A/N: It's been a while since I've picked this up, but I'll try to make this more of a regular thing.

South-east Able, Mortum,
New Acre,
September 14th 2541,
1735 Standard UNSC Time,

"Move up!" Sergeant Fukhikoto barked over the James' head, catching the attention of several Grunts that were wandering the streets or carrying machine parts while being ordered by Elites.

The Grunts were quickly dispatched by the marines around the sergeant, though the Elite was more nimble and dodged most of the bullets before hideing behind a pillar that supported the repair shop they were attempting to raid.

"I'll draw his fire!" A marine shouted, advancing to a car that had crashed into a truck. The marine began to pepper the Elite's position with fire from his Battle Rifle through the broken windows of the car.

The Elite, in return, made several careless shots from the hip with his Plasma Rifle. This gave the sergeant the chance to sneak around the Elite and open up on him with his SMG. The Elite wailed in pain as it went down after having a third of the weapon's magazine embedded into its legs. The sergeant moved to finish him off with his combat knife, when a loud buzzing could be heard from inside the repair shop.

Out of the front door and garage doors, Drones began to fly about, firing on the marines with their Plasma Pistols and Needlers as they did. James quickly took cover behind a raised flowerbed that was supported on all sides by concrete, while some of the other marines weren't as lucky.

He began firing on the Drones that were still in flight, leaving the ones that decided to land on the sides of the buildings for the other marines. He rapidly fired on three different Drones, downing all of them, before he ducked behind his cover. While he was reloading his rifle, a Drone landed right on his cover and began trying to stick its thin, slimy arms under his helmet.

He had to grapple with the Drone while reaching for his pistol. He watched in heightened anxiety as the Drone brought its pistol right to his head before pulling its arm back while charging it up, ready to slam the ball of heated plasma into the side of his helmet. He finally found the handle of his Magnum and put it right under the Drone's chin, where he fired off two rounds before ducking under the insect's reflexive swing.

James needed a moment to catch his breath as his vision became clearer from the rush he got by that close brush with death. After two seconds, he sprung back over the cover, weapon drawn only to find that the shooting had stopped.

"Fisher, you still there?" the sergeant yelled. James looked around, trying to locate the voice when he saw the sergeant dragging the corpse of a marine behind a burnt-out bus.

"Yeah. What's next?" he asked, reloading his rifle.

"The Elite is still kicking. I'll move to finish it off, you cover me."

"Copy that. On three." James readied himself into a stance that would allow him to pounce over the cover and break into a sprint.

"Three!" James vaulted over the cover and began searching for a target. A target made itself apparent as a Drone began firing on him from the side of a building. James returned fire and watched as his bullets sprayed its green blood all over the wall.

A beam of heated energy streaked through the air and struck the pavement inches from the sergeant. James quickly traced the shot to a Jackal several metres away, concealed behind the third-story window of a building.

James saw several other Jackals open fire next to the sniper on several other positions, including his. Several other members of the squad began firing on the Jackals from their positions, though only the snipers had any luck at killing them.

When the shooting from both sides died down, a voice broke the crisp atmosphere. "Squad, regroup!" Turning his attention back to the sergeant's position, he slowly and carefully moved backwards to the growing group of marines, wary of stragglers that might be lurking around any corners.

Eventually, all the remaining marines gathered by the front entrance to the garage, where Sergeant Fukhikoto was wiping purple blood off his combat knife. Next to him lay two dead Elites, propped up against either wall.

"The bastard was hiding in the building." He explained to anyone that might have been curious where the second Elite came from. "Jumped out when I was about to finish off his ex."

Panting heavily from the exertion, one of the marine's spoke up. "What now, Sarge?"

With the sound of cannon fire in the distance, the sergeant responded. "Now we head in there and see if there are any working Hogs that we can use to get to the closest signal jammer." With that, several marines marched into the garage, out of Fisher's sight. "Private Song, any progress on re-establishing communications?" he asked while one of the privates began to set up a signal booster.

"Not yet, sir. Though, with the way the Covenant signal jammers work, I can pin-point roughly where the closest jammer is set up."

"Keep trying." Fukhikoto ordered as he moved around to join the other marines trying to start up the M12 Force Application Vehicle. "What've you got so far?" he shouted.

"Four of these things seem to be in working condition, sir. None of them have any weapons on them, though." One of the soldiers responded.

"Damn civilian vehicles." The sergeant muttered under his breath before turning to the ODST. "Fisher, I want you to go back out there and see if there are any Warthogs with working mounted-turrets. If you find one, radio back on the local channel and I'll send someone to help you get it removed."

"Sir." James responded before taking off into the city, which now seemed to glow an ominous amber-purple because of the setting sun and the lights from Covenant cruisers overhead.

Fisher jogged down the streets under the cover of the shadow of an overhanging skyscraper, keeping his eyes open for any vehicle that didn't look like a pile of molten metal. He barely made it four blocks before he heard an ominous hum that he had heard many times before. Ducking into an alley and hiding behind a garbage bin, Fisher tried to control his breathing while peering around the rectangular metal bin, spotting what had made the humming noise; a Type-26 Assault Wraith.

The heavily-armoured Covenant tank glided down the street, seeming to be on a patrol. If he was careful, the ODST could have slipped out of the alleyway and continued on his search without fear of being spotted by the deadly vehicle.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

At the opposite end of the alley, an Elite spotted Fisher while he was leaning over the garbage bin and let out an alien war cry before lobbing a grenade his way.

With the narrow alley providing him no other way to avoid the plasma grenade, James did the only thing he could and vaulted over the garbage bin and into the streets with the Wraith. Just as he had anticipated, the sound of the explosion caught the attention of the Wraith as it swivelled around and began firing bolts of blue plasma out of its twin repeating cannons.

Fisher's only choice was to sprint as fast as he could down the street and the bend to hopefully find somewhere to hide from the monstrosity. Though, knowing the kind of firepower the tank had on it, there wouldn't be many places he could hide.

Priming a frag grenade, Fisher tossed it over his shoulder as soon as he managed to turn around the corner, catching the Wraith tank with the explosion just as it passed around the building. The small explosion did nothing to hinder the massive alien weapon as it fired its plasma mortar and destroyed a section of the building ahead, causing debris to rain down in front of Fisher as he ran.

Without so much as a rocket launcher, there was nothing that the ODST could do that would stop the Wraith completely. His adrenaline level was through the roof as he ran for his life, worrying that the sounds of combat might draw more Covenant soldiers or vehicles to the scene.

Instead, the sounds of fighting drew help.

Seemingly from nowhere, a single rocket crossed the street and struck the Wraith in the side, damaging the hull quite badly and drawing its attention away from James. As the large tank was turning in its spot, three Warthogs drove by while the occupants fired at it with whatever weaponry they had.

One of the Warthog's stopped at Fisher's side as its driver, Sergeant Fukhikoto, waved for Fisher to get into the car while honking the vehicle's horn.

The shock trooper complied without question, hopping onto the empty back of the car just before it sped off down the road.

"Where did you find rocket launchers?" he asked the sergeant as he found his footing on the unstable floor.

"A rocket launcher." The sergeant corrected. "And it only had one shot. When we heard the Wraith, I figured it was now or never." He explained as a pair of Covenant Type-32 Ghost joined the Wraith in its pursuit of the Human vehicles. "Dammit, ok. Team One, split off and draw the Wraith with you. We'll reconvene by the second jammer – you boys just do whatever it takes to bring it down or get away from it." Fukhikoto shouted into the local communications link.

One of the Warthogs honked its horn in acknowledgement before taking off down a different street, taking an overpass that crossed a small river that ran through the metropolitan area.

"Warthog Two, try to break away and draw one of the Ghosts with you. If you can't make a break for the first jammer and we'll meet up with you. If we're not there by 2100 hours, continue the mission without us." The second Warthog honked its horn in acknowledgement before taking off at a three-way intersect, drawing one Ghost away with it.

"Hey," Fisher called out. "I thought there were four working Warthogs."

"There are, one stayed behind for the man with the empty rocket launcher." Fukhikoto explained just as the Ghost started firing rounds of plasma at them. "Dammit! Looks like they're done playing tag."

Standing up to full height, Fisher holstered his rifle before bending his knees slightly and looking for an opening. "I can take care of the Ghost."

"Whaddaya mean? Wait…" the Ghost slowed down ever so slightly to allow for it to fire another salvo at the Warthog, melting some of the metal plating. "Don't do it, Marine!"

Fisher was already in the air as the sergeant shouted the order, arms extended out on either side to grab the wings of the Ghost as he slammed into the purple alien metal.

"Hi!" Fisher grunted to the startled Elite as he reached for his pistol, putting the weapon to the alien's head before unloading three shots. It's full body shielding allowed it to take the first two shots, but at the cost of disorientation and making it sway to the side to avoid the third shot. In the process of doing so, the Elite accidentally pulled on the controls of the speeder and caused it to suddenly turn and almost shake Fisher off.

Instead – unprepared for the sudden movement, the Elite was thrown out of his seat and rolled across the ground as the Ghost slowed to a halt before landing softly.

James felt very close to losing his stomach contents right there on the side of the road from all the sudden movements, and – against his better judgement – took off his helmet to take in some fresh air. After a second of his deep breathing exercises, his ears pricked up at the sound of angry-sounding alien-talk.

Looking to his right, the disoriented Elite had withdrawn its Energy Sword and was now making its way slowly towards Fisher.

The ODST's first instinct was to reach for his pistol, but found that it had flown from his grip during the ride. His hands next flew for the assault rifle strapped to his back and pulled it forward. This seemed to cause the Elite to kick into high-gear as it sprinted towards Fisher, plasma blade dragging across the ground.

The split-face alien never reached Fisher, as a Warthog suddenly rammed into its side and sent its limp body flying into the wall of a building, splattering purple alien blood all over the wall.

Following sheer instinct, James took aim at the Warthog for a moment, assessing it as the greater threat before realising it was a friendly. Sergeant Fukhikoto jumped out of the Warthog a second later as the Elite's body slid to the ground. "You ok there, Fisher?"

"Yeah, thanks for the save, sergeant." Fisher replied while holstering his sidearm and slipping his back on helmet.

"That was very reckless of you – even for an ODST, but I can't argue with the results." The sergeant said while he walked over to the splattered corpse of the Elite. Peeling the body off the side of the wall, he picked up the hilt of the Elite's Energy Sword and activated it. "I've always wanted one of these." Fukhikoto thought out loud as he admired the weapon before deactivating the plasma blades and attaching the weapon to his belt as he walked back over to the Warthog.

Hopping in to the driver's seat, sergeant Fukhikoto looked at Fisher as the ODST seemed to be walking in circles around the Ghost. "Fisher, you coming or what?"

"This Ghost is still in pretty good shape, and I've driven one before." He explained as he climbed into the seat. 'Let's see if I still remember how to start this thing…' he thought to himself while pulling back on the handles, causing the Ghost to light up and start hovering.

"Nice job marine, plan's still the same," he shouted as he pulled out of the sidewalk and back onto the main road. "We're going to take down that signal jammer – with or without the rest of the team."

"Do you think the three of us will be able to pull it off, Sarge?" the marine in the passenger seat next to Fukhikoto asked.

"Only one way to find out." Fukhikoto said while throttling the gas pedal, causing the Warthog to speed down the street littered with debris.

Behind it, Fisher struggled to keep up with the unfamiliar controls of the alien craft, but he managed as well as any marine would.