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The assault on Lyon, Infiltration.
Posted By: Andres<andres_vera2000@yahoo.com>
Date: 4 April 2005, 10:52 AM

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City of Lyon
Unknown location
Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

       The corporal had waken up inside the Pelican, unaware of how many hours he had slept he knew one thing, he still had a mission, he walked to his new CO who was cleaning his rifle, sitting in one of the Pelican chairs, "Lieutenant, I was wondering if I could have a word," asked Wayne Everton.
       "Roger," answered the Lieutenant, "we will go to the crib, more confortable there.
       Both men exited the destroyed Pelican, the devastation caused by the battle and the crash of the Pelican's was simply exaggerated, debris and rubble littered every part of the street in a way that pavement was scattered in view, only small holes in the piles of rubble were to be founf, they walked into the "crib", a near intact house that the Marines had adopted, on the second Pelican, witch was in a very good condition taking in mind what it had gone through, every man with some kind of electronic experience was trying to fix the Pelican's radio. They entered the building where some Marines slept in the furnitire, the floor was dirty, paper was everywhere in sight. They both sat in a nearby sofa.
       "Sir, there is a Covenant encampment seven clicks to the North West," the Helljumper said.
       "Nothing we can do about it now Corporal," said the Lieutenant with out any thought.
       "Sir, I've identified a series of Covenant jamming equipment," said the Corporal, "we need to take it out."
       The Lieutenant knew exactly the intentions of the Corporal, "we can't assault a Covenant encampment. Corporal we can barely move, not only that we simply don't have the manpower to attack, even for a prolonged defence."
       "I'm aware of that Lieutenant," said the Corporal who took a serious face, "that is why I'm requesting that you lend me some men to infiltrate the camp and destroy the devices."
       For a Corporal he had a way with words, but this Lieutenant was not a man you should try to talk into a bad investment, "sorry, I will not sacrifice my men on a suicide mission, more than that I will not order them to do something they are not trained to do, add to that they don't have the nessesary equipment."
       The Corporal looked at the Lieutenant, "don't order them, and ask them to sir," he insisted, "look, I know what your plan is."
       "Oh really?" asked impetuously the Lieutenant.
       "Yes sir," the Corporal kept his poker face, "you plan to wait until you can fix the Pelican's radio then call for evac," the Corporal face turned expressionless, "with all the respect you deserve as a Marine and an officer I'll be completely blunt. The plan is fucked."
       The Lieutenant got more comfortable on the couch, "how sow?"
       "Even if the radio is operational in anytime soon, witch I doubt, Covenant jamming is so hard that most likely we will not be able to contact HQ, moreover my unit is pinned down at an Objective Foxtrot. A sector that cuts downtown from first battalion LZ".
       "Hmm," the Lieutenant thought for a second, "assuming I'll go for it, how many do you need?"

       The Lieutenant had gathered the available men, the ones not pulling security, for a special meeting. "Men, I'm here for an unusual request," he sighed, "I'm asking for volunteers for something really dangerous."
       "So what we have been doing lately had been safe," said Thomas.
       "Thomas," the Lieutenant said seriously, "there is Covenant camp not far from here. Covenant electronic warfare equipment is located there; the destruction of the devices will drastically improve," the Lieutenant reconsidered, "let our comm gear work even if they are repaird."
       "We can't assault an encampment sir," said Sergeant Brown, "I'm guessing for volunteers."
       It was then where true men appear.

Outskirts of Lyon
Staging Area Romeo
Tactical Command Vehicle

Lieutenant Colonel Paul Robinson sat in his command vehicle, in front of him a column of eighteen light M721L Runner Tanks, faster and lighter than the venereal M808B, four Marine Scout Vehicles, lightly armored wheled vehicles carrying four Marines each, five Warthogs carrying mechanics and gear and his command vehicle awaited the order to march. The inside of the command "track" was cramped, yet he and his operations officer sat in front of each other in comfortable chairs, all kind of gadgets and comm gear filled the inside of the vehicle. In front of him the digital map showed his units showed his units, but more importantly his plan for the entry of the city; his unit would march north on a highway until the outskirts of the city where a small village was, they would secure it and then march onto a mayor avenue accsesible from the village, from there they would fight their way to the Marines landing zone, in the direct path of the avenue, a rough maneuver but a necessary one.
       "Sir, you got a call from joint forces command," said a young Private in the communications gear on the front of the troop compartment of the vehicle.
       "Patch it in," the soldier typed commands into his computer, in intermittent light appeared on the radio on top Robinson's head, he grabbed the receiver, "Robinson."
       "Paul, this is Dan Harley at JFC. Are you ready to roll?"
       "Roger sir," the Colonel took a look at the map in front of him, "we can be ready to move in fifteen."
       "Not good enough," the voice of the Colonel was suspicious, "I want," he stopped, "I need you to move now. "
       Robinson looked at the map, he had six tanks ready to march; he expected the order to come with more time to prepare, "sir I can send six tanks now, the rest of the regiment will take fifteen mikes, if we can do it at that time, I thought I had more time to prepare."
       "Send them," Robinson sighed when he heard that phrase, "you need air support," the Colonel changed tone, "you have it until you reach the city. Sorry but the situation requires drastic measures."
       Robinson sighed looked at his Operations Officer, they both exchanged looks of horror, his officer nodded and he nodded back, "copy sir, we are rolling"

In route to Phase Line Liberty
Highway of Lyon
1st Platoon, A Troop, first Light Armored Reconnaissance regiment

The loud sound of the engine, the tracks rolling on the cold pavement, the way the ground shakes as these monsters roll, the wind blowing on your face, not only that you control everything, what a feeling. 2nd Lieutenant Rob Ashley stood, resting on his crossed arms on the hatch. He watched landscape outside the city witch was incredibly not a bad sight, it had not been disturbed by this war. To his right the Lyon River reflected the sun light, fish could be seen swimming against the current, with sporadic rapids it was a nice view, a place he would possibly visit after the battle. To his left farmhouses a fire, the Covenant had their way with the farmers, they would pay for it. The contrast of the sight showed the true reality of war, the destruction was not created by nature, only by intelligent creatures. On his six o' clock five more Tanks rolled, the ground shook as the 58t monsters speed at 60mph, the highway's lights blinked that early morning, the wide highway had cars randomly located, mostly burning after being relentlessly by the Covenant Banshees. He looked through the rear view mirror all his tankers were in the same position as he was, just relaxing; ahead of them a ridge blocked the view of the first target, a small village in the outskirts of the city, he interlocked his fingers behind his back and stretched, kickoff was not far now.
       "Hey Lt check that out," called one of his Marines. A large promotional sing was just in on the right side of the highway. "Welcome to Lyon, where everyone is a friend."

       Phase Line Liberty reached, said his computer.

       The Lieutenant adjusted the radio transmitter on his neck, "Lion, this is Lion one-A, Papa Lima Liberty reached, proceeding to Papa Lima Mike," informed the lieutenant over the radio.
       "Roger that," called a radiomen from HQ.
       "Alright people, look alive," he said into his radio set on the helmet, "get tactical," the platoon acknowledged the order. He took a last look at the rural landscape; he crouched then sat down on the comfortable chair inside the tank. He pressed a button, on his right armrest, the hatch closed automatically. In front of him three screens displayed what cameras recorded from outside, beneath them four multi function displays showed all the data he needed to know, from his ammunition to the calculations of the fire computer. He disengaged the autodrive by pressing a button on his left joystick, the one used for steering the tank. He was now in command of the beast, inside there was no noise, just a pleasant controlled atmosphere. His Armored Helmet had 3D audio, meaning that he heard the communication from the direction it came.
       He disabled it; he would enjoy the ride as far as he could, he turned on the music player, classical music. The city slowly became visible in the background; the immense urban jungle went until the eye can see. The morning sunlight entered between the buildings, showing a series of colors that were amazingly beautiful. The lights if the buildings were still on, they were not a bad view at that range, they seemed intact at this range. I wonder what them Covenants think of them Skyscrapers, how could them want to fight us? Were questions that went through most Marines minds, for the Lieutenant the thought was different, Bring it out four chins.

Their first target, the village, was not yet visible; a hill on witch the highway passed blocked their view.
       "Lion one-A, this two-A, contact," called his XO Lieutenant Vladimir Oleg.
       "Roger," enabled the outside audio, on his right Joystick he pressed a button that descended his Primary sight at the level of his eyes, "where?"
       "I saw a Jackal at eleven o' clock, caught a glimpse over the hill, the sneaky bastard ran from the city to the village. Seven hundred meters in ten seconds."
       "Roger," the Tank slowly began to climb the hill; he stopped the music. The massive beast showed it self over the ridge, the village was now visible, four miles away. He traversed the turret until his sight was lined up with the village; there was nothing to be seen.
       "No sing of that Jackal," said a random tanker over the radio.
       "Copy," answered Ashley. He traversed the turret, scanning the village, according to the intelligence under ten thousand people used to live there, wide streets and no tall buildings, perfect terrain to tank... on urban terrain.
       He looked at his multifunction screens to check the status of his tank, it was good and clear.

       "Small arms! Small arms front! called nearly every tanker in the platoon.

       The Lieutenant looked on his sights; it appeared that the whole town and its surroundings fields were shooting at the tanks.
       "Lion, this is one, line up get them!" screamed the Lieutenant.
       The tanks rolled of the highway to their left and into the fields, descending from the ridge they formed a line formation. The Lieutenant moved a knob on his right joystick for the wanted ammunition, HE-Frag.
       On the sights the needles formed a slow, lethal purple cloud; the Plasma came directly in, hitting the armor and the ground around them, pup, pup, pup could be heard as they hit the armor.
       Professionally the lieutenant scanned for a target, he looked for the largest source of enemy fire, and by a large ravine at least six enemy creatures were engaging the armor with plasma rifles.
       "HQ, this is Lion, contact small arms by in and around the village," reported the Lieutenant.
       "Roger, Infantry is in route."
       He lazed the target, on his sight the range was displayed, 3012m. He pulled the trigger; the velocity of the round was impressive, even with the tracer on the shell only a glimpse was visible before the explosion, the only thing he saw were the chubby bodies of four Grunts flying on the air followed by a cloud of sand.
       "Vladimir," he called for his XO, "take your pair to the left flank," he squeezed another round into a ridge where needles were coming, "try to take a position on the high ground left flank of the village."
       "Roger," Vladimir and two tanks separated from Ashley and the two remaining tanks.
       The cloud of needles stuck to his armor. The detonation was intense, yet the Tank was not harmed. "Somebody take the fucking needlers out!"

       He was interrupted by a disturbing message from his computer, Antitank weapon, nine o'clock. Called his computer over the comm.

       The Lieutenant let the computer traverse the turret onto the source of the incoming fire. Two radioactive projectiles closed the gap on his tank from the village; he made a drastic turn by pulling his Joystick left. The tank rotated left, the two rounds landed to his left harmlessly, still shaking him.
       "Computer gives me the shooter of the ATs," said the Lieutenant.
       The turret traversed until it aligned it self with a house on the village on the edge of the village, the Lieutenant lazed the structure; he selected a HEAT round and aimed at the window of the house, it was a rectangular shaped house, like all of the houses on the village it was a nice rural structure, with a chimney and all, he squeezed the trigger. Immediately the house exploded, debris and fire exited the windows, smoke rose from the house shortly after. No more fire was to be taken from that house.


       "Lion one, this is four, I'm hit!"

       "Computer, Lion four on screen three."
       The screen to his right displayed the tank to diagonal to his left, a heavy blow had been inflicted on his right track, "can you move?"
       "Stay there, draw fire and suppress," he paused to fire another round, "pop smoke if you have too."
       "Computer, identify the location of the shooter who took out four," the computer took some time to process the information.
       Target identified. the turret traversed and sighted on the middle of a massive hill half a mile from the city, possible fortified position. Lion four has expended six rounds of ammunition. Sporadic fire incoming, suspect fortified position.
       As another round was loaded a massive green puff erupted in the hill, a radioactive shell streaked to his tank, it fell hopelessly short from the tank. He sighed in relieve, a second, unexpected shell hit Ashley's tank, it stopped it cold.
       "Damage report," the computer immediately showed the damage information on the center multi function screen, a Scorpion tank layout showed a red front. The hit almost penetrated his tank, he was lucky to be alive. He popped smoke to cover himself. His tanks expended eight more rounds to no success; two more radioactive shells nearly hit Vladimir's tanks.

       "Everyone freeze. Don't move until that position in done," ordered the lieutenant, what could he possibly he throw at that position, he was running out of options.

       "Lion, this is Gold flight, on station."

       "On screen," said the Lieutenant, he was relieved to see the air support. The camera tracked the pair of SkyHawks VTOL jets, the slimmer Pelicans hovered two kilometers behind the advancing tanks.

       "Gold flight," started the Lieutenant, "target a suspected fortified position. Painting the target," the lieutenant centered his sight on the position; he flipped the switch enabling the laser designator.
       "Roger that, target identified, hammer time!" called the Pilot.
       The two jets accelerated from the hovering position, they descended altitude, the first plane drifted away from the second, it moved at a remarkably slow speed for an aircraft. Several successive puffs of smoke appeared on the wings of the craft, the missiles traveled the three miles in one second. The warhead of twenty pounds of explosive detonated, reducing the position into a large crater.
       "Target destroyed, still on station and ready to blow up more things for you," reported the pilot.
       "Hurrah flyboy!" screamed a tanker on the radio.
       "Alright Marines, into the village!"

City of Lyon
Unknown location
2.4 Km from the Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

A Helljumper, four Marines and two civilians, a more uneven team you could not think of. They had walked about two miles of abandoned city, meeting nothing. Then they went underground on a large office building and into the parking lot. The lot was a slaughter pit, people had been ambushed while trying to flee with their cars, hundreds of civilians in their suits lay on the ground, burned by plasma, and every car was damaged.
       On the front of the team was their guide, Pierre, leading the way from the underground parking lot to the street, they reached the exit, a ramp that head into the surface. They walked up the ramp passing the booths and a car with the windows blown up, the driver had no body from the waist up. The team was stacked to the walls and aimed their rifles into the rectangular hole that led to the street from the underground structure. Pierre led the team, he walked up to the end of the ramp; he raised his head and looked into the street. He immediately ducked; the Marines instinctively aimed their rifles upwards, waiting for something to come down the ramp.

       Nothing did.

       Pierre ran to where the leader of the team was, Corporal Wayne Everton.
       "Allot of covenant there."
       Everton nodded, he signaled Pierre to stay. He ran up the ramp, he raised his rifle and scanned with the camera, he turned around to face the crowd. He placed his fingers in front of his eyes, he closed his fist. Contact, danger. He raised his index finger, then raised three fingers, Elites, three. He then opened and closed his fist, took a pause and then opened and closed his hand successively, Grunts, many. He ran down the ramp, he stuck to the wall between the two ranking Marines, Bradley and Perry.
       "Ok," he whispered, "we can take 'em."
       "We shouldn't," said Bradley.
       "Roger that," said Perry.
       "Yes, I know," said the Helljumper, he knew why the Marines did not want to attack the Covenant there, but he knew why they did. "Look," he began, "if we make noise here they might deviate resources from the camp, leaving us an empty house," the Marines took some time to assimilate the idea.
       "We could take them," said Lance Corporal David Bradley, "if we had more firepower," the Marine looked at the Helljumper, "but we don't have it."
       "That's a roger," said Thomas.
       "Don't have to take them," said the Helljumper, "just have to distract them."
       The Marines looked at each other in disbelief, suddenly a smile popped on Bradley's face. "I have an idea."

City of Lyon
unknown location
1.2Km from the Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

"Pierre, you sure now your city," said Perry.
       "Aye," he said with out pride or satisfaction, "first time I have been on the sewers though."
       Perry and him walked over the trail of polluted water, the smell was unbearable, they were going to a gutter on the street were the Covenant creatures were spotted, the gutter would provide a trench like fortification for Perry and his squad support MG. Pierre stopped, he climbed on a drain too look for a reference point.
       "We are near," said Pierre, "a few more minutes that way," he looked at Perry, "I think."
       "Yes man."

Bradley and Malone took the high ground; they walked through the stairs to the top of the building that parking lot belonged, just over the Covenant roadblock. They reached the fifth floor, they exited the stairs and into the hallway. The Covenant invasion sure was a surprise for the people who worked here, blood was sporadically scattered on the walls and floor, papers and trash also littered the floor, they entered an random office, the desk was flipped over, the window was already opened, this would be their spot. The Helljumper, Thomas and Francois continued to the camp, the force had been divided to make a sound tactical move; Bradley's team would create a diversion so that the camp's defenses would be weakened to thwart this "powerful" human attack that would make infiltration easy (er).
       "How much time?" asked Bradley.
       Malone looked at his digital watch, "two hours."
       Bradley took the time it would take for the other team to reach their entry position by the enemy encampment.
       "Ok, let's hope they make it in time."

Human controlled System
Human planet
His greatness Major Commander Hasnf' Gorsitfd encampment, commander of the Army of Sadness.

As soon as he entered the infirmary every creature, specially the lesser creatures, stopped working and saluted him. He nodded back and the creatures returned to work. His shiny armor was covered in blood from a previous battle. He walked through the beds of the wounded warriors, he walked over their blood with no remorse, and he was here to visit his wounded cousin who was agonizing in a bed in a private room.
       At the door a Junior Warrior Elite stood guard, he lowered his head and stepped aside, "he suffers no pain Commander."
       The Gold Elite nodded, the door slid open. On the luxurious room with ornaments and decorations was another Elite standing guard. An anti-gravity bed where his cousin laid, he had refused to die not wearing his Gold Commander armor.
       "My family," said Hasnf'.
       "Oh dear cousin, I failed as an Elite," he said regretfully, "I underestimated the Humans," said the wounded Elite, he coughed purple blood.
       "We all did." At that moment he remembered why he was here in the first place; the invasion of the planet was meant to be a fast raid to destroy the airfields, spaceports and silos that may endanger his ships glassing the planet. Human numbers, their tenacity and the unexpected arrival of the Human Fleet had thwarted his plans. The destruction of his Capital Ship and Carriers were simple a blow he could not recover from. He evacuated as many warriors as he could. He made a stand on his drop ship in the woods and failed, and then he retreated to the primitive human city. The surviving humans putted a fight but they were simply outmatched, it was the arrival of the "Marins" had put him on check. His plan was now to hold the planet until reinforcements arrived.
       "We all did my friend," said Hasnf'.
       "There were only two humans," he took a deep breath, "or at least we thought."
       "I know," he placed his hand on the forehead of the wounded Elite, "you threw the Lekoglos at them," a impulsive tactic that would cost him his life , "you followed behind like a brave Warrior," a stupid leader however my dear family, "and got ambushed by a larger force. It's ok my friend you did a good job as a warrior," but not as a commander.
       "I don't know how many humans are there," he said, "but you should be careful."
       Hasnf' nearly cried at the sight of his dead cousin, friend and brother, "I know."
       His subdue, a small, old but wise Grunt entered the room, "your greatness, humans Tanks are attacking the city." The Elite looked at his cousin.
       "Go," said his dying cousin, "leave me to die as a warrior, you have humans to kill."
       Hasnf' took a last look at his cousin; he succeeded in keeping the tears in. He left with out saying a word.

City of Lyon
Unknown location
1.2Km from the Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

"Ok, you ready?" asked Bradley.
       Malone nodded; he aimed the rifle straight at the head of the leader, the scarlet Elite.
       The Covenant had made a small roadblock in the street by the parking lot; large purple boxes blocked the street. Two plasma turrets were at the end and the beginning of the encampment. The three Elites were eating something out of a device that looked like a vending machine, they were on a fort build by rubble, the Grunts were scattered n the street, either sleeping or talking. It was not for him to know, their targets were the Elites, Perry and his LMG would spray the bullets on them.
       "Ok, you go first," Bradley stood and walked to the hallway of the office building, it was filled with papers and garbage, and he walked until he was three offices down. The poor bastard that worked in this office was still there, sitting on his chair, some Covenant had snuck on him as he lived his daily life and fired, he was burned from the chest up. Bradley ignored him, the window was open. He aimed his rifle at the trio of Elites by the vending machine.
       The timer in his watch beeped, he waited for Malone to fire. The massive .45 round struck the scarlet Elite's head. Bradley pulled the trigger; the bullets hit the ground raising dust and rocks around the Elites, killing the blue ones but failed to get the leader.
       From a gutter on the opposite side of the street a muzzle blast let hundreds of bullets out, dropping dozens of Grunts in bare seconds. They had done their part; it was up to the other men to complete the mission.

Human controlled System
Human planet
His greatness the Commander of the Sadness Army Hasnf' Gorsitfd encampment.

A chubby Grunt hurried into his office.
       "Sir," said fearfully the creature, "Junior Master Diownf from the Beauty Company, Charity Legion reports he is under attack by human forces."
       "That is just two microunits from here," he said with out showing the wordiness on his words, "Human guerrillas or `Marins`?"
       "He doesn't know."
       "Convene my war council lesser one."

"Sir, the human tanks are advancing, we cannot be trouble with this small attack," said his spy officer, "The humans would not dare to attack here."
       "Remember when my dead cousin," the grief was noticeable for all, "he thought that he was facing a small force and died for his lack of better judgment?"
       "True sire," said the spy officer.
       "Still they are near, we could dispatch the Kindness and Glory Legions to deal with them, then we could prepare for the tanks," said his Maneuver Officer.
       "Yes, it is true we could that," said Hasnf', "and use the Knight Legion for reserve."
       "But sir I see no point on these two Legions to deal with this outbreak? That would reduce our guard dramatically. Remember sir that the humans already have forces on their religious icon area, I think this is not a good intention. My Commander I suggest," he was interrupted by the sliding door, a Grunt entered.
       "Sorry lords," he bowed, "Junior Master Diownf was killed in the attack by the Humans on the Beauty Company, the reports are no optimistic for the battle."
       "It is decided," said Hasnf' as he looked at his skeptical officer, "send the two Legions there. We will keep the tanks at bay then we will finish them off and the human presence by their religious icon."

The Marines his on a knoll overlooking the camp, in the cover of a large tree Everton scanned the encampment, it looked very much to a human camp, there were several tents located in a perfect box formation, at the center of the camp was a large building, possibly a command site. The target, the ECM device was away from the main camp, hidden by some trees by the southern perimeter, two tents were located next to it. In the park, four plasma turrets covered every flank and entrance to the camp, one was dangerously close to the target. Grunts wearing white armor hurled equipment in and around the camp, other Grunts wearing red and blue armor were sleeping on the main encampment or placing guard at the company of Jackals. The Covenant did a good job hiding their tracks; trees hid the park from the naked eye if viewed from the sky. Still the battle was raging at the parking lot yet there was no movement by the Covenant forces, it would seem for now that the bluff didn't work.
       "I think we should call an audible," said Thomas, meaning that they should change plan.
       "No, we can't. Let's wait," said patiently Everton.

Fifteen minutes later.

       "They are moving," whispered Everton, "allot of them."
       Thomas woke up. He walked to the tree were Everton over watched the camp. Behind the camp, a Ghost driven by a Gold Elite, hovering at a very slow speed, led a column of Covenant creatures, Jackals, Grunts, Elites and Hunters, they were heading for the parking lot.
       "I estimate a Company sized element heading to the parking lot," said Everton as he scanned the binoculars.
       "Wraiths," said Thomas, "and another Company it seems." A second Golden Elite led another column.
       "Roger," said Everton, "I have four tanks on my sight. Good news for us, bad for the others"
       Thomas nodded, "guards around the camp don't appear to move."
       "Roger," Everton lowered the binoculars, "we are moving in."

The night embraced him in way that for the naked eye, he was invisible. His black uniform hid him from the enemy and the friendly. At midnight the Marines made their move, Everton crawled through the mud garden to a brush near the southern entrance of the camp, behind him Thomas and Francois lay on a cover position on a ravine just behind him. He looked over the levees, a Plasma turret was just forty meters away, and the Grunt manning it was sleep. Easy target. He looked for more threats; a Jackal with two Grunts patrolled the perimeter, they were unaware of the Marines near them.
       Using hand signals Everton signaled Thomas about the location of the enemy, then he ordered him to find a flank position. Everton gave Thomas a silencer for his MA5B, it would not completely silence the rifle but it would be helpful for the situation at hand. Thomas and Francois crawled up the ravine and then to a rock on a vantage point overlooking the plasma gun.
       Everton knelt; he aimed his sub-machinegun over the bush at the sleeping grunt.
       He pulled the trigger, tack, tack, tack, blood sparkled out of the Grunts body.
       He aimed at the sentries; the Jackal had to go first. He moved the knob until it reached automatic. The Jackal and the Grunts marched from the turret to the main body of the camp. He took a deep breath and then pulled the trigger. The Jackal had no time to react, the Grunts stopped cold, and Everton traversed the rifle, methodically picking them one at a time, they were all dead in less than a second.

"Now that's how you should shoot," whispered Thomas.
       "Yes," answered Francois.
       Thomas watched how Everton signaled him, then himself and lowered his elbow.
       "Let's move Fran," said Thomas.

Everton stood up and ran to the plasma gun through the bushes. He reached the plasma turret, ho took cover behind it, the Marine observed the terrain; he grabbed his data pad, and selected the map window. Between the gun and the Jamming Device where two tents next to each others and scattered crates and boxes, the tents were located horizontal and one diagonal on his position, there were two fires with covenant Jackals dining and several more troops that provably had moved.
       Everton walked past the crates where several plasma guns were stored, he hid between the boxes and reached the tent, he rested against the surface of it.
       His motion tracker showed six targets beyond the tents. They were possibly the Jackals by the fire; other creatures were on the other side of the tent. He pressed the release button for his magazine witch he caught on mid air, he putted it on his pouch, and he retrieved two fresh magazines from his harness. He slammed one into the breech and held another in the hand; he needed the enough ammo on this fight. He scanned the surroundings one last time and there was nothing to be seen. He quietly strolled behind the tent until he reached the corner, he enabled the muzzle camera, and he rested for three seconds his head on the solid surface of the tent.
       The Marine regained focus; he moved his rifle around the corner. The sight was of horror, a human body lay by the plasma fire, the belly of the poor bastard was open, and the Jackals were chopping pieces and eating them. Everton adrenaline and anger kicked in, he turned off his camera and turned around the corner, he emptied the magazine on the unaware Jackals. Four bodies landed on the ground.

       He pressed the release button; the magazine fell on the ground. He slammed the second in to the breach, the MG locked and loaded automatically. He turned to face two sleeping Grunts who rested on the surface of the creature; he snuck up on them, slowly walking on the muddy terrain. He pulled the trigger, he fired only the right amount of bullets on the beasts, blood from the creatures landed on his gun, he paid no attention to it.
       He scanned around him; again there was nothing to be seen, Wayne walked to the entrance of the tent, it was nearby. He peeked in, a row of Jackals and Grunts calmly slept. They were not a threat to him now. He turned to face the ECM device, it was fifteen meters away. The only obstacles between it and he were crates and two parked Ghosts vehicles.
       He carefully made his way amongst the objects, nothing was aware of the dark warrior on the camp. He took cover behind a random crate, he was ten meters away now. He grabbed a satchel charge from his pouch, only two magazines and the satchel charge remained.
       He armed it; the timer was set for one minute. He threw the charge at the jammer device, it landed right next to it. He looked around him, it was clear.
       He made his way through the crates and past the tents, he was home free, he no longer had to worry, he walked past the gun with not incident.

       The unavoidable voice of a Jackal made his freeze.

       The beast aimed his rifle right at Everton. Thomas had no time to react; two beams hit the back of the Helljumper. Francois stopped Thomas from shooting. There was nothing he could do at that point, only to reveal the position and cause a fight they would no win.
       "Time to go my friend," said Francois.
       Thomas did not say a word, he just nodded.

City of Lyon
Unknown location
1.2Km from the Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

The massive explosion was reflected on the clouds. That was the cue for Bradley, it was time to leave he took cover behind the wall, the office was gone, only a large whole on the building remained.
       "Malone, are you ready to move?" screamed Bradley, there was no answer. The building had been fired on five times by the Wraiths. He had not heard from Malone since Bradley started shooting. Perry was still alive, shooting on the street outside of David's view. He ducked and ran thorough the hallway and to Malone's new position now on an office just by the stairs. Malone lay on the floor; his dead body was covered with plasma from the neck to the head. Bradley sighed, he knelt next to him, he retrieved Malone's dog tags, he opened his mouth and placed one of them in, he placed the other one in one of his chests pocket, he crossed Malone's arms on his chest, he closed his eye lids with his fingers. He grabbed Malone's designated marksman rifle, he slid the sling of the rifle on his chest. He left to the rally point.