Stalemate. If it was an ambush meant to kill the ISA off with the element of surprise then the enemy had already failed. Each man held his respective cover, watched his sector and tried to cover two targets at once. Nobody wanted to be the first to fire but more importantly nobody wanted to be the first to get hit. Gunnery Sergeant Filmore cracked first under the pressure, popped up from behind the wall around the destroyed statue and took aim at a Helghast on the second floor of the north building.

"Contact front!" he yelled and let off a three-round burst of fire from his M82. The first bullet struck the wall that obscured the grunt from the waist down and sent out a puff of dust. The second impacted on the soldier's chest, punched through the armour, knocked him off balance and a squirt of blood ran down his stomach. The third, fatal round went through the neck and travelled diagonally upward into the lower brain. Gunny had opened the floodgates and ducked back down behind the wall in a cloud of dust as the other Helghast around the casualty let rip on his position. "You like that!" Gunny was hysterical, "You red-eyed bastards!"

The enemy let their anger get the better of them as their comrade bled out over the concrete floor and they emptied full magazines at Gunny. Rounds fell short, flew wide or just burrowed impotently into the wall. The Helghast to the west fired indiscriminately at first squad who were hunkered down in the square. "Second squad!" a shout from Vanderburg, "Draw fire from the west! Give them less to worry about! Walker! Doc! Upper floor! Vic with me on the lower!" The marines replied with staggered but sustained fire on targets to the left and soon the Helghast attention to turned to their position. Rounds skipped past their ears or over their heads and many more disappeared into clouds of concrete dust.

Two Helghast focused their fire on Walker, who fell to his rear, back to the wall and chunks of concrete bounced off his helmet. After checking his weapon, he looked over at the rest of the squad. Doc and Walker were on one knee, eyes down their rifles as they jolted in their hands. Vanderburg was on his feet and enjoyed the perks of presenting the hardest target for the enemy to the west. The marines all had their movements and weapon procedures drilled into them from day one, so that when thing turned bad they would carry them out without thinking. But to Walker, the sergeant was a marvel to watch. Walker remembered his gun had jammed on him during the invasion, the situation around him turning to Hell and all he could do was look down uselessly at the round stuck in the chamber. He went through the process of removing it as methodically as he had done the first time he was taught in basic, even nodded to himself as he reached a logical checkpoint. So he watch slack-jawed as Vanderburg's M82 jammed on him.

In one fluid sequence, the sergeant lowered his rifle, removed the magazine and held it in his other hand holding the rifle's grip. The now free hand cocked the weapon, caught the round as it was ejected, replaced the magazine and let the bolt chamber another round. He pushed the weapon tight into his shoulder, fired, adjusted his aim and fired again. Walker heard a horrific, bloody gargle and the bullets stopped pumping into the wall he hid behind. "You're welcome," the sergeant hollered, "Just start shooting again, eh?" Spurred on, Walker poked his head back to find two less targets on the upper western floor and set about suppressing the remaining enemy.

There came an almighty, hoarse scream from Gunny down below them. "Jones! Smythe! Haughton! On my go!" a pause from his voice but the orchestra of gunfire continued, "Suppressing!"

"Suppressing fire!" echoed Vanderburg and there was an explosion of marine fire on the Helghast positions. Three marines of first squad heaved themselves over the intact southern section of the wall and sprinted into the building below second squad.

"LT! In position!" their yells echoed up to Walker's ears. The lieutenant and Gunny were now alone in the central square, pinned down but they returned fire wherever possible. The Helghast responded to this partial ISA retreat and the soldiers from the lower, northern floor headed east, stopping to trade fire with the marines to their south. Vanderburg spotted this movement and turned his rifle to the space between the north and east buildings and anticipated their sprint across. The four remaining Helghast dashed across the rubble one at a time and the sergeant let off round after single round at them. He caught the first in the shoulder, who spun violently and collapsed. The second made it unscathed to the wall, peeked round the corner and provided cover for the two others left to run. This would have been fine if the third Helghast hadn't tripped over his injured squad mate and got a round in his skull for the trouble. Covering fire forced Vanderburg to duck down as the fourth enemy made it across the gap to the other building.

"Two-one, be advised that two Higs just made it into the structure at your three," Vanderburg squawked over the net, "They are boxing you in sir, make your move."

"Roger that," O'Brien put his hand on Gunny's shoulder who stopped firing to listen, "We've got to move, Gunny."

"Marines!" Gunny looked south, "Suppressing fire!" A volley of bullets riddled Helghast positions and the few that remained able to return fire were unable to land a hit on either the lieutenant or his sergeant as they broke cover to the wall. Even when O'Brien struggled as he climbed over and Gunny had to give him a little extra encouragement with both hands. They landed with a painful bump and heard the thuds of bullets in the concrete behind. The lieutenant hesitated, but Gunny whacked his hand a few times on O'Brien's helmet and they bolted to the relative safety of the south building.

"Two-two, this is two... this is two-one," O'Brien was breathless, but an unmistakable excitement was in his voice, "Get second squad down here, let's discuss our next move."

They could hear Gunny down below, "I just love this fucking shit! Balls to the fucking wall!" Doc rolled his eyes at Walker and motioned downstairs with a smile.

"Walker!" Vanderburg paused, bullets zipped and pinged, "Go!"

"Moving!" When Walker made it to the slope the sergeant continued.

"Doc! Go!"

"Moving!"

"Vic! Go!"

"Moving!" Vanderburg peered over the wall, took one last single shot at a Helghast in the building across the square, missed and shrugged. He double-timed it to the collapsed floor and slid down using one hand for balance. On the floor below he found the lieutenant, Gunny and first squad's sergeant engaged in discussion whilst the other five marines held watch on the windows and other gaps in the building's cover. Sporadic gunfire punctuated and interrupted conversation, dust hung in the air and caught the streams of sunlight through every hole. Gunny grinned and rubbed his cold hands, he itched for more combat. O'Brien kept his head and turned to Vanderburg.

"Sergeant, give me your take on this."

"I think the Higs aren't even trying sir. No grenades? No RPGs?" he scratched at his beard, "And there's the whole other company hanging. It bloody stinks."

Sergeant Haughton had been a lance corporal when he left Vekta and earned his stripes during the invasion. He had the men's respect for being from their ranks and never forgot what it was like being a baseline grunt. He gave his take, "They want us to run sir, follow us back to base for the bigger prize. Higs don't normally fight like pussies, taking cover like this."

"Right, but if we stay here for long enough they'll eith-" O'Brien was silenced by the cracking echoes of gunfire, "Either kill or capture us. We need a plan."

Vanderburg dropped to his haunches and motioned the lieutenant for his map, "We give them what they want. Pull back to the ridge, hold them in the compound and-"

Gunny finished his sentence, "And shell the fuck outta them."

"Two-two-bravo, come back to me Jeff," Vanderburg was on his comms.

"I'm here sarge. Actually, stand by..." Jeff didn't turn his radio off again, "Yeah there he is again Tex, peeking round the door."

Tex could be overheard, "Doorway, east building, ground floor, four hundred and twenty metres, wind no value. Have target?"

"On target."

"Fire." There was a loud snap as the round from Jeff's rifle reached the Helghast trying to flank into the marines' hideaway, struck him in the side between the front and back armour plating and ruptured his abdomen. The sound of the gunshot reached the Helghast's dead ears moments later.

"Two-two-actual, sergeant be advised that I just stopped a gatecrasher," Jeff said and Tex chuckled in the background.

"Two-two-bravo, we need you to spook the reserve Helghast company. Get them to enter the buildings."

"You sure sarge? That's a lot of Higs."

"We don't plan on staying, tell Tex to get ready to cover our retreat, out."

O'Brien radioed his own overwatch pair and filled them in on the plan before he said, "Sergeant, radio."

"Sir," Haughton replied, "Smythe! Radio!"

An eager, wide-eyed teen hurried over and knelt next to the lieutenant, facing outward. O'Brien grabbed a receiver from the private's kit and clicked it into blinking, beeping life. "Mailman, mailman this is Hammer-two-actual. Come back," they waited, nothing but the hiss of static.

"Fucking gun bunnies," Victor muttered, spat and reloaded his weapon.

O'Brien tried again, "Mailman, mailm-"

"Hammer-two-actual, this is mailman. Send traffic," the voice came back, calm as you please.

The lieutenant took the map back from the boer, "Requesting fire mission at papa, alpha, golf, three, six, niner, four, one. Forty foot-mobiles in hard cover." The artillery read the co-ordinates back to him like repeating a pizza order. "Solid copy mailman. Hold on this fire mission until I radio back."

"Copy hammer-two-actual, standing by."

There came through the cold air a steady, rhythmic beat of high-powered rifle gunshots as Jeff picked off targets from the other Helghast company. He was on the net, "Two-two-actual, I have those Higs bugging out. Shot anybody who received a salute and they are moving into the complex for cover."

"Roger that Jeff,"Vanderburg said before adding, "Hold fire, only engage targets who head back out west. Make them think it's safe in there."

"Copy, out."

"Right," O'Brien clapped his hands and rubbed them together, "Let's get out of here."

"Marines!" Gunny still rode the crest of his combat high, "We are oscar-fucking-mike." The men left the north wall, headed over to the opposite side and checked their weapons, reloading where necessary. There were mutters and moans about turning tail from a fight, six hundred or so metres to the ridge and forty-odd Helghast breathing down their neck. "Vic!" Gunny pointed a stubby finger, "I will be watching your lazy ass! You move and move most ricky-tick! You read me! And that goes for the rest of you fucknuts!"

"First squad!" O'Brien started out into the cold air and over the snow-sprinkled rubble, "On me!" They headed off in a south-easterly direction, but not before Gunny gave Victor a look of cold, hard steel.

"Second squad!" Vanderburg echoed the lieutenant's volume and tone, "Move!" Back the way they came, they bounded over the strewn concrete, twisted metal and moved through buildings as cover where possible - their heavy strides bounced back to them from the semi-demolished walls. None looked back to see the Helghast take the south building, the zips and cracks of bullets that fell wastefully into the ground around them was all the situational awareness they needed. Walker brought up the rear and focused on his feet instead of the bullets and made sure they were doing what the body required. His right arm suddenly jerked upward, his shoulder rolled forward with it and forced him to let go of his rifle, which then hung free on its harness.

He let out a howl as a searing pain shot up his arm and his hand went dead, "Corpsman! I'm hit!"

Doc turned and sprinted back to Walker, "Unless it's in your leg, I'm inclined not to give a shit and you're still bitching, which is always a positive sign. Keep moving!" Walker gritted his teeth, grabbed his weapon with his free arm, held it against his chest and tried to ignore the throbbing ache in his upper arm with each swing. Vanderburg reached the furthest out remains of the mining complex and crouched behind cover. He was joined quickly by Victor and the two yelled at Doc and Walker to 'hurry their asses up'. With Doc's encouragement Walker made it to cover, "He's hit. Gimme a minute to check him over."

"Two-two-bravo," the sergeant reached Jeff, "You got a visual on us?"

"Roger that, sarge. We have eyes on, why the stop? The Higs are moving out in your direction."

"Walker is hit, we need some time. Suppress, draw fire, whatever you can."

"Copy, out." There came, from a small collection of boulders about one hundred metres south of second squad's position, a succession of muzzles flashes followed closely by hollow, echoed cracks. Tex had opened up on the Helghast attempting to move out through the buildings and rubble. Walker looked out and counted the flashes until Doc shook his shoulders violently. "You with me, kid?" fingers snapped in front of his face and he focused on Doc's piercing glare, "There he is!"

"Hey Doc, I got shot" Walker slurred as he grinned and motioned with his chin to his right arm, "See?" Pain coursed throughout his body as Doc grabbed his forearm, moved it around - testing the joints and muscles - and checked the wound.

"In and out," Doc sighed, "Well that saves us digging around for a bullet in there. I'll stop the bleeding and then we can start running again." Walker nodded slowly, realised what the corpsman was saying and then shook his head instead. "Christ, don't pull this mickey-mouse shit with me now! You will run or I will leave you for the Higs."

Vanderburg walked over and crouched in front of Walker, hand on his left shoulder, "What's the matter? We not paying you enough attention so you jumped in the path of a bullet to be a hero eh? You silly jakka." Doc squeezed a compress onto the wound whilst the sergeant distracted Walker who let out a small anguished groan punctuated with an expletive. He got to his feet though and joined the other three in the dash to Jeff and Tex's entrenched position. Enemy fire became less and less of a worry the further from the ruins they reached, Tex and the gunner from first squad had the desired effect and all but halted the Helghast advance with sustained machine gun fire. Vanderburg turned and paced backward for a spell, watched the enemy through his monocular and ignored the rounds that fell helplessly twenty or so feet ahead of him - his sustained confidence in the gravity of Helghan was rewarded.

"Hey there sergeant," Jeff grinned, "I'm still cold." Vanderburg's reply was drowned out by Tex's LMG but they could all guess. Crouched amongst the rocks they waited for word from the lieutenant. Victor shuffled over to Walker and prodded him in the wounded arm with an index finger, who responded with a swing of his free arm and a fist that struck Victor in the stomach.

Victor coughed, "Glad you're okay buddy." Walker smiled weakly and tried to clench his fingers again, they wouldn't respond. Vic saw the dismay on his friend's face, "Don't worry about it, that doesn't mean shit." Walker looked up at him, didn't believe but nodded anyway.

"Two-two, this is two-one. We have met up with our sniper team on the slope, over."

"Roger that sir, we are in position on this side. Walker's hit, he can't shoot but still good on his feet. I make it another hundred and fifty back to the ridge. Orders sir?"

O'Brien had a small coughing fit before he replied, "Pull your team back and spread them out along the ridge. Walker can hold back with me and Smythe as we call in the fire mission."

"Solid copy sir, out. Okay guys, to the ridge. Walker you mean, green marine it's the home stretch eh? Just a little bit further and the LT will hide you away from any more bullets." The Helghast were working forward against Tex's suppressing fire, more and more rounds pinged off the surrounding rocks or hissed above their heads. Moving to behind some proper, solid cover sounded like a good move. "Move marines, move!" The six men sprinted the rest of the way and didn't allow themselves to move ahead of Walker who wanted nothing more than the men to leave him there so he couldn't slow them down any further. He panted up the to the crest of the ridge and stood for a moment, contrasted between the blue sky and white ground. The others joined him and they all turned to look back at the ruined, decrepit facility.

The Helghast crawled through the ruined structures like ants and swarmed in small groups before separating again in their movements. "Two-two, this is two-one," O'Brien called out, "At your six." Vanderburg spun to find the lieutenant and Gunny as they double-checked the map and calculations for the artillery. First squad was spread out to the east behind the crest, completely unscathed - something Walker couldn't help but notice. "How about you guys get down on the deck and stop ruining the our retreat?" O'Brien held a serious face for a second before he let out the briefest of smiles at the ragtag band of men who made up the platoon's second squad, "Walker, how you holding up? Get down here and rest yourself. That's an order."

Gunny had calmed, but he could still dish out the orders, "Smythe! Your ass, here, now!" The private stumbled down the steeper south side of the ridge, nearly lost his footing but arrived as ordered and the LT took his radio once more.

"Mailman, this is hammer-two-actual."

"Hammer-two-actual, mailman is standing by."

"Mailman, danger-close fire mission on grid papa, alpha, golf, three, six, niner, four, one. Forty foot-mobiles. Request high explosive and mike-546 beehive rounds. Fire for effect." The marines pricked up their ears at the mention of 'beehive rounds', even Gunny raised an eyebrow. The effectiveness of a weapon is measured in how long it remains unaltered and the 'beehive' round had gone mostly unchanged since its first use in the conflicts back on Earth in the mid-twentieth century. Although many technical advancements in the artillery weapon and fuse mechanisms of the shells had come and gone it kept its general purpose, which was to drop ten thousand metal darts over an area determined by the altitude of detonation. The darts carried the nickname of 'fleshette' and a few beehive rounds could bring a whole battalion to its knees. On Earth they were deemed illegal in 2048 after their use became widespread in built-up, urban areas but on Helghan, the ISA and UCA turned a blind eye.

"Roger hammer-two-actual. Danger-close fire mission on pre-chosen grid square. Three guns, one round hotel-echo and one round mike-546 each. Will fire for effect. Mailman awaiting order." The marines waited and watched intently their platoon commander. Every second he spent agonising over whether or not it was the right thing to do brought the enemy closer to their position and out of the area of effect of the artillery.

"Mailman, send package."

"Roger, hammer-two-actual. Package ou-" the 'gun bunny' was drowned out by three separate blasts, one second apart and there was a pause, "Hammer-two-actual... five seconds to splash down."

"Five seconds!" O'Brien screamed. The marines lay flat against the crest and peeked over the top. Unaware black specks continued to move toward them, a few had made it to the outskirts but most hung back in the scattered buildings. There came a dull whistle over their heads and the first shell landed just south of the central square, the cloud of dust was a little underwhelming until the blast reached their ears, a loud crack followed by a hollow boom. One second later the next round hit the western building of the square dead on and it disappeared from view in another mass of dust and chunks of snow-covered rock. The final shell landed amongst a loose gathering of enemy troops further south of a the square and scattered them through force and fear. After the third blast came the eerie silence - shock followed by the awe.

"Hammer-two-actual, second volley out. Five seconds." Originally, the beehive rounds had timed, mechanical fuses and it was another calculation for the artillery man to work out. The shells the marines used on Helghan were far more advanced, mid-flight it would scan the battlefield beneath it for enemy and calculate the most efficient (lethal) altitude and angle of detonation. There was a small burst of debris above the mining complex and thousands of metal darts rained down on the scattered Helghast positions. An area the size of two football fields disappeared in a fog of churned up snow and dust which quickly resettled to the ground. Another two such shells detonated over two similar areas further south, the second of which was close enough for the marines to see its effects. Helghast knocked down who didn't get back up and after only a little wait areas of blood could be seen to spread over the snow from their lifeless lumps of metal-ridden flesh. Doc let out a low whistle, everyone else nodded slowly in agreement.

The thirteen marines stood up along the ridge and waited for signs of survivors. Walker had his arm in a sling fashioned from his shemagh and said what they were all thinking, "What now?" And they to the lieutenant who just stared down at the dozens of dead Helghast and weighed his guilt. Vanderburg sidled up to him and put his hand on the lieutenant's shoulder.

"Sir," the sergeant waited for him to turn his head before he continued, "You gotta get these bastards back to the base eh? I'll hang back for a few hours, make sure you're not followed."

"Agreed, sergeant," O'Brien gave the boer a smile, "Gunny, get the men moving. Doc, you're second squad leader" Vanderburg strode over to Walker and punched him playfully in the good shoulder.

"I'll check in on you when I get back, kid." The men left Sergeant Vanderburg to hide himself on the ridge, they walked in silence and processed the day's events.

Okay, these things are just getting longer and longer. Action is annoying for me to write because there is just so much going on at once. But I still tried to get a little bit of character in their too. Apologies for the big waits between chapters, it's down to the way I write them and work is being a real slave master lately. So if you lovely people could let me know what you think of it. Am I going too far with the jargon? I dunno. Anyway, this is still a blast to write and I have ideas for taking it somewhere dark in the next chapter.