through. Shields of the Elites didn't last long against the powerful bullets ripping into them. They died screaming.
A Wraith tank moved out from begind the Fortress's entrance tunnel. It lined up the cannon to the advancing Warthogs. The cannon mounted on top of it was collecting plasma energy from the fuel tank and starting to fire it. Within seconds, it was prepped. The Elite inside pulled the firing trigger, launching the gigantic fireball into the air. It whistled through the air and came down at the peak of its flight.
The first Warthog gunner looked up and spotted the fireball as it arced upwards. He screamed to the driver and pointed upwards. As the ball of plasma came back down, the driver swerved. Behind them, the second Warthog tried to move as well, but the plasma ball landed in a great explosion next to them. The shockwave rolled over them, and the energy caught the fuel tank. In a fiery explosion, the 'Hog was ripped apart, killing all aboard it instantly, burning them alive.
Moving as fast as they could, the driver of the first 'Hog drove out of range of the Wraith, trying to avoid the deadly plasma balls it fired. The gunner aimed his chain-gun at the command deck. When he was sure his aim would prove true, he pressed down on the trigger and the bullets flew up and shattered the glass windows.
Inside the room, Zaron turned to face out just as the glass in front of his face shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. He screamed, clicking his mandibles angrily, and flung himself backwards to avoid the hail of bullets that put numerous holes into the room, tearing up computers and other equipment.
Standon tried to crawl away, but Zaron snatched him up. Moving to one wall, he opened a glass tube made for one. When the glass covering rose, Zaron flung him inside and slammed it shut. From outside, Standon could hear the gold-clad Elite hiss out, "You'll be safe in there, General. Don't want you to accidently get killed in the battle, do I?" He tapped the glass. "That glass is plasma-proof. You'll never get out with human or even Covenant weaponry!"
With that, Zaron turned and looked at his radar-station Elite. "Where are the humans? How far have they come? And what shattered the glass?" he cried as more bullets flew into the room, killing numerous Elites, Grunts, and Jackals.
The officer turned and faced his commander. "They are still back in the trees, and they're nearly one-fourth of the way here. It was the human Warthog that evaded the Wraith tank that shattered the glass and is still firing in here."
Roaring in fury, Zaron turned to his right-hand man. "Get the snipers out there! I want that Warthog gone!" To himself, he muttered, "Why humans use such petty things as glass is beyond my comprehension!"
Leaving the Covenant to go about their duties, Zaron ran from the room to pursue another goal. He wanted to watch Gantu come in and make sure he made it. He didn't particularly like that one, and if he burned up trying to get in, it would be all the better.
The Covenant dropship hovered around the command deck's defenses. Several Shades and sniper Elite posts were mounted on the front, protected by plasma shields. The dropship steered as close as it could, and dropped the Covenant warriors to their places.
The last Warthog kept coming. While the gunner reloaded, the Marine riding shotgun slammed a fresh clip in his gun and swept the MA5B assault rifle at the ground troops. Elites, Grunts and Jackals fell at the mercy of the rapid-fire gun. Only Hunters could withstand it.
As they were nearing the base, a Howler stood in their path. The driver saw him and tried to stop. Alas, it was too late. The Howler opened his mouth and let out an ear-shattering screamed. Tipping over from the mighty shockwave, the Warthog crashed to a stop, killing all board as it turned upside-down.
0942 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Twelve miles south of Orean Fotress on moon of planet Raiek
The Spartans moved swiftly through the trees, like fluid moving around plants' roots in the springtime. They dispersed through the thick foliage faster than most could follow, tracking any movements, marking areas, watching for any signs of life. The team moved with percison, and yet at a quick pace, trying to make sure they arrived to help Moores and his army in time.
It was not just succeeding the mission that mattered to the Commander or any of them. No, it was much more. The lust and feel for battle. The fighting ground was their home, and only in battles could they be truly happy.
After moving two miles into the forest, the team came upon a small group of Covenant warrior Grunts in formation. It appeared as if there was no leader, that they were merely out for a stroll, but the Spartans knew better than this.
Standing in rows of five each with two columns, the Grunts moved at a liesurely pace through the mist of the jungle. It seemed as if they had no purpose of being out here, as most were equipped with just plasma pistols. Several lucky ones had needlers.
The Commander gave out a single order. "Fade into the shadows." The team responded instantly. Alex and Jarrett leaped three meters straight up into a tree. James himself ducked behind the foliage. Finally, Bryce rolled behind a rather large boulder jutting from the grassy forest floor.
Moving with a swagger and a bit of an arrogant 'we're-not-in-danger- anymore' in their gait, the Grunt group came to a sudden stop. "Wait!" the leader cried, holding up his gun. He had heard something. The others instantly responded and halted in their tracks, listening to the sound around them, wanting to be aware of a threat. A pistol shot rang out, and they all screamed in terror.
Jarrett fired again on James's command. "Aim for the head." His voice crackled through the mic.
One of the Grunts was taken right through the leg. He screamed in terror and fell. Another shot buried itself in his right arm, knocking him all the way down. He was out. Next to him, three bullet holes formed a neat triangle in another's chest. The Grunt collapsed.
The two Grunts at the very back screamed in horror at their fallen comrades. The leader shouted for them to stop and duck. One of them shouted and broke away, running from the group. An M6D bullet took him in his faceplate, shattering the glass, allowing methane to bubble from the opening.
James raised his hand, signaling a cease-fire. Three acknowledgement lights winked on in his HUD. Reaching down, he pulled a Frag Grenade from his belt and took careful aim, his index finger just above the pin. There were only seven of them left. The Commander pulled back his arm further and easily flicked the pin from its place.
Hearing the pin ping to the ground, the leader turned to see the grenade bounce in front of him. He watched it bounce once...twice...and then explode. The blast sent him catapulting backwards. He landed several feet away, dead. The blast had also taken two other Grunts, leaving only four remaining.
Seeing as nearly their entire squad had gone down, the four left-over weren't going to stick around and find out what would happen to them. They turned tail and ran. James raised his hand and flicked it forward. Alex and Jarrett fired twice each. They killed three of the four almost instantly.
Bryce watched the last Grunt as it ran. He switched on the 2X scope on his gun and took careful aim. If they wanted to interrogate this one, they would need him alive. Placing his finger on the trigger, he tensed up and squeezed.
The bullet took the Grunt through its leg, causing the bewildered warrior to collapse. The Commander sprang from his place and snatched up the fallen Grunt in one fell swoop. The rest of his team was behind him in seconds.
"State your name!" James commanded.
The Grunt squealed in surprise but said nothing else.
"Talk!" The Commander growled, shaking the grunt's body violently.
"You'll never take me, cyborgs!" he screeched, delirious. Moving the pistol, he aimed it at his own head. James moved to stop him as the Grunt screamed. "Ahhhhhhhh!" He pulled the trigger...and fell limp. He was dead, and James let him drop to the forest floor. He was of no use any longer.
Signaling to his team, James silently ordered them to proceed further. The lights came on in his HUD, and the deadly team continued towards the Fortress.
Just several minutes into the trek after meeting the Grunts, James heard a sound. It was not very loud, but just enough to make him hold up his hand, calling a halt. The three Spartans behind him stopped immediately. A normal human wouldn't have been able to hear what they heard, but then again, they weren't normal humans.
The sound had come from somewhere in the trees. The Spartans waved their assault rifles up, tracing the trees with their muzzles, trying to locate any danger.
In his HUD, Jarrett could see one heat signature that was not their own. In all his years under the UNSC, he had come to learn the signatures of most Covenant enemies. And he knew his one. Jackals!
Jarrett aimed into the trees and didn't hesitate. His finger pressed quickly on the trigger and he held it there. The branch he was targeting was pumped full of bullets. The branch gave way, and a screaming Jackal fell from it. He hit the ground with a hard thump and tried to sit up.
At James's command, Alex pressed his heavy boot into the squawking Jackal's chest, trying to hold him there. The plasma shield shattered against the ground, and his plasma rifle bounced away. Leaning his weight onto the Jackal's chest, Alex grilled him hard. He wanted answers.
James came up behind them and stared down menacingly. "State your name."
The Jackal screeched and struggled more.
"Answer my question and maybe you'll live!" James growled through gritted teeth. "Just maybe."
After stopping his struggle, the Jackal obeyed. However, this one spoke no English, so the only thing he did was lie there, staring up at his captors. James sighed and turned to Alex. "Kill him. He can't understand me."
Alex grabbed a hold of James arm, stopping him. "Kill him?" he asked. "Why not just incapacitate him and make it so he's no threat?"
James turned back to face his teammate. "Are you questioning my orders? Again?"
Alex stared hard into the visor of his Commander. He had a position, and this time, he wasn't going to back off. "If we stoop to killing him like we did those Grunts, who were also no threat, we're just as bad as he is. Do you want to be like that?"
Wondering why Alex had picked now to have a sudden conscience attack, James raised his MA5B and pulled the trigger for two seconds, putting twelve rounds into the Jackal's brain. Orange gore spattered on the ground under the Jackal. "Because it's our only recourse. Do you want to wait until they're all firing explosive needles at you, and take shots at them then?"
Just then, several Jackals leaped from the trees, surrounding the group. "Want to protect them now?" James cried as Alex raised his weapon, shaking his head.
Around seven of the birdlike creatures came at them, and even more sprang from the bushes. They screeched and yelled, waving their weapons madly, plasma shields protecting their frail bodies. The Spartans would have to stop and fight.
1006 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Ten miles south of Orean Fotress on moon of planet Raiek
A plasma bolt dispelled itself against Bryce's shields. He whipped around, leveled the assault rifle in his hands and pulled the trigger. The bullets pinged harmlessly off the Jackal's shield. In fury, Bryce hurled himself upoin the Jackal, shattering the shield. Once it was down, he rammed the gun into the Jackal's throat, gagging it to death.
Alex dodged a strike from a plasma pistol and came in under the shield with his own pistol, striking the Jackal on his chin. The Jackal's head snapped back and he stumbled over. With a mighty swing, Alex struck the Jackal again, knocking him out.
After rolling away from three plasma bolts, James leaped up and turned to face the four Jackals. He pulled out his pistol and hurled it at one of the shields. The Jackal screeched and flung himself backwards, revealing his fleshy body. James leveled the rifle and held the trigger down. The Jackal screamed in pain and collapsed, dead. One of the Jackal's comrades knelt and snatched up James's M6D, holstering his plasma gun. The Jackals behind him opened fire. James's shields took the brunt of the attack, but he did stumble backwards. Pulling the pin on a frag grenade, James hurled it and stood back. The resulting explosion took out one of the Jackals and wounded the one with the pistol. James sprinted forward and snatched the pistol. He fired a bullet into the Jackal's head and then spun to face the one who had been burned. Using his boot, he kicked the underside of the shield. As the Jackal flailed backwards to keep his balance, James raised both guns and fired them, taking the Jackal down in a pool of orange blood. For the last Jackal, James fired at the shield with his assault rifle. When he acted as if it ran out of bullets, the Jackal pulled out his gun and started to fire, lowering the shield. James raised the pistol and killed him with a head shot.
Alex leaped up a tree and snatched one of the branches. Three Jackals were below him, screeching and squawking in anticipation of the kill. Alex pulled the pin of a fragmentation grenade and let it fall. The Jackals screamed and scattered. When the explosion went off, Alex gripped the tree harder so he wouldn't fall. Below him, one Jackal was tossed against a tree, dead. Another was thrown to the ground, injured. The third escaped with no injuries. Alex leveled his gun at the injured one and opened fire. However, its shield covered the majority of its body, so the bullets bounced harmlessly off. Reluctant, but realizing he had no choice, Alex pulled the pin with his finger from another grenade and dropped it next to the Jackal, who was incinerated as he screamed. The final Jackal looked up, and Alex fired his M6D pistol. The bullets pinged off his shield as the Jackal hid, but when he looked up, Alex was gone. A knock on the head from behind told him Alex had snuck around him. He fell and didn't move. Alex laid a bullet into his head. James was right; if the Spartans didn't kill, they would be killed.
1004 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Outside of Fortress Orean on moon of planet Raiek
Moores' rockets, and time, had run out. UNSC forces had no missiles left to fire at the Fortress Orean. The time had come to charge the base and hit them hard and fast, even if none of them survived. As long as they could delay the Covenant long enough for the Spartans to arrive, the Earth and Outer Colonies would be saved for now.
Speaking into his mic to Lieutenant Sellers, Moores put his plan into action. "It is time to charge them, Sellers," he said sternly. "Get into position and go on my mark."
"Aye aye, sir," Sellers returned. He moved to his left and watched as the brave Marines hopped into their places. The driver looked down at Sellers and smiled. He knew he was going to die soon, but he also knew the reason, and if it was the humans he was saving, it would be well worth the cost.
The gunner mounted up and waited until the passenger was in position before he signaled to the driver that everyone was ready. The three of them were prepared to lose their lives for Earth.
Next to them, another driver hopped into position and his gunner and passenger mounted. The two Warthogs were to drive right at the Fortress, targeting the control room and Shade defenses, taking out as much along they way as they could before being destroyed.
Behind them, the second wave of two was prepping itself. One of the drivers was standing with his gunner, and chelling some of the systems on the Warthog. He wanted to make sure everything was in top condition for the second run.
Moores's voice crackled through Sellers's mic. "Go!" he commanded.
The driver gunned the engine. The first Warthog's wheels spun and then gripped the ground, causing it to lurch forward. The second 'Hog moved along as well, following just behind it. Almost immediately, the two gunners opened fire, the bullets raining over the Shade cannons, killing the Grunt operators. The Marines riding shotgun pulled out their MA5B assault rifles and let 'em rip. They were to concentrate on the ground forces, which they mowed right through. Shields of the Elites didn't last long against the powerful bullets ripping into them. They died screaming.
A Wraith tank moved out from begind the Fortress's entrance tunnel. It lined up the cannon to the advancing Warthogs. The cannon mounted on top of it was collecting plasma energy from the fuel tank and starting to fire it. Within seconds, it was prepped. The Elite inside pulled the firing trigger, launching the gigantic fireball into the air. It whistled through the air and came down at the peak of its flight.
The first Warthog gunner looked up and spotted the fireball as it arced upwards. He screamed to the driver and pointed upwards. As the ball of plasma came back down, the driver swerved. Behind them, the second Warthog tried to move as well, but the plasma ball landed in a great explosion next to them. The shockwave rolled over them, and the energy caught the fuel tank. In a fiery explosion, the 'Hog was ripped apart, killing all aboard it instantly, burning them alive.
Moving as fast as they could, the driver of the first 'Hog drove out of range of the Wraith, trying to avoid the deadly plasma balls it fired. The gunner aimed his chain-gun at the command deck. When he was sure his aim would prove true, he pressed down on the trigger and the bullets flew up and shattered the glass windows.
Inside the room, Zaron turned to face out just as the glass in front of his face shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. He screamed, clicking his mandibles angrily, and flung himself backwards to avoid the hail of bullets that put numerous holes into the room, tearing up computers and other equipment.
Standon tried to crawl away, but Zaron snatched him up. Moving to one wall, he opened a glass tube made for one. When the glass covering rose, Zaron flung him inside and slammed it shut. From outside, Standon could hear the gold-clad Elite hiss out, "You'll be safe in there, General. Don't want you to accidently get killed in the battle, do I?" He tapped the glass. "That glass is plasma-proof. You'll never get out with human or even Covenant weaponry!"
With that, Zaron turned and looked at his radar-station Elite. "Where are the humans? How far have they come? And what shattered the glass?" he cried as more bullets flew into the room, killing numerous Elites, Grunts, and Jackals.
The officer turned and faced his commander. "They are still back in the trees, and they're nearly one-fourth of the way here. It was the human Warthog that evaded the Wraith tank that shattered the glass and is still firing in here."
Roaring in fury, Zaron turned to his right-hand man. "Get the snipers out there! I want that Warthog gone!" To himself, he muttered, "Why humans use such petty things as glass is beyond my comprehension!"
Leaving the Covenant to go about their duties, Zaron ran from the room to pursue another goal. He wanted to watch Gantu come in and make sure he made it. He didn't particularly like that one, and if he burned up trying to get in, it would be all the better.
The Covenant dropship hovered around the command deck's defenses. Several Shades and sniper Elite posts were mounted on the front, protected by plasma shields. The dropship steered as close as it could, and dropped the Covenant warriors to their places.
The last Warthog kept coming. While the gunner reloaded, the Marine riding shotgun slammed a fresh clip in his gun and swept the MA5B assault rifle at the ground troops. Elites, Grunts and Jackals fell at the mercy of the rapid-fire gun. Only Hunters could withstand it.
As they were nearing the base, a Howler stood in their path. The driver saw him and tried to stop. Alas, it was too late. The Howler opened his mouth and let out an ear-shattering screamed. Tipping over from the mighty shockwave, the Warthog crashed to a stop, killing all board as it turned upside-down.