Author's Note; Well, here goes Chapter Three. For this chapter, and probably the next two or three, we'll be following ODST Sergeant Jacob Rawlings, a man who'd previously fought on Reach. More backstory on him will be given later, but for now, here's what's going down on Coral. The first taste of Covenant action is here as well, and it gets pretty interesting. Hopefully my readers enjoy what came of this chapter, which was originally partially inspired by a story from a friend in Afghanistan. Read and Review! Thanks!

-Kannon.


1500 Hours. September 14th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Grid Location Gamma-6. "The Great Rocky Valley". Coral, Rio Sigma System.

ODST 53rd Battalion, 3rd Company. Fire Team Echo. Sergeant Jacob Rawlings.

Coughing, Rawlings shook his head violently, trying to shake off the initial distortion of the drop. Having pulled his drag-chute a few dozen meters past the recommended point, and firing his thrusters a bit later than that, Rawlings had taken quite the slam when his SOIEV finally hit the dirt. His vision still blurred the slightest bit, and the disorientation remaining in the faintest way, Rawlings managed to press the buttons for the explosive release locks on the SOIEV. As the red lights blinked to green, tiny plumes of smoke puffed inside the pod as the door blew off and the light flashed into the pod.

Stumbling out of the pod, Rawlings observed the TacMap inside his ODST Ballistic Armor's Helmet, and activated his VISR Heads-Up-Display. His company's XO, Second Lieutenant Maries, was a half-klick from his location. Over two thirds of his company were already approaching Maries, having not had to deal with the rough landing he did, and Rawlings clicked his COM channels on and accessed Third Company's personal channel.

"Echo Leader, checking in. How're we doing Third Company?" he called into the channel.

As soon as he spoke, a dozen voices answered at once in a mess of static wash. Lt. Maries quickly cut the chatter with a bark, replying, "We're in the clear, for now Sergeant. High tail your ass over here to the rendezvous point, your teams waitin'. Double time!"

"Yes, Sir!" Rawlings quickly replied, highlighting the green square on his TacMap.

Breaking into a light jog, Rawlings boots clambered across the rocky ground, one of the few places on Coral where it was in abundance. The "Great Rocky Valley", as it was coined, was the largest of three stretches of rocks, dirt, and small cliffsides on Coral. Rawlings wasn't complaining though, it beat being stuck in the jungles like he'd been on Jericho VII. COM channels had remained at a decent level, occasional barked orders between squads, until the voice of someone designated as Phoenix-Two broke in.

"Fifty-Third Battalion! This is Phoenix-Two of Second Company! I'm under heavy fire from-ahhh! Covenant forces have me pinned down! I could use a little help!"

The COMs became a quick mess again, all of the Battalion calling over the COMs, predominately Fire Team Phoenix, who from the sounds of it, were mobilizing towards their trapped teammate. While Maj. Harris ordered them to wait for backup, it was evident that the fire-team was moving towards their teammate, as the mans screams grew louder. A woman's voice broke in seconds later, a Charlie-Leader, reporting her and Fire Team Charlie had encountered a Grunt group of twelve, but that they'd been dealt with.

As Rawlings neared the rendezvous point, he was confused to the lack of troops. Only the two members of his team, Fire Team Echo, were there, as well as Lt. Maries, Fire Teams Alpha and Gamma, and a Navy Pilot. Tempted to scratch his head, but unable to due to the helmet present, Rawlings quickly took note of the crashed Pelican dropship against the cliff wall near the group, as well as the scattered supply crates. A half dozen Marine bodies laid piled in the corner; casualties of the crash. Among the cargo, an apparently unscathed M12 Warthog sat, with a Marine who his HUD identified as Private J. Bravo, sitting in the passenger seat, MA5B propped against the front frame.

"Sir!" he called out as he approached the group, "Orders?"

Lt. Maries nodded at him as Fire Teams Alpha and Gamma mobilized as a single unit, taking off towards the forests to the west of their position.

"Rawlings. I need you and Echo here for a small op. I just assigned Alpha and Gamma to recon, apparently Covie bastards set up shop near here, small base and everything. You, however, are going to be taking this baby right here," he said, gesturing to the 'Hog.

"You, Wheeler, and Davis here, are all going to recon elsewhere. Apparently, there's some kinda structure beneath this dirt and rock we've got here, and we need it checked out. About six klicks North of here, there's an entrance to some of the lower structures. We don't know if the Covenant are there yet, and you guys are gonna be our point squad. You'll take the Warthog, check it out, and move in, while the rest of Third Company clears out the area. We'll be rendezvousing with you in oh-four-hundred hours. If you run into too much trouble, give us a holler. Got it?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

Turning to his squad-mates, Fire Team Echo, he nodded quickly in his helmet to Lance Corporals Brandon Wheeler and Cameron Davis. The two returned the gesture as they approached the 'Hog. The sleeping marine, Pvt. Bravo, was shaken awake as Davis grabbed his collar and hoisted him up. The young Marine quickly saluted, before scuttling towards the crashed Pelican. Rawlings slipped into the driver's seat, and revved the engine of the M12, as Wheeler mounted the M41 "Vulcan" Light Anti-Aircraft Gun. Pressing the pedal down, the Warthog pulled to life, kicking up some dirt as it pulled away from the small area. Approaching the treeline, Rawlings opened the private channel between him and his team.

"How was the drop, boys?" he laughed, as the 'Hog bumped, going over a tree root.

"Ehh, nothing to interesting," Wheeler replied as he swiveled around on the M41. "The usual."

Davis said similar, with a quick, "Boring and rough," before nodding.

"Sir," Wheeler spoke up, "Got any clue what the structure is we're supposed to be seeing? Some kind of alien structure according to the guys from Delta."

"Nope, Maries didn't give us shit for intel. All I know is that if the Covenant are there, we're gonna have to ki-"

Rawlings was cut off as the whine of a Banshee flier screamed overhead. To be more accurate, a half-dozen Banshee fliers. The purple craft, angular with wings, flew mere meters over the treetops, releasing streams of plasma fire across the rough path the Warthog was on. A few stray bolts of plasma nailed the front of the Warthog, but not doing much damage, as the rest merely slapped up dirt.

"Wheeler! Fire the Vulcan!" Rawlings called over the screams, as the Banshees turned to make another pass.

The loud rattling of the chain-gun, as it spit out five-hundred-bullets per minute, helped to drown out the whine, as Wheeler rotated the large gun to face fliers coming at them from the rear. Davis popped up in his seat, BR55 Battle Rifle at the ready, squeezing off careful three-round bursts at the crafts as well. In the rear-view mirror, Rawlings watched one explode as the Warthog bounced through the dirt and grass, and he heard at least one more do the same. Another slammed into the trail behind them, having lost a wing, kicking up dirt before exploding in a shower of blue plasma and sparks.

"How're we doin' back there, Wheeler?" he called over all the noise.

"Not good, Sarge! Three left, and they're comin' for another pass! I think they're readying the Fuel Rods! Good news is we're three-hundred meters from our objective! I'll do what I can!"

Davis slapped a fresh clip in his BR55, and Rawlings slammed on the pedal even harder. The Warthog, running as fast as it would go, was bouncing through the trees along the rugged dirt path, bumping as it hit tree roots and other debris. Rawlings silently prayed to himself as he heard the remaining three Banshees opened up fire. Two of them used the standard plasma cannons, which strewed shots along the sides of the vehicle. Looking straight ahead, there was a mere twenty meters till the end of the forest, and a gray looming structure was visible a hundred meters beyond that. Rawlings leaned towards the middle of the 'Hog as a shot shattered the left mirror, just before hearing the Fuel Rod Cannon go off.

Time seemed to slow as Rawlings both heard and felt the impact of the Fuel Rod cannon. It hadn't directly hit the vehicle, or else they surely would've died, but it'd exploded right next to the right side. The vehicle was tossed airbourne, completely flipping over and he was flung from the vehicle. Disoriented, Rawlings heard a sickening smash as he slammed into a tree, heard another body fall near him, along with the hulking chassis of the Warthog, which he could hear roll into another tree.

Shaking his head, his vision white and fuzzy, he felt around, pulling himself to his feet, and grabbing the M7S attached to his right thigh. His Sniper Rifle lay a few feet away on the ground, snapped in half from the impact of hitting the ground underneath the Warthog. Observing the vehicle, while dashing towards it to use as cover, he noticed it was completely destroyed, the engine gone, and the right half of the vehicle blown to bits. Underneath it already was Davis, coughing and holding his left arm at an awkward angle.

"You alright?" he asked Davis as he slid under the vehicle, hearing the Banshees trail off into the distance. They wouldn't have much time, the Banshees were sure to report their position to other Covenant forces in the area.

"Yeah, just a little banged up Sarge'," he said, waving him off. His arm didn't look quite broken, but it was still pretty shooken up, and probably sprained. Taking note of this, Rawlings realized he hadn't seen Wheeler yet.

"Where's-" he began, Davis cutting him off with a quick point to their left.

There laid Wheeler, his helmet next to him, cracked and shattered. Blood pooled on the grass next to Wheeler, and three plasma burns of decent size permeated his chest plate. The helmet had a burn on it as well, but the real issue was Wheelers legs. His left leg was completely gone from the knee down, burned off by the Fuel Rod blast, and his right leg was at an awkward angle. Grabbing the somehow still intact MedKit off the ground, Rawlings dove over to his unconscious figure. Davis chinned him COM, calling over TeamCom.

"This is Echo-Two of Fire Team Echo, Third Company! We could use a little help! We've got one seriously wounded and our 'Hog is toast! Banshee patrol nailed us in the woods in Grid Gamma-Six, Cross Location Sigma-Two! Requesting assistance, over!"

The voice of Major Harris broke in over the COM rushes, and became clearer. "Echo-Two, this is Fifty-Third Actual, I read you loud and clear. Deploying a team of seven Marines we picked up, they're about five minutes out. They've got a M831 Troop-Transport Warthog with them. They'll pick up your one wounded, and remove him, while six of them move along with you towards your original objectives."

Before allowing them to reply, Harris cut in again. "I want to warn you, Echo, your objective is hot. I repeat, Covenant forces are present at the structure. A few detachments of Marines, along with everything remaining from Second Company is currently there, trying to clear them out. First Company and myself are currently moving into a small town about thirty-five clicks west of your position, called Opian. Contact me when you've accomplished your objective, over."

"Read you loud and clear, Fifty-Third Actual, Echo-Two out." Davis replied.

During the short conversation, Rawlings had wrapped a thick padding of gauze around the bleeding wounds, in an attempt to slow the bleeding, as well as injected biofoam into the wound. Hopefully, Wheeler would hold. He hadn't survived Reach just to die in a forest on Coral.

Standing, Rawlings picked up the MA5C Assault Rifle that Wheeler had carried, placing it on his back, and replacing the M7S on his thigh. Davis walked over to him, observing Wheeler, before the two men carefully moved the limp form under cover of the ruined vehicle. As the Troop-Transport neared, the driver honked twice, before skidding to a half about five meters away. Six Marines jogged over, and began lifting the limp form once more, placing it carefully in the back of the transport. A Field-Doctor, going by the name of Richards, instantly began busting out more complicated medical tools, before hollering to the driver to hurry up. The driver of the 'Hog nodded once to the ODSTs before reversing and pulling away as quickly as it came. Observing the new small squad he was left with, Rawlings noticed he was still the highest-rank, and therefore, in command.

"Alright, boys. You know the job. Lets get moving."

Breaking off at a light jog, the group of eight quickly moved out of the tree lines, and gunfire, along with plasma fire and small explosions, began to be heard in the distance. The ground picked up the pace, as Rawlings designated the new members of the group as Echo-Four through Echo-Ten. Bringing up small briefings on each, Rawlings quickly worked out a strategy.

"Alright. Echo-Four and Five, you two take point. Echo-Six, you hang towards the back, watch for vehicles," he said, nodding to the Marine hefting a M41 Rocket Launcher. "Echo Seven, you're our Sniper overwatch, Eight, you're his spotter. Take a spot on the ridge overlooking the structure and cover us. Nine and Ten, you two have the rear."

"Sir, yes, sir!" the Marines chanted in unison.

"Echo-Three," he said, turning to Davis, "I need you with me. We're following in these two," gesturing to the two men taking point, "and we're gonna push into the structure. Everyone else; once the Covenant in the area are clear, we're to push into the structure and hold it out from the inside."

Everyone seemed to agree to this as they moved into formation while they jogged. Nearing the site of the structure, Rawlings found it to be a slightly favorable situation. The structure was built into a cliff wall, at the bottom of a slope he was now at the top of. Down in the crest of the valley, Marines, and a few ODSTs traded fire with a decent sized contingent of Covenant inside and surrounding the structure. Three Ghosts zipped back and forth, firing plasma, as a M12G1 Gauss 'Hog blasted one to pieces. Three wrecked Warthogs were littered in the area, a group of ODSTs taking cover behind one, while a destroyed Phantom provided cover for a dozen Covenant troops.

"Lets do this, move!" Rawlings called to his squad, bringing the MA5C to bear. Firing below at a few exposed Grunts, Rawlings quickly mowed them down, watching his ammo counter drop from thirty-two to fourteen. Using the last fourteen bullets firing at an unshielded Jackal, Rawlings quickly downed the alien as the rest of his squad took out others. A rocket whooshed past him, as the Marine fired on, and destroyed in a shower of fireworks, one of the remaining Ghosts.

As Rawlings reached the two dozen soliders at the bottom of the hill, he quickly pulled a Marine aside behind a small rock formation. "Who's in charge here?" The Marine, looking at him, merely said, "You are now, Sarge," before turning back to the battlefield. Next to him, Rawlings noticed, was a body bearing the insignia of a Second Lieutenant, riddled with plasma burns, as well as a bloody Marine uniform.

Looking up over the top of the rocks, Rawlings was forced to duck again as plasma splashed over the rocks, chipping bits off. He rolled to the side, under the cover of the newly ruined Gauss 'Hog, next to Davis. Standing again, he let loose two-thirds of a clip at a mixed group of Jackals and Grunts that began to charge, one of them dropping to a sniper rifle shot from overhead. Just before he ducked back under cover, Rawlings watched as one of the more skilled warriors of the battlefield emerged from the structure, a Covenant Elite, clad in maroon Major armor.

Firing the two Needlers it was dual-weilding, the pink crystalline shards impacted a trio of Marines that were in the open, before they detonated, blowing the three bodies to bits. The Elite roared, its four vicious mandibles parting in what Rawlings took to be a smile, as it charged another group. Four Marines behind another 'Hog, who fired their MA5Bs and Battle Rifles at the beast, were quickly mowed down by the fury of Needles, with one being personally clubbed to death quickly by the beast.

A sharp report cracked through the air as a sniper round nailed the Elite in the shoulder. It's shields simmered and died, and between the fire of half the remaining troops, the beast quickly dropped. The Needlers fell from its hands as it screamed a final cry, and the troops turned their fire back to the Grunts, Jackals, and Minor Elite, which was wielding a Covenant Carbine. The blue armored Elite turned, as fire rained down, shimmering its shields, and retreated into the structure, returning half a second later with a Needler Rifle. The more accurate rifle fired a shot high on the cliff, and Rawlings watched painfully as the body of the spotter he'd assigned fell sickeningly to the rocks below.

Rawlings trained his Assault Rifle on the Elite, as he slapped in a fresh clip, before rolling out of cover, firing in the direction of the Elite. Plasma fire from the Grunts and a Jackal splashed next to him, as the bullets riddled the damaged Phantom, the Elite retreating behind it. As Rawlings rolled back, however, he realized a grave error on his part.

As the Elite came out of cover again, Rawlings noticed it lacked any weapons. Now, however, in the full light, Rawlings noticed the Elite's armor wasn't the Minor's blue; it was a darker-navy, almost black. Special Operations Elite. Before he could turn to warn the troops, he watched as the Elite laughed in its horrendous alien tongue, mandibles splayed in four directions as it roared. Reaching for its hips as bullets pinged uselessly off it's upgraded shields, the Elite withdrew two small objects, which it activated. Two, pure blue blades of lightning and plasma activated, and the Elite crossed them in front of him.

Then, it charged.