Everything was immediately stowed away and men moved into position. The snipers were on the rooftops, hidden of course. The explosive techs were down at the far end laying a minefield, one of three. There was one on the far end, one in the middle, and one up front. They were all on remote detonators.
The MBTs were in the trench with the barrel parallel to the ground. The warthogs were hidden a trench directly behind the scorpions. This arrangement had overlapping fields of fire. What ever was caught in its field of fire would be mowed down in mille-seconds. Even golden elite with the best shields couldn't stand long with that kind of fire.
They could hold their own for at least a week. But, recent satellite images revealed that all the covenant in the area were in bound. That meant that there was going to be thousands of them. We had a mere four hundred eighty men fighting thousands upon thousands of covenant. They had to hold their own, even if it meant death.
"Sir," yelled a communications tech, "We got general on the horn."
"Ok, maybe he has some good news for once," replied the cornel.
"Yes he odes sir, he says that reinforcements are in bound," said the overjoyed tech.
"How many?" questioned the cornel.
"Can't say, He broke up before I could ask." Said the tech.
"Any reinforcements are good." The cornel said, "Stay on post sergeant."
"Will do sir," he replied.
The good thing was that there were reinforcements in bound. Bad thing was they didn't know how many. For a time the cornel pondered this query in his make shift office. Soon Lt. Hanson appeared in the door.
"Sir, we have sighted a pelican drop ship in bound."
"Good, I be there in a second."
The cornel got up and headed up to the make shift landing pads. There was a pelican in bound all right. Only one though, but reinforcements were reinforcements. Soon the pelican landed. The rear door opened marines poured out the last to get off was a fully armored Spartan.
"Spartan 279 reporting for duty sir," it said.