The group of Scorpion tanks and Warthogs rumbled along. Marines were happily chatting while a few Hell-jumpers were laughing at some of Sergeant Hanson's jokes. The Master Chief was quiet as he sat on the side of a Scorpion, surveying the terrain.
They had titled the area where the damaged ships were the HQ. A few vehicles and marines had stayed to protect the crew while a party of soldiers headed towards the near forest to scout out enemies. The Pelicans had sent reports that small bands of Covenant were patrolling the hills. What was strange was the group was only comprised of Elites and Jackals. None of the other aliens had been spotted with a patrol and that baffled the Master Chief. Why weren't the Covenant sending out their full force against the humans?
Hills protruded from the surface of the grassy and fertile land. Huge rocks and stumps were scattered across the landscape as a cool wind blew by. As they reached the peak of a hill the Spartan could see a huge forest that laid near the end of the land. Oval-shaped trees with thick trunks clustered in a huge row that ran on for miles. It was dark in the depths of this forest and the Master Chief felt the hair raise on his neck. Why were there stumps in such a desolate place? Only a living being could have cut down the tree…
Suddenly, a trio of huge green plasma bolts sailed across the air and landed one after another on a tank, immediately killing the operator and decimating the armor into scrap. More plasma followed that homed in on the other tanks, flipped over Warthogs and obliviated unfortunate Marines that had been on foot.
Protruding from the depths of the forest were gigantic walking behemoths that the humans referred to as Hunters. Unlike the blue Hunters that they had battled in their future world, these hunters were brown and had differently shaped shields and larger fuel rod guns.
" Marines!" shouted Sergeant Hanson, " Do not seek cover! Keep moving and strafing and split yourselves! These bad boys may be tough but their shots are slow, and we can dodge them. Warthogs, tell the bastard manning the turret that he better never release his finger from the trigger. I want to count at least a million shells on the ground when this battles over!"
" I assume that they're distraction so that our slow MBT Scorpions can survive and fire their shots off right?" muttered the Admiral.
" Well, duh! In medieval times the warriors fought to give the archers cover. Except our archers are firing 90mm high velocity shells that can destroy a whole battalion."
Warthogs circled the clearing as their gunners began to pelt the beasts with armor-piercing bullets. Shells littered the ground as the operators of each turret held down the trigger for maximum damage. Marines with rockets and sniper rifles began to pick out individual beasts while the rest primed and threw frag grenades to blast the Hunters with shrapnel. The tanks at the rear began to let loose with their main cannon as constant blasts hit the beasts with massive forces. Hunter bodies began to litter the ground as dozens met their demise from the huge shells and firepower of the marines.
Yet, the Hunters inflicted their damage as well. Green plasma washed over warthogs as they roared past, flinging the already dead driver and his passengers on other vehicles. Slow moving tanks were unable to dodge multiple bursts of the deadly shots that blew the control panel off the tank and obliviated the driver inside. Surprisingly, the marines on foot were the ones who took the least casualties. Spread out on the battlefield they were able to anticipate the shots and move quickly from its path. Though not putting up as much of a fight as the tanks or Warthogs, they were able to distract the Hunters on focusing their entire power on the vehicles.
The Master Chief had clambered off the Scorpion and reached a nearby hill to set up his sniper rifle. Adjusting his scope to view ten times over he was able to spot a couple of hunters taking pot shots at the scattering marines. Sighting them in his scope he took a deep breath and pulled the trigger four times.
Four Hunters collapsed on the terrain, holes punched in their exposed backs or their heads. Releasing the spent magazine and adding a fresh clip, he placed the enemies in his sight once again and took another huge breath. A couple more squeezes brought down a pair of Hunters that had just emerged from the foliage and another pair that had been attempting to overturn a damaged Warthog. Just as he was adding another clip a huge plasma shot landed on the hill in front of him. Though covered by the ascent of the hill the splash damage rolled across his shields until it began to beep and blink red. Knowing that he was in danger without a workable shield, the Master Chief quickly evacuated his position and grabbed a rocket launcher from one of the upturned Warthogs. While on the Carrier Falcon, the Spartan had received permission to add a rocket launcher to each of the vehicles for emergency use. Master Chief had learned that the Warthog's speed and size gave the otherwise useless passenger a better advantage of firing a well-placed rocket and adding more carnage.
It seemed that a plasma blot had flipped the vehicle on its side, crushing the occupants. However, the turret and weapons were still operational giving the Spartan an idea. Flipping the vehicle with his enhanced strength he quickly clambered up on the back of the vehicle and manned the turret. Unlike the three-barreled machine guns that most Warthogs had, this special vehicle carried the new version of the M68 Gauss Cannon. Firing 25mm projectiles at a hypersonic speed it did slightly less damage than a rocket launcher but fired three constant shots before having to cool off for several seconds. Its excellent armor penetration capability made it a dangerous vehicle against most heavily armed foes but weak against huge groups or platoons.
With grim accuracy the Spartan fired the first three rounds on the Hunters. The first two shots blasted the Hunter backwards and gore splashed on its comrades. The last shot knocked into the head of a Hunter who had been charging his fuel rod gun. The Hunter howled, accidentally releasing the charged shot and killing his bond brother.
His plan worked as the Hunters were distracted by the commotion. He fired a few more rounds after the cannon had cooled and jumped off just as four plasma shots crashed into the vehicle. Drawing out his M19 SSM Rocket Launcher the Chief fired two shots at a pair of Hunters. Lifting up their shields, the Hunters didn't expect the shots to fly under their only protection and hit their legs. The resulting contact created an explosion that blew the creatures into hot sizzling pieces of metal and meat.
Reloading two new missiles into the chamber he quickly dashed to another upturned Warthog and grabbed four more rockets. Firing the current missiles from the chamber to another pair of Hunters that had been smashing the occupants of an upturned Warthog he quickly reloaded and placed four rockets in his supply pack. He ran and fired at the Hunters while heading for each damaged Warthog to refill his launcher. Even though he was racking up kills, his endurance was pushed to the limit as he was forced to sprint hundred of yards while carrying the heavy launcher and the extra rockets.
Even with the hard fight the marines put up, they were slowly being forced back. The Hunters had begun sprinting towards the group of vehicles, wiping out dozens of marines as it smashed its shield on the helpless soldiers. A few lucky marines were able to dodge the rampage and shoot a couple of well placed shots in their back, breaking through their spine and cutting out of its stomach, instantly killing the huge moving tank. But then the marines were demolished by fuel rod shots or run over by the enraged bond brother. The tide of the battle was quickly turned over to the Hunters as the Warthogs lost space for maneuvering and the Scorpions began to run low on shells.
Just as the Master Chief thought, " I think the shit has really hit the fan now" the Hunters suddenly moved back into the shelter of the trees and disappeared within the forest. Taking advantage of this unexpected retreat he quickly reloaded his launcher with new missiles and sat down, unwrapping an energy bar that he had brought with him. The vanilla chocolate bar brought him the needed nutrients and calmed his raging metabolism that also came with his enhancements. He took a quick drink of water and surveyed the forest. Why had the Hunters retreated just when they were about to achieve victory? Their sudden action baffled the Spartan and worried the Chief as he pondered the numerous possibilities for this predicament. He glanced over at the marines and ODSTs.
Most of them seemed unhurt, though in this battle it was either get hit and killed by the huge plasma shots and rampages or be lucky and not hit at all. Several were nursing small sores to their feet and judging from the fact that they had been constantly running for the whole battle it seemed natural for such injuries.
Robert, or "Bob" as the Spartan later learned, had been unhurt from the battle by was vigorously massaging his arm. Seeing that it was his right arm that hurt and that his grenade bandolier was empty, Master Chief knew that they boy had been chucking grenades through out most of the battle. A rocket launcher and battle rifle with an empty magazine lay by his feet. The Chief surmised that the boy had attempted to carry the rocket launcher into battle, discovered he couldn't even lift the weapon, and had resorted to using his battle rifle.
Chris was next to him wrapping bandages across his head. A huge gash ran across his cheek all the way to his neck and was bleeding heavily. The Spartan saw that his whole ODST uniform had been covered by the orange blood of a Hunter and that he had his M6D pistol out. Though this "D" variant" had been replaced with the dual-wielding M6C pistol, it still packed a punch with its armor-piercing rounds and the X2 scope that it carrier. Master Chief guessed that the ODST had survived an initial charge by a Hunter and had gotten to its flank, firing his M6D pistol that had killed the Hunter and splashed its blood on the ODST's uniform.
Just as the Master Chief finished digesting his bar, a huge Hunter emerged from the forest. Guns were cocked and engines ignited as the marines prepared for battle.
" Hold your fire man!" yelled the Admiral. " It must be asking for a truce. Bring the A.I translator here!"
" Truce my half-burned ass," muttered the Sergeant. "I think the Hunter just came out cause it was feeling suicidal. Let's put it out of its misery with our traditional Marine greeting." And with that statement he pulled the lever of turret and set its sights on the Hunter.
" I would not advise you standing on that turret Sergeant," replied the shimmering A.I. That Hunter's armor is far more endurable than the other Hunters and you'll be in particles before you can do any real damage."
The Admiral held Toto as the A.I examined the Hunter. The Hunter was far different from the normal creatures. It was twice as big and its armor was gold. Its shield and fuel rod gun were also larger by comparison. The creature began to growl and grunt as it began to wave its arms in exaggerated gestures.
" Translation nerd," ordered the Admiral as he continued to watch the Hunter.
" Affirmative my primitive caveman," answered the A.I as letters and numbers began to compute across its body. " Judging by the aggressive arm movements and its lower growl, it seems to be challenging one of you marines to a battle. Obviously it has figured that to continue this battle would be to inflict even more casualties. Quite a sensitive and thoughtful creature I might add."
" The most sensitive and thoughtful thing any Covenant should do would be to just die!" yelled a Hell jumper and a chorus of " O-rah!" were yelled by his group.
" All right ladies and girls, which one of you wussies want to go up against the goliath over there? Inquired the Sergeant.
Just as several hands were about to rise for participation, the Hunter lifted its huge arm and slammed it in the ground. A huge wave of dirt flew in the air and the ground around the beast cracked and bent. A second smash caused a hole as big as a swimming pool to form in the dirt. Several hands fell upon seeing the whole and only two hands remained.
One was Master Chief. The other was Chris.
" Look, Mr. Superman," snarled Chris, " I think you've had enough glory for one day. Why don't you let someone who actually achieved his own rank and physique bring glory back to the real soldiers? I'm gonna show you how easy it is to—"
But whatever act he had proclaimed easy was interrupted as a gush of blood began to ooze out of the side of his head. He clamped it tightly, attempting to restrain the blood flow, but only succeeded in getting his hands bloody as the flow continued down to his shirt.
" Hell-jumper, I respect your bravery in going up against the beast but by the time you even lift that gun that things is gonna make you into some sizzled hash brown," commented the Admiral. " Why don't you let the Master Chief try? I'm sure that he can get an opening on the monster and kick its ass. If Hunters even have asses."
As the Admiral pondered this, the Master Chief strode over to one of the vehicles and grabbed grenades, two M6C pistols and a battle rifle. After ensuring that the weapons were fully loaded he strode over to the gold Hunter. He had a feeling that this was not going to be easy.
