Halo: Last Stand [IC|AU|Open]

[Tayner]

OOC
The Pub
Trepidation
Penumbra
Discord

Second Lieutenant Connor Winters
October 20, 2552; 1500 hours, Military Standard Time
Evacuation Site 11 Bravo, New Mombasa, Earth

The platoon had been billeted to an evacuation site in New Mombasa in wake of the naval battle raging above. Reach had fallen recently, it was only a matter of time, but suddenly and with little warning Earth fell under attack. The Covenant had already begun their descent to land, and New Mombasa was expected to be the first recipient of the invasion. They didn't have much time, get to their assigned evacuation site, and defend it as long as possible until ordered out. The lines were already growing long as civilians made way in their panicked state to the salvation of Marine pelicans carting them away to safety.

However, for the Marines of Second Platoon, the day was just barely starting. They had taken up security around the corporate building, allowing the NMPD to handle the civilian traffic. The radio was already exploding with chatter, and contact had already been made with covenant within the city, it was only a matter of time until things turned harry. Nearly the entire platoon was dug in, however second squad was on patrol, moving about where they could in the streets to get the civilians to the evac center. After a scant few minutes the call broke out over platoon comms.

<< Alpha-Two-Actual, this is Alpha-Two-Two, we have engaged with a squad sized element of delta-kilos, repeat, we are engaged! Need immediate assistance! Over. >>

The voice sounded over the radio, as screams and gunfire sounded a few blocks down. Connor grabbed his helmet and put it on, and slung his rifle over his shoulder. "Sergeant Hayden!" He hollered. The platoon sergeant, a seasoned veteran, responded with a curt 'aye'. "Take first squad and support second, I'll hold here and expedite this evac." He ordered. "Weapons squad, make sure you've got those HMGs set up, and supplied!" He yelled. "Officer, I need you to move this line quickly, get everyone inside now!"

Staff Sergeant Hayden had already gotten with Sergeant Hamna, and the squad had already begun to move out. "Double time, let's go!" Hayden yelled as they picked up speed. "Secon squad is waiting on us!"

"Alright Marines! Get those buckets on your heads and lock and load! First and second squads are going to be coming back with company, and we've got a lot of civvies to evacuate first."

---

Private William McBride
October 20, 2552; 1512 hours, Military Standard Time
322nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

First Squad was moving quickly to support second squad, the sounds of firefight growing ever closer. They finally rounded the corner of 322nd and 403rd streets, the group of Marines peeking around the corner and scrambling behind the scattered cover of cars and traffic barricades to see what was happening.

Second squad had taken cover inside a storefront, while the Covenant forces assaulted their position. Five Brutes were already on the ground, firing into the storefront. By the sound of it a few of second squad were already wounded, but the amount of lead being poured at the brutes was substantial. A phantom was hovering on the opposite side of the block, dropping off a squad of grunts and skirmishes into the fray, with a brute minor leading the group. Two skirmishers jumped on top of the two story building opposite of Second squad in an attempt to gain a tactical advantage.

Hayden spoke fast, ordering the squad into action. "Engage! One team on the Skirmishers and the rest focusing fire on the Brutes! Corpsman, get ready for some first aid!" He ordered. "Get on comms and let Second know we're here!"

<< Alpha-Two-Two, Alpha-Two-One is coming up on your left side, and engaging hostile targets, check fire! >>

McBride had reported, hastily.

It had started in an instant, suddenly the firepower of an entire additional squad opened up the covenant forces, surprising them.

For the Marines of Second Platoon, the battle for New Mombasa had just begun.

[Vacif]

Private Jude Cohen
October 20, 2552; 1500 hours, Military Standard Time
Evacuation Site 11 Bravo, New Mombasa, Earth

Jude's eye twitched. Evacuation duty, or rather site security. He didn't like it. His job was to stand pretty and put on his big boy face so the civis wouldn't lose their shit. Because of course if the military doesn't have their shit together, who does? It took every ounce of his person not to revert his face back to its normal grumpy look. Eyebrows scrunched together, eyes slightly squinted, lips slightly arched downward, complete with an all round look of contempt. Instead his face was calm, relaxed, skin remarkably smooth despite his usual amount of scowling. His eyes were wide open, but razor sharp as he kept his eyes open for trouble.

He hated evacuation duty because he hated waiting. He joined the marines because he didn't want to wait for the Covenant to come to him, (Minus the fact that the Corps actually conscripted him) he wanted to take the fight to them before they got a shot at them. Now here he was playing cop as he helped the civilians get along with their lives. Sure this was better than sitting around with their thumbs up their rectums but only marginally. Nothing against the police but he didn't want this job in this current situation when compared to actively engaging the enemy deeper in the city. He didn't want to be here when some squid in a banshee dropped a banshee bomb into a crowd of people.

<< Alpha-Two-Actual, this is Alpha-Two-Two, we have engaged with a squad sized element of delta-kilos, repeat, we are engaged! Need immediate assistance! Over. >>

Jude almost gave a sigh of relief as he'd finally get to go out and shoot the fuckers responsible had it not been for the fact that A; the lives of second squad were in danger, and B; they were fighting Donkey Kongs. Which meant the assault force here would be extra brutal in their dealings against civilians. Hopefully the Covenant were on a tight schedule, Brutes wouldn't get the chance to have their fun.

---

Private Jude Cohen
October 20, 2552; 1512 hours, Military Standard Time
322nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

Jude's face was relieved to know that he could finally relax, letting his facial features return to its normal creased position. Face full scowl as they rounded the corner where all the trouble was. Their guys were hold up in some shot up storefront, place had understandably seen much better days. The marines were pouring it on 'em but they weren't sounding too hot from where he was standing. The Staff Sergeant didn't need to tell him to engage, but the plan didn't sound too bad. Jude braced himself up behind a nice silver Überchassis, hopefully its expensive price tag would equate to something of durability.

Jude was no marksman but he could hit his shots. If the first shot didn't kill his target, the next two would. That was why he carried the BR55. Great for medium range engagements like street to street firefights. The recoil on the 9.5x40mm was a bit heavy for him but it was more efficient than the 7.62x51. The first burst opened up with the squad's opening salvo. The first skirmisher was swiftly lobotomized, but his friend was quick to react. They were bird brains, greedy, cowardly, ugly, but they were fast and their eyes were sharp. The death of his wing man startled him but his knee jerk reaction caused him to just dodge the trio of bullets, probably taking some feathers with it before it ducked down behind whatever cover it could find on the rooftop.

[United Islands of Polis]

PFC Nicholas Dimitri Ydenskov
October 20, 2552; 1500 hours, Military Standard Time
Evacuation Site 11 Bravo, New Mombasa, Earth

Nikolai looked into the lines of civilians waiting for their outward exodus from the soon to be war zone. It was not too long ago when the Covenant fleet appeared out of nowhere and bit too long after they broke through the naval blockade and ODP system. He was scared shitless with the news if the Covenant finally reaching Earth, it seemed like a game over at tbis point, but he would fight tooth and nail for this planet, for his people.

Not too long ago he had met up doubt Is sister, Mira, who was in the UNSC Air Force l, currently she was supposed to be stationed somewhere in the URNA, but the Covenant attacked right before they left, meaning one of those fighters flying out there now was his sister. And if she was willing to fight and if need be die for humanity, then so was Nikolai.

The line was getting longer and longer, he began to wonder whether or not they had enough Pelicans for the situation, it would be a miracle to get all of these people out without having engaged the Covenant. The last thing anyone needed was an it raid from a xeno bastard who had no remorse for civilians, yet again, none of them did, to then the human race was all but vermin.

<< Alpha-Two-Actual, this is Alpha-Two-Two, we have engaged with a squad sized element of delta-kilos, repeat, we are engaged! Need immediate assistance! Over. >>

Nikolai's blood froze then and there. Brutes.

He saw what Brutes did when they weren't on a leash. Before the 88th was ambushed, all civilian places within the outskirts of New Alexandria Brutes were used as a method of proceeding with their "Holy Work" and leaving a message, a bloody and brutal one at that. Granted they were one of the less intelligent and didn't posses energy shields, they were literal bullet sponges. What he'd give to trade his MA5C for any kind of shotgun at this point.

While leaving to meet up with the rest of his squad he did a check on ammo. He found the amount of rounds for his main weapon and sidearm sufficient enough, however he e's 2 grenades short of satisfied for his underbarrel grenade launcher, but it e's time for action regardless, he'll have to make do, the more time they spent here the more time Brutes had to play around with the civilians in dark nd demented way.

PFC Nicholas Dimitri Ydenskov
October 20, 2552; 1512 hours, Military Standard Time
322nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

As they approached 332nd street the gun fire of both chemical reaction and plasma could be heard and was getting louder and louder every step they took. It didn't take long for them to see the ruined storefront they firefight took place in, burned up by plasma and broken by bullets, it had seemed Second Squad just took a beating and were in different kinds of injured.

Nikolai was surprised to see that the Phantom dropping off troops didn't bother to aid their cohorts, oddly enough. While there were orders to engaged the Covenant infantry dropped on the roof, he found the oversized apes at the other end a more pressing danger especially if they close the distance.

Taking cover behind a flipped over container van Nikolai slid open the underbarrel grenade launcher and popped in one of his three 40mm grenades. Popping up the sight he pulled out of cover and aimed at the Brute who was on the theoretical center of the group and fired. After the explosion he poked out of cover again to unload the contents of his MA5C in fast controlled bursts. He was more than certain thay the ape he fired on was more than dead, however he wasn't sure if he killed any other Brutes with his burst firing.

Best case scenario they had to divert attention and fire from both directions, worst case scenario all of their attention was directed to them. For once in Nikolai's he hoped that Brutes had some form of functioning brain in their skulls.

[Futrellia]

Private First Class Cody Sutton
October 20, 2552; 1512 Hours, Military Standard Time
332nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

---

Sweat beaded across Cody's face as First Squad sprinted to Sergeant McCoy and Second Squad, who were trapped in a very poor situation with covvies banging on their front door, thirsty for new targets to come and fall to them. Though Cody never saw combat before this time, he hated the Covenant and oddly salivated at the thought of fighting them for the first time, even if it was on Humanity's home, their cradle, their last bastion. As Cody turned the corner, knees bent, M392 Designated Marksman Rifle high and ready, the sight he saw made him remember all of the skepticism of fighting at all. All the fear he thought he discarded in booth camp of death all came funneling back into his mind and his eyes shot wide. Smoke laid thick, blue and purple energy bolts sizzling through the air, disappearing into a crumbling storefront, keeping Second Squad, his allies, trapped within.

The order came from Staff Sergeant Hayden, Platoon Sergeant. The attack and reinforcement of Second Squad had begun. Cody swallowed deeply, shaking the beads of still sweat from his eyelids. There was no room for fear, the time for that was over. He was given an order, one that needed to be followed. Cody aimed in on his DMR, sighting a single Brute Minor, and made his target. He quickly advanced, leveling three shots into the brute before sliding in behind a silver Überchassis next to Private Cohen. The sounds of spiker rounds and plasma charges prickling the car in front of him caused the hairs on his neck and arms to stand stiff. Breathing heavy, Cody rose once more to level his EVOS-D optic on the same brute minor he sent three rounds into previously, unloading eight steady rounds into him before cowering back behind the car. Cody focused on his ammunition counter, sitting at 4 rounds remaining before having to switch clips.

The familiar sound of a grenade launcher popping off it's first round filled the air, followed by a loud, deafening boom. He looked to the direction of it's initial firing source, identifying the man as Private First Class Ydenskov.

"Are we sure it's such a good idea to be popping off forty millimeter's at point blank range of Second Squad?!" Cody having to yell to hear over the sound of gunfire around him, specifically talking to Private Cohen. Instead of rising up again to risk his neck for four more shots into a brute who seemed to be eating them up like candy, Cody perched on the corner of the car, barely exposing himself just to get his optic right on another brute and squeezed the trigger four more times. "Reloading!" Yelled out Cody as the spent magazine fell from his weapon.

He eyeballed the M9 grenade on his belt and deducted that if it was alright with the Sergeant, he would give his Covenant friends a little present for all their hardwork.

"Staff Sergeant! Permission to shove this frag where the sun don't shine?!" He yelled to the Staff Sergeant, though his in-helmet mic would still pick up the audio. He had already grabbed the frag and awaited the Staff Sergeant's approval.

[The Twelve Isles]

Sergeant Hamna Tabatabai
October 20, 2552; 1512 Hours, Military Standard Time
332nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

Hamna ran a little behind the rest of the squad, breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth. She would follow the Staff Sergeants orders, but she was not going to act like she was happy about it. As far as she was concerned, 1st Squad was her squad, and she didn't appreciate his effectively taking command of it. But still, orders were orders, and she would follow them. Hamna came around the corner with the squad, paused a moment at the scene unfolding in front of her, and said a silent prayer in her head. She wasn't religious, but it was almost like a reflex from her childhood to pray in times of distress. And this was most certainly a time of distress. They were badly outnumbered, their only advantage being a flanking position, and that was quickly going to come to a close as the covvies got a handle on where 1st Squad was.

Hamna spat, and sprinted into the fray, sliding into cover next to Privates Cohen and Sutton. "Boys," she said, leaning up against the flipped Überchassis. She leaned her rifle up against the Überchassis next to her, and poked her head up over her cover to get a better view of the field as Sutton fired at a brute. She hoped his shooting would make the covvies think twice about shooting at them as she scanned the enemy, and she was partially right. As soon as Sutton stopped firing however, the brutes they were facing reeled up and began firing again. Hamna could see the spikes from their weapons flying at her, and dropped flat like a character in a cartoon about to be hit by an anvil. The skirmishers on the roof fired as well, their rounds blasting the top of her cover, and a few rounds landing in front of her feet, causing her to shout in surprise and draw her legs up closer to her chest to avoid them being shot.

A grenade launcher fired, and Hamna followed the gaze of the others and identified Private Ydenko. He was not a grenadier, but carried an under barrel launcher and a few rounds. Hamna took a grenade round of her own from the sling over her armor, unclasping her M319 from her back and opening its breach and sliding the grenade in. "Sutton, Cohen," she said, waving her hands to indicate too the two privates with her to lean in. "Im gonna pop a grenade at those skirmishers on the roof, I need you two to cover me. When I give the order, just spray anything that moves. If it tries to kill me, I want you to cut the fucker in half, you understand?"

Hamna didn't wait for a response before pressing her coms and speaking into the little mic by her lips. "Ydenko," she said. "We gotta take out those skirmishers on the roof, otherwise we're gonna get pinned. When I give the order, pop a grenade at them. Sutton and Cohen will cover us." Isra continued her breathing, in through the nose and out through the mouth. She hoped her actions would not ruffled the Staff Sergeants feathers, considering as he had effectively assumed command, but at the same time she didn't care. She wanted those skirmishers gone before they became a major problem, and she wasn't going to wait for permission to take care of that issue. Before she could hesitate for too long, and hopefully before any of her soldiers could second guess the orders she had given them, Hamna shouted a quick and decisive "Now! Cover me!" and popped up from behind her cover. She leveled her grenade launcher at the top of the building where the two Skirmishers were, and watched as one swiveled its head to her and realization dawned on its face. She pulled the trigger, feeling more than hearing the dry thump of her weapon firing and watching in rapt fascination as the black dot of the grenade soured through the air. She did not watch it make impact, but listened intently to the roar of the grenade going off, shattering the concrete of the building and, she hoped, killing the skirmishers above them and leveling the playing field of the fight.

[Tayner]

Private William McBride
October 20, 2552; 1514 hours, Military Standard Time
322nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

Suddenly the Marines of First Squad opened fire, one rifleman immediately killing a sniper as another fired a grenade, simply blowing away the covenant snipers. Another fired a grenade at a brute, particularly close to Second Squad's position. McBride looked over and saw it was Ydenskov who fired the shot. "Check your fire dickwad!" He called over to the Russian national as he looked back at the group of brutes. Ydenskov's intended target wasn't mad, it was only angry that it's power armor was destroyed. Before rushing towards the squad, it gave a guttural roar.

Four of the brutes engaged First Squad directly, while McBride observed that the squad of regular grunts, skirmishars, and jackals continued to engage second squad with the help of its brute leader and another brute minor. Shit. McBride thought as he swung his weapon up to engage, before noticing the rushing brute. "Shoot that baby-kong motherfucker!" He yelled, bringing his M90 CAWS to bear, letting out three 8 gauge slugs in rapid succession, two striking it's chest and the third it's face.

With a groan the brute fell to the ground, dead. It's friends however, seemed angry with the loss of their comrade and pressed their assault. McBride grabbed cover by a traffic barricade, swearing as spikes clipped away the steel and pavement cover. Second squad was doing well to defend themselves now, killing a few grunts and skirmishes, but the enemy was closing in, covered by shield-wielding jackals as they advanced. The Marines of First Sauad managed to delay the demise of Second Sauad, but the threat was still real to every Marine.

[Estonland]

Corporal Mackinley
October 20, 2552; 1515 Hours, Military Standard Time
332nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

Corporal Mackinley hid behind a wrecked police car with her MA5. Just ahead she could see Sergeant Tabatabai shooting the Covies, and behind her were the privates. She shrugged and checked her rifle. Only 1 magazine left out of the original six she had, with no grenades. How one could deplete five magazines in under an hour was another question, but Mackinley was used to this. She was in Reach, where nobody had enough rounds to stop the damned aliens and they wouldn't have the rounds now. Mackinley suddenly coughed blood and looked in shock, and saw the huge sniper wound on her left shoulder. All Mackinley could do before fainting was a cry of "Medic!", and then all was black.

[Anowa]

Hospital Corpsman First Class Ørjan Aleksandersen
October 20, 2552; 1515 Hours, Military Standard Time
332nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

Under fire, the 64 year old man jogged to a outcropping of concrete one of the buildings on the side of the road had. Cars were hardly something one could call cover. Unless you were behind the engine block the covie's projectile weapons, like the Carbine and Spiker would rip through it and into you instead. Not to mention it's literally chock full of liquid hydrogen. Not to mention that plams alikes to either melt or superheat vehicle frames. Thermodynamics sucks. Sure, the HC-1500s look inviting, but it's literally a box truck, God forbid the gas tanks go up or there's nothing in the back, then it's just a really big, metal bush.

Leaning out of cover, he took aim at one of the Grunts, safety off, and pulled the trigger on the HB he had in his hands. Single burp of the rifle and one tracer plowed into the stout bastard's brainpan. A few metallic spikes rained down on Ørjan, forcing him to duck back into cover. Terrifying thing about those spikes: they weren't solid. If one bothered to pick the rifle up and look inside the magazine they'd find a number of rather thick cylinders. Nothing close to the spike that'd turn your innards black. The barrel superheated the cylinder, and it turned into a spike via aerodynamics. It lead to a rather daunting display when you came around to BK battle sites.

"Medic!"

Ørjan's ears immediately perked up. 'Medic' wasn't 'Corpsman' but when you're shot the difference doesn't really matter. His head popped out of cover again trying to pinpoint who said what, and he spotted a prone, limp form bleeding out into the asphalt. Fire was still raining through the air, but he had to save someone's life.

With a quick breath the man took off, aging legs betraying his age, as the runner was at the dying Corporal's side in seconds.

First thing, check pulse. Valid, but weak. Second was spot wound. hard to miss, seeing as the girl had an entry wound at the shoulder, no visible exit. With the amount of blood coming in a pulsing spurt out, an artery somewhere got destroyed as well. Casting a look to the girl's mouth, the blood gave a good enough indication. A long time ago, someone in Ørjan's poisition would've let the girl die, seeing as they couldn't do anything. Problem was, depending on where the exit wound was, made diagnosing and taking the proper action difficult. Pulling his knife out of it's sheath, he yanked the emergency release on the girl's armor, casting it aside as the exit wound was now fairly evident. Just left of the sternum.

Her lung was perforated, which no matter what course of action was a bad thing. Usually you'd slap a sealant sticker on the wound and call it a day, but there was an arterial bleed somewhere, which meant that he had to use biofoam as a surefire way to keep the girl alive. But biofoam could cause complications with the lung, which varied from clots to tissue necrosis or, ironically, septic shock down the line, meaning that no matter what she'd be getting a flash cloned lung if he used it.

Arterial bleed took priority. So he took a rather large tube of aerosol off his rear belt, and unfolded it, before stuffing the nozzle into the wound on her shoulder. Depressing the lever, and jetting the whole channel full of what would feel like millions of ants biting at the inside of you. Going over to the exit wound, he did the same. The golfball sized hole showing bits of bone. The girl likely passed out from the pain.

Next was determining what went through her. If it was a needle, she'd be covering a area about two meters in diamter. So it wasn't that, and a Spiker would still be in her. So that left a covie fuel rod. Not much he could do besides inject her with iodine, but the rods weren't made of iodine, so there wasn't else he could do, beside wait for her to wake up and let her know she was down for a bit.

[Turmenista]

SSGT Brandon Hayden
New Mombasa, Earth / 2552

First squad bounded across the street post haste, the marines pausing at times to cover the advance of their comrades as they rounded the corner of 322nd and 403rd street, taking cover behind the cars and traffic barricades that littered the street. Second Squad were holed up inside a storefront while a group of covenant hammered their position: Five brutes were already there, supplemented by a phantom that dropped off a squad of grunts and skirmishers, a sixth brute leading the group. Using their superior mobility, the Skirmishers easily leaped up atop a building to gain some altitude.

Oh no you don't, motherfuckers. He eyed the snipers and collection of Brutes that were encroaching upon the store.

"Engage!" He ordered, raising his own weapon as he began firing in short bursts. "I need one team on those skirmishers, the rest focusing on those brutes. Corpsman, get ready for some first aid! Someone get on comms to let Second know we're here!"

The two sides exchanged fire, SSGT Hayden digging himself in to his cover as he began firing at the Brutes in particular, who once again began soaking up his damage as if they didn't even know it was there. The thuunk of a grenade launcher caught his attention as an explosion appeared near the center of the storefront, undoubtedly killing one of the Brutes. PFC Ydenskov had been to blame here, whom he would've berated for firing a 40mm so close to Second Squad had he not been so busy.

Keeping his MA5B pointed downrange as he kept firing, SSGT Hayden wasn't sure if the armor of that big, juicy Brute bastard that was making the reticle on his HUD eyepiece turn bright red was invulnerable, or if he was just too good at soaking up damage. He seemed unfazed to most of his bursts, or any damage, for that matter, still firing his crude spike-gun at the First Squad, making Brandon even more pissed off. With one final effort, he popped up out of cover and squeezed down the trigger, the combined fire from his rifle and the rest of the squad finally bringing and end to the Brute's life as he succumbed to the sustained gunfire.

Satisfied with his results, SSGT Hayden dropped his spent magazine and replaced it, moving back behind cover. Now, if only we can do the same to the rest of those mutant monkey motherfuckers.

Unsurprisingly, the damn brute that was hit with the 40mm earlier was still alive, his armor simply sliding off and sparking, destroyed by the grenade. He went berserk, tossing his weapon to the side as he roared, charging the squad. It only took Pvt. McBride's shotgun skills to take down the Brute, felling it before would've entered their lines and quite literally started tearing people up. While Second Squad was apparently doing a swell job in defending themselves, they needed to act quickly if they wanted to lessen the weight on their partners.

The only way they'd be doing that was if they took out the Brutes. Enraged that they were still existing on his street, he called back to the rest of his squad on comms, beginning to fire more bursts at the mix of Brutes and grunts. "Why the hell is this hodgepodge of mutant monkey alien fuckers still alive? Focus your fire on the Brutes! That'll leave the little guys scared shitless!"

Suddenly bobbing his head to the side, SSGT Hayden listened to comms as PFC Sutton asked to toss a frag at the group, as if he were psychically answering his question. Of course, his answer came quickly, and he already knew what to say. "Let them have it, Sutton! Make sure you don't frag second squad while you're at it. The rest of you, why aren't these goddamn Brutes dead yet?"

[Futrellia]

Private First Class Cody Sutton
October 20, 2552; 1515 Hours, Military Standard Time

---

"Let them have it, Sutton! Make sure you don't frag second squad while you're at it.

Despite the initial appeal of a vehicle to use as cover against these covvies, it couldn't hold together after so many sheets of Covenant plasma fire and was now, effectively, disintegrating. Hearing the Staff Sergeant's confirmation to use his grenade against these fuckers made Cody smile, which was quickly peeled back after a plasma bolt whisked past his ear, ripping a hole right through his crumbling cover. With just he and Private Cohen behind it, this truck was no longer a viable option for cover against the Covenant forces. Fifteen feet across the street gave him his answer: a tiny alleyway between two buildings, just enough to squeeze two Marines into it. It was slightly in front of the lines drawn by his squad, but Cody deduced that once the frag hit the ground, every enemy within range would duck and cover or at least stop firing at him long enough for him to dart across and into it. He wasn't going to leave behind Cohen, though, and turned to bump his shoulder. "See that alleyway at your eleven o'clock! When this frag hits their lines and says hello, I say we take it! This truck's gonna be shredded in about thirty seconds!"

With that said, Sutton pulled the pin on the grenade, hearing the familiar click that he had burned into his mind during the UCMB. "Frag out!!" Screamed Cody as he slung the grenade over him. The combination of nerves and his heart beating so hard and fast made his hands shaky and because of this, he hoped that he hadn't over or under thrown this fragmentation grenade. It had to be spot on. He smiled wide as he peeked to the side of the truck just enough to see the little green ball of fury bounce right into the middle of the pack. "Moving!"

[Vacif]

Private Jude Cohen
October 20, 2552; 1515 hours, Military Standard Time
322nd Street, Westbound, New Mombasa, Earth

The bright blue ammo counter quickly ticked down as Jude fired burst after burst. One grunt, two grunt, red grunt, blue grunt. Their bodies dropped one over the other as their leader ordered them to stop being cowards. How well it was working out for them was was visible to all. Jude grinned as the methane tank on one of them detonated in a green haze.

"Sutton, Cohen," It was Sergeant Tabatabai. "I'm gonna pop a grenade at those skirmishers on the roof, I need you two to cover me. When I give the order, just spray anything that moves. If it tries to kill me, I want you to cut the fucker in half, you understand?"

"Got it!" Jude ejected his half spent magazine and slotted in another. Fire select flicked onto automatic.

"Now! Cover me!"

Jude popped out of cover and began firing. Didn't really matter what it was, as long as it was alien. Recoil was a bitch but their cover was a good brace. Shields flared as high calibre rounds smashed into them.

'THUMP'

An explosion rocked the battle space as the rooftop had been effectively cleared. If anything was still up there, it wasn't alive now. Jude wasn't able to sight see for long as some molten metal slammed into the flipped car. The car had been pretty solid cover in-thus-far but had its run. It was starting to... well smoke. He knew what came next, and he didn't plan on sticking around.

"See that alleyway at your eleven o'clock! When this frag hits their lines and says hello, I say we take it! This truck's gonna be shredded in about thirty seconds!"

He turned to their squad leader. "Sergeant, we need to move! Cody and I are pushing up."

"Frag out!!" Screamed Cody. His squadmate made a break for the alleyway. "Moving!" Jude didn't like this, the alleyway in his opinion. Not much space the maneuver and grouping up made them a target. The Sergeant however probably wouldn't be joining them. Three's a crowd after all. Jude however despite not liking the alley option would take it, not wanting to leave Cody alone. Ahead of them a group of Jackals pushed forward towards second squad, marching in unison with some kind of neon shield wall. As he ran, he dropped to the ground, sliding into cover. Prone, he leveled the rifle on the bird's skinny legs and fired. The high caliber rounds easily tore flesh from bone, and dropped them screaming, leaving an opening in the formation.