Machine Guns rained down from above, the Marines, ODSTs and Spartan-IVs replying to the enemy's forces with automatic fire. The corpse of a Mobile Infantryman fell from height, crumpling up like wet paper upon impact. Blood splattered across the battered mountain road, while his comrades continued firing down. A Feddie soldier stood to his feet, crying out to his mates, "We're down here, too, you assholes! Get us outta here before you start fi-" only for his words to be cut short.

A bullet had pierced his forehead. It was a Morita round, obvious to him by the sole flash he saw before it struck. He collapsed, dead, crumpled up and slumping. His mates saw that and all suddenly tried to scramble to their feet. Much to their surprise, however, the ODSTs and Marines dragged them out of the line of fire and into the buildings, while Niura and Parisa rallied the gang and forced them to retreat under the roofs of the buildings, too.

Poking out only to fire bursts, Lieutenant Parisa had found herself swearing a lot more often than normal. She growled, slamming in a fresh magazine, before peering up to see the flashes. She radioed in, "PHANTOM FOUR, this is Third Platoon, requesting air come down on our position and hose the fuckers up on those goddamn fucking ridges! We're getting shot up down here!"

She looked back to the sight of a stunned Feddie soldier. The blonde girl voiced, "They... They just shot Grisha... They saw us down here and yet they still shot..."

"That's what you are to them!" Parisa barked at them, then poked out, scoped in another man and blasted a guy's forehead clean off. She then watched Buck go out to coordinate the advancing gunships. Overhead, the drone of their engines filled the air, with the group watching to see a Vulture. Its autocannons spun up and it let loose a flurry of HE ammo, sending shards of rock and a small avalanche of dust falling to the road, not to mention the remnants of corpses.

Parisa sighed, lowering her rifle, then calling out, "Guys, you still alive?!" only to receive several affirmative callouts from her team. She sighed, feeling her legs turn weak. She sat herself down by the door, rubbing her face and murmuring something about the need of air cover if they even hoped to advance without lead coming down on top of their heads. Sure, their helmets could take the hits, but it wasn't that that worried her. It was clear the Feds were probably setting up for a Guerrilla war up here.

A Guerrilla war the UNSC would have to fight. They could starve the planet out, honestly, but that was a bit too much. Civvies were still present and starving an entire planet to oust a bunch of morons was not good for optics back home. With a sigh, she then whistled and rallied the squad, telling them, "We'll start moving out with whatever odd platoon comes to reinforce us. I want whatever extra ammo, MREs and ordnance we can scrounge up that can be fired high enough to bust any Feddies on the mountains. I'll radio Phantom and ask'em to provide CAS, too."

"Understood, ma'am," Niura replied, "We'll be glad to have a few Vultures and Hornets covering our heads, at least," and she slung her shotgun onto her back. She was about to speak again, before the twisted remains of a rifle the Feddies had been using fell from above, bumping into her helmet and sending her reeling. The Sergeant swore like a sailor, taking her helmet off and holding onto her noggin, while Jake approached the weapon.

He lifted it off the ground, then hummed and said, "Looks like an MA37," as he shouldered it. Indeed, the bent weapon had the standard shape of a UNSC Army rifle. He looked over to the others and asked, "We got any communiques about Army personnel sent in to help maintain the occupation on the planets going missing? Or Army Divisions deployed to supplement us?"

"Nope," Parisa sighed, rubbing her face, "I have a bad fucking feeling."

Niura shook her head and said, "You heard the lady, gang. Scatter, grab ammo, wait for the rest of the Company to rally up so we can move the fuck out. Remember the towns ahead are friendly, but the mountaintops aren't..." turning to Parisa. The Lieutenant approved with a nod, then went back to talk to Buck and the rest of the 501st about what other types of crap they should expect.

Before long, the Company was mobile again, two columns moving on both sides of the road between the towns, rifles in hand and eyes scanning the cliff faces around them for hostiles. Jane marched behind Jake, telling him, "... So, anyway, apparently, my friend, Clara, decided to try and reach out to me about you. You remember her, right? We met her and her boyfriend during that one summer trip back in, what, '54? When we were both on Shore Leave."

"Was she that cute blonde with green eyes and freckles?" Jake asked with a snort. The pair looked over to the left as a disabled light anti-infantry platform lay overturned, its crew being checked by ODST Corpsmen. Overhead, a Hornet flew security, its twin machine guns and missile pods pointing with its frame as it spun around. Two more Hornets followed in, with two Wombat drones flying overhead.

"That's the one," Jane shot back, grinning. "And good news for you, mister blonde lover, she's single now."

"Hah, truly 'luck' for me, eh?" The guy replied in kind, "She was smart and cute and all, but really not my vibe. Plus, I'm really not going for romance anymore. Maybe when I'm outta the Corps and retiring, but not now," before pulling on the strange bendy straw on this back. He slid it between his lips and dragged, pulling up water from his camelback pouch this time.

Jane rolled her eyes, while Niura quipped, "And that's a loss for the ladies, Jakey!" from the other side, garnering the laughter of the platoon. The man wanted to flip the bird at his Sarge, but chose life instead, simply eyeing the debris on the sides of the road. Dead transport trucks, Feddie bodies presumably from UNSC Air Assets hammering home the point that the Feds really needed to up their game, plus destroyed, burnt-out vehicle husks that were probably just stopgaps.

"Not one to comment since I scare off guys quite often, Heera Alikersantti," Junttila started, smiling, "But shouldn't you really think through the idea of having a girl waiting back home? If even just so you have some semblance of a reason to go back there besides partying with the Platoon..." only to look back toward Heikkala, who was picking her nose with her pinkie, much to the disgust of Niko and one of the new riflemen who joined the group. A quiet kid, tired, fearful. He was Mexican by descent.

"The Platoon's enough, Anni," He replied calmly, smiling. The group continued their march into town as he explained, "Plus, I don't want a repeat of the previous chick. Took me a week for the anger to pass for the shit she pulled. Realizing she wasn't worth a goddamn thing and that it had, in fact, actually just been a fling that would probably not have gone anywhere made things easier."

Aada quipped, "Her mommy milkers must've been nice," which caused the entire platoon to double over, turning to the platinum-blonde sniper. She smiled innocently, staring at the group. And everyone else burst into laughter a few seconds later, returning to formation. Heikkala, proud of herself, jaunted forward with a grin. Marta hit Heikkala gently in the back with her palm, then looked to Niura.

"So, this is the psycho you folks replaced me with, eh?" The German sniper quipped, holding the strap of her rifle. She told Heikkala, "Don't get too comfy, Finn. I'll outshoot you."

"Heh, would like to see you try, Kraut," The Finn replied with a chuckle. The sole thought in Niura and Parisa's heads that was common at that interaction was them being glad that their two snipers had already set up their friendly competition, meaning they were getting along. Overhead, another Vulture swept in as the group entered the next town over, sitting down and taking a break in the square where UNSC AAA had been set up, beside yet more prisoners from the Federation Militias that had been captured.

These ones were untied, surprisingly, and outright interacting with the present ODSTs, sharing laughs, food and smokes. Of course, there was a much larger UNSC presence here, including a pair of ONI agents that seemed to be interviewing the rank and file Militiamen. Villagers were going about their business, too, selling fruits and food to the ODSTs. Obviously, some suspicion about the foodstuffs was natural, but checks seemed to point at it being relatively safe to eat.

A young kid walked up to Jake and Jane as they sat themselves down by a fountain and extended apples toward them. The two smiled at the boy, gave him quick nods and Jane even handed him a chocolate she had on her, before both went to wash (and test) the apples. The test itself was done via a kit in the medical supplies Jane carried. Once it was clear they were fine, the two Marines washed them in the fountain's surprisingly sparkling-clean water and took big bites.

Refreshing, sweet and crunchy. Like any apple should be, honestly. Parisa watched this from afar. Watched the two of them interact, laugh like old friends, then sighed. She stopped Niura as the girl was going to retrieve some supplies, before pointing at Jake and Jane and asking, "How long until those two become a thing?"

"Give it another month or two," The Sarge replied.

Parisa rolled her eyes, "You said that during New Mombasa."

"I didn't know either of'em would be this freaking stubborn, okay?" Niura chuckled, "Plus... We're still waiting to see what happened to a certain someone."

"You mean Thompson?" She quirked a brow at her. Niura confirmed via nod, with the Lieutenant murmuring, "ONI Contacts told me she's with Sapien Sunrise. And last we heard, those guys are becoming a Neo-Insurrectionist issue..." as she took out her canteen, taking a long, hefty swig from it. The two sighed, with Niura murmuring something, while the Lieutenant replied, "I agree..."

... Before long, the Platoon was on the move again. This time, it seemed they caught a convoy of Marines that had moved ahead of them engaging enemies up on the ledges. They joined in, taking cover by the sides of the road, while sweeping the area of mines and IEDs with their scanning equipment. The two escorting Hornets overhead let loose with their own machine guns, either killing or forcing the enemy back while the Company and the Marines in the vehicle convoy fired up.

With another ambush fought back, the group entered the next town and rested. Then the next with little fighting, then the next again. By the end, they were at the closest town to the Front Line, where tracers lit a night that had just fallen upon the valley. Overhead, Vulture gunships let loose volleys of missiles toward the enemy's own FOB in what was left of the village ahead.

Windows were reinforced at the edge of town, armored with steel plates and the lighting inside the buildings obscured so the Marines could relax inside the walls of the cottages. Jake plopped himself down, letting out a deep sigh as the rumble of autocannons shook the building they were using as a garrison post. He could hear the whistle of shells from the enemy's own better heavy-duty artillery pieces and somewhat found himself annoyed that they'd brough that stuff in.

Honestly, he thought, he didn't care for it...

His mind had been stuck on a certain someone for a while...

Aboard the UCFS Roger Young...

Johnny had been... Promoted.

He was now the active Lieutenant of the Roughnecks platoon, despite the loss of the General. Admittedly, It was probably Karl that had put in a good word for the Roughnecks that saved them from dying, something or other about the man being a dead one already, considering the recordings. He stared at the new pins on his neck and smiled, a bit awkward about the fact they were now donning the new stuff.

The fact he was now a Lieutenant, however, only served to exacerbate his unease. Sat in the hangar, beside the Roughnecks' dropship, Rico looked over at his weapon and checked and re-checked it. They'd started issuing new Moritas to various units, including his own. The Morita-II was a heavy piece of equipment, mounting an underbarrel grenade launcher in place of the weapon's trusty shotgun. The Grenades were thermobaric in origin, it seemed, considering the blast he saw during training.

The weapons, however, weren't the reason he was on-edge. No, quite the opposite, in fact. After seizing the Brain Bug from Planet P, the Roughnecks and the 5th MI Division had been redeployed from near Klendathu to the other major front of their two-front war. The UNSC was making startling advances due to the presence of the Fleet and their Alien allies, out of which apparently a singular vessel was tearing into their Corvettes like they were hot knife through butter.

Navy issues, yet again. No, the reckless group that was Rico's Roughnecks would be deployed a system away from the planet they were currently fighting over. The mountainous hellscape that was that world had nearly fallen as it was, with the sole hope of annoying the UNSC being a protracted Guerrilla War. And even before that, their fleets would sweep the rest of the systems.

They'd lost almost a dozen from the get-go, with their next target being Zegama Beach. That was gonna be a problem and a half to deal with. He'd also gotten some new recruits added to the team before they'd warped out of Klendathu. Even before that, Karl had sent a message about a new arriving reinforcement he was supposed to greet when it arrived.

He paused, a chill shooting up his spine as he felt a certain familiar someone prodding his mind. In the mass of soldiers and sailors on board the Young, his jet-black uniform, trenchcoat and cap stood out like a sore thumb. He stood to his feet, setting the Morita-II aside and crossing his arms with a grin as he saw the man approach. The two saluted each-other, before Karl spoke, "Congrats on your promotion, Johnny."

"Thanks, Karl... Take it you put a good word in for us after the General got nabbed, eh?" He offered his hand for a handshake, which Karl firmly gripped.

Karl looked over to the new gun and said, "I see they're starting to issue the Morita-IIs now. Word of mouth is they should be able to ring the UNSC's bell well enough. If not, well, the grenades oughta do the trick..." before sighing as they started walking to the mess hall. He told Johnny, "I'm gonna be honest with you, old friend, we're looking at one hell of a crisis here."

"We got the briefing. UNSC's basically curbstomping most of the Divisions sent to face them and they're about to take that mountainous planet," The man replied, sighing deeply, "We getting the Elites out now, with us and the 5th moving in to join the 1st, 7th and 9th... Heard the Pskovians are even getting reformed from the Moscow sector back on Earth."

"Well-informed today, are we?" Karl smirked, "Squad leadership does things to a man."

"Hey, I gotta know who's backing me and my gang up, right?" Rico chuckled at that, "Good to see you haven't lost your humor with the shrinks."

"I like to keep my friends and their buddies off my list for the moment," The man nodded, then quipped "You and Diz finally hit it off as far as I heard from Carmen. How's that going?" and that got Rico to blush. Despite Karl 'isolating' Rico and part of his platoon from the mind-reading, he could still feel the second-hand embarrassment due to being close enough to the guy. He snorted, "That good, eh?"

"Yeah," Johnny sighed, then coughed awkwardly as they entered the mess hall. He asked, "By the way, what's this about some new 'secretive' reinforcement command's sending our way?" only to pause as he saw Karl lift a hand. He was telling him to wait until after they'd gotten something to eat, rather obviously. So, with apples in hand and bottles of water, the two walked back to the hangar.

There, he paused as he saw a new ship had landed. A black dropship, painted with an alien skull that was crossed out on its side. From it had deployed a platoon of soldiers clad in what looked to be more modern BDUs than theirs, the leader of the unit marching onto the deck with a fairly well-concealed disdain. She seemed to be carrying a long-barrelled sniper rifle on her back and a pair of SMGs on her hips.

She set her bag to the side, then turned toward Karl and Rico, crossing her arms after she took her helmet off. Blonde hair flowed over her shoulders. She pushed it out of her blue eyes. She was a beautiful woman on all accounts, though the scars she bore all across her face and even her exposed forearms told of a torture the likes of which few humans should endure. Still, the healed scars detracted little from her looks.

"There they are..." Karl offered as they walked to meet the officer in the middle. They saluted her, with Karl stating, "Welcome aboard...?"

"Captain Iris Thompson. Call me Snapshot, Spook," She replied, her voice cold, a deadpan as her crew unloaded equipment. Launchers, rifles, ammo, armor replacement parts, the likes. Rico was confused by what a military unit armed like what their enemy would be armed was doing aboard their ship. Karl was about to speak, but she cut him off ahead of time, telling them, "Let me make something clear before either of you speak or ask me anything... Sapien Sunrise has decided to work in tandem with the Federation because we share a common goal, that being the elimination of the aliens supporting our former brothers in arms."

She looked over to Rico and told him, "I take it this is the TL of the Roughnecks. We'll be working together against the UNSC and their Sangheili buddies. You see one of the hinge-jawed Freaks, you call them out to me or one of my boys," before motioning back to the platoon of fairly colorful human soldiers, all of whom gave their own specific signs of greeting. She grinned, blue eyes glowing with a contained fury, "We know how to kill Hinge-Jaws."

A chill shot up Johnny's spine as he looked at the Sniper lady, who crossed her arms to her chest. He then told her, "Welcome aboard, I guess..." as he looked her in the eye. She gave a nod to Rico, before turning and walking back toward her men. The Buenos Aires native looked to Karl and asked, "Is this a good idea, Karl? Do we even know their allegiance...?"

"They're the best we have to combat the aliens and UNSC. The aliens, they've killed plenty of and the UNSC? They're former soldiers, so it's rather obvious they know their tactics..." Karl replied, crossing his arms to his chest. In truth, it was their best option to fight the UNSC. Anything to give his men a boost, Rico thought as he sighed deeply, staring at the soldiery.

"And if they disobey orders or go AWOL after they beat back the aliens?" He inquired.

Karl snorted, "Well, they'll be dead before they get out of town. They'll have three or four divisions fighting behind them on Zegama." before patting Rico on the shoulder and walking away. The Argentinian was left alone, looking at the squadron with a hint of muted awe and concern. Something about them felt extremely wrong to him, like they didn't want to be here, didn't want to be with them. He hoped he was extremely wrong, but then again...

... Why would they leave their homes? Just for this revenge?