Author's Note: Sorry about how long it took to write this chapter. I've been really busy with work and school but I'll probably be able to write more often now. I just want to thank all the people who have taken the time to read my story so far, and a special thanks to NoneAvailable, gta5ccjs, and Halosobsessed1010 for their kind reviews. You probably don't know how much your support means to us authors :) Finally I want to thank Fort Minor Mike Shinoda and all the people who produced The Rising Tied and gave me something to listen to while writing. Remember the Name!

Chapter 4: Shiva

0600 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Reach Northern Hemisphere, HighCom Armory Omega

Plasma burned within several inches of Campbell's head before splattering into the rear of the trench in a spray of superheated dirt and a hiss of steam. Campbell ducked into the trench as more plasma tore into the area his head had occupied milliseconds before, punching more divots into the side of the trench. In one fluid motion he yanked a Frag grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and hurled the grenade over the trench. "Fire in the hole!" All along the trench marines ducked behind the safety of the trench and seconds later they were showered in displaced mud and gore.
The battle was not going well at all. However many aliens the Marines killed there were always more to replace them, the warrior-Elites, vulture-like Jackals, and massive Hunters now accompanied the Grunts so that meant that the beleaguered defenders were at least putting up more of a fight than the alien invaders had assumed they would. To make matters worse a whole lot more enemy armor had made it planetside than the navy had lead Command to believe.
The section of trench that Pvt. Campbell's squad had been stationed; conveniently located near the middle of the trench, was being hit the hardest by the unrelenting alien hordes. Just as Campbell fired off a trio of BR rounds into an oncoming elite, taking its weakened shields offline and punching a dime-sized hole through his cranium. The arrival of upper-ranking Covenant made it all the harder for the besieged defenders to hold their positions. Seconds after the Elite fell to the ground a blob of plasma arced overhead and impacted a Scorpion tank; setting off its munitions and consequently tearing it apart from the inside out. In response, a second Scorpion; seeing the fate of its partner; fired its main cannon over the tide of alien bodies at an unseen target.

Campbell didn't have the time to notice the tank's retaliatory shot pass meters over his head; he was much too preoccupied with the two hulking Hunters that had somehow made their way into the trench. The Hunters were massive; it would almost be comical seeing such huge creatures slogging through the trench; their huge feet sinking into the loosely-packed dirt with every step, armor clipping the irregularities of the hastily dug trench if not for the fact that they were bashing anything and anyone who got in their way, which in the case of the tightly-packed trench, proved to be fatal to the hapless marines. A marine was killed instantly when he was crushed up against the wall of the trench by the Hunter's shield, probably breaking every bone in his body. Another marine had a tire-sized hole blasted in his chest from a close range fuel rod round. The hunters were mere meters away from Campbell when he heard someone screaming to hit the deck; a command that he had nearly hardwired into his brain through many hours of rigorous training that meant to get the hell out of the way fast.
He heard the rockets flash past him down the trench before impacting on the first Hunter who hardly had time to register that fact that its existence had finally come to an end. The second Hunter, seemingly enraged at the fate of its companion, issued a bestial roar and then broke into an enraged charge towards Pvt. Mellani who was fumbling with the rocket launcher in an attempt to reload before the beast had a chance to unleash its rage upon him. Campbell, who was still sprawled at the bottom of the trench, finally opened his eyes in genuine surprise at the fact that he was still alive, saw the second Hunter charging right towards him and immediately covered them again. "Crap" However, someone up above must have looked kindly upon Campbell that day for the Hunter's giant strides carried him right over Campbell's prone form and continued it's enraged charge towards the fumbling Pvt. Mellani.
Campbell instantly reached for his weapon but instantly knew that something was amiss when he picked it up. The weight is all wrong. He looked at his weapon and saw only a crushed piece of scrap metal that had once been his Battle rifle. Not good. Campbell spotted an Assault rifle lying in the dirt next to a dead marine whose neck was bent at an unnatural angle. Gotta give Mellani enough time to get that rocket loaded. Campbell ejected the half-empty clip and slammed home a fresh one before opening fire at the exposed back of the Hunter; he'd heard that a single M6 pistol round in the orange flesh of a Hunter's spine could kill it but unfortunately an Assault rifle packed far less punch than an pistol did and it was far less accurate even at a medium range. Apparently the pain from the few rounds that found their mark penetrated the creature's blood-fueled rage because the Hunter turned towards Campbell and started running towards him.
Hannah reached the edge of the forest. There was about a half-mile of splintered wood smattered throughout hundreds of scorched stumps. From her position she could see the marine's trench line along with the teeming mass that was the Covenant horde.
Hannah unslung her rifle and propped it on the scorched bark of a felled evergreen tree before utilizing the rifle's 10x magnified scope to zoom in on the battle. The middle of the trench was being hit extremely hard; a pair of Hunters had infiltrated the trench and caused sever damage to the marine line. She saw one Hunter go down with a rocket to the chest but the second one continued straight on down the trench with incredible speed for such a hulking monstrosity. Suddenly, a marine appeared from behind the Hunter with an assault rifle and began firing at it in full-auto; this seemed to piss the thing off even more because it reversed its direction, rather clumsily, and bounded down the trench towards the Marine.
What an idiot! Does he have a death wish or something? Better help the fool out. Hannah aimed towards the revealed orange flesh of the Hunter's neck and loosed a single shot, which penetrated the soft tissue and continued to ricochet off the inside of the Hunter's armor plates. It took several seconds for the Hunter to realize that he was dead, and he finally toppled over into the trench a mere meter or so away from the shocked marine. You're welcome.

Campbell had just prepared himself for death when the Hunter literally fell to his feet. Before he even had time to wonder who had killed his assailant he was forced to bring his assault rifle up with both hands to block an Elite's downward strike that was meant for his skull. The blow however, never came; Campbell heard the distinctive crack of a sniper rifle and suddenly the eight-foot tall alien fell to the trench floor in almost the same manner as Hunter had. Campbell looked at the alien's corpse and just shrugged; "Looks like it's my lucky day."
Campbell heard the sergeant screaming over the din and although he couldn't quite make out what he'd said the sudden movement of marines through the auxiliary trenches and the mass of aliens approaching gave him a good idea of what the officer's orders had been. Campbell dove ran into an auxiliary trench and fired his Assault Rifle over his shoulder at full-auto to dissuade any pursuers. Once he reached the secondary trench he saw a couple familiar faces amongst the few marines who had survived the retreat; Mellani had his Jackhammer trained down the length of the auxiliary trench ready for any reason to fire, Wilson was there too, he had ditched his Sniper for an M90 Tactical Shotgun which was ideal for close-quarters engagements such as this. Campbell couldn't recognize anyone else from his squad among the rest of the survivors.
The Sergeant began to speak; "We need to hold the auxiliary trenches at all costs. If they get past us then they gain entry into the base. We need to consolidate our forces for their next push, otherwise I doubt we'll hold."
Campbell doubted there were any more forces left to consolidate; there were still a few Marines trickling in through the auxiliary trenches but the majority of the surviving soldiers seemed to have already made it through already. Finally after a full minute of repelling overconfident Grunts a voice issued over the Marines' radios, probably the ground commander, and ordered the Marines to blow the auxiliary trenches with the Lotus anti-tank mines that had been planted there for that very reason.
A demolitions trooper acknowledged and unslung his pack; he pulled out a detonator, set it to the right frequency and paused for a second, his thumb hovering over the switch that would detonate the mines. "Fire in the Hole!"
Campbell covered his ears and turned away from the trench.

Hannah moved through the wasteland relatively quickly. Due to the relatively light load she had she found it remarkably easy to move through the carbonized trees and was only about three hundred meters away from the nearest portion of the Covenant horde. She contemplated setting up on a log and picking off as many of the alien bastards she could but a buzz of static changed her mind as she heard the familiar voice of the dispatch officer she had talked to earlier. "Pvt. Davis, do you copy? I repeat, Pvt. Davis, Do you copy?" Hannah nearly jumped into the open; she had almost forgotten about the radio strapped to her left shoulder.
"Yes, I copy, what is it?" Hannah subconsciously thought for a moment whether or not she should have added a sir in there but then decided that she probably wouldn't live long enough to get reprimanded anyway.
"Pvt. Davis, report to the command center immediately. That is a direct order from ground commander Trotsky. Do you copy."
Hannah bit her lower lip. Wow, Commander Trotsky wants me to go to the command center. I'm in some deep shit. " Copy, Davis out." Hannah made towards Omega Armory at a run.

0612 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Reach Northern Hemisphere, HighCom Armory Omega

Rowan entered Omega Armory's command center flanked by two Marines. A tall, graying, unshaven man motioned for him to join him by a large hologram of the battlefield outside that dominated the center of the room, bathing it in an unnatural blue-green glow. Rowan decided that this must be the commanding officer and extended his hand towards him; "Flight Commander Greg Rowan."
The Officer took Rowans hand in a warm but sturdy grip; " Ground Commander Andrei Trotsky, I'm assuming you need your bird repaired."
"Well that would be nice, she took quite a beating out there. Anything you could do to get me airborne would be greatly appreciated."
A small grin spread across Trotsky's features, "Don't worry, you'll be taken care of." From the look on the ground commander's face Rowan could tell that he was leaving something out. "However, I wanted to know if you were interested in doing us a favor."
Rowan glanced at the holo display, which had changed from an aerial view of the battle between the human defenders and attacking covenant to an image of a large bowl shaped valley. Rowan gave Trotsky an questioning stare "Sure, what did you have in mind?"
Trotsky's grin grew into a full-blown smile that seemed quite out of place given the present circumstances; "We have been ordered by Admiral Whitcomb over at Camp Hathcock to employ the Shivas."
Rowan's face was grim but he showed no sign of surprise, deep down he'd known all along that Reach would fall after the battle in space. He doubted that the planet had another hour left. Using the Shiva nuclear-tipped warheads was the last-ditch effort at protecting the orbital generators. Unfortunately the EMP blast created by the nukes detonation could very well fry the very generators they were meant to protect. "What's my target?"
Trotsky motioned towards a woman in combat gear that had been observing the conversation near the corner of the room. "This is Pvt. Hannah Davis. She's a reconnaissance operative who was operating in sector 2-A. She was the one who saw the main Covenant landing zone in the region, she'll be the one to brief you. Pvt. Davis, you're up."
Rowan watched as Pvt. Davis pointed at the hologram; "As Ground Commander Trotsky said, this is the main landing zone for the Covenant forces in the region. A Shiva should be able to destroy a significant portion of their forces and, unless they've set up more landing zones, give our boys outside a bit of a reprieve."
Trotsky broke into Davis's briefing abruptly; "There's also a chance, however slim, that the valley walls will shield the generators from the worst of the EMP blast which is our best bet at this point. However, time is short, every minute we delay, our position is weakened. Time is of the essence."
Rowan clapped his hands together and looked from Trotsky to the hologram and the image of the alien swarm that covered the valley floor. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Rowan was escorted back to the hangar by Trotsky and Davis as they hurriedly filled him in on as many aspects of his mission as humanly possible. The trio reached the hangar and came upon a row of Longsword interceptors.
Trotsky turned to Rowan and gestured toward the row of Longswords; "We don't have time to get your fighter up to optimal operating capacity, luckily we have some extras for you to use.
Rowan felt a pang of anger at the sight of the inert fighters and looked at Trotsky; "Permission to speak freely sir?"
Trotsky nodded, "Permission granted"
Rowan glared at Trotsky; "You had half a dozen fighters just sitting here while we were up there risking our assess for you? Why weren't they in the air hours ago?"
Trotsky just looked at Rowan and spoke in an unruffled voice. "We did send our fighters up, however, six of our pilots were caught en route to our base by a squadron of Seraph's on a strafing run. We didn't have the time to notify anyone by that time."
Rowan's features softened; "Right, how soon till I can get airborne?"
"You're Longsword is ready for launch. It's been equipped with our lightest payload as to minimize the intensity of the EMP blast"
"How big is this bomb?"
You'll be carrying a 20-kiloton bomb, our smallest one, which we hope will reduce the EMP while still maximizing damage. The Shiva, which is programmed to upon impact so you won't have any altitude restrictions, has an auto-targeting system on it's on board computer so you don't need to worry about aiming. We're requesting an escort for you now. ETA upon embarkation is six-point-three minutes. Good Luck"
Trotsky extended his arm out and met Rowan's in a firm grip. With that, Rowan headed towards his Longsword, reading the name of the fighter stenciled in red letters was the word martyriai."