CHAPTER FIVE¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯
0700 Hours, January 26, 2535 (Military Calendar)/ Lambda Serpentis System, Covenant Ship near Jericho III
'Plague'
Plague looked on, unable to help, as the giant ball of green plasma raced toward his friend. He was only able to stand and watch as Wrench crouched, bracing for impact, and the projectile hit, creating a large cloud of green smoke. Plague was worried about Wrenches fate, but hesitated no longer to see the outcome of the blast. The mission was more important. His and his team's safety was only his second priority.
Without so much as a second's consideration of a plan, Plague leveled his assault rifle at the hunters and began spraying them with fire. It was almost completely pointless, as the heavy armor they wore could withstand almost anything short of a head on rocket. However, Plague didn't have time to consider such things. He wanted to distract the hunters as quickly as possible.
His clip was nearly depleted by the time two of the huge enemies turned toward him. Both had charged fuel rod cannons, and both fired. Plague jumped, high into the air and toward them, carrying him over their heads and to the other side. He landed in the midst of the six, all of which now had their attention turned to him. The two fuel rod charges that had been aimed at him had detonated harmlessly a ways away.
He now, however, had gotten himself out of the frying pan, and into the fire. He had to face six angry hunters, all at close range. One advantage was his though. The two hunters that had fired at him were to his right, and had not yet been able to turn around. Almost as soon as he landed, he whipped out his pistol, and fired a number of rounds into the exposed flesh on their backs.
At least one round penetrated each of them, because they both fell, one off the edge of the catwalk. There were still four hunters behind him though, and this presented a major problem. He could practically feel the heat of their weapons on his back, even though he knew that his cybernetic armor made this impossible.
He heard the sound of one being fired, but even before that, he had stepped to his right, and off the side of the catwalk. The fuel rod charge raced past him on his left as he grabbed the edge of the thin walkway. He used him momentum to swing his body around the bottom of it, and come up, feet first, back on top. His heavy boots collided with a Hunter's armored side, and knocked him off his balance, sending off the edge of the catwalk and crashing into a second story catwalk near Brute.
Three down, three to go. Plague spun a little and came to face the next hunter, who was about three yards away. The giant fired his weapon, and Plague rolled under the shot, toward the hunter. As he came out of his roll, he pulled out his sniper and literally jammed the skinny barrel through the small slot in the enemy's faceplate.
He pulled the gun back, and the Hunter fell in front of him, colorful blood oozing from the deadly wound. The next two hunters seemed determined not to be beat. The overlapped their shields, making it impossible to hit and exposed area with his sniper. These ones, he could see, would present a bit more of a challenge.
They both released their charged projectiles. One missed and went sailing down to the lower floors, but one came straight for Plague, and collided with his stomach, sending him flying back into the air. He flew back at an angle, so he fell of the catwalk. As he was falling, he realized that his shields had completely drained and that if he fell all the way to the first floor, he wouldn't survive.
He spun in the air to his right, and managed to grab hold of another catwalk. However, he couldn't conjure up the strength to pull himself up. Realizing he was holding on to a second level catwalk though, he simply dropped the short distance to the ground, and moved to the other side of the engine for cover as his shields recharged.
'Brute'
Like Plague, Brute watched, terrified as the green orb soared toward Wrench. Brute couldn't do a thing about it as the projectile detonated right on top of Wrench. A green smoke cloud blocked the damage from view, and Brute waited anxiously for it to clear. He didn't get to see if Wrench survived though, because right then, he saw his shield flare up and begin to drop as plasma fire splashed into his back. He spun around and realized that he hadn't been watching the door on his level. Five elites stood in the open doorway, two of which were gold and wielded plasma swords.
Brute had no time to waste checking on Wrench, he had his own problems. All three of the regular elite were rapidly firing their plasma rifles, while both gold elites charged him. One reached him first, and took a chest level swing at him. Brute ducked and kicked the elite in the side. His foot hit the elite's shields, sending him over the side of the catwalk, and down to ground floor.
The second one reached him a moment later, and by then the plasma fire had drained his shields. The gold elite brought his sword straight down through the air as though to slice Brute from head to toe. Brute however, sidestepped, grabbed the elite's sword hand, and pulled the enemy into a position between himself and the three elites in the doorway.
The gold elite struggled, but his strength was no match for that of Brutes, who's already great strength was amplified many times by his MJOLNIR battle armor. The three enemies' fire stopped as they figured out the situation. Brute had hoped to kill the gold elite with their fire, but that had not happened. He had a backup plan though, he always did.
He forced the elite's hand back, breaking its arm, and slashed the sword across its chest, killing it. He then ripped the sword from its grip and charged at the remaining three elites. His plan was not very successful though, because as he ran, the sword, due to some fail-safe deactivate. His shields had regenerated, but only about halfway, so as the enemies opened fire, he ditched the sword and rolled a grenade into the doorway. They all screamed and in a crazy panic all tried to run different directions at the same time. Two of them collided, sending them onto the ground, essentially sealing their fate. The third attempted to retreat back into the tunnel, but tripped over his fallen comrades and he too was destroyed in the ensuing explosion.
Brute saw the bodies fly from the tunnel and out into the room and let out a sigh of relief. His shield had been drained yet again by their final burst of fire, and now he had a moment to let it recharge.
He only thought he did though, for hardly a second later, a hunter came falling from a higher lever, and crashed into the catwalk right next to him, ripping a giant gap in the walkway. The crash shook the catwalk, and sent him tumbling to the first floor after the now dead hunter.
After regaining his orientation and standing up, he realized that yet again he had another problem to deal with. For one Wrench, who had been on the first level, where Brute now was, was nowhere to be seen. Second, the gold elite that had gone off the edge earlier was standing only a few yards away, minimally injured, and looking as angry as ever.
Brute tried to grab his shotgun, but the elite hurled himself at him, knocking them both to the ground. The elite was on top, and raised his sword. Brute was too fast though, and he grabbed the elite's arm as it brought the weapon down. The blade was hovering half a foot above his face.
Again though, Brute's strength was not to be beat. He pushed the weapon up, and the enemy fell back and off of him. He took the little time he had bought to roll backward and into a crouch.
Again the elite charged, but this time Brute was faster. He pulled out his shotgun, and fired a round into its stomach. It was wounded, but continued toward him none the less. Brute could see that it was in agony just trying to keep running. The elite never had a chance after that.
Brute pulled the trigger, and another round pounded into its stomach. The blow sent it flying backward, its sword skidding across the floor. The weapon came to rest a few feet from its owner, and deactivated.
'Wrench'
Wrench watched in horror as the giant, green ball of energy hurtled toward him at an astonishing rate. He entered the unexplainable state of Spartan time as everything around him seemed to race and move slowly at the same time. He had only a fraction of a second to think, and yet it seemed like he had all the time in the world.
He crouched, preparing for impact, then, just in time, jumped up and to his right, out of the way. The blast struck the ground below him, depleted his shields, and sent him flying up at an incredible speed. His angle brought him close to the huge covenant engine, and he grabbed onto an extruding device of some sort, planting his feet onto the side of the massive structure.
He quickly looked around and assessed the situation. The blast had sent him flying up to the third floor, where he was now clinging to the engine. Looking up, he saw Plague on a fourth floor catwalk engaging a number of hunters. Below him, Brute fought a group of elites on the second story.
Deciding that Plague needed his help a lot more, he attempted to push off of the engine and jump to the catwalk where Plague was now facing only four of the original six hunters. However, Wrench's jump fell short, and though he stretched his arms, his fingertips only brushed the edge of the catwalk. He fell a short distance, and landed on a third level walkway.
He looked up, and saw a hunter fall off the walkway above him, and go crashing through another below him. He knew that it was a good sign, but figured Plague could definitely use his help. His suspicion was confirmed when he heard a fuel rod charge detonate above him, then saw Plague fly off the walkway, and down to the lower levels.
Wrench hesitated for the first time on his mission. He was unsure of what to do. For one, his teammate, Plague, was most likely wounded; possibly seriously depending on how much of his shields had survived. The safety of the team was not his top priority though. His most important goal was the completion of his mission. However, thought Wrench, technically, destroying the hunters was not imperative to the completion of the mission.
It could affect the mission though, he decided. So he abandoned Plague for the time being, and jumped up, grabbing on to the edge of the fourth floor catwalk Plague had been on a second earlier.
Two hunters remained, both of which, had just fired their weapons, and so were not ready for any sort of mid to long range combat. The walkway was only wide enough for one hunter, so the first one charged at him while the second stayed back. Wrench guessed that it would prepare its weapon.
As the enemy ran toward him, it hunched forward and brought its shield up in a wide sweeping motion. Wrench jumped back, and threw a plasma grenade he had picked up earlier. The small explosive stuck to the hunter's exposed belly, and as it realized what was happening, it let out a deep roar, and stumbled back.
It came close to its teammate, but the other hunter took a step back to avoid him. The explosion engulfed the hunter in a blue ball of smoke. As it cleared, Wrench saw the green glow of a charged fuel rod cannon. The hunter fired, and for the second time in the last few minutes, a giant, green, plasma projectile came soaring toward him.
This one, however, he was prepared for. He jumped, and although it didn't completely spare him from all damage, his shields took the entire blow. They dropped to fifty percent as Wrench flew over the head of his enemy.
The hunter turned stupidly as he landed on the other side and proceeded to empty half of an assault rifle clip into its exposed back. By the time it had fully turned around, it was so weak, that Wrench was able to spray five rounds at its faceplate, and it fell forward, dead.
