Forward Operating Base Verani, Utgard, Harvest, Epsilon Indi System
Rain pelted off the tent's fabric around her, the sound was rather soothing given the circumstances, it helped pass the time to listen to each drop thud into the cloth. Carefully Angela pulled the syringe from Vickers' arm, the mild sedative began to take effect not long after as his eyes fluttered shut and he drifted into a calm sleep. They were tired but too nervous to sleep, it didn't help most we're still struggling to come to terms with their situation. She'd tried her best to ease them into their current situation, but shock still lingered within them, so she'd given them a very soft sedative that would ease them into a temporary comfort while the situation sorted itself out. More than that it gave her time to think of a plan, an explanation, anything to give them something to grasp onto.
Until then…she ignored the thought as she covered Vickers in the UNSC issued poncho she'd "scavenged". Overwatch armor stood out like a sore thumb among the troops here, a mixture of white, grey, and gold did little to hide their otherness. From a more practical perspective it also meant the enemy would probably single them out first on the assumption that such an unusual armor held some significance. When the weather changed, most marines grumbled hut she rejoiced, it gave a valid excuse to "procure" a dozen ponchos which would hide their armor well enough. Getting a new uniform for Angela was easy enough, her armor was slim enough that any standard outfit could more or less slip over it, and the understaffed medical corps meant an abundance of clothes not being used. However, the same couldn't be done for Vickers, Kadia, and the rest of them, they're armor is too bulky, getting enough gear for several fireteams would raise some eyebrows, and in the end they'd have to be lucid enough to understand the need to switch.
Sighing at the whole ordeal, she slowly backed out of the tent, the flaps parting as she made her way past them. A hastily assembled sign stood outside of it, reading "INJURED, DO NOT DISTURB". Most would look at it and ignore it, the few who might probe or have the sense to known something was afoot were too busy or simply didn't care enough to investigate. She wasn't worried about leaving the tent, Kadia and Vickers had enough sense to understand her directives. They shared a specialized frequency they could use to get ahold of each other, shortwave radios encrypted to specific Overwatch channels, nothing serious but enough to get here attention.
Outside the once almost calm drumming of the rain became a heavy, angry barrage, her feet almost slipped out from under her several times as she ran to the main medical center in the FOB. Around her troops moved, officers barked orders, grunts hauled heavy cargo, and every few marines geared up for battle. Ducking under the awning of the temporary med bay, she rested against the metal walls with several other medics as she watched the world around her.
The pace around her picked up, not a full mobilization like she'd occasionally seen at Overwatch, but a smaller scale operation was taking place, troops that had rested and were itching for more were gearing up. Adrian along with the others had left some time ago, a scouting mission to see what laid ahead though if what she had heard was to be believed, that had been abandoned as one of the parties had run into an enemy encampment. All forces deployed had been rerouted to support with a small contingent at the base that would serve to further reinforce UNSC troops out in the field.
One thing confused her, turning to the nearest field surgeon, she asked, "If they're so sure it's only a small encampment, why aren't they mobilizing a larger force to deal with it?"
The man raised his eyebrow as he exhaled a wisp of smoke, a familiar cigarette dangling between his fingers. Almost identical to the kind Adrian smokes, she briefly wondered if it was a military issued standard or simply an immensely popular brand that persisted for decades. A second thought skimmed her mind though that was more out of reflex, the idea of a medic smoking seemed a foreign concept to her though she knew from her extensive talks and interviews with Adrian and Liam that it wasn't all that unusual. In fact it would only become more common as facing ones early mortality became an ever more common experience among humanity. Pushing those thoughts aside she focused on the original question that plagued her thoughts as the man answered though it wasn't as helpful as she'd hoped.
"Who knows, maybe to keep us in business?" He let out a dark chuckle before taking another puff, "In all honesty you're thinking the same thing I am. My only guess would be some of the higher ups in UNICOM are scared to commit, we got lucky with this latest battle, but we haven't had enough time to fully recover from the toll. The navy is still duking it out meaning supplies are still on a tight leash and I'd hazard to say they're afraid to lose the few resources we do have. Of course, you're probably thinking, 'Well they could ensure we don't lose any if we committed', which is true but few of our supplies our in top shape. Half the soldiers are wounded, tired, or starving, and most of our mechanized units are in desperate need of repair."
She understood even if she didn't entirely agree, "Weakened forces would almost definitely increase casualties without affecting the tide of the battle. Besides for them the war is probably more abstract, thinking in numbers and statistics instead of human lives." She said surprising even herself, seemed some fo Adrian's cynicism had rubbed off on her.
"In the end it's best not to worry about, focus on what you can do here because God knows we'll have another influx soon. Half of those poor kids won't be coming back at all, the lucky ones will come back in a bag, and the ultra-lucky? Well, who's to say they're lucky for seeing their friends mowed down in front of them."
She didn't have anything to say to that, instead she watched the soldiers' prep, so many of them young. Just out of school, hadn't even had their first kiss – it broke her heart to see. As pessimistic as the surgeon's words were, she knew they reflected the unfortunate reality, he wasn't gloomy for the sake of it, the war made him that way. Until the reality changed and more survived than died, he'd hold onto that mantra close to his heart. In spite of all that, she hoped and prayed that those kids would make it back, that Adrian would be fine, and soon this would all be a distant memory.
A corpse fell in front of his path, the marine's chest completely eviscerated by a needler's explosion, the last bits of air from her lungs coming out in a gurgle of blood as she briefly spasmed don the ground. He stepped over the body, careful not to let it affect his run as plasma sailed by only inches away, rain sizzled as it touched the bolt of pure energy. Falling to the ground, Adrian slid across the broken pavement to a small slab of concrete sticking out of the ground, a few feet wide and several inches thick it would shield him for now. A solider next to him scream as plasma struck his hand, the heat caused the weapon to melt in his palm, burning his hand from both ends. Before he could drop the gun or duck behind cover another bolt splattered across his neck, leaving a gaping chunk missing as he crumpled to the ground lifeless.
His breath was ragged, he been running nonstop for what felt like hours but in reality, was probably little more than thirty minutes. Leaning around his cover, he splattered a grunts head with a well-placed shot, he did the same a few more times. Thinning their immediate ranks before turning his attention to jackals and elites, the DMR kicked against his shoulder again and again until it clicked empty in his hands. Hiding back in cover, he replaced the magazine, his attention caught as the iconic snapping of a gauss cannon eared ever closer. Whipping around the corner, the trooper on the gun never let the weapon rest as it let out a constant barraged of accelerated rounds. The crack of the cannon brought a smile to every soldier's face as the warthog charged past it lit the darkening plaza and took out the increasingly frustrating shade turrets as they appeared.
Joy was short lived as a well-timed fuel rod shot struck the front end of the warthog, not only sending it tumbling end over end but into a flaming wreck that seemed to be a cruel metaphor for this whole skirmish.
"I want that fucker gone!" Someone behind him shouted, their orders were immediately followed by the thunk of a SPNKr and a screeching rocket that tore through the air. He wasn't sure if anyone had actually seen where the cannon shot had come from – but once the rocket hit it's intended target, collapsing a whole floor in one of the surrounding buildings – they didn't have any more issues with fuel rods.
Reinforcements had been a slow trickle, instead of acting a supplementary force to boost UNSC forces it was more of a temporary replacement. Soldiers were dying as fast as new ones were arriving, turning what was supposed to be a quick operation into a grueling expedition. Worsened by the fact that UNSC high command had a change of heart overruling even Delan's tenuous charge, a sadly unsurprising event throughout the history of military endeavor. One would think that the advent of artificial intelligence and the reduction of menial bureaucratic oversight would free up the messy meddling within any command structure, and to a point that was true. It also meant those better suited to politics than strategy had more time to meddle in the affairs of the poor souls on the ground. All of this long-winded rambling to state a very simple but impactful change, Meridian Plaza and Stroika Squad had no longer become an evacuation but a conquest.
They saw it as a critical junction in their offensive, a solid defensible position from which a new frontline could be established. Within that abstract thinking Adrian agreed, the plaza was a great chokepoint, easily defensible, and still within UNSC air territory to avoid being bombed to kingdom come. However, that's all theoretical, the reality was it was an often place to fight, regardless of what it could be it was a nightmare now. Of course, it was too late for a sudden change of heart, the plan had been committed, forces spent, and unless the battle turned to utter defeat and massacre, he didn't see them changing their minds anytime soon.
Now this is where the trickle of reinforcements becomes an issue, as the goal posts had shifted, so too had the purpose of reinforcements. Not too long after Adrian and his squad had arrived, so too had a handful of others including two troop transports. Perfect for rescue and evacuation, enough to ferry everyone out and leave the situation none the worse given the circumstances. By the time a plan had been set, the new orders came in and soon those transports became largely worthless save to act as a semi-permanent, glorified turret. Though useful for bringing the wounded back to FOB Verani in set intervals.
All recent developments out on the table, it becomes clear why the fighting had become such a stale affair. More troops didn't help because there was never enough to make a push, replacing dead soldiers just delayed a Covenant victory. Until there was a substantial force that could aid them, everyone in this plaza but be stuck in a meatgrinder. Considering the covvie forces hadn't overwhelmed in a grand display of force he assumed they faced similar issues, or maybe there was some secret plan to keep them stalled here. Whatever the reason he frankly didn't give a shit, he was just happy to be alive and fighting.
"Liam, how are we holding up?" Adrian popped up from behind cover, taking shots at a few elites before plasma fire forced him back behind cover. He was certain that a few bolts were only inches from his head.
"A bit shit, soldiers are falling faster than I can patch them up but there's a few other medics here. We're doing our best but we either need to get the fuck out of here or actually secure our position. The bloody rain isn't fucking helping either,"
A beam rifle shot pierced the concrete a foot in front of him, a second shot drew even closer, and it didn't take a genius to figure out the trend. Dashing out of cover, he headed straight for a ruined APC that was the closest piece of solid cover he had. Enemy weapons fire flew around him, a few needle rounds even deflecting off his plate armor disrupting his stride. His uneven steps sent his foot into a deceptively deep puddle causing him to fall face down with a splash as mud covered him.
Before he had a chance to recover, his body was momentarily weightless before he felt his world shifted as he hurled through the air, then landed with another undignified clunk of metal against stone. Groaning he rolled onto his back, seeing Aliza crouched behind the APC carcass, her armor now adorned with not only a plethora of new scorch marks, energy cuts, and a myriad of other blemishes, but practically dripping with neon blood. It was hard to even see the iconic spartan green under the splatter fest of blues, purples, and iridescent viscera. He swore there was a chunk of bone lodged into her knuckles but ignored it in favor of his own grumblings.
"I'm not a fan of being tossed like a rag doll."
"Then stop being so clumsy."
Touché, though he'd never admit it out loud, "Hmph, any good news you can toss our way then?"
"I've been keeping their reinforcements to a minimum, thinning any oncoming traffic and drawing fire. Though I'm running low on ammo, and they've started to wise up, I think if we're going to make any progress it has to be now."
"Take it up with command, they're the ones that got us in this shithole in the first place."
Their conversation was interspliced with weapons fire as a handful of UNSC marines pushed up to a new piece of cover beside them. Adrian and Aliza laid down covering fire as the squad moved up, when they'd settled Adrian noticed the corporal from earlier among them. Dropping a grunt that had tried to squeeze its way past their flank, she tapped the side of her helmet twice, signifying to establish a connection
Adrian repeated the message to Aliza before setting up communication, "Corporal."
"How's your suit integrity, are the seals holding?"
"Far as I know, why?"
"Couple boys from HAZOP brought some VX7 Nerve Gas, I know I know – its bad shit. But it's not like the covvies will take it easy on us."
Adrian ran a system diagnosis on his suit while he continued to fire at the incoming Covenant cannon fodder. "Systems are green, same with Spartan-054." He passed the information along to Liam as it came, "What's the plan then?"
"As we speak, HAZOP is jerry rigging those VX7 canisters to be fired from an XM510. Once a couple of those are outfitted, we're gonna push, laying down fire targeting the main building in front of us while HAZOP smokes the building out with the VX7. The tight interior corridors should make it a hell for anyone inside, if they're not dead then they'll wish they were. Waste as little time as possible before you along with the HAZOP boys and anyone else outfitted for chemical warfare advance into the building, clear it out, lock it down, and kill anything still breathing.
"It's bold." He muttered.
"Not like we have many other options."
Before Adrian could retort, Aliza who had been taking the plan in stride spoke up, "We'll get it done ma'am."
"Appreciated, gather what you can and who you can then we'll push up,"
Adrian spared a glance towards Aliza as Liam's IFF tag popped up on his radar, "Feel free to take point on this one."
She didn't respond, instead emptying her clip into an unseen foe as Liam slid right next to them, staying as low as possible. Blood caked his forearms, splatters like a modern art piece decorated his chest and helmet, Adrian never envied the work of corpsmen.
"War crimes and the covenant, almost as good as vegemite and toast." He cracked, emphasizing his Australian drawl.
In a way Adrian related, ODST's and impossible situations seemed like a natural fit, in spite of the horrors of war, the almost certain doom of humanity, there was something to be said for the adrenaline rush at taking down as many hinge heads as you could. If they're all gonna die eventually, might as well live life to the fullest while they have it.
...
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...
Var depressed the firing mechanism within the beam rifle, shrieking in joy as it sliced through a human's leg causing it to not only sever the limb but forcing the human to fall face first into the ground in agony. Its wails pleased the Kig-Yar immensely, its taloned hands jittering in excitement as it searched for new prey. His vantage point at the window was for the moment, euphoric to say the least with the plethora of prey waiting to be taken. Some of the others were not happy, the Sangheili seemed particularly annoyed at the lack of progress while the Unggoy were mostly pathetically fearful as usual. Especially as it was brought up that the Jiralhanae might step in to take a more aggressive stance, to Var though it was all the same, they weren't living for the moment. Before the Covenant the Kig-Yar were a clan-based species, they focused on their community and themselves, killing, eating, pirating, and mating, whatever they wanted at that moment. Most didn't care for the religious covenant, nor its promises of salvation, why they abided by it however was often the chances to satisfy their desires.
Hence why at this moment, the Kig-Yar were thriving, taking as many humans as possible was delicious. Var's long, slick tongue flopped outside of its jaws, almost salivating at the possibilities of half rotten flesh that awaited feasting after this battle was done. Another energy bolt let loose from his rifle, this time hitting a human's mid-point. The hairless bipedal stood still for a moment, in disbelief at its end before toppling backwards. Another heinous caw filled the air in the delight, off to the side one of the human's vehicles went up in smoky ball of fire. In his mind, Var snickered at the fool that caused such an explosion, the flesh would be too cooked, too crispy to be properly enjoyed at that point. Part of the joy of this work wasn't just the killing, though that was a strong selling point. No, it was also knowing that the work would be rewarded, whatever he killed he could feast on, and so picking a target doubled as picking a meal. A wonderful game in his mind, focusing on where best to shoot these pathetic creatures was a meticulous task and any good marksmen could leave the battle with some truly delectable racks of meat to feast on.
His thoughts momentarily distracted him, his latest shot going lower than he wanted as it cut across a human's stomach instead of its neck. The soldier's intestines spilled out in a messy heap onto the muddy earth, the rain causing much of the blood to run through the cracks in the stone. Var cursed himself, if he kept making foolish mistakes like that, he couldn't impress a Shipmistress or Arch Khordat with his skills and make his way up in the world.
Before he could chide himself further a series of odd-looking canister erupted from the battlefield. Shifting his aim from a potential target, he looked to the source of the oddities, shocked to see an unusual collection of soldiers. Some in black armor, the Sangheili were weary of them, he didn't know much but the bits he picked up was that they were tougher than the typical human. Next to them were several in gear he'd never seen before, similar to the ones in black but with dark orange stripes, a thicker under suit beneath the armor, and a strange apparatus upon their backs with reinforced tubes connected to the back of their helmets. The final human was the one that caught his attention, a towering figure with dark green armor, universally reviled among the covenant as the true filth of humanity. A demon by any stretch of the word, hated and feared in equal measure to the point that even a non-believer in the faith would convert at the sight of one.
Var's tongue ran along his fangs as the beam rifle barrel leveled itself upon the demon's head, if he could claim a prize such as this, the mistresses of the Kig-Yar would have no choice but to witness his greatness and grant him even a modicum of their immense power. Before he could fire however he heard an Unggoy's infernal wrenching from behind, where normally he would pass it off as typical cowardice, he noticed that it was not one singular voice but several. Craning his neck to see what was causing the commotion, his feathered frilling raised in terror as the canisters that he'd noticed and then promptly ignored were unleashing a gas throughout the building. The Unggoy with a full face covering for their methane tanks were fine though still screaming at the sight of their less protected brethren dying on the floor in clear agony.
The earlier confidence almost entirely eroded in a single second; he dropped his rifle without hesitation as he ran as far from the gas as possible. Though it soon occurred to him in his panicked frenzy that he wasn't actually going anywhere, his body was practically frozen in place. Any attempt at movement resulted in futility save for spasms within in his body that increased in intensity and pain. Each breath felt like board of needles raking through his lungs and out his throat, blood began to pool from his mouth as his legs crumpled under him like goo. Open wounds began to appear on his skin like a blistering rash from eating its way out from within. On the floor he briefly caught a glimpse out the window, his targets now gone from their original position. The possibility for a life changing hunt has inverted itself, it still upset the world as he saw but not as he wanted it, now his insides felt as if they were ripping their way out through his skin.
The only respite from his agony came in the form of noise, not the squealing of the dying but something new, unfamiliar. Footsteps reverberated through the floor, his instincts told him it was undoubtably human, the gait was unmistakable as was the weight behind each footfall. His suspicions were confirmed as the distinct sound of human weaponry echoed within the walls, likely finishing off the Unggoy lucky enough to not have breathed in the gas. What little feeling still existed in his body was lit aflame as something heavy landed on his shoulder, the few nerves that had survived this long were raw and sensitive, much like himself gasping to the final moments of existence. He was rolled over; his gaze came upon his end as an orange visor gazed back.
Demon, prey, death, feast, all ran through his mind as he stared the green giant, consciousness slowly fading. The universe taunting him in his last moments, what could – should have been his greatest accomplishment was his doom. Watching him die here was the final humiliation but soon the visor was replaced by the sole of its heavy boot, Var tried in vain to scream, to beg, to demand better, 'I'm Var Karing, you heretical filt-'
Aliza's boot crushed the jackal's skull with a hefty squash, alien blood erupting like a fountain from underneath her foot, Liam chuckled at the sight, "I think you got a little something on your shoe."
Adrian rolled his eyes at the quip as he scanned the room they'd just entered, thick hazy smoke filled the air, wafting from room to room, out of the open windows, and seeping through the cracks to the outside world. He put a bullet in every covenant he passed, whether they were still struggling or laying still. Alien viscera piled up on top of his mud caked boots as he went through half a clip making sure they stayed down.
Eyeing a sealed door on the opposite end of the room, now filled with Covenant bodies, he flicked two fingers forward towards it. A pair moved from the stairwell entrance, their heavy armor resounding through the cramped space as they walked. Their gear was a lighter shade of black than Adrian and Liam's, a series of orange bands wrapped around their biceps with a skull donning a fractured gasmask in between said bands. HAZOP armor was often reinforced with thicker materials at the cost of mobility, so they were rarely deployed in full force or in their standard equipment. When they did appear though, they were a force to fear, the armor itself seemingly a bastard amalgamation of ODST, Spartan, and early 21st century chemical warfare units.
A slim visor turned to face him from one of the HAZOP troops, "Just a quick question, do you guys think the VA will cover for nerve-gas related disability? Probably not…fuck."
Liam laughed from behind, the other HAZOP solider replied, "I think we're good, our buddies might not be so lucky."
As the three of them stacked up on the door, Adrian wondered aloud, "Are Spartans even covered for disability?"
Aliza shrugged, then responded, "Maybe that's while we're always listed as M.I.A regardless, so the UNSC doesn't have to pay out when we die."
Silence reigned before one of the HAZOP troops spoke up, "Damn that's like…fucked up."
Without missing a beat, Aliza became the point man, kicking open the flimsy doors with ease. Awaiting them was half a dozen grunts, their form of methane intake allowing them to survive despite the toxic environment. Adrian swore at their own stupidity, missing such a simple detail was reckless. Armed with plasma pistols and rifles, they immediately opened fire as soon as the humans were in view. Liam and Adrian hit the deck instantly, Aliza stood her ground, taking the brunt of the fire with her shields absorbing the plasma. The HAZOP were slower, clunkier, and while one was able to evade getting hit, the other took a shot dead center to bis chest plate.
Those unscathed each got off a shot, putting down one grunt each while the Spartan mowed down the final three in the time it took Adrian to even think about lining up a second shot. Laying a second more on the floor just to be safe, Liam then tapped his shoulder and moved his head towards the down HAZOP trooper. Scanning the room as Liam moved to check on the struggling solider, Adrian moved towards a sizeable hole in the nearest wall. Peeking out, he saw the main Covenant forces were unaware of what had transpired, still absorbed in their tedious battle against UNSC forces.
Passing a glance towards Aliza, he tilted his head, a silent question passed between them. She nodded in the affirmative, as the de facto leader of this excursion she planned and managed the various components with two other HAZOP fireteams securing the two floors below them. Her response confirmed that they had successfully completed their objective, the building was now in UNSC hands.
Liam reported, "He'll live, armor dissipated most of the shot, but he'll have a wicked sunburn for the next few weeks. The chest piece is totally wasted though, a pea shooter could probably break it in half."
"Not the first time I've been hit, just another scar to the collection." The soldier said as he slowly pushed himself up, grunting at the exertion. "What's the plan now?"
Aliza answered, "We keep on the offensive, find a defensible position and keep the fire on them. I've radioed the Corporal; she's going to start organizing for a push while we use our advantage to take their flank. If we have a chance of success, this is the moment."
Ammo was passed around, supplies were piled up, and a pair of HAZOP troops from the first floor proudly bragged about the SPNKr they managed to carry with them. When Adrian took position, laying on his stomach and poking his DMR barrel through a skull-sized hole where the wall met the floor, a Specter revved onto the battlefield. The light plasma mortar combined with its high maneuverability made it a nightmare for infantry, there was little they could do as it rained hellfire upon their entrenched position.
Its superiority didn't last long as the aforementioned HAZOP soldiers fired the SPNKr with glee, the rocket shrieking across enemy lines connected with the Covenant vehicle in a spectacular show of raw energy. It's flaming carcass shocked the enemy force with the arrogant elite leaders swiveling their heads in disbelief as they tried to pinpoint the source. Many of them never got the chance as all the human forces within the building opened fire following the grand display of force with a focus on the Sangheili Majors. Shields fell faster than they anticipated, their bodies hit the ground in a matter of seconds after the first bullets made contact with their bodies.
Adrian took full advantage of the initial confusion, focusing on what he saw as both the most dangerous and most elusive targets. Ranking elites, jackal sharpshooters, grunt artillery, anything that he might not have a chance at again but would do irreparable damage if left unchecked. With each body that he dropped, the pile of casings and empty magazines grew like a dragon that horded treasure.
Radio chatter filled his helmet, those on the ground were making progress, slow and grueling but progress, nonetheless. If the intensity kept on as it was going, soon the city square would be covered not with stone but with bodies. There were so many corpses that the rain often had nowhere to drain too, causing a flood of blood, gore, and water to rush throughout the plaza and coalesce in craters and ditches. When a comment came over the radio, describing the situation more akin to fighting in a bog of corpses than an urban city center, he couldn't help but agree. The only positive was the formation of natural cover from the piles of bodies racking up.
The plaza was rather desolate, originally meant to stand as an open space of peace in the dense city. Now such things were often seen as a nightmare by troops, to enter a position with little cover but plenty of places for the enemy to hide was a nightmare. The purest creations of humanity had been bastardized by the war; nothing could exist as it once was. At some point only a decade ago, children ran through the square with bright smiles and cheerful laughter, hands gripping onto balloons as they relished in the moment, unaware of the nightmare that awaited them. Birds sang in the trees that filled the area, vendors cheekily harked their wares to the unsuspecting, couples sat by the fountains utterly infatuated with each other, their hands clasped together as they stared longingly into each other's eyes. Words of love and support floated through the air with signs of affection passing from lip to lip.
That was gone.
Those same couples, if they were still alive let alone still together, were now buckled down behind a pile of burnt bodies piled several feet high. Staring into the eyes of someone they once called a friend but now a shield. Flinching as the person next to them ceases to exist, now a thick mist of blood and bodily chunks from the needler rounds that piled themselves into their body. Those same people stared at what remained of their neighbor, now not even enough for them to be identified with. Only later will the horror strike them as the realization settles in that the poor solider will never get a casket home, the family will never see their child one last time instead greeted with an empty box that their told stands for everything their child sacrificed as opposed to a reminder of how they were left to rot. One among millions.
Just inside Adrian peripheral as he pulled back from the scope of his DMR, he caught a glimpse of UNSC marines pushing forwards, slogging through the bodies with high steps like it was a swamp. Despite the casualties the plan was working, the Covenant forces were being pushed back. Placing a new magazine in his rifle, he turned his focus towards the covvie front lines, to try and thin the pressure for the advancing troops. A barrage of plasma pelted his position, most hit the exterior wall around his opening, but a few came too close for comfort. One bolt missed only when Adrian rolled out of the way, a tail of plasma still nicked his forearm as it passed causing him to swear as poured out the content of his canteen on the smoldering metal. It gave a nasty sizzle with heavy steam rising into the air, but it did enough to stop it from feeling like a red-hot poker was going into his veins.
Taking the moment of reprieve, he checked his ammo reserves which were less than he'd hoped. A few short breaths later and he was about to roll back into position but a heavy rumbling shook building. Stopping where he was, he glanced around for any indication of the source but found nothing. He wasn't alone; however, Liam and Aliza were frozen on the spot. Any questions between them were cut short as one of the HAZOP troops with them muttered under their breath.
Flicking his gaze towards them, Adrian shouted, "You see so-"
Pure energy weaponized into its most visceral form, engulfed the solider in an incendiary flash of luminous green. A brief scream could be heard but was just as quickly snuffed, when the beam disappeared all that remained was a brutally emancipated corpse, charred down to the done with only a few chunks of muscle and armor remaining. Their body only vaguely held together but singed sinew and smoldering armor plating that had fused itself to the body.
Any UNSC solider, no matter how green, knew what caused such devastation so effortlessly. A nightmare incarnate.
"HUNTER!" The remaining HAZOP screamed as he ducked behind cover.
The building shook again, this time parts of the wall started to collapse along with the roof. Scrambling to his feet, Adrian ran back towards where they'd originally entered. Aliza bounded past him in only a few steps, peeking her head out before snapping it back in.
"There's two of them."
"No shit, bonded forever and always, there's two." Liam snapped.
"Two pairs."
Liam stared through his polarized visor, nothing left his mouth for a while, "I know we're suicidal but at this point it's just giving the Covenant free reign to fuck our corpses."
Adrian had to agree, from his vantage point he could see through an open window, the advancing marines were stopped dead in their tracks. Literally. Almost the entire frontline was dead, the hunter assault cannons shredding through the people with disgusting ease. The rumbling of Phantom's slowly started to fill the air, their own plasma cannons lighting up the field as two dozen new Covenant troopers were deployed onto the battlefield. Discussion wasn't need as an emergency declaration was placed over UNSC comms ordering a full withdrawal of UNSC forces from the area.
Behind them, the room they had just occupied began to crumble as the Covenant bombardment shifted its focus to their structure. The pace picked up quickly with the entire building starting to collapse the nearer it got.
"Book it marines, we are leaving." Aliza barked at them, not that they need any motivation to haul ass. Making their way down the stairwell, they ran into the other HAZOP fireteams, a few of the soldiers being carried out with blood pooling and plasma burns scarring.
"Where the fuck is our air superiority? I thought we owned the skies in this sector?" HAZOP questioned to anyone as they reached the exit. Running outside they saw all UNSC forces were in full retreat, overhead a Longsword spun out of control as one of its wings completely snapped off. A trio of Banshee's tailed it, letting loose the occasional burst of fire before pulling off to find new prey. The Longsword crashed aways off though the resulting explosion was still visible and easily felt from where they were.
"Where the hell did this come from?" Adrian muttered to himself.
Pushing it out of his mind for now, he followed the others back towards the initial launch point for the attack. The busted Scorpion tank was still there but long sense abandoned, its barrel was warped from constant plasma attack and the cockpit was blasted open, scorch marks lined the vehicle.
An APC waited with open doors, Liam sent the wounded HAZOP troops in first, then the rest of the fireteams until it was filled. Glancing behind, Adrian could see the Hunters were taking point, moving closer despite the constant suppression from remaining UNSC forces. Aliza didn't wait for more support or to clash with the enemy, instead she gripped the edge of an overturned troop transport Warthog and flipped it over with one hand. The vehicle was a little worse for ware for still functional. Calling for the handful of remaining troops, she climbed into the driver's seat while Liam and Adrian crouched where they were, providing what little covering fire they could. Weapon fire splashed around them, they slowly backed up towards the warthog watching in vain as the last two UNSC troopers were gunned down trying to make it.
Liam went down with a shout, a plasma bolt hitting the inner part of his thigh where there was little plating. He kept firing even as he was on his back shouting obscenities only an Australian could come up with. Holstering his rifle, Adrian looped his hands under Liam's armpits and hefted him onto the warthog where the other troops pulled him aboard.
Adrian quickly jumped up onto the back of the transport, before he could move over to Liam, he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. A needle round slammed into him right under his collarbone, protruding from his back, it sent him tumbling backwards into the marines. He grit his teeth as he watched the Covenant cheer in victory as they left, the hard fought battle had ultimately been for naught though the recent tragedy would only be compounded as a new communiqué crackled in through his helmet.
"What the hell? Something's breaking through the clouds."
Adrian tore his gaze from the battle-site, raising it up he saw what had garnered interest. Something was tearing through the thunderclouds, even though the heavy rain it was visible.
"No fucking…it's the Defiant Expectations. That was one of the heavy cruisers keeping the covvie occupied above Utgard."
Through the cloud cover its sharply angular nose became apparent, flames roared over its entire body as more it became visible. Practically shorn in half, it was split at the midpoint with the resulting molten metal from Covenant artillery still red hot. Like a fallen angel it caught the attention of every marine in the city, once a beacon of resilience to those within the city now seemed a doomed forecast of the inevitable.
In-between the frenzied chatter, a broken message could be vaguely heard as the ship disappeared behind the skyline, "-tain Miura of the UNS…iant Exp…tions…God have mercy on us all." A fiery explosion capstoned the informal obituary, bringing a haunting silence to the marines. Adrian stared on impassively, its hellish hue reflecting off his visor, splattered with blood, caked with mud, drenched in rain, and now basked in a baptism of fire.
A/N: Not much to add here other than thanks for the continued support despite the long period of time this went without an update! This was a much more action-packed chapter, hopefully it balances out for the the last chapter which was much slower.
There is one big thing to mention however and that is this story has gotten its first piece of fanart! It's a wonderful piece and I'll include a link down below, with some spaces between to avoid actually creating a link. Fanfiction is a very picky website and doesn't allow any actual hyperlinks to avoid spam, so take out the spaces and it will link to an Imgur posting of the image! Otherwise, you can also head to my profile and click on the relevant link or go to Imgur and search for BoneDaddyAinz for my profile.
imgur . c o m (slash) gallery / Ee3Vi7q
If you like it, the artist goes by Scaryatiz on Twitter and Scaryartiz on Instagram, both of which showcase a myriad of other drawing styles and images so please show them some support for the fantastic image! The artist mentioned that it was inspired by the general tone and atmosphere of the last few chapters rather than being taken from any specific scene.
As always everyone, have a wonderful day and thank you for the continued support.