What is it? Another chapter so soon?

As always, thanks to Sniper Fodder for proof-reading this chapter.

Chapter LXXVII: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Badass

September 3, 2542 (UNSC Calendar)/

New Barbados Marshlands, New Barbados, Emerald Cove, Caribe System

The first shot to ring was a 14.5 x 114mm bullet from a Sniper Rifle System 99D-S2 Anti Matériel, better known as the sniper rifle. That wasn't very surprising, in fact, I would've been surprised if the first shot to boom wasn't from a sniper. Just seconds after the initial boom that the SRS made, twelve shots rang out in a span of approximately three seconds. That made for a grand total of thirteen shots fired in just over three seconds.

"Elite general down, ten plus additional KIAs," the Ranger sniper reported.

Read that previous sentence again. You notice the part that says 'ten plus additional KIAs'? That means that little Snark here probably nailed all twelve of his shots in less than three seconds. I don't care if he killed twelve zealots or if he killed twelve seagulls. The man killed twelve moving targets in three seconds. Three. Fucking. Seconds. Think about it for a moment.

"Take out those ghosts!" Nezarian ordered.

I heard the characteristic thud that the SPANKr made when it launched a rocket and then the whoosh as the rocket activated. Bumblebee's shot flew in a straight line and collided with a stationary ghost, the explosion killed or incapacitated an elite that was standing right next to it and the resulting fireball consumed three jackals that were sitting on the floor. Bumblebee's second rocket hit a wraith's main turret, although it didn't disable the craft, it prevented it from firing. If any covvie was stupid enough to try, the alien tank would blow itself up and everything in a twenty yard radius.

After the second rocket of all four SPANKrs in the group were fired there was a moment of stunned silence on part of the Covenant troops that were nearby. There was absolutely no way that they could be under attack by such an overwhelming force. At least that's what they thought, because they were under attack even though we didn't really overwhelm them. In fact, it was probably the other way around.

The moment of stunned silence lasted only that, a moment. I squeezed the trigger of my BR55 and felt the kick of a single bullet even though three went out the barrel. The 9.5mm rounds flew in a straight line and made solid contact with an elite major's head. The red alien reeled backwards even as the back of its head exploded in a shower of skull, brains, blood, and depleted uranium. The jackals behind him were showered in their leader's blood and could only squeal in shock even as they fumbled for their shield-gauntlets.

"Boom goes the dynamite bitches," Angel said. My eyes flickered to his direction for the briefest of moments, I could see that the man was throwing a medium sized stack of C10.

I hope he's got a good arm.

A few moments later the Italian squeezed down on a detonator and an incredibly loud boom blocked out every sound in the entire world. The reeds around the small patch of solid land were flattened backwards as the sheer force of the plastic explosive's shockwave flew at them. The water was also pushed away from ground zero and I was jerked slightly backwards as the shockwave passed through and around my body.

The explosion didn't really produce a fireball, instead it raised what was probably five tons of dirt and sent a concussive blast that turned every single organ of every single alien within the kill zone into something resembling mashed potatoes. At least twenty enemy soldiers collapsed in the shockwave and a few more were buried alive by the dirt. Most of the covvies killed were grunts and jackals, but still, it was a hell of a bargain.

"There, sniper," Schitzo warned

I flicked my gun slightly to my left, knowing where the jackal was even though my brain hadn't even processed its location yet. I squeezed the trigger for the second time since the engagement started and a millisecond later the vulture-like alien had one hole in its neck and two in its chest. I don't know if death was instant, but it was certain. I switched targets and fired at an elite clad in blue armor. My first burst bounced off its shield. Seems like they were just starting to react. Another burst quickly followed the first one and then another soldier brought down the huge alien with a well-placed shot from a DMR (you can tell by the way the blood sprays).

As I shot a grunt's methane pack I heard the first enemy weapon being fired. Unfortunately, it wasn't a simple grunt firing his plasma pistol in excitement, it was a white elite shooting one of the plasma turrets that could spin far enough in our direction.

As far as I could tell, the alien didn't kill or hit anyone, but all the rangers were forced to jump back behind something vaguely solid or dove underwater. Plasma couldn't go more than a few inches through water since it was highly unstable, but it could certainly boil the chemical compounds soon enough, frying any unfortunate soldier that couldn't make his way out in time.

The elite's initiative seemingly inspired the rest of the covvies, even as they retreated they turned and dropped to the floor to make themselves smaller targets and fire with more accuracy at us.

The ones that dropped first died even as they tried to find a target amongst the tall reeds that packed tightly against each other. The smarter ones that found a rock or a small raise on the ground managed to last a few more seconds before being made into cheese graters. The ones that really started giving us trouble were the ones that made it all the way back to the deployable covers that were lying around. Those were dealt with quickly as well.

It wasn't until we met the bulk of the enemy ground forces that we were really halted. We were so outnumbered in here that we would probably have to fall back within a few minutes, but the marines were already headed in this direction and would break through the covvie line sooner rather than later. Their success would enable the Army to do its job appropriately. Kill absolutely everything that wasn't friendly thoroughly, and with extreme prejudice.

"On the right, on the right! Aim for the squids!" I could hear Pavel yelling.

"Behind that wraith!"

"Reloading!"

"Shit, I'm hit, I'm hit."

"Fuck those bastards."

"Headshot motherfucker!"

Those were only some of the few things that I heard. The Rangers were extremely loud when it came to combat. My squad… not so much.

I had found cover behind the front half of the ghost that Agnarsson had initially wrecked. It was thick and sturdy enough to prevent any enemy projectile from reaching me with enough force to cause any real kind of harm. Pavel, out of custom, had slid right by me and placed his gun above cover, providing a seemingly endless barrage of death and bullets to the covvies up ahead. The rest of my squad found cover behind rocks or in small ditches that the grunts had just started digging. Snark asked for covering fire while he dragged a particularly large elite and placed it on top of another similar specimen, getting himself some decent cover.

The marksman went prone and set to work. I have never seen anyone with so much raw talent and skill at what he does. I'm technically a marksman, and a damned good one at that, but I couldn't even begin to compare myself to Snark. He worked through elites as if they were grunts. Three shots to the head and they were gone. He switched targets so quickly that it almost seemed that he didn't even stop in between

Lamberti had stopped using explosives and instead had switched to his SAW. He fired long bursts at any elite that bared its head and then let Caboose take them out with a well-placed burst from his MA5K. The two mean repeated the same process over and over, exclusively targeting the higher-ranking aliens and occasionally taking out a jackal that strayed too far from any real cover.

Sutton was making good use of his under barrel grenade launcher. In fact, he was making great use of it. Every couple of seconds he would fire yet another HE round into any location where more than three Covenant troopers had decided to huddle. After the grenades detonated there was a spray of dirt and body parts flying around.

Grass had taken cover behind a small boulder and was using sustained bursts from her rifle to shoot any jackal that bared its limbs to her eyes. She seemed to have a knack for hitting the birds in their legs and then right in their ugly faces as they landed on the floor screaming. As soon as her bullets hit them again they invariably stopped their cries of pain.

Bumblebee, not possessing a particularly strong weapon and wanting to save his extra rockets, was taking out grunts with his carbine. The man wasn't really an exemplary marksman and missed some shots that I would've considered easy, but he hit six out of ten grunts that he shot at and the heavy rounds were usually enough to either kill them or wound them seriously enough to stop fighting.

My team was motherfucking badass.

"Lieutenant, the sensors are picking up screamers!"

"Shit, Lan, load your tubes, take 'em out," Nezarian ordered through the battle channel.

A second later three banshees emerged from the low-hanging clouds and started a strafing run that forced everyone to jump for cover and hit one ranger in the back of the knee. The man would never be able to walk normally again. Perhaps it was for the best, he would be honorably discharged and would live the rest of his days in Reach with a modest pension until the covvies somehow managed to glass the planet.

Didn't think that was likely though, Reach is a fortress.

As soon as the man that was hit in the leg hit the floor, the banshee that had injured him exploded in a beautiful spectacle of blue, white, and red. A second later the lead flier met its end as another SPANKr met its mark. The third banshee took the smart choice and did the tightest turn that I had ever seen before hauling ass away from this direction.

"Enemy is getting reinforcements, sir!"

"Be ready to fall back, retreat pattern bravo, Reaper Squad will cover our asses while we make way for the Marines!" Nezarian notified everyone.

"I don't remembering you consulting me on that," I mentioned while blowing the back of a jackal's skull off.

"Sorry," Yevgeny apologized. "Do you want to cover our asses?" he asked me.

"I would be delighted to," I replied in a faux British accent.

The ranger didn't bother with an answer and instead went back to doing what he could do best. After I confirmed that the conversation was over I went back to doing what I did best, which incidentally, was the same thing that Yevgeny Nezarian did best. Killing aliens and blowing shit up.

A grunt met its gods a lot sooner than it would've liked to as two bursts from my rifle went through its thick torso. The rounds left six small holes in his armor from which blood started pouring as soon as it hit the floor. The one standing behind him met a quicker, cleaner end as Pavel fired no less than fifteen round into its chest and arms. Poor thing didn't even have time to process it had been shot before half its upper body went missing.

Despite the incredibly high amount of casualties that we had caused in the initial minute of our raid, the covvies were now returning fire. They didn't really have to aim much, there were so many of them that soon enough one soldier would get lucky and manage to pull off a headshot with his eyes closed and holding his gun sideways.

Hey, I've seen it happen.

"Hunter!"

"Bee," Pavel cried. "Take it out!"

"If you could just tell me where it is?" the man requested even as he placed his weapon on the floor and reached towards his back to grab his rocket launcher.

"Over the ridge, your eleven o'clock!"

"Locked and loaded," Bumblebee said. The rocket flew straight from his tube and slammed into the monstrous alien even before it could raise its shield or even fire its weapon. The rocket hit the alien right in the chest, blowing the alien completely apart and spraying a nearby grunt with orange blood and flesh. "Yippie ki yay, motherfucker!" he cried out in triumph.

"That's a nice one," Scarecrow noted. "You came up with that yourself?"

"Remind me to show you Die Hard as soon as we get out of this place."
"Why would you want to get out of this place?" Caboose asked even as he sprayed a pair of jackals. "It has some lovely beaches and a great climate."

"And homicidal aliens," Snark pointed out to him in his quiet voice.

"Oh," Bumblebee said. "That too."

"Castillo, we might just need to fall back in a minute!" Lieutenant Nezarian warned me.

"So soon?" I said with a chuckle. "But I was just-" I glanced at the newcomers and dodged behind cover. "Yikes."

"Yikes indeed," Nezarian agreed. "Backing away now."

"Smart choice," I complimented him.

I took a peek and could see that the hunter that Agnarsson had taken out was obviously not the only one. There were at least ten more of the hulking two-legged beasts moving about. They were tightly packed together and were all crouched with their shields raised. I could see sparks as bullets bounced off of the alien metal. Behind the hunters I could make out the tops of several elite's heads. They were nearly invulnerable so long as the hunters kept in formation.

"Scarecrow, lob a grenade!" I ordered. "Angel, start mining the place with your explosives."

"How do you intend for me to do that?" the man called out, obviously annoyed. "You want me to dance through the plasma?"

"No," I replied with ice in my voice, "I want you to toss your shit around. Fucking idiot."

Angel didn't reply but started pulling out the explosives from several pockets that were present on his armor. He lined them up and started inserting receivers into the putty even as Caboose provided a barrage of fire at anything that threatened their position.

"Squad one falling back," a sergeant said through the battle net.

As I heard that I spotted five ghosts charging towards our direction. They weren't firing, but they were boosting full speed. The tactic seemed absurd from my perspective, how would they manage to land a shot if they were moving so fast and why would they boost so close to us where they were easy targets. Even as Snark took out the driver of one of the vehicles the other four kept coming towards us. It didn't really make any sense to me. Then suddenly it hit me.

"You're screwed unless you come up with something quickly buddy," Schitzo said behind me. I briefly turned around to look at the man and was startled when a needle went through him as if he was a projection. Wait, he was. A second after the round went through Schitzo's cheek, the man poofed. He literally poofed. Schitzo didn't disappear like he usually did, he poofed, complete with an animation for it.

As soon as he was gone one ghost flew above me, using the wreck of the ghost I was using for cover as a ramp. Time slowed down as I remembered my first time in actual combat. I had been taking cover behind a pile of debris in Fort Convict when an elite pulled this same stunt. I could even feel the anti gavity thrusters pushing down on me ever so slightly.

"What the fuck!"

Those three words snapped me back to real time and everything started moving at regular speed again. The ghost landed behind me even as the other three flew through our lines. The four craft turned around one hundred and eighty degrees before bearing their guns and searching for targets. I was unfortunate to be one of those lucky targets.

"Holy fucking shit!" I cried as I jumped away from my cover. Pavel did the same, but the stream of blue plasma went after me instead of my friend. Lucky him. "Shoot the damn thing!" I called out.

I slid behind a deployable shield and lasted a grand total of three seconds before the ghost's cannons brought it down. I was extremely fortunate that not one covvie put a round through the back of my head as I stood there, completely devoid of cover. As soon as the shield flickered down I started sprinting. I sprinted as fast as I fucking could, no limitations this time. My enhanced muscles and bones pushed me over the ground at literally superhuman speeds as the obviously startled elite tried to pivot his ghost to shoot me.

I then started moving towards the craft and right when the plasma bolts seemed to finally catch up with me, I jumped.

I jumped way higher than any normal human being had right to. I jumped way farther than anyone should've been able to. I jumped right on top of the front half of the ghost. My two hands caught on the edge of the front section as I was forced to let go of my trusty rifle. I could hear my team yelling that they couldn't get a good shot with me on the vehicle and suddenly found myself looking straight at the elite that was piloting the craft. The monster snarled with what I could've sworn was a smile and started shaking his craft around with the purpose of knocking me off. All the while, the ghost was still firing red hot plasma, or more appropriately, blue hot plasma. One burst went less than an inch away from my leg. At least that's what it felt like, since my left foot suddenly started hurting like shit.

I swallowed up the pain and used the momentum that the ghost's erratic maneuvers provided me with and spun to the side of the craft, placing one foot on top of one of the ghost's wing-like stabilizers. The elite could only look confused as I released my grip with one hand and reached towards my sidearm, pulling it out of its holster and aiming at the unfortunate pilot of the ghost.

The rest, as they say, is history.

A history I'd rather tell you about, since it makes me look all the more badass.

I aimed at the elite and squeezed off as many rounds as the gun's mechanism allowed me to. As soon as the heavy-caliber bullets punched through the elite's shield it was as good as dead. The remaining bullets in my magazine went through both of its eyes, top of its head, and mouth. The back of the elite's head suddenly stopped existing and it slumped sideways before falling out of the ghost.

The purple vehicle skidded on the ground for a few seconds before it came to a complete halt. I could almost hear the stunned silence of anyone who witnessed that act of badassitude I did just now. I hopped into the ghost's pilot seat and smiled a deadly smile as the craft whirred back to life. The small smile turned into a grin as I grabbed the two levers and homed in on the line of hunters. I squeezed the triggers. Two Class-2 energy guns started spraying out plasma at a rate of 750 rounds per minute.

The blue blobs of superheated plasma slammed into the group of hunters, most impacting on their heavy shields. Most doesn't really mean all, and the few that made it through did some serious damage on the hulking behemoths. In less than ten seconds one hunter was already fried and the covvies hadn't even realized that I was in a ghost.

Right, ghosts!

I turned my hijacked craft around and spotted one of the other three ghosts, the other two were both flaming wrecks right now. I used my HUDs improvised crosshairs and aimed at the elite piloting the ghost. The plasma burned through his shields armor and flesh in no time, leaving behind a crisp body smelling of burnt meat and alien blood.

"Squad 2, falling back!"

"Castillo, stop showing off and cover their asses!"

"Yessir!" I replied happily. This was actually kind of fun.

I focused my fire on the hunters at the edge of the formation and smiled as they started falling one by one. Despite my best efforts, I wouldn't be able to bring them all down before they reached our position or decided to take aim at my ghost and blast it into oblivion. In the meantime, I just kept firing. The ghost was a magnificent craft, being able to strafe sideways to avoid plasma and needler rounds as well as fire at the same time, giving me a distinct advantage over the Covenant infantry.

"Frank, watch out!"

I had already spotted the Spec Ops grunt carrying a fuel rod cannon, but the controllers in the ghost didn't allow it to turn sideways to face the small alien that fast. I made the mistake of turning around instead of simply boosting out of the missile's trajectory. The only thing I could do was jump from the craft and hope that I wasn't incinerated.

"Fuuuuuuuuuck!"

There was a loud explosion and a green flash even as I was still in the air. The shockwave from the fuel rod pushed me just a little bit and the heat was felt all the way through my armor. I knew even before I landed that I would be just fine, even if I did get some nasty blisters on my back.

"Shit," I muttered. "Bumblebee, you still got rockets?"

"Just the one boss?" he replied.

"Use it now, fire at the center of the formation!"

"That won't really-"

"Fire!" I yelled.

An instant later the HEAT missile was flying through the air and made contact with a hunter, hitting the monster right on its shield. The blast and the shockwave propelled it backwards with such force that it did a back flip and landed on top of some elites. Before the other hunters could close the gap that its stunned comrade had left Pavel, Snark, Angel and myself redirected our fire into that position. By my count we managed to kill or wound at least three elites and several jackals and grunts. By the time our bullets were pinging off alien metal instead of going through flesh, the second ranger squad was already safely away and regrouping with the first one. Once the third squad left they would start calling in the heavy guns to provide some support while the bulk of the marines arrived.

"Goddamit Castillo!" Nezarian spoke through bursts from his MA37 rifle. "You just had to lose our biggest gun."

"Next time you can hijack the ghost," I replied as a stream of plasma pounded the rock that I was taking cover behind.

"Fuck! Ramirez, watch your FOF!" he yelled angrily. "Frank, we're leaving now, cover us."

"On it," I replied. "Snark, show me what you can do and take out as many elites as you can. Everyone else target high priority targets! Sutton, fire all your grenades at the hunter's feet, maybe you can blow 'em off."

I rolled to the side and fired three rounds that took out three jackals before rolling back behind the safety of my sturdy rock. The hunters were now less than fifty yards away from us and were steadily advancing even as my sniper took shots at the holes in their barrier. If they decided to charge, my squad and Nezarian's were as good as seriously wounded.

Not dead, never dead.

"Bumblebee, use your peashooter and take out those grunt heavies!" I ordered. "Grass, that gun can fire more than four rounds at a time, you know? Same for you Caboose!"

As soon as I was done giving those orders I popped away from cover once more and tossed a grenade, taking out a pair of grunts that were setting up a plasma turret. I brought my rifle up and fired five rounds at an elite major, killing it with a shot through the throat. Before I could reload my gun a bright blue orb appeared an inch from my left boot. For the second time in less than two minutes I yelled fuck angrily and jumped away from an explosion. This time I managed to completely avoid the blast.

I also managed to land in open ground.

"Cover me!" I yelled frantically. Even as I ordered my people to cover my ass I half-crawled, half-jumped towards the body of an abnormally large elite ultra. Dirt glowed cherry red all around me as plasma rounds hit it and then flew upwards as needler rounds detonated. Enemy fire decreased slightly as the noise of unaimed gunfire became louder and I was able to place myself behind the relative cover of the dead elite.

"Thanks guys, I owe you one," I admitted.

"Castillo, feel free to run the hell away from there," Yevgeny told me.

"Gentlemen," I said calmly, "and lady, feel free to haul ass away from here."

"'Bout time sir!" Scarecrow noted while he stood up and turned around to get the hell out of there.

"Pavel," I said, "you stay."

"I would've been offended if you didn't ask," he replied in between chuckles.

As soon as my team's markers were a good distance away from Pavel's and mine, I stood up ignoring every precaution that I should've taken and aimed at the rushing hunters. I took my time while switching the firing mode from single-fire to full-auto. Don't get me wrong, I'm not stupid like that, but there is something incredibly disturbing about watching an enemy stay firm in the face of overwhelming odds. The rifle kicked and I was forced to hold it harder as I sprayed rounds from my hip.

This was the closest I've ever seen a hunter getting second thoughts.

Pavel's M247L made the loud noises that had turned into an almost heavenly sound to my ears. The surviving hunters were now so close to both of us that the elites behind them were sprinting through the holes in their ranks, forming a wall. A wall that prevented any enemy further behind to get a clear shot at us.

Pavel emptied his machine gun on one of the leading hunters and took an elite minor sporting a sword. The moment the blue-clad warrior slammed face first into the mud, a dozen energy swords came to life in the hands of as many elite warriors. I couldn't help but smile at the thought of being more afraid of a sword than of a rifle.

"Sometimes rock does beat laser," Schitzo said, appearing beside me once again.

"Go figure," I said.

By the time those two words left my mouth Pavel was already thirty feet behind me, spraying the group of elites that was headed towards me. He brought down two of the aliens and left me to fend off the other two creatures. As good of odds as I was bound to get in this war in a situation like this. The first elite received a burst of fire right in the chest before I kicked it in its stomach. The kick actually did more to push me backwards than to push it away, but the result was the same.

I drew my pistol and emptied the magazine on the other elite even as I ducked one blow from the plasma sword it was carrying. The backwards duck made me slam into the ground. I rolled back before any of the two elites could slice me in two and reloaded my rifle. The bolt clicked just as one of the two elites lunged towards me. I was lucky that they were both minors; inexperienced and eager for the kill. That was their undoing.

I side-stepped neatly and heard the hot plasma of the sword burning the air that it made contact with.. I brought my right leg up in a punt, hitting the elite's arm with the point of my heavy metal boot. My own strength, coupled with the enhancements and the armor's mild exo-skeleton made for one hell of a kick. I heard a bone snap and jammed my barrel down the throat of the elite before it could scream. I pushed down the trigger and then closed my eyes for a second as a huge amount of blood, brains, and bone exploded in every direction.

The other elite had been splattered with its friend's blood, making it think twice before lunging again. The moment of hesitation was all I needed. I jumped backwards and fired enough shots at the elite until it collapsed on the floor, dead.

Then I turned around and hauled ass away from there. I hadn't gone more than a few meters before I splashed into the water. My speed drastically decreased but I soon had dense reeds covering me from the prying eyes of elite and jackal marksmen alike. The rest of the hunters and elites charged. I could hear splashing around, but none seemed to know exactly where I was. All the better for me.

"Oi! Sarge!"

I headed towards the direction of the voice and came face to face with my squad. They were all arranged in a neat circle, aiming their guns in every direction. Pavel was with them.

"I see that you made it safe and sound," he noted.

"I usually do," I replied.

"No, you usually just make it," Pavel corrected sarcastically.

"Sure, let's move out," I ordered.

As soon as I had said that the reeds all around us started blowing up as needle rounds sliced through them and detonated, sending thousands of little shards in every direction completely obliterating the thin plants. One needle shard in particular flew through me and Scarecrow only to hit Grass in the left thigh. It glowed bright pink and I lunged at her. One hand landed right on the pink projectile while the other on her chest. She fell down, more shocked at my reaction than in pain at having been shot.

Even as we both fell to the water I got a firm grip on the needle and yanked hard. With one fluid motion I tossed the pink crystal as far away as I could before it detonated a few meters away from me. Then I slammed into Grass and the water. I pulled the injured Helljumper up from the water and she grunted in pain. She was bleeding profusely from her leg and had to hold on to my arm not to fall down.

"Keep moving," I ordered. "Caboose, give her some medigel."

"On it."

Our small unit headed away from the noise of angry covvies slowly, with one wounded teammate in tow. If we didn't meet up with Nezarian's rangers soon we would be in some serious shit.

"Pavs, where's Nezarian?" I asked.

"Just a little further," he replied.

Turns out that we never reached just a little further, for as soon as my friend said that I heard a noise that, although not as familiar as Pavel's M247L, was even sweeter. I heard the noise of hornet gunships flying through the air.