HALO: A shot in the dark

[Gladiator0161]

Gladiator's heart sank a little as his rescuer reported a negative on the friendlies. He almost laughed though when she told him not to thank her yet, as she hadn't fixed him up yet. He drifted to a sort of half sleep as she began reading his diagnostics aloud, that wasn't to last though. He snapped awake a moment later as he was pulled to his feet, his DMR rifle snapped into his trembling hands, ready to blow anything away that moved that wasn't human but, even that little amount of effort made pain shoot up through his chest. He probably had a few bruised ribs. Atleast, he hoped they were only bruised. He could feel his grip on the weapon slipping by the second. Seeing that there was no threat, he put the gun back to it's place on his thigh and let the other Spartan manuever him over to the bus as she kicked the door in and carried him up the stairs. He tried to give her some help but, he was so tired and sore that he wasn't much help, much to his own disappointment. She eased him into a padded bench, trying to get him into a comfortable position, which was hard considering his broad shoulders and his heavy thick armor. Even when he did get into a relatively comfortable position, the leather seating had been torn to shreds.

The Spartan didn't waste time and hooked him up to an IV, then connected it to an artificial blood transfusion bottle. She also gave him some pain killer through the IV drip, and applied some biofoam. He didn't think he needed all that much fixing, apparently he'd been wrong. "I'm must be in worse shape than I thought" Gladiator remarked off-handedly. Gladiator watched as she set more supplies down. Field rations, water, grenades, and a stamped steel can of ammunition joined the medical supplies on the seat of the bus. It was beautiful. Gladiator nodded "believe me, this is good enough for now. None of us have eaten in two days" he paused chuckling, only to grimace a second later "Had to boil water from a toilet to get a man hydrated in fact."

As she turned to face him again, she asked about an SOS signal that she'd picked up and if anyone had been with him during the crash. Gladiator bolted upright, his exhausted mind immediately going to Patric. The blue and gold Spartan seemed to look directly at her as he said "Yes, there was. Sierra three thirty four. Patric. Where'd the signal originate? Did you get a good enough look to determine a direction?"

[ashia starstreak]

A light beeping had caused the marine to wake up. Rubbing her head against her forearm, she tiredly lifted it up and turned her wrist to face her. Her green eyes were just focused enough to see a yellow/green rectangle turn a solid yellow. Bringing her knees closer to her, she brushed aside shards of glass and pushed herself up to her knees. All she wanted to do was sleep, her energy seemed drained. Resting against the wall, she stared lazily down upon the glass scattered upon the blue tile beneath her.


The image she saw staring back at her was of someone she did not recognize. The girl had dark brown hair, green eyes, and tan skin. All of this Shana knew was her own features, but the mirror showed her aged and with a scar at the corner of her mouth. The marine couldn't recall having a scar there. Lifting a hand to her own head, Shana traced the scar upon her face. A flash image of the butt of a rifle splashed across her mind and she immediately released her hand to fall back down to the floor. The memory made little sense to her and she only became more confused.


The longer she sat there, the more she began to wonder where she was. Shana was too tired to get up and look around. Everything around her was unfamilar, and though the light above flickered off and on, she could not move. As if frozen in time, all she could feel was wetness upon her face, the increasing cold air around the room and a growing headache. Just as her eyelids began to grow heavy once more, she distinctively felt someone's hand upon her shoulder. It felt gentle and friendly, but it scared the crap out of the woman. Jolting upright, the woman looked around frantically. She saw no one behind her, found no hand upon her shoulder. All she saw was a large monster of a man laying a foot away. Her wore black and red armor, and though the marine recognized him as a Spartan, she hadn't any idea who he was.


Forcing herself up to her feet, Shana slowly crept toward the giant. Inspect all she wanted, but she didn't understand why this man was here, or who he was. The big guy looked dead, blood trickled out from his mouth, his leg obviously busted. Reaching out her arms cautiously, Shana leaned forward toward the Spartan.


"Shana..." she heard her name coming from behind her. Chills running up and down her spine caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. The woman stopped dead in her tracks and could not deny the panic and fear she felt just then. The voice was not threatening in the least and though she recognized the man's voice, that did not help her in calming down. As liquid filled her eyes, Shana forced herself to turn around.


The lights above flickered once more before complete darkness took over. Pitch black was all the marine could see as she stood there in silence. Her heart pounded inside her, her skin crawled. Where the hell was she? What was going on? Patting her sides she desperately tired locating a flashlight, but found none. Not even a firearm was attached to her. To make matters worse, she began hearing noises outside of the ajar doors of the elevator. It was unkown to her wether a plain noise was more alerting or the skuttling. Her gut twisted, her heart threatened to hop right out of her chest, and she had nothing but a damn combat knife.


..flood..was all she could think of as the noise came closer to her. Pulling forth the blade with hands that trembled, she fought back her fear. No..not me.. she thought and with an exceptional guess, she lunged forward and shoved the blade deep into the floor. A squeek was all she heard to let her know she had managed to hit her blind mark.


Frantically Shana felt around the elevator for a gun, but she found something round instead. Her fingers traced it and after a moment, the marine realized it was a helmet. Picking it up, Shana placed it upon her head and strapped it on snug. Tinkering with the options her couldn't believe how little the helmet was capable of doing. Surely this was not her helmet...Turning on the flashlight, her green eyes darted to the combat knife. It had impaled a rat. Upon further inspection, the marine could find nothing wrong with the creature. There was no indication of infection, no tentacles sticking out like a sore thumb. The only thing that seemed different about this rat than others was the size. This was a simple NYC sewer rat, naturally large, probably with its natural known diseases, but no flood infection.


Shana let out a slow and deep sigh of relief and freed her blade from its corpse. Lifting herself back up to her feet, the marine looked back to the spartan. She held the knife defensively as she reapproached the giant. Just because the rat was clear, did not make this man safe. Feeling Hunter's chest armor she searched for any signs of infection. There was nothing, but what she did find was a small vial protruding out of his breast plate. Placing a gloved finger over it she recieved another memory of how that tube got there, but she was still confused. Her mind was still stuck unknowingly in the past and Hunter's pressence made little sense to her. Smearing the blood on her forehead she rubbed it tenderly, her headache didn't help her in the least.


Groaning lightly, she placed her combat knife back in its place on her shoulder sheeth. Shana brought a hand cautiously to the spartan's neck and patiently waited for the sign of life. Upon feeling a heart beat, she felt another relieved sigh coming on. She was about to attempt to get the man to wake up when she heard the voice again.


"..Shana...over here..."


Whirling around, Shana eyed the elevator doors. The same voice calling for her. Was she crazy? This man...he was dead. So how was it possible for him to call out to her? Pulling herself away from Hunter, the marine cautiously walked to the space between the elevator doors. Pulling out her knife once more, she peeked out into the room on the otherside. It was dark, a faint glow from a screen was all that she could see without the use of her helmet's flashlight. There was no body there..but she heard the voice  coming from there so surely he was...Slipping her upper body though the space between the elevator doors, Shana nearly made it out completely when she was stopped by her bottom. The short woman cursed her round ass and placed the knife back in its sheeth as she struggled getting past the doors. Stumbling forward, Shana was unable to balance out and fell onto the cold concrete of the floor.


Moaning, the marine shook it off and stood back up. She walked around the room, but could not see anyone there. The place looked deserted. Most of the cabinets were flung open, whatever it once held was now missing. Upon further inspection, Shana realized this place was a med bay. The woman looked up to the vents and studied them carefully. They showed no signs of rupture nor were they boarded up. It was very unusual for her, and the woman slowly began to doubt her surroundings.


"What the hell is going on..?" she whispered to herself and marched her way to the glowing screen coming from a cubicle. The walls of the area were very short only reaching four and a half feet and the woman guessed it was strictly used just to keep each area seperate from the other and not meant for much privacy. Pulling out a chair from the desk Shana looked to the bed beside her, it looked stiff and uncomfortable. She pulled herself forward to the desk in front of her and inspected the screen. Moving the mouse to the computer caused the UNSC screensaver to disappear and show her it's plain desktop setting. The woman eyed the time and date and just couldn't compute what she was seeing. Was this some sort of sick joke the UNSC was playing? The time showed several years into the future of her current mind set.


"No...it can't be.." she said leaning back in the chair. For the first time since she awoke, Shana tested out her Comms and leaned forward once more to rest her elbows onto the desk. "This is First Lieutenant Shana Wasser  requesting platoon status' and mission standing."


Whatever was going on, Shana was certain her company would know, but when Jacobs' voice came through, the woman's heart stopped. "Sh..Shana? This is Sergeant Jacobs...are you okay?"


She didn't know a Sergeant Jacobs, she did however know a Private Jacobs...did she hear wrong? "You say Sergeant Jacobs?"


"Yeah...Shana where are you? I just picked up Private 589; O'brian, give me your cordinates and we'll meet up. We'll get that Spartan patched up and-"


The woman didn't hear anything else as she took off her helmet and inspected it. This helmet wasn't someone else's nor was it malfunctioning..this was her helmet...and she wasn't a First Lieutenant anymore. The lack of flood infection, the injured Spartan, the scar upon her face, the date on the computer...it all began to make sense now. Her hands began shaking as the memories flooded into her. The past of failing to keep her company alive, and seeing each of them dying before her eyes. Having to relive such a horrifying memory in such a short span drove Shana over the edge.


Standing up, the chair flung back and hit the floor. Clutching the helmet tightly within her grasp, tears escaped her eyes and anger replaced all other emotions. With a growl of rage, the woman threw the helmet across the room and turned around to pick up her chair. Adrenaline rushing through her, she picked it up and swung it against the wall. Like a person high on Phencyclidine, Shana could not grip reality and time. She couldn't feel the pain in her fist when she punched a metal cabinet and dented it inwards. Her heartbeat could not be controlled with her slow, shallow and irregular breathing. For that mere moment she never felt so alone. She threw several more punches to the misshapen cabinet and backed off. Standing still, she tensed her arms, her knuckles dripped blood past the black cloth of her glove upon the concrete, her eyes clouded with anger.


As something rolled down to her and stopped against her boot, Shana looked down at it. A can with the words 'biofoam' stared up at her and at that sight, the marine began to regain her composure as she remembered Hunter. Her facial features softening, the woman picked up the can and looked back to the elevator. With so little light, she could barely see the ajar doors. Double timing it, Shana picked up her helmet from the ground and placed it back on her head. She strapped it on securely and squeezed her way back into the elevator room.


Lightly kicking his good foot, she inched closer to the spartan and stuck the can in between her thighs. "Hey wake up, We gotta get you out of here." she said kneeling down beside him, she brought her hands up to his face. Her light beamed right on him as she inspected his eyes for any sign of movement. Her right bloodied hand slapped him gently. "Come on big guy, wake up."

[Hunter Phoenix]

Hunter was on Reach, his birth place and home world. He had just finished his training, he was a Spartan, one of the finest warriors in the universe, bred from conception to be a fighting machine. War was the norm in the galaxy with the UNSC fighting the evil forces of the Covenant as they tried to exterminate the human race from the face of the universe like they were some kind of vermin.

Hunter was sent out on his first mission as a fully fledged Spartan, his armour gleaming red and black against the sun as it rose over the mountain tops bringing about the new day. He was ready for this the way he had been ready for this his entire life, from the moment he was thrust into the training rooms to the moment he was handed his armour and serial number. He hefted his battle rifle and charged with a dozen other Spartans into the midst of battle against the Covenant invaders. His brother and friend Gladiator beside him, the duo were unstoppable, tearing aliens apart with their weapons and hands, they tag teamed anything they came across.

Caught up in the heat of battle and the adrenaline flowing through him, a red mist settled in Hunters vision and he gave himself over to the rage he felt towards these invaders that had come from far away to terminate the innocent civilians on his planet, along with the Spartans themselves, these crimes would not go unpunished.

Once his battle rifle was spent of ammo and he had no reserves for it, he brought up his shotgun from his belt and let rip with it straight into the face of an elite that charged him. The bullets firing in close proximity of one another, blasting through the Elites shield and straight into its face, taking half of its head off. Its carcass fell away and Hunter charged into the next major battle zone, a group of marines helping the Spartan force take on the Covenant onslaught. He took out several grunts with a broad swing of his shotgun, decapitating them with his powerful swing.

Because of the adrenaline pumping through his system, he barely felt any of the minor wounds he picked up as his armour was penetrated with fire from the enemy weapons. All he wanted to do was avenge Reach before it fell.

All of a sudden, he was hit across the back of his helmet with a mighty blow, knocking him down to the ground and almost sending him into blackness. He turned over onto his back to find a red armoured elite looking down on him, an energy sword in it's hand and an evil grin on its face. He knew this would be the end, so soon after he had become a Spartan. Before he could do anything in retaliation, he heard someone call to him in the distance and a hand hit him in the face with a force that made him start.

He was confused, why would someone call out to him in the middle of the battle if he were about to fall to an elite?
He heard the voice again, softer this time, female. He looked around as the final moments of his life replayed in slow motion, the elites sword coming down to him, the battle all around him, explosions, gun and plasma fire being exchanged. He felt the slap on his face again...and someone talking too him......

He woke up with a start, disorientated, bringing his arms up to cover his face from the elite that was going to end him, send him to the afterlife to be with all of the other marines and Spartans that had given their lives to the continued existence of the human race. When it didn't come, he looked through a gap in his arms and closed his eyes when a light blinded him.

He tasted blood and tried to move but his body complained and was wracked with pain so he had to stay still, but he let his arms fall. What had happened to him? Where was he? Was he dead?

"Come on big guy, wake up."

The words brought it all crashing down on him in a wave of reality. He remembered the elevator, passing out, Shana....

"Sha..." he muttered, barely able to speak as his mouth had filled with blood. He turned his head a little and spat it out.

"Shan....Shana? Where the hell are we"

He was still confused, memories fading in and out of his first battle as a full Spartan. He couldn't see anything other than a bright light that made his eyes stay closed. He could barely breathe.

[Sushi]

Even with her stony attitude, Valkyrie enjoyed the idle chatter. Unlike many of the S-2s, she was a social creature and enjoyed contact with people. At the query about the SOS signal, though concerned the spartan could only shake her head. "Not an exact. We'll still have to do a sweep."

She checked the zero on her rifle's sight and screwed on the suppressor. A neat pile of magazines was their only supply of ammo until they could scavenge more. Gladiator perhaps looked even more tired than when she had found him initially. "I know you're concerned about Patric," she started, the mention of the name catching the fatigued spartan's attention. "But we need to be as combat capable as we can, so we're not a liability when we find him. And I'm absolutely certain we will. Nothing that would kill a spartan would leave enough left for some SOS signal."

She wasn't one for bravado, but morale was perhaps their most crucial asset. That was something cemented into Valkyrie's mind, after witnessing the individual bravery of thousands of UNSC personnel. Even the Spartan-IIs, from the menacing appearance of their armor to the tradition of marking all casualties as "Missing in Action" were designed ultimately to give humanity the drive it needed to survive. An officer had once told her that the individual Spartan mattered much less than the fact that they were there in the first place - sometimes the towering armor and protocol was all that really defined them in a mission.

Of course, they were all human on the inside. Valkyrie handed the other spartan a canteen, then dug a bar of chocolate from her field pack. It was a cheap candy bar taken from one of the stores on the Hercules. Though it didn't last well in hot weather and could stick to fingers and the packaging, it was more importantly a reminder there was something besides wearing to the bone fighting Covenant or juggling the logistical challenges of ammunition and rations.

She had wanted to keep it for a metaphorical rainy day, but right now was good enough. "Sleep if you can. I'll stand watch."

[TyKing]

PFC Fry weighed his options and came to the conclusion that they all sucked. Who am I kidding, all my options have sucked since this fiasco began, the combat tech thought as he listened to the enemy moving closer to where he was laying. I can lay here and die when they find me, or I can fight and die and maybe, just maybe I might survive. He doubted it. Survival seemed out of his reach. It was then that PFC Matt Fry made an important decision.

I'm not going out like a bitch.

Grabbing the butt of the weapon that was sticking out of the pile of rubble in front of him, Matt turned to find a couple of grunts present themselves at close range. His movement had surprised the Covenant foot soldiers, who jumped back and raised their weapons. Both died in a stream of lead from the rifle that Fry had procured. Matt scrambled to his feet, reeled in pain as his side began to ache something fierce then stumbled through the rubble towards the rear of the building. Along the way he picked up some supplies that had scattered like detritus when the crazed ODST had been killed. Two energy bars, an extra clip for the rifle and a small battered medkit were what he walked away with, but Fry was grateful nonetheless.

He loped out of the building, stopped to catch his breath then continued moving away from the area as quickly as his unsteady feet could carry him. Eventually Fry came to a set of stairs that led downward to an old subway platform. The subway transportation system had long been shut down but some of the areas had been converted to museums or restaurants. The combat tech didn't care what the building was, all he knew was that it offered some protection. A rumbling noise interrupted his thoughts and Fry looked up to see a Wraith tank moving around the corner of a building farther down the street. The Covenant hadn't seen him yet and Fry made another crucial decision.

I'm not going out like an idiot.

Scrambling down the steps, the marine descended into the darkness. He used the tactical light on the rifle to make his way to what turned out to be a cigar shop and a restaurant. Fry limped through the cigar shop and grabbed a handful of Cohibas, which he stuffed in his pocket, before entering the restaurant and sliding to the floor behind the bar. Turning the light toward his side, the marine was able to inspect his wound for the first time. The ODST's bullet had hit his body armor and been deflected but had managed to cut a channel along his hip which was oozing blood. Opening the medkit, Fry extracted a small canister of antiseptic biofoam and sprayed it along the wound.

"Gnnaahh!" the marine grunted before grabbing a bottle from the bar and taking a long swig to help alleviate the pain that coursed through his hip and thigh. The foam immediately sealed the wound but the antiseptic burned like the Devil. After some of the discomfort subsided, Matt opened one of the energy bars and began to eat, washing it down with some booze. It wasn't regulation but Fry had already decided that regulations were a luxury he couldn't afford.

[Gladiator0161]

He sighed as she reported that she didn't have an exact location for the SOS. The big blue and gold Spartan 2 listened as his new partner gave him a pep-talk. He appreciated it more than he could say. So, he just nodded as she told him to get some rest and that she'd take first watch "You're right. I'm not much use to anybody if I can't shoot straight" he sighed, accepting that for the moment that Private Fry and Patric would have to wait. Looking up to her as she handed him the canteen of water, he reached out and took it from her waiting hand "Thanks. For the canteen, and the pep-talk..." he paused a moment, unsure if next words would carry the sincerity that he felt "I appreciate it." He removed his damaged blue Scout helmet and turned it over in his hands to look at the cracked gold visor. Gladiator sighed again and set in his lap, he barely recognized the reflection in the visor. Bags under his exhausted looking blue eyes, his features were still handsome but, less so because of how pale he was. He raised the canteen to his pale lips and took slow sips from the container.

The cold temperature of the liquid within made him cough, he covered his mouth quickly and wiped his mouth. He grimaced in pain, his ribs were still sore, as was everything else but, he started sipping at the canteen again a moment later. The cold liquid was refreshing and very very welcome. Gladiator stopped a few moments later, and felt the weight of the canteen, comparing it to how it had felt when it was full. He figured that he'd probably drank a quarter of what was in there, leaving more than half in reserve for later. The Spartan replaced the canteen's top and leaned back against the seat, forcing himself to relax.

He raised his head a moment later "Wake me the moment anything happens, and I mean anything, alright?" When he got a nod from her in reply, he leaned his head back against the seat and fell instantly to sleep. Almost immediately dreams set in. His mind flashed him images of Harvest, battling the Covenant there, the burning fields as Covenant Cruisers blasted the earth with their plasma cannons, himself kneeling in front of a burned tree, the dead couple leaning against it. His own dead eyes looking back at him. His 'original' holding hands with the love of his life. Then his dreams drifted into more memories. This time though, it was memories of Reach. He'd been assigned there immediately after the Battle of Harvest. He was to get his own customized armor and rearm himself once he got there, as his nickname of Gladiator had already gotten around. His mind flashed back to a memory of Harvest, back before he found out by accident that he, like every other Spartan, was a clone.

It had been raining the day he'd come into his nickname. The Covenant had glassed a whole in the earth, the edges of which made a unnatural arena like area. During the battle, he'd been separated from his squad. An Elite in white and gold armor had brandished an Energy Blade that crackled and sparked with each rain drop that hit it's surface. The squid face had charged at him, and he'd managed to take down it's shields before it swung it's arm in an arch, hoping to split him into two equal parts, and if he hadn't had sidestepped to avoid the blow, that's just what would've happened. Fortunately for him, the Elite missed. Gladiator had bounced back on the balls of his feet and struck out with his fist, which connected with the Elite's four pronged jaw. The Elite turned to look at him with those evil yellow orange eyes, and he swore the damn thing had smiled. Their fight was long and exhausting, and they had both eventually ended up in the still burning crater. He remembered gutting the Elite with his own Energy Blade and the feeling of victory and satisfaction he'd got from it. Then he'd looked up to see more Elites surrounding the crater. Evil smiles on every damned one of them, as if the fight for survival was suddenly a game. They had thought that sending two Elites against him would be enough at first, and when he'd dispatched those, they sent more. When Ares, Hunter, Kunai, and Vladicus had finally shown up, driving or killing off the spectators, he'd been fighting five Elites. Three of them had engaged him freely, one of which wielded two Covenant Energy Blades, while two others held to the outskirts of the fighting, prodding the fight this way and that so that it kept in the middle of the crater. They'd been having fun.

He remembered provoking the dual wielding Elite, and grabbing his arms at the wrists as the alien brought both hands up to chop his head off. Then twisting the alien's wrists forcefully at the same time, breaking the bones and twisting away with two Energy Swords in his hands. It had been really hard to get used to the feeling of wielding air, as the energy portion of the blades held little, if any weight, especially since he was in a combat situation. He'd overestimated his own strength and almost killed himself a time or two.
Eventually, five Elites dwindled down to 4, and four to three. And then there'd been none. More Elites rushed him then, growling their war cries and vying for blood. Ares though, had used his MK 5 Rocket Launcher and blown the group to hell, while he'd ducked into his recharged Armor Lock. When he had reached the top of the crater, Ares was there, pulling him up, that shady skull imprint on his black visor glowing eerily in the reflection of the fires around them.

He remembered the jovial words that started the nickname perfectly "Well, well! Looks like we got ourselves a Gladiator! Heh heh."
Despite all the fighting, all the death, Harvest, his home, had been lost.

A week later on Reach, he dawned his customized blue and gold armor, with the gold visored Scout helmet, only to be called to defend it as well.

Despite the vivid dreams, Gladiator remained asleep, only muttering a few insensible words every now and then, like the names of his old squad members. Ares, Hunter, Kunai, and Vladicus.

[ashia starstreak]

As the spartan began to react to Shana's actions, she froze and watched him a moment. Reaching up to her helmet, the marine turned off her flashlight and turned on her night vision. "Hey big guy, so glad you could join me.  I was beginning to think you took the easy way out and left me to rot. What's your status? Any new injuries since our fall?" she asked the giant and looked around the room.


The place was thrashed. Broken glass scattered the area, the impact having shattered the mirrors around the room. The elevator doors busted, unable to close. The ceiling was bowing inward making the marine slightly nervous. It made no creaks or groans, but the sight was enough to make one believe it was on the verge of collapsing. The button panel and its monitor showed no sign of life, the light that should have been glowing was nothing more than a darkened area.


"Come on, we gotta get you outta here." Shana said looking back to Hunter. Picking up his helmet, she set it in his lap and rose to her feet. Walking to the railing, Shana placed a boot firmly onto the wall and gripped the bar tightly. With all her might she heaved and tugged on the object. Failing..she took a moment to breath. She took in the air slowly, her head throbbed as if it had its own heartbeat. Regripping the rail, Shana pushed with her foot and pulled with her arms until she was able to place her other foot onto the wall as well. Grunting and groaning she tried, "Rrrr cooome on you stupiiid thiiing." she grumbled at it. Suddenly there was a pop and the woman fell to the ground as the bar lost it's hold onto the wall. With a plop and a cling, the marine held her tail bone a moment, her eyes darting to the ceiling in a panic.


The roof did not move, it did not creak. Sighing obnoxiously, Shana sat up and stared at the bar at her feet. "I'm getting too old for this shit.." She whispered and stood up. Bending over, Shana picked up the bar and walked to the ajar elevator doors. The marine wedged the railing into the space between the door and surface. She made sure it was stuck in its angle before hopping up to the end of the bar and dangled. Jerking her body in downward motions she forced the door to open more. Feeling it was big enough to get the spartan through, Shana released herself and landed back down. The door immediately slid back to its original place.


The woman gawked at the door in disbelief. "Oh you some beach." she commented shaking her head. Shaking a finger at the door she smiled crookedly. "Think yer clever do ya? I'll show you.." Moving back to the railing she pushed it forward and leaned it against the other door. She flexed her fingers, her knuckles stung reminding her of her encounter with the metal cabinet not so long ago. Jumping up once more, Shana jerked downward and lodged the pipe securely in place, pushing back both doors a few inches. Droping to the ground, the marin dusted off her gloved hands in approval. She waited for the doors to move again, but they remained still.


"That's what I thought..okay you ready to go Spartan? There's a nice comfy bed on the other side of this here door." She tempted the giant as she walked over to him. The bed she had spotted didn't look all that inviting, however, it might've been better than the cold concrete.


*****


"Jeeze Sarg, that stings..like a thousand fire ants just crawled into my flesh!" O'brian exagerrated over the irritation he felt as Jacobs properly bandaged up his wound from last night.

"Oh I'm sorry princess, guess I forgot to tell ya it would sting." the sergeant commented shaking his head slightly as he placed the biofoam can back into his chest pocket. He looked over the plasma shoulder wound a moment longer before covering it up with an ace bandage. Jacobs was convinced the injury was no big deal and that no one would have guessed he had told a private to dress it earlier.

The lanky private looked over Jacobs a moment before batting his eyelashes. "Am I a pretty princess?" he joked. If the sergeant was going to call him a princess why not play the part?

Jacobs wasn't sure how to react to that question. His eyebrow rose, his lips parted slightly. Shaking his head he pushed the young soldier away and moved passed him. "Yer just about the ugliest I've seen yet. Count your ammo and reload, we're moving out." he said and looked down at the dead private upon the floor. The gaping hole was the only thing Jacobs could make out from the back of the head. It wasn't a friendly sight, but Jacobs was thankful to the Spartans that took down the snipers so he could get to O'brian. Though now he wondered just where they were off to in such a hurry.

"Ouch..Sarg yer so mean to me. I might just switch platoons." O'brian remarked with a fake sniffle. He rubbed his shoulder, the biofoam had made it numb now and he felt like he had been cured. Though even he knew, the effects were temporary.

Picking up the assault rifle, Jacobs checked the ammo count and handed it to O'brian. "Oh I'm sure Michaels would love to have you in his platoon.." he commented and began walking toward the stairs. He wanted to get a move on before any more covenant showed up. Shana sounded strange over the last comm call and he just had to find out what was up and if the injured Spartan was okay.

O'brian fell in beside the coward and the other male private as they all began to follow the sergeant. "Wait...isn't Michaels the bad-tempered one?" he asked looking to the two beside him. The male private had raised eyebrows and an expresion that suggested O'brian was crazy to have not known that as he nodded his head.

"Oh damn, did I say mean? I meant yer too good to me Sarg." O'brian said as he inspected the assault rifle that was given to him before he hurried up to walk beside his leader.

Jacobs only shook his head. He didn't know much about Michaels himself, but had heard a rumor or two about the other sergeant. If Jacobs had to say anything about the man, it would be that he was antagonistic and they had very different ideas on how to run a platoon.

[Hunter Phoenix]

Hunter coughed and more blood seeped out of his partially open mouth. The difficulty to breath and the stabbing pain in his chest indicated that when they had landed on the bottom floor, his broken rib had crumpled and punctured a lung. He could barely keep conscious and his leg felt worse than ever, he was sure that it was either even more broken than before, or the bone had shattered completely. He looked to Shana through half closed eyes.

"I've seen better days, lung possibly punctured due to impalement by rib. Leg broken in several places, possibly shattered. Can barely keep conscious. Breathing difficult"

He held onto his helmet when it was placed into his lap, almost certain that this was his end, that he would die here with the marine trying to help him. He wondered how the others were doing, hopefully better than he was.

Shana mentioned a bed of some kind and his spirits lifted a little. He tried his best to move, but his chest groaned under the effort and he had to stop. He had a better idea and slowly slid down onto his side, then used his arms to pull himself into a lying down position, even though it was on his chest, which pushed his pain levels up even more, he steadied himself and carefully army crawled himself out of the elevator. He didn't like being like this, but so long as he got out of the elevator, he would do whatever he could. He then wondered if Shana was ok, so he looked up to her as best he could from his position

"Are you alright? Any injuries?"

(OOC: Sorry for this crap post, I couldn't think of much)

[Sushi]

It was quiet. Not the deafening quiet that made up the majority of red-eye military nightmares, but the not-quite silence that was the gentle songs of wind blowing by and the soft noises of sleep. No matter where one got assigned to, there were always moments of tranquility to be found. It was just one of the tiny things that kept a Spartan sane through the mental trials of war.

When the evening started to melt into night and the sun sunk under the horizon, Valkyrie replaced her helmet and moved to wake Gladiator. "I'm going to rack out for three hours. Wake me up then and we'll find Patric." She moved to the end of the bus and leaned against a bulkhead, staring at the expanse of road beyond through a gap in the wall. Finally, Valkyrie removed her helmet. She justified a human face as being slightly less recognizable at distance than the bulky helmet, but the only honest reason was that the breeze was nicer than the suit's climate-control. She needed that.

Even as Valkyrie relaxed the spartan's hands never left her weapon.

[Gladiator0161]

The big blue and gold armored Spartan II began sweating, as the dreams intensified and turned more and more violent. It wasn't just one battle that he was dreaming about now. It was all of them. The battles mixed and swam randomly throughout his head, making the experience that much worse. Soon Gladiator awakened to Valkyrie's prompting, his reflexes kicked in immediately. He grabbed up his DMR in one smooth movement and aimed it at first at Valkyrie, then at door of the bus when he recognized her as an ally. The movement ripping the seat that he had been laying in to shreds. Valkyrie thankfully had moved to a safe distance. "Sorry about that. Nightmares" Gladiator said simply running a gloved hand over his face and wiping the sweat away. The image of Alexandria City's streets on Reach flooded with blood from his dream, remained in his head. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick but, fortunately it didn't get that far.

Valkyrie told him that she was going to rack in three hours of sleep and that afterward she'd be ready to search for Patric. Gladiator nodded and put on his helmet, set his alarm for three hours from now, and turned on the night-vision on his HUD "Rodger that. I'll wake you before if anything comes up. Pleasant dreams." He watched as she moved to the back of the bus, noticing that she had a nicely curving figure. She leaned against a wall, and few minutes later she removed her helmet, revealing short dark hair and grey eyes. He took a quick look outside, scanning their surroundings to make sure no one was sneaking up on them before looking back to Valkyrie, and examining her features. She was actually very beautiful, not a scar on her face. That fact alone made her either impressively skilled, or almost new to the Spartan program. Since he'd heard of her before, he went with impressively skilled. Twenty minutes later, while Valkyrie was asleep, Gladiator removed his helmet with a sigh, taking the opportunity to enjoy fresh air while nothing was happening.

Quiet moments like this was a rarity and each one had to be savored. They never lasted long. He needed more sleep but, they were in an exposed position at the moment. He needed to remain awake. For about two hours, his sense of duty and responsibility, coupled with checking their perimeter through the sights of his Sniper Rifle, kept his eyes from drooping but, after that he needed to do something to keep himself awake. Quiet was nice but, it was also incredibly boring after awhile. He leaned forward and crouch crawled his way to the kicked in door to make himself smaller, and sat down in the aisle beside the front two seats. He took his helmet off again and looked inside the piece of armor. He used the moonlight that drifted in through the doorway but, couldn't see anything wrong on the interior. The Spartan II turned the helmet around slowly in his hand and examined it's shape. The damage was extensive. He'd never be able to use HR/RS sniper attachment that was positioned on the top of his helmet again, it had been smashed and the components inside were shattered.

He could hear them rattle around inside when he moved the helmet in his hand. The section of the helmet where the comms were installed had a good sized gash in it, wiring and chips exposed but, at-least they were serviceable based on their appearance. Now if we only had a tech he thought wryly, giving a small amused smile. He set the helmet in his lap and looked past the plasma scarred windshield of the bus, and into the night sky. At times like this, when the world was at peace, it was hard to imagine that there was a war raging. A light from his helmet caught his attention and he regretfully tore his gaze away from the star studded sky. The alarm had gone off. Time to move he thought grimly. He put his feet underneath him and walked to the back of the bus to wake Valkyrie.

Gladiator stepped closer, reaching a hand out to grab her shoulder to gently wake her but, then hesitated. He looked at her for a moment, taking in every detail as she slept peacefully in her seat, her hand on her weapon. He smiled and put a hand on her shoulder as he gently shook her and whispered loud enough for her to hear "Hey. Valkyrie. Sorry to wake you but, it's time to move."

[Sushi]

"But can't you tell me your name?" The boy frowned.

The girl shook her head. "Sorry, no can do." Her grey eyes were filled with... something. Almost mirth, but not quite. She stepped along the lush grass and fell in step with the Pierre. She liked him - he was a sweet boy with infectious laughter and a spring to his step. He said he didn't like the hazel eyes he had, they made him look too serious. She thought they just made him look thoughtful. "So what's the plan?"

"Dunno. Do we need one?" He laughed heartily. "I was thinking ice cream."

"Isn't it a little cool for that?"

Pierre shrugged lazily. "Ice cream tastes better when it's cool."

She raised a brow. "Really now?"

"Really. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it." The girl smiled a little. She blinked as the edges of her vision blurred, and the boy seemed to fade for a moment. She desperately clenched her eyes shut, balling up her fists in concentration.

"Is something bothering you?" Pierre asked, turning to face the girl as he stepped backwards. Light shed by the two suns obscured Pierre's face as he stood against the horizon, perched on miles and miles of lush grass.

"I... gotta go now."

Surprisingly, he smiled. "It's just a dream, right?"

"Yeah... I guess. But I might not..." She couldn't say it, like admitting the idea that she might not see him again would solidify the fact.

"Don't worry bout it." She saw that same reassuring grin, those thoughtful eyes filled with mirth. "Hey, I hate to ask, but can you tell me..."

Her face was wet. Was in the sun in her eyes? "It's Fran."

"Oh, cool." He raised his hand, waving at her. He seemed so far away now.

The girl waved back, but the the colors of the dream were fading and she was staring at the floor of the same burned-out bus she had sat down in three hours ago.

Valkyrie wiped the wetness from her face and scooped up her helmet, staring at her reflection in its visor before pulling it on. She took a ragged breath and stood up straight. With a quick flick of the fingers she checked the chamber on her MA-5K and turned to Gladiator. "We should have given you more rest." The spartan stepped past him and went to work, scooping up the supplies and equipment she had placed earlier. Glancing at the other, fatigued spartan she pressed a steel can of ammo into his hands. "Double check your load. We'll move out in five mikes." As hard as she tried, her tone was stressed, terse.

[Gladiator0161]

Gladiator smiled beneath his helmet "I'll be fine, don't worry. I'm just grateful that I was finally able to rest, and I have you to thanks for that" he said as he moved aside for her, as she went to gather up the equipment she'd placed on the bus. He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze as he said "thanks." He helped her gather up the equipment and accepted the offered ammo the other Spartan II pressed into his hands. The time counter on his HUD told him that it was nearly midnight. Despite his reassuring words, he really was starting to feel the fatigue, especially now that he'd actually had a chance to sleep. He went over the mission again in his head, trying to clear the fog that hovered about. They'd spent tree days in a over run New York City, on the run and fighting the Covenant. They'd lost several members of their team but, fortunately some reinforcements had arrived. Their original mission had been to take over a Covenant Cruiser that had been hovering over the mega-city. It had escaped and gone into Slip-space. They'd been able to take out a couple of comm jammers and had new orders awaiting them but, first, they were to rescue Private Matthew Fry, and Patric, if possible.

He reloaded his DMR rifle as he thought through the last couple days, and stuffed more ammo into the hidden ammo compartments in his armor. Gladiator stepped off the bus first, taking the lead and checking to see if there were any hostiles in their immediate area. Fortunately, there weren't any on the bridge itself. There were patrols guarding both the front and back of the bridge though, with a Wraith Tank making slow but, predictable rounds in about a three block radius on the side that Private Fry was on. Gladiator hefted his Sniper Rifle and pointed to the end of the bridge "We've got a Wraith Tank patrolling a three block radius, and some Covenant infantry guarding the bridge. They probably came to find out what happened to their missing soldiers. Looks like they just got here, they're still giving orders" he lowered the weapon and looked to Valkyrie.

"I can probably take out their infantry but, the Wraith Tank is going to be a problem if we time this wrong. Any ideas?" Gladiator asked.

[Sushi]

Valkyrie toggled the enhanced magnification in her visor, taking in the covenant armor in increased detail. "It's an older model. Lacks the plasma repeater for infantry defense. Looks like the cooling vents in the back have slat armor." In short - it was going to make more sense to attack this one at close range than try to play sniper with their limited supply of rockets. Speaking of sniper. "I'd like to get closer and pick off the escorts, then disable the armor. Would you mind lending me the SRS99?" The weapon looked damaged, but Gladiator wasn't going to be able to utilize both rifles at once.

[Gladiator0161]

Gladiator peered through the SRS99's scope and nodded "Good catch, looks like you're right" he looked up at her as she asked to barrow his Sniper Rifle. He hesitated but, only for a moment before he nodded and handed the Sniper Rifle over to her. He had a particular attachment for the long range weapons, not only were they one of his favorite weapons, but, they gave him a great advantage whenever he needed to learn the enemy's formation and security weaknesses in the field. The weapons allowed him to come up with solid tactical plans where mission intelligence was lacking.

"Alright, well if you're going to use the SRS, then I'll take your Rocket Launcher and take care of the Wraith," Gladiator said looking to Valkyrie "unless you had something else in mind." He grabbed the DMR from his thigh and prepared himself to reenter combat again.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gunnery Sergeant Desmond Rockwell

Sling limped along the street, trying to keep as much weight off of his broken leg as was reasonably possible. Fortunately, he'd found a Brute's Gravity Hammer weapon about a half block away. He'd been using it as a crutch ever since. He'd lost a Mauler, and a pistol in the chaos of the wrecked building but, fortunately he still had his shotgun, one Mauler, and one pistol. Sling had the pistol out as he limped up the street to the last known location of his team. Sling chuckled a little when found that the building they'd taken cover in was actually a mall. He hadn't remembered that little detail, of-course with the Covenant on their heels details like that were harder to remember than others. When he finally got there, he found it had been abandoned, the entrance blown open by Shana's trap, a frag grenade that had been taped to the door. The Wraith Tank that Hunter and Gladiator had taken over was still there though. He followed a trail of debris that led to an empty elevator shaft, it was obvious from the debris' pattern that there'd been a struggle. Plasma scoring marred the walls and doors to an elevator shaft. He raised his pistol and looked for any signs of a cloaked Elite. As he looked around, he saw clothing shops, supply, and video stores with their sliding metal guard walls down but, their display windows had been smashed open and the doors behind them kicked, or blown inward. Their interiors probably looted by desperate civilians. As he limped along, he saw that the inside of the stores were a mess, and there were plasma scoring on the walls and merchandise.

The ODST slowly limped over to the wrecked elevator doors, and cautiously he grabbed the side to peer over the edge. He flicked on his nightvision and saw that the elevator cable had been cut. The elevator itself lay at the bottom of the shaft, it's frame dented and smashed in. He hit the zoom on his visor and saw that a bar had been wedged into the doors to keep them open. The inside of the elevator was a mess, glass and debris were strewn all over the floor. Just past the wrecked roof of the elevator, he could just barely make out the shapes of two Humans. One was incredibly larger than the other.

He tried his comms and hoped that they weren't broken "This is Gunnery Sergeant Sling calling any and all UNSC personnel, anyone currently occupying the bottom of an elevator shaft? Shana? Hunter? Is that you down there?" Suddenly movement set off his motion tracker and he whirled as best as he could on his good leg, pistol raised, to stare into the face of a scowling Elite. Sling fired the pistol in his hand three times before the alien got to him and tackled him, sending them both into the dark depths of the elevator shaft. As they fell, he saw the Gravity Hammer that he'd been using as a crutch fall past them and land on the roof of the elevator head first before bouncing and dropping through the hole and into the elevator itself to clatter behind Hunter. Sling reached out and grabbed at the elevator cable, and finally after a few seconds managed to grab hold, his hand burning from the rough material from the cable combined with his quick decent. Ignoring the pain, he gripped the cable tighter and finally came to a halt above the severed end of the cable. The Elite lost it's grip on him and fell the rest of the way down howling in fury. Sling fortunately still had his pistol in hand and fired round after round at the alien, the bullets pinging off it's shields before finally draining them. The Elite impacted the roof of the elevator with a loud thundering crash. Sling fired his pistol until the clip was empty. The impact on the elevator had killed the Elite but, it still felt good shooting the lifeless corpse. He tossed the pistol into the elevator with frustration.

He swung over to the corner of the shaft, grimacing as his broken leg protested the movement, and gripped the metal stud there, hanging on for dear life. Slowly, and cautiously, he made his way down, using the metal stud to secure himself to the wall. Finally, after a few minutes, he stood on the roof of the elevator, and slid down slowly, his back against the wall and just sighed. If felt good having his feet on solid ground again.

He rolled over on his good leg and peered over the edge of the hole at Shana and Hunter's backside"Did you miss me?"

[ashia starstreak]

The woman watched the Spartan curiously as he crawled past her toward the exit. She knew the man was in pain and that made her wonder why he moved on his own. Shana was small, yes, but had she not dragged the giant into the elevator once before? Perhaps he was proud and stubborn. Surely Shana could not interfer with those characteristics. After all, she suffered the same thing.

Shrugging inwardly, the marine manuvered her way past Hunter. If he was strong enough to move alone, she felt no need to help him. Though, her actions to ignore this made her itch. She looked back down at the man upon the floor and fought her inner thoughts. Phh..The guy's a big bad spartan..leave him be..crawled this far alone..Hmm.. Against the idea of watching someone of her team suffer, she frowned lightly and kneeled beside the Spartan.

"I'll be fine..you on the other hand..well, don't get me wrong, nothin' wrong with being proud but seeing you like this embarasses me. Suck it up and let me help you." Shana told the giant. It wasn't the most sensitive approach, she would admit, but she wasn't sure how else to handle it without making her sound as if he needed to be babied. Creeping closer to the man, Shana held out her hands for him to grasp.

[Hunter Phoenix]

Hunter stopped to get his breath back, it hurt to move but he had to lighten the burden of Shana by moving on his own, however, when she offered a hand and told him to suck it up, he nodded and took her hand.

"You sure do have a way with words Private, I appreciate the help though, I would be dead if it weren't for you"

Holding onto her hand, he took some steadying breaths and prepared to move again. He maneuvered his good leg and tried to push himself into a crouching position.

[ashia starstreak]

As Shana gripped onto Hunter's hand, her comm-lines came to life. The sounds and actions becoming too fast for the woman wasn't prepared to make a responsible response. The first thought she mustered about the voice in her ear was a question. How's he know my name? Who is this guy..? the voice was unfamilar, but as she momentarily released Hunter to focus on her comm-lines, she figured this unknown man had found out her name from her earlier shout out.

With a murderously loud crash, Shana reached for her firearms, but all too quickly she remembered she did not have any, so instead she pulled out her knives and stood her ground in a defensive posture over the Spartan. By no means was she big enough to shield the giant, but he brain was not focused on that. There was a noise, she had to take action. Holding the larger of the two up to shield her face, she tightly clenched onto the other knife at her mid-section. She held onto the energy allowing it to build up. Shana would dart forward and strike the second the invader showed their ugly face. When a marine appeared, however, the woman was taken off gaurd and she wobbled forward catching her balance as she pushed away her attempted at an attack releasing her energy. Instead of using it to her physical needs, Shana used it vocally. "What in the hell is wrong with you!? I could have killed you! Ya don't sneak up on an allie like that, god damn it!" she hollared in her frustration to being taken off gaurd.

Turning her attention away from Sling, she grumbled and kicked at the concrete. She couldn't believe a marine had come and tensed her up. Deep down she was damn thankful it was a marine and not covenant, but the woman was too stubborn to admit it. Taking a few breaths, Shana put her knives away and waved Sling down from the elevator. "Why don't ya come on down from there before ya make any more noise and attract unwelcome visitors." the marine hadn't realized the soldier had killed an elite on his way down the shaft.,

[Hunter Phoenix]

Hunter heard a burst of action on his make do comm link before there was a crash and then Shana was cursing someone that appeared to be friendly, he was in no shape to turn around and see who it was, he could barely hold himself together as it was, he called out as best he could from his position

"Anyone we know?"

He tried to push himself up on his good leg, managing to an extent so that he could get himself sat on his good leg, at least now he was partially up. The effort had spent him however so he had to stop and catch his breath, he could see things in front of him, things that looked useful, he pointed to them

"Maybe we could do the introduction when we are other there?"

[Gladiator0161]

Gunnery Sergeant Desmond "Sling" Rockwell

Sling was momentarily taken aback by the Marine's cursing "Sorry" he said gritting his teeth and turning over to grip something to aid his standing up. He disappeared from the hole for a second, a second after that he rolled the body of the dead Elite through the hole in the elevator ceiling, and smiled as the corpse smacked wetly on the ground below "I was fighting him for control of the elevator cable in our quick decent" he said as he appeared over the edge of the hole again. He gently sat down on the edge of the hole and looked for a safe way down that wouldn't cause him too much pain but, he couldn't see one.

Again, he turned over on his good side and gently pushed himself off, feet first, "You two seriously didn't hear me firing a half dozen shots into that thing, or it crashing into the elevator roof? What? Are you two deaf?" he said as he hung above the ground for a minute as he tried to judge the distance. Finally he let go and crashed to the floor, crying out in pain due to his broken leg. He dragged himself over to the fallen Gravity Hammer and his discarded pistol, grabbing both weapons. He slapped the pistol back into it's holster on his chest, he still had two good fully loaded M6D Magnums on his hip, the same ones he'd carried with him from the time when the Covenant had first shown up, two fully loaded M6G Magnums plus his empty one that were strapped across his chest, and one fully loaded Mauler, the shotgun type weapon for the Brutes. Best of all, the useless trophy he kept on his thigh was still there, the handle of an Elite's Energy Blade. After the pain went away, he used the Gravity Hammer to help him stand and looked to where the Spartan was pointing. Just beyond the doors of the elevator looked like an emergency medical room.

It may not have looked like it based on his actions or words but, the only thing keeping Desmond from crying out in pain was sheer willpower. He nodded to Shana and motioned for her to help Hunter "Sounds good to me, this broken leg of mine is beginning to be a pain in my ass, and my trigger finger is itchy again."

[Sushi]

"I'll give it back to you momentarily. We'll need close-range weapons in a second." Valkyrie crept closer to the covenant patrol, waving Gladiator over to a concrete barrier just a few hundred yards away. She took the rifle and laid it across a large fissure in the barrier, getting as low to the ground as she could. The spartan sighed. She hated sniping.

It was fairly similar to the work she did with rockets, but at the same time it totally wasn't. There were so many little considerations, like windage, ammunition type and thousands of little optic adjustments. She still had to be good at it, though. She brought the sight to the single Wraith tank and checked the range readout. "Six-oh-three." The soldier dialed in the adjustments, then put the crosshair of the sight directly over the grunt gunner sitting on the Wraith.

"Here goes..." She whispered. Her finger took up slack on the trigger and held right at the breaking point, the spartan taking a moment to calm her breathing before moving the last incremental distance. The sniper rifle thundered, bucking heavily into Valkyrie's shoulder. She only waited for the splash of blue gore in her scope before turning to the next target, a confused-looking elite barking orders at nearby troops. The round came in just below its eyes, jerking the sangelli warrior's skull back before exiting in a brilliant spray of brain matter and blood. She handed the rifle back to Gladiator and took off at a run.

The wraith, without a gunner had to try to hit a fast-moving foot soldier with a painfully slow plasma mortar. Soon, the two spartans had closed enough to hose down the covenant with impunity. Valkyrie darted from cover to cover, throwing grenades and squeezing off controlled bursts from her rifle. Gladiator took down the odd sangelli warrior with deadly accuracy, making every shot from his DMR count.

It was only after a majority of the covenant had been picked off that Valkyrie finally unslung her rocket launcher. One timely rocket slammed into the exposed power unit and the vehicle skewed to a stop. She wasted no time, ditching the weapon and leaping onto the crippled assault gun. A vicious stab of her knife through the rim of the hatch allowed the Spartan to pry it up long enough to pop a grenade into the cockpit.

"Heh." Valkyrie, her face hidden by the armored visor smiled as the machine stopped, totally gutted by the attack. She turned and gave Gladiator a thumbs-up.

Moments later, the blinding bolt of a covenant beam rifle crashed across the spartan's shield, overloading it and knocking her off of the tank.

[Gladiator0161]

To his surprise Valkyrie kept both of the heavy weapons, he waited for her to check and recheck her math as she calculated wind speed, distance, and the trajectory of the bullet that would be affected by the wind. Seconds later, taking out the Grunt gunner of the second tank that was in the area. The first older model tank, having went on it's patrol. He checked behind them to make sure they weren't being outflanked but, there was nothing. He momentarily thought that a sniper rifle's 50 caliber bullet, was a waste on something like a Grunt. He could have probably taken the gunner out with the DMR from this distance but, he didn't say anything and just rolled with it.

Unlike the BR55 Battle Rifle which was effective up to 656 feet, or 200 meters, the DMR was a marksman rifle, which doubled the range of the BR55, making it a choice weapon to specialists. It was one reason why Gladiator favored the DMR over the BR55, it was more accurate, had longer range, and less kick. The Battle Rifle really left you aching if you had to use it all day, which slowed your response time. The SRS 99D-S2 AM Sniper Rifle was more effective with a range of 4,920 feet, or 1,500 meters, and a suppressed kick, making it useful for even the greenest soldier. If they were good at math and had calm nerves, which was extremely rare. It wasn't for the antsy, shoot everything and then shoot some more type. One shot usually did the job with almost everything. Scorpion Tanks, Sparrowhawks, Covenant Wraith Tanks, and Hunters being the exception. Even the UNSC Hornet, Falcon, or Pelican ships could be brought down with a well placed shot from a SRS but, that didn't mean that it wasn't difficult. The MA5 Assault Rifle was more for the antsy types and greenhorns. He hated the MA5 with a passion, not only was it wildly inaccurate, it was a less effective weapon in his opinion. Gladiator just didn't see the point in such a waste of ammunition. People called him boring but, he had always responded "Maybe but, I'm alive. Good luck with the MA5."

Unlike a lot of soldiers, he loved sniping, it took precision, patience, and an awareness of your surroundings that normal open warfare didn't allow for. Things went fast as she took out the confused Elite, probably the pilot to the Wraith Tank, after splattering the Grunt's head all over the Wraith's purple armor, and handed him the rifle. He took it and placed the DMR on his back magnetising it to his armor plates, securing it. Gladiator looked through the SRS' scope, keeping their six covered as he looked for any Covenant Air patrols in the distance that might be called for back-up. Fortunately, he didn't see anything that he needed to be concerned about. When he saw her take off toward the alien guards, he turned and covered her from behind. Spotting an Elite that was taking aim at them as it took cover behind a safety rail. His breathing calmed as he entered what many called "sniper's time" and timed his heart beat, already running the necessary calculations through his head. The barrel wavered upwards, the sight rising with it, his heart beat again as time slowed, he exhaled, and pulled the trigger. The Elite's forehead was replaced with a hole the size of his finger and toppled backwards onto the pavement.

Another Elite ran from behind the abandoned Wraith Tank, just as Gladiator tracked it's movement it slid into the pilot's hole and the lid slid shut. He grunted in irritation and switched to his DMR, taking down two more Elites, one of which had been running to meet them, plasma repeater in hand. Gladiator took him down with three shots to the head, two to take down it's shields, and a third for the kill shot. The other had worn gold armor and had been directing his remaining forces and calling for back up.

The pilot inside the Wraith tried to take out the fast moving duo but, it was too slow to maneuver. The hot boiling plasma mortars the Wraith fired burned the air over their heads and shook the ground but, little else. Gladiator took out three Jackal snipers using Carbine, Focus, and Beam Rifles that had run from around the corner, drawn by the sounds of battle. Another Grunt went down with a shot to it's methane tank, which sent it up into the air, only to crash back into the concrete at lethal speeds. The body however, didn't stop there, and after rolling twice on the ground was flung over the bridge's safety rail by the still escaping gases. He checked their perimeter, and turned towards Valkyrie as she finished off the Wraith Tank with a grenade to it's pilot chamber, after wrenching the lid open. Gladiator spotted the Jackal Sniper on the corner of a building half a block away a hair of a second before it shot, overloading his partner's shields and knocking her from the tank. A moment later the tank erupted in flames.

"Valkyrie!!" Gladiator's warning was too late by the time it left his lips but, he had been able to fire one shot, before he had to dive for cover, the bright purplish beam missing him by inches. His own shot hit the alien scout high on it's shoulder, grazing it's leathery skin but, otherwise leaving it unharmed. He army crawled over to Valkyrie to check on her. Her pulse was strong in his biometric link as he pulled it up. The link had her outlined in red, an indication that she was injured, and that her shields were down. Gladiator grabbed her and slid her closer to the dead tank, so that she was covered. It wasn't the smartest move medically but, it would save her life if there were any more snipers with a better vantage point in that direction. He peeked out just as the Jackal returned from taking cover, and fired a wild shot at them, which hit low on the tank. He ducked back behind the Wraith, and turned to check on Valkyrie again. She was still breathing.

He peeked back out, double checking the distance, and ducked again as another beam bolt whizzed over his head. Angle, wind speed, distance, and the range of the DMR itself ran through his head in a blur, his mind calculating his chances of pulling off the maneuver he was thinking of. He took two quick breaths, dived to the side of the tank, leveled his rifle and fired. He'd seen this silly maneuver in old action holovids but, after practicing a little during training, he'd been surprised to find out that it was relatively effective. Of course it helped if the enemy didn't already know your position. That's what made the maneuver so silly, it left you vulnerable for precious seconds. Which often came down to everything on the battle field.

The bullet soared across three hundred feet and hit the Jackal in it's right eye, two centimeters from where Gladiator had aimed, the bullet's trajectory pushed slightly to the right due to the higher elevation. The blue and gold Spartan II rolled back behind cover. Just then the second Tank rumbled around the corner, it's plasma battery already charged. Gladiator pulled Valkyrie to her feet and pulled her away from the destroyed tank they were taking cover behind barely able to get a warning out as it fired it's plasma mortar. He pulled her in front of him and pushed her down to the street as they neared an alley nearby, and overloaded his shields as he activated his Armorlock ability, taking the brunt of the blast and heat in order to cover her. White plasma enveloped his field of vision, as he gritted his teeth against the heat. A second later the Plasma mortar impacted two feet in front of him and detonated against his overloaded shields. His shields went down and he rolled for the cover of the alleyway, not wasting any time.

Gladiator looked to the melted concrete where he'd just been, a nice human sized chunk remained intact. He looked back to Valkyrie, who from all appearances was unharmed by the plasma mortar.

He shrugged "The sniper's taken out. That one at-least. You okay Valkyrie?"

[The Golden Touch]

Name: Adelaine 'Addie' aka Shadow
Unit Type: Spartan  (Sierra six three six)
Location: New York
Tagged: Open

We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto....

The spartan hissed, the span between her ping to a one 'PFC Matthew Fry' going unanswered. She repeated the call, cycling her call down to the frequency she was sure had carried his distress call. Only an unending silence in her ears. The woman shifted, peering from around her cover, the patrol moved on- unable to spot anything worthy to kill. She hugged the shattered remains of the building, making a half speed movement across the street into the shadow and cover over another rundown residence. Adelaine had no idea what had transpired with the PFC that had made him not answer but she also knew there were other Spartans out there. There were only two options at this moment and neither sounds particularly good.

One... Find PFC Fry.

Two... Search out the possibility that any of the others were still alive.

True, spartans were hard to kill but it was not impossible. As much as they liked to label the dead as MIA, not KIA... It was a legacy that they never died. She carried that thought with her, and felt the strength of those gone before beat in her blood. She could not leave a fellow combatant behind, even if it meant to collect his dog tags and move on. Maybe she could do both at the same time. Moving silently, she weaved to and fro from shadow to shadow in search of any friendlies.

Her call was quiet, hoping someone would hear her broadcast on her team's frequencies, "Oly Oly Oxen Free." The spartan signal was an all clear and was known only to Spartan-IIs. The all clear was given on other USN comms, hoping to pick out anyone that was an Hell jumper or otherwise. "Sierra six three six offering aid. Anyone out there?"

[Hunter Phoenix]

Hunter had to laugh at the marine, even though he was in pain and had to spit some more blood out of his mouth.

"We didn't hear you because we haven't been conscious all that long, now let's get the hell into that med room and get sorted out, then we can go and enjoy the killing once we are back up to strength"

He pushed himself slowly into a standing position on his good leg and placed a hand on Shana's shoulder so that he didn't overbalance and fall back on his front.

"Let's get going shall we? Don't want the war to finish without us"

[ashia starstreak]

Shana left her smart ass remarks to rot in the back of her head. Though the woman liked a good brawl, she thought it best to let it slip away for now. The marine was injured himself, and that gave Shana all the more advantage over him, but she did not share.

Holding onto Hunter's arm with one hand and securing the other around his waist, the woman looked to Sling a moment and smiled. She shook her head and helped the Spartan slowly and carefully to one of the medical beds.

"Why don't you keep an eye above while I figure out how to dress the Spartan. The covenant most likely thought us dead, but thanks to your obnoxious entrance, I'm sure we'll have more arrivals shortly." she told the marine glancing to him a moment before leaving Hunter to punch multiple codes into the computer.

"I'm going to give you a full body scan to see what exactly we're dealing with, lay down and I'll start the process." Shana told Hunter as her boney fingers tapped upon the keyboard.

[Hunter Phoenix]

Hunter laid down on the med table and waited patiently as Shana punched in code after code to get the scanner working. He had been on these enough to know when it started up. He stayed perfectly still as the machine scanned every part of his body.

When it stopped, he looked over to the marine

"So what's the damage doc?"