Chapter 2: Jericho VII
0418 Hours, February 12, 2525 (Military Calendar)/Lambda Serpentis System, Jericho VII
The ground shook as thousands of Covenant troops began their assault on Jericho VII. Staff Sergeant Ryan Tate stood along with his platoon of troops, ready to expend their lives on a moment's notice. Black streaks began to crisscross the horizon; thousands of Covenant troops. Tate spit out the cigar in his mouth and discarded it on the ground.
A transmission blared in his headset: "Bravo team! You're our last hope! You can't let this city fall!" Nobody mentioned that it didn't matter whether or not this battle was won or lost. The Covenant would glass the planet from orbit regardless, leaving billions dead.
Archaius City was their last line of defense. All other strongholds had fallen, and the marines had retreated and engaged guerilla warfare to keep the Covenant at bay. But Tate knew he would have to face the Covenant in a direct confrontation eventually, and this was it. He drew his S2 AM sniper rifle and took aim at a nearby Banshee. A single shot fired from the rifle, producing a satisfying crack! One of the anti-gravity pods on the end of the flying machine was hit, and the flier tumbled to the ground, trailing dense smoke.
Thousands of Covenant troops marched into the city, hungry for blood. "All teams fire! Open fire!" Tate commanded. The air filled with thousands of armor piercing rounds. The front five rows of Grunts were mercilessly cut down under the barrage of sustained fire, but hundreds more took their place.
"Shredder rounds!" Tate shouted. Dozens of marines ejected their spent clips and inserted new ones. Tate jammed the new clip into his assault rifle with a satisfying clack and opened fire. He pulled the trigger and a trio of Grunts fell. Another sustained burst and the methane rigs of two more Grunts were pierced by shredder rounds, releasing bluish gas into the air. Scores of Grunts trampled their fallen brethren.
Hordes of aliens wielding deflective shields called out orders to the low-level Grunts, who regrouped and attacked, Jackals in the front, Grunts in the center. The marine next to Tate shrieked as explosive needles penetrated her flesh and exploded a second later. The marine fell into shock before her body even hit the ground. Tate wordlessly stripped the marine of her ammo and opened fire once again.
The marine next to Tate shouted, "Grenades!" Tate primed one of his frags and tossed it into the center of the Covenant formation, behind the shielding aliens. It exploded, scattering the armored phalanx. Tate then keyed his com: "Snipers! Take out the shielded bastards!" A series of muffled shots sliced through the air to the Jackals' unprotected flank, halting the Covenant assault. Without Jackals to lead the attack, the Grunts scattered their formation, panicked. Tate watched as Grunts were cut down by sustained fire and sporadic cracks of sniper rifles that split the air.
Confident that he was out the range of the Covenant plasma weapons, Tate drew his sniper rifle and opened fire. Three shots split the air, and three targets fell. The last shot took out an entire file of Grunts that had been foolish enough to stand in a straight line. The armor-piercing sabot round penetrated a Grunt's chest and continued on its path out the alien's back, killing two more Grunts before finally coming to a stop, embedded in a Jackal's head.
The tide of the battle began to turn. Tate discarded his empty sniper rifle and shouldered his assault rifle. He crouched, and opened fire, cutting down a column of Grunts. Two more fell from a controlled burst, blue blood pooling near wounds in their heads. As the sergeant reloaded, a familiar screeching sound reached his ears that he had come to associate with Banshees. Sure enough, a squad of Banshee flyers veered overhead in a "V" formation.
"Randall!" Tate shouted. "Give me that damn Jackhammer!" A marine approached and handed off the rocket launcher to Tate. Tate loaded the launcher and fired two rockets into the air. The rockets flared and crashed into the two nearest Banshees, which spiraled to the ground trailing smoke. The rest banked towards the ocean and flew in for a second pass. Before they could fire all five of the remaining Banshees exploded. A wave of heat rushed over Tate, who recognized the explosion as being caused by napalm fougasses.
Tate was so focused on watching the intense explosion that the first indication that the Covenant had regrouped was when a wave of plasma lanced across his chest plate. Tate flung the melted armor to the ground and turned to face the threat. Three plasma grenades arched through the air. One attached itself to the shoulder plate of the marine next to Tate, whom he recognized as Private Randall.
Tate shouted, "Take off the armor!" but Randall panicked and fell to the ground. The grenade exploded, and Tate felt Randall's warm blood splash across the side of his face. One by one marines fell from the regrouped assault. Tate grabbed the trigger of a nearby chain-gun emplacement and fired. The turret spewed bullets left and right, rattling Tate's teeth as it did so. It was effective, but hardly enough to stop the Covenant rampage.
Tate ducked to avoid a plasma bolt and threw his remaining grenades over the thin armor surrounding the chain-gun. They detonated with strident thuds and sent debris flying into the air. Hordes of Covenant marched through the clouds of dirt and shrapnel. Two shots grazed his shoulder plate, searing the armor and burning Tate's flesh. He didn't even bother to remove the smoldering armor while he reloaded his assault rifle. Tate expended the clip in one long burst, killing two Jackals and three Grunts. After exhausting all of his assault rifle ammo he shouldered the Jackhammer launcher that Randall had given him and fired into the center of the Covenant formation. A Jackal's body was flung a full twenty meters backwards by the force of the explosion. The second shot disintegrated a column of Grunts, a smoldering crater formed where dozens of Covenant warriors had once stood. He dropped the smoking Jackhammer launcher and ran; that was all he could do.
Tate glanced left and right. Scores of corpses, both Covenant and human, littered the ground, riddled with bullets and seared by plasma. Other marines joined him in retreat, and were gunned down in turn. He forced the sudden realization that he was the last surviving marine down his throat. He would live to fight another day. The battlefield wouldn't become his grave.
Lances of badly aimed explosive needles and plasma flew over Tate's shoulder. A single streak of plasma finally impacted his back. He collapsed, unable to move.
Tate was more tired than he had ever been in his life. He slowly raised his hand to his shoulder and pulled it away. It came away moist with his own blood. He tried to reach for the M6D sidearm in his belt holster, but before he could do so, a trio of cloudy figures circled over his head.
His fading vision picked outthree biped creatures standing over his body. They were taller than the standard human and wore faintly luminous green armor that encased their bodies, underlined in layers of black. For a second Tate thought the figures were Covenant, but they turned and opened fire in unison on the aliens. A trio of needles stuck to one of the figure's armor, and exploded. Instead of falling to the ground as it should have, its armor glowed faintly with a yellow luster. The figure continued firing, unharmed. They stepped over Tate's body and kept the Covenant at bay, against impossible odds. Spartans...
His vision finally faded, leaving only blackness.