Furby, J.
Marines
Fire Team Rifleman
Posts: 123
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 19
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: Canadian
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Post by Furby, J. on Feb 1, 2015 23:18:07 GMT -5
The battle, which had at first been looking pretty dicey, was starting to turn in their favor. Jayson attested this to the arrival of Killinger's convoy, whose added firepower had sent the Covenant scrambling and ducking for cover. The roar of the LAAGs was enough to get his blood pumping again. Not that it hadn't been already, but it was an excellent motivator, nonetheless.
A round came uncomfortably close to his face, the heat blistering his cheek. He hissed in pain and crouched down behind the sandbags. Avery looked at him between bursts, seeming concerned. "You okay, bro?" he asked, looking back down the sights to unleash another burst downrange.
Furby nodded. "Yeah," he said through gritted teeth, "I almost took a round to the face."
"That sucks," Avery said, the grin apparent in his voice, "it might've made you easier to look at."
Jay was just about to retort when he noticed that the convoy had left, the absence of the LAAGs easily noticeable. It was then that orders were barked, and Corporal Davis told him and Avery to reload. Jay thumbed the eject and caught the magazine as it fell. It wasn't empty, so he placed it in one of his pouches, and finished reloading with a full mag.
The digital ammo counter on his BR went from 00 to 36. He flipped the selector to semiautomatic and set the weapon down on top of the sandbags for support. With the weapon stabilized, he peered down the scope and scanned for targets. He spotted an Elite poking its head out from around a vehicle, and he sent a round its way to discourage it from getting any ideas.
Avery slammed the feed shut on his M247 and fired a couple of bursts to persuade the enemy to keep their heads down, then waited for the order that they both knew was coming. And come it did. Sergeant Stone gave the order and Third Team moved forward with surprising speed. Furby let loose with his BR, covering their advance by ensuring none of the enemy had the chance to pop up and take a shot at Skip and his team.
Avery added his own fire to the mix, the sound of spent brass clacking to the permacrete below ringing in Furby's ears. Jay glanced at his ammo counter. He had twenty rounds left in the magazine. In a stroke of genius, lyrics popped into his head. "I'm 'bout to pop some Covies," he said in a singsong tune. "Only got twenty rounds in my rifle, I-I'm 'bout to kill 'em, this is fucking awesome!"
Avery laughed. "Where the fuck did that come from?"
Furby shrugged, and sent another round out that punctured a Grunt's eye. "It just came to me, man."
"Bit of advice?"
"What's that?"
Avery chuckled. "Take singing lessons, bro. You sound like a dying horse."
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Ward, J.
Marines
"Semper Fi, do or die!"
Posts: 81
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 18
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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Post by Ward, J. on Feb 2, 2015 2:39:42 GMT -5
In all of his eighteen years alive, Jon never imagined he would have so much power at his fingertips. The heavy machine gun he operated fired away, eviscerating anything he turned its immense firepower on. His arms rattled from the sheer kinetic energy of the weapon's recoil. It was glorious.
He was having the time of his life, which was such an odd notion in his mind when he knew he should have been scared. But there was no room for fear with the amount of adrenaline that flooded his system, and behind the machine gun, he felt utterly untouchable. In fact, when a stray plasma round collided with the armored plate that jutted out from the side of the weapon to protect the operator, he barely noticed it.
His reply was a simple one. He turned the weapon on the alien whom had the gall to shoot at him and tore it in half with a wall of blazing hot lead. He paused from firing to reload occasionally, but for the most part he just kept on shooting. And with the added firepower of the convoy behind them, the Covenant had taken to remaining hidden behind cover. A few popped out here and there to return fire, but most were smart enough to know that that was a fool's gambit.
In order to return fire, they had to expose themselves, and leaving themselves exposed for even a second would more than likely result in fatal consequences. Now was the perfect time for the Marines to take control of the situation and drive the Covenant off the bridge, and Ward was happy to know that he would be able to cover them from his position without a problem. He could easily keep the enemy pinned down with his weapon, no problem.
And it seemed that he would be doing just that. The voice of Corporal Davis echoed across the bridge to where he stood, informing him to keep up the fire while Second and Third Team made a push forward. He knew what was going to happen. They were going to keep the enemy pinned while the two teams advanced and flanked them, catching them in a pincer maneuver that would either force the Covenant to fall back or put them in body bags.
I wonder if aliens even use body bags, Ward mused as he waited for orders to come down the pipe. Stone didn't keep him waiting long, as a moment later he ordered Bravo and Charlie to execute their push forward. When Charlie bounded up, Ward let loose with his machine gun, lighting up a vehicle roughly thirty meters downrange that he had seen Covenant flock to.
Bullets pinged and panged into the vehicle, leaving fresh half-dollar sized holes in its frame. There was a loud, resounding pop and a hiss of air as one of the rounds punctured the rear driverside tire. The break light cover shattered into a million bits and pieces as a bullet tore through it, and Jon could have sworn he heard an inhuman cry of agony coming from outside the vehicle on the passenger side.
Sure enough, he spotted a pool of blood spilling out from behind the vehicle. It was primarily purple, but he noticed splotches of blue and black mixed in the pool as well. He'd probably just annihilated an entire enemy team just then, and that thought brought him a huge level of satisfaction. The more Covenant he killed, the less there were out there killing and maiming other human beings.
Jon released the triggers and scanned for more targets as Charlie Team reached their destination. He panned the weapon to the left, and as he conned that way for the enemy, he failed to see a Jackal with a Carbine stand up and aim right for him. One of the soldiers beside him yelled "Look out!" and hosed the alien with a burst from his assault rifle.
Jon turned and saw the alien laying on the ground, a fresh pool of blood accumulating underneath its back. He darted his eyes to the soldier whom had saved him, his rifle still up and the muzzle smoking, and gazed at him in shock. "... Thanks." he said, quietly.
The soldier lowered his weapon and shook his head. "Don't worry about it, kid."
Suddenly, Jon felt himself coming down from his adrenaline-induced high. That had been close. If it weren't for that soldier being there, he would have certainly been a dead man. "Stay frosty," the soldier said. "You still got more of your guys moving up."
Ward, in his shock from almost dancing with death, had let go of the machine gun. He took hold of it and placed his fingers over the triggers, ready to press them in should the need for more cover fire arise. At the moment he was just giving the barrels a for seconds to cool down some, as the last thing he needed was for the weapon to overheat and melt.
And this time, he would be more careful with his scanning.
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Upshaw, J.
Marines
"If you fuck with me, I'll kill you all." - Mad Dog
Posts: 7
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 21
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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Post by Upshaw, J. on Feb 2, 2015 4:06:22 GMT -5
One might assume with the name 'Phoenix III', it would be a warm planet. Hot, even. Instead, Phoenix III was a fucking tundra, much like Iceland being green and Greenland being arctic, he thought to himself. His entire thirteen man squad had died in the span of what was probably close to ten minutes, and here he was already kissing up to his new CO by taking his place with the cot of MREs.
"With all due respect, Sir. You'd think with the technology available today, we'd have more capabilities to carry MREs than a cot. HIGHCOM cut our funding that bad? Must be something big goin' on." He thought to himself, wondering where the future of combat was heading. He didn't care much, as long as he lived long enough to make a dent in the Covenant's line-up.
A few more minutes of bitching (as one does as a Lance Corporal) and they arrived at Bridge One. He saw towards the middle of the bridge, there was a firefight in-progress. They had started the party, and their special guest hadn't even arrived yet. How rude. He walked over to get behind some cover on the near side of the bridge, waiting until the man on the other end of the cot was ready to drop. With a quick one, two, three, they set the cot down, prompting John to kneel, removing his ruck to fill in the rest of his space with MREs (with more-or-less critically acclaimed entrees, for the record). He nodded to the man before him, removing his rifle and moving over to address his CO, "I'm gonna head down there and bring a few of these with me, I bet those boys've been there for a while. Thanks for the opportunity, Sir." He inclined his head and kept low, shouldering his rifle to make his way to the 'line', so to speak.
On the way he passed the Casualty Colletion Point, which he totally ignored. He didn't want to know the numbers. He was in it to win it, and reminding him of his morality impeded that. Further ahead was the line, which he dropped behind when he approached. "Looks like you boys need a DM!" He sounded off over plasma fire. He dropped his ruck, opening the top before tipping it over to spill out a handful of MREs, "Figured you guys might be hungry, brought as many as I could carry with me. All the good shit, one of that dog chow." His appetite died down a while ago, he'd eat when he was dead.
He popped his head between a small gap in the road blocks to get a positive sight picture on some of the farther targets. Roughly thirty meters out. A difficult shot for Assault Rifles, but for a BR-55, not so. After getting a good idea who he was gonna hit, he shouldered his rifle, getting ready before popping up to a kneeling position to open fire on the farthest target he could hit. A Kig-Yar with portable shield. The most effective way to take them down when their shields were up was to hit any exposed flesh, get them to stagger, then pop a quick headshot, which is exactly what he intended to do.
Brtt, brtt! Brtt, brtt! He knew the formula well, and repeated on as many Kig-Yar he could muster hitting in about fifteen seconds of kneeling, before going back down to reload, having spent his mag.
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Post by Flannigan, S. on Feb 2, 2015 15:28:33 GMT -5
Flannigan let the new guy carry the load, impressed that he was willing to take it on without being asked. Totino shot him a look that begged him to take part of the back but Flannigan just offered a toothy grin before leading them up the onramp and towards the bridge. The sounds of fighting grew more intense as they closed in on the front, but Flannigan didn't flinch. They reached a good point to ground the MRE's and did so, Upshaw rushing up the rest of the ramp to the sounds of the fighting. Flannigan was pleased, knowing he would need to write up transfer papers if they survived this operation.
"Corporal, we need to find Lieutenant Durant," Flannigan said offhand. "Let him know the situation."
"Roger sir," Totino said, quickly working his HUD to find the requested information. Flannigan could have learned how to do it himself, but it would take twice as long as his RTO, and it left work for the Corporal. "Follow me sir, and please keep hands and feet in the vehicle till the end of the tour."
Flannigan rolled his eyes and followed Totino up over the rise that had become the invisible line between the warzone and just another part of the city. The flashes of plasma and roar of machine guns was replaced by actual plasma rounds and the hiss of bullets. Flannigan and Totino hurried to cover, trying to stay low. They both slammed into the car they took cover behind, the smell of burning metal radiated off the car as stray plasma rounds struck it.
"Is this part of the tour Corporal," Flannigan asked with a smirk. "Because I think I want my money back."
"The best part is still coming sir," Totino said with a laugh. "Break around the front, I'll go back, and we'll meet at that pile of sand twenty five meters up. GO!"
Flannigan left his safety to the Corporal and didn't argue team tactics with him. Pulling his rifle up, Flannigan let off two bursts towards the enemy, striking an Elite. It didn't even grab his attention, but it did flair his shields, making Flannigan happy he hit his mark. He then slid into the next piece of cover with the Corporal. Smoke wasted off his shoulder and Flannigan gave his a questioning look.
"Just singed me a bit. Didn't even hit sir. The LT is over there."
Flannigan looked over to see Durant and his RTO right where Totino pointed. He hustled over and ducked behind their cover as well. He nodded to Private Wilkas before talking to Durant without comms.
"Just thought I'd stop in to see how you boys were doing," Flannigan said, his tone sounding like they had stopped in for tea. "I also brought chow and an extra body. Picked him up from No-Co. You'll need to get him on comms after this assault is over. What's your situation here Lieutenant?"
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McMillan, J.
Navy
"Born to heal, ready to fight."
Posts: 36
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 23
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: Propitian (Irish)
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Post by McMillan, J. on Feb 8, 2015 0:10:05 GMT -5
The tide had turned, as fortune would have it, in Second Platoon's favor. Major Killinger's convoy had offered the Marines and remaining soldiers some breathing room, as the Covenant did not want to get caught out in the open while the LAAGs tore apart anything that even remotely presented itself as a target. However, despite the turn of events, the bridge's defenders were not yet out of the woodworks.
Killinger's convoy dropped off a large supply of ammunition and then left as quickly as it came. The absence of the convoy's big guns immediately became apparent, and although the defenders managed to maintain a heavy volume of fire on the enemy, Mac was sure their Elite overseers were already devising a plan to give themselves some wiggle room. That was why the Covenant needed to be taken care of swiftly, lest the battle turn into another drawn-out stalemate again.
And a costly one.
So far the Marines had been fortunate. Far more fortunate than the Army had been in regards to the amount of wounded sustained so far. For the moment there weren't any serious casualties aside from Private Robin, and she would soon be in the hands of some very capable corpsmen once the dust-off bird arrived to whisk her away. Until then, however, she was Mac's responsibility.
Thus the reason he quickly returned to her side after he'd finished patching up Baldwin's (arguably) more minor wounds. At the moment his main concern was her obvious head injury, though the possibility of internal bleeding came in a close second. Both had the potential to become fatal, and it would be a toss up on which would do her in first if she was not evacuated out and soon.
The internal bleeding was not something that Mac had the resources to fix. Not in the middle of a battlefield, and certainly not with the equipment he had on hand. He hoped, with fingers crossed, that if there was bleeding, that it was a slow bleed. If she was bleeding fast internally, or from multiple organs, than his prognosis would be a grim one indeed.
However, in theory, he could manage the injury to Robin's skull. It wouldn't be pretty, and most certainly not recommended, but if it would inevitably save her life, he could do it. McMillan had in his medkit a few instruments he could use to drill into the Private's head and alleviate the pressure inside of her skull if there was swelling of her brain occurring.
It wasn't something he would prefer to do without the appropriate equipment that was afforded to him in other places, but he would do it if it meant saving a life. And judging from the fact that she was still unconscious and her breathing hadn't improved since he'd first checked her out, he was almost certain that that was what was happening. If the swelling continued unchecked, the end results would be fatal.
Mac made a snap decision. He seized his medkit and opened it up, rifling through its contents for the tools he would need. He set them on the ground beside them, including the sterile field generator he would need to sterilize his makeshift operating room of any harmful bacteria and other pesky foreign entities.
McMillan deployed the generator and turned it on. It came to life with a dull him, and an almost neon green bubble of energy engulfed both himself and Private Robin, sterilizing the area between them and around them. He grabbed a scalpel and hovered just over the Private. "Well," he said, trying to sound confident in what he was about to do, "here goes nothing..."
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Stringer, K.
Marine Recon Scout
Fire Team Leader
Posts: 155
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 22
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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Post by Stringer, K. on Feb 9, 2015 2:52:08 GMT -5
Stringer was once again bringing down as much pain and hurt onto the Covenant as he could with his BR55. He was now firing with the weapon in semi-auto to try and reserve a little bit of ammo for the big push that first squad would make. When that would happen, he would have the other half of his fireteam, Silva and Lawrence move up and rejoin him and Gray. He figured when they reached the position he and Gray were holding, he would ask them who it was that killed the elite that had his number, but was instead cut down.
That's when the message came through his headset. Mason was ordering second squad to start providing covering fire for first squad. Stringer ducked down into cover and pushed the PTT for his headset.
"Omen Two-Two-Charlie to Actual, roger that! Two-Two-Charlie-Three, you copy that? You're moving up to my position, over!" Stringer listened to Silva's response and focused on the firefight at hand. He stood up and aimed over the cover.
"Gray, light those alien fuckers up! First is moving up now!" Stringer began to fire rapidly at the covenant, first firing at a line of grunts and a few jackals. The grunts couldn't survive the onslaught in the open, but the jackals were merely trying to balance their personal energy shields as the rounds impacted against them. Stringer continued to fire at the jackals, seeing them as the main threat since the grunts were all but eliminated under a good amount of fire. The jackals on the other hand would take some focused fire or a weapon meant for more than infantry.
Stringer fired the rest of his magazine at the jackals before hearing a click. He ejected the magazine and reached into his combat webbing. At this point, he only had three magazines left full of ammo. He reached and grabbed one, replacing it with the empty one, now only having one part of the webbing that held full magzines. He racked the charging handle and turned to aim over the cover once more. He saw the jackals were falling back under the intense fire of his fireteam, the rest of second squad and all of first squad, along with what army troops remained. He then noticed that first squad assault team was starting to move up towards his position, some moving past him, as he heard movement, turning and taking cover as he noticed Silva and Lawrence reaching his position.
"Glad you could make it ladies! Now, let's show these alien sons-of-bitches what marines can do! Light em' the fuck up, and lets take this bridge back!"
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The Bridge
Feb 15, 2015 22:22:35 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Durant, M. on Feb 15, 2015 22:22:35 GMT -5
((OOC: Since Gray and Faust have both communicated that they are unable to post due to busy schedules, and I haven't heard anything from Mason, I have decided to go ahead and post. Wilkas, I hope you don't mind me semi-controlling Faust for a moment. Nothing major, just saying she and her team moved up.))
The tables of the battle on the bridge had seemingly turned in Second Platoon's favor. Durant noticed this as he observed Second and Third Team advance on the Covenant, whom were thoroughly pinned down by a high volume of fire dealt by Second Squad. The aliens could not retreat lest they expose themselves to the incoming hailstorm of lead, and they could not return fire for the same reasons.
However, something told him that the Covenant had a card up their sleeve. Since he had joined Oscar Company and faced the aliens in combat, he'd known them to be devilishly clever. They were not the type to just lie down and take the hand that was given to them. He imagined whoever was in charge of the remaining enemy squad was right now planning his next move, even as the Marines closed in on his position.
It was what he would do were he filling the boots of that Elite.
The Lieutenant glanced at the unconscious form of Private Robin. McMillan leaned over her with tools in hand, exhausting every effort to keep her alive until the evac bird arrived to whisk her away to the field hospital back at the battalion's command post. The gruesome task that he faced was one that Durant did not envy in the slightest. He could not imagine what must have been running through the corpsman's mind as he realized he needed to drill a hole in the unconscious woman's skull.
Movement out of the corner of his eye stole his attention, and he was met with the sight of Captain Flannigan and Corporal Totino, much to his genuine surprise. He hadn't expected the company commander to show up out of the blue so suddenly, and yet in retrospect he probably should have. It was totally within the man's character to do so.
Durant nodded at his CO and resisted the urge to salute him, remembering that he was in a combat zone and such an action would only serve to paint a target on the Irishman's chest. "We've managed to hold the Covenant at bay, and are making the final push to kick the heathens off the bridge, sir," Durant reported. He gestured with his head towards Private Robin and Doc. "Private Robin sustained critical injuries and I've called for CASEVAC. I haven't heard anything -"
Static filled his headset speakers just then, and the stern voice of the battalion's Forward Air Controller came in over the radio. "Omen Two, this is Chaos FAC, be advised: CASEVAC inbound to your pos. ETA three mikes. How copy? Over."
Speak of the Devil.
The Lieutenant unhooked the handset from off Wilkas pack and pressed it against his ear. "Chaos FAC, this is Omen Two, solid copy. Be advised: pick-up site is hot. Recommend escort to accompany dust-off. Over."
"Roger, Omen Two," Captain Hannon replied. "Will relay. Contact Shadowcat Zero-One on TAD One. Out."
Durant set the handset back down on Wilkas's pack. He looked at her. "Switch channels. TAD One," he ordered her. The Lieutenant turned to Flannigan. "CASEVAC is en route now. They're three minutes out, sir. We're going to evac the Army's wounded too while they're here."
He looked over at McMillan, whom was still working tediously to keep Private Robin among the living. Just as he was about to let the corpsman know that help was on the way, he felt the ground quake beneath his feet. And then again. And again. And again.
Something told him to look down range, where the bridge gently rose up and leveled out at its center, a manmade hill. The sound of armor clanking together like chainmail reached his eyes in unison with the tremors that rocked the bridge beneath him. That noise was eerily familiar to him, like he had heard it once before, but couldn't quite place where he'd heard it.
He groped for the memory through the thick fog of his mind. The more he reached, the more elusive the memory became. It was as if his mind didn't want him to recall what that sound was, like some kind of internal defense mechanism that he hadn't known he'd had. It was beginning to annoy the fuck out of him. Before he could grasp the memory, his eyes caught glimpse of the source of the tremors.
His eyes went wide, and realization hit him harder than a MAC round.
Cresting the hill were a pair of Hunters. Standing at twelve feet tall, wearing thick, bulky blue armor, and wielding arm-mounted fuel rod cannons, the Hunters were essentially walking tanks. In their other arm was a shield almost as tall as the Hunters themselves, capable of sustaining incredible punishment.
Durant had personally witnessed Hunters wiping out entire platoons within minutes of initiating contact. They were a force to be reckoned with, and one never to be taken lightly. Anything short of heavy weapons would not be enough to take them down, unless his Marines could get a shot on their unarmored midsections, or, even less likely, their unprotected necks.
"HUNTERS!" Sergeant Stone screamed, his voice laced with fear.
Durant realized the Hunters were the ace up the Covenant's sleeve. Their rebuttal to the supposed advantage gained by Second Platoon. Mike immediately keyed his push-to-talk. "All callsigns, concentrate your fire on the Hunters! I say again, put everything you got on those Hunters!" He released the PTT and ripped the handset off of Wilkas's pack. "Chaos FAC, this is Omen Two Actual, requesting CAS at my pos. Danger close! Two Heavies, fifty meters out. How copy?"
"Solid copy. Standby."
Durant didn't want to standby. Not for one fucking second. The longer he waited, the greater the chance those Hunters would open fire on his Marines. If those Hunters opened fire...
Marines would die.
The Covenant lance, reinvigorated by the arrival of the Hunters, jumped out of cover and let loose a volley of plasma and needle fire. Corporal Skip and Faust's teams were caught out in the open, in between the two groups. Lance Corporal Scoggins was impaled in the chest by a needle round. He had enough time to let out a bloodcurdling scream before the crystalline share exploded.
His chest was blown wide open, and his guts spilled out onto the ground as he fell to the ground, a lifeless corpse. A plasma bolt knicked Corporal Skip's shoulder, burning into his shoulder pauldron. He shouted in shock and hastily removed the pauldron before the plasma could burn completely through it, sparing himself from injury.
"COVER!" he shouted to his team as he ducked behind a car left abandoned in between both lanes. The remaining two Marines in his team bolted into cover, not wanting to meet the same fate as Scroggins.
The Covenant were regaining their momentum, and the two fire teams of First Squad were in the worst place they could possibly be.
Something needed to be done soon, or they'd be goners for sure.
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Stone, T.
Marines
Squad Leader
There's nothin' I love more than killin' me some split-jawed bastards!
Posts: 116
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 39
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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Post by Stone, T. on Feb 16, 2015 2:54:36 GMT -5
Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat. Rat-a-tat-a-tat.
The report of the MA5C echoed in Stone's ears with each burst he fired. He scanned for opportune targets while lending his rifle to the mix of suppressive fire that so far was successfully keeping the enemy's heads down. Second Team had reached the position that Third Team had taken, and had set up to cover Skip and his team as they continued to advance.
"Moving!" Corporal Skip announced, and he and his team dashed forward another ten meters before dropping back into cover. Stone knelt down behind cover when his assault rifle clicked empty, ejecting the spent magazine onto the ground. He felt around his combat webbing for another mag until his hands met purchase. Unsnapping the flap on one of his vest's pouches, he pulled out a full thirty-two round magazine and brought it home.
With a wrack of the charging handle, he was back in the fight. He thumbed the fire selector onto semi-auto and fired the weapon in two round bursts, double tapping the trigger. Stone wanted to conserve on ammunition while there weren't any targets for him to shoot at. There was enough rounds going down range to keep the Covenant pinned, so there wasn't any real good reason why he should blow through his ammo.
And then he felt it. The bridge suddenly shook out of nowhere underneath his feet. At first Stone thought he'd imagined it, but then there it was again. Immediately a terrifying thought entered his mind that chilled him to the bone. The hairs on the back of his neck stood erect, and he could feel goosebumps forming all over his skin.
Then he heard that sound. A racket very reminiscent to the noise made by ancient chainmail armor worn by the knights of legend on Earth. He'd heard that sound before hundreds of times, and it was not one he ever wished to hear. Stone knew before he saw them that Hunters were approaching, and the color quickly drained from his face when he spotted them cresting the rise.
"HUNTERS!" he screamed, his voice no longer holding its usual stoic quality. He sounded frightened, and he was. Hunters were no joke; a force not to be trifled with or taken lightly.
They were a serious threat.
One mistake and the platoon was dead meat.
"Concentrate fire on those fuckin' Hunters," Stone barked over the symphony of war. "TLs, hit those assholes with forty mikes-mikes! Aim fer their midsections!"
Stone was about to take aim on the nearest of the pair of Hunters when he noticed the Covenant exiting cover. Corporal Skip and his team had started to move up when the bastards popped out, and they opened fire. The grizzled NCO watched in horror as Lance Corporal Scruggs' chest blew open, bloody ribbons flying in all directions as his corpse hit the ground. It reminded him of Harvest, and he couldn't help but think that it was happening all over again.
It took him a moment to process what had happened, and he did, he immediately wished he hadn't. What happened on Harvest was nothing like this. Harvest felt like it was a hundred years ago, the memories buried deep inside Stone's mind.
"Don't let those assholes charge up their cannons, 'n keep 'em at a distance!"
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Davis, E.
Marines
Fire Team Leader
NJP? Why yes, I think I'll have some....
Posts: 235
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 19
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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Post by Davis, E. on Feb 16, 2015 9:33:13 GMT -5
Davis had never seen a hunter before, and wasn't terribly frightened of them until he heard the tension in Stone's voice. Apparently these things were extremely dangerous and it was no time to think, just to act. Davis quickly snapped a 40MM grenade downrange, his accuracy off from the quick shot. He took a knee to reload, glancing over at Ward.
"Cut 'em down Fox," he barked. "I don't care how big those things are, enough lead will cut it in half. POUR IT ON!"
Davis stood back up in time to have a plasma round fly past his face. It wasn't close enough to hurt, but the light burned his eyes and he slammed them shut, taking a knee again. He cursed under his breath, fighting to get his vision straight again. He could hear that battle still raging, but spots were all he could see when he opened his eyes. He knew it wasn't permanent, but it was severely hampering him right now. With a growl, he forced his eyes open and to find a target.
An Elite was herding several grunts and a jackal out of their cover, moving to engage Skip and Charlie Team. Pulling his barrel down, he fired the grenade launcher nearly straight line, dropping it in the midst of the Covenant. The Elite's shield fared and he dove back for cover. Davis's signature smirk drew tight across his face as he reloaded and continued to scan.
"Furby, Avery, keep the close targets pinned. Fox is handling the Hunters. Keep the rest of First Squad alive. They're counting on us."
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Furby, J.
Marines
Fire Team Rifleman
Posts: 123
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 19
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: Canadian
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Post by Furby, J. on Feb 18, 2015 3:39:09 GMT -5
Furby found himself amused by how quickly the tides of battle had turned in their favor as he loosed another burst of seven-six-two downrange at the enemy. What had started as a desperate fight for mere survival had executed a one-eighty degree shift. The Covenant were now the desperate ones in this fight. He paused a moment, lowering his rifle some, to survey the battlefield.
Bodies were strewn across the bridge. The corpses of Grunts, Elites, and a handful of Jackals were everywhere, most leaking multicolored blood all over the slate-gray pavement. Many of the abandoned vehicles around the corpses were either ridden with bulletholes or covered in purple, black, and phosphorescent blue blood. To a civilian it was probably a very polarizing sight to bear witness to.
But to a Marine?
Oh, it was glorious.
Very rarely did one witness such a phenomenon. In Furby's own experience, ever since he was drafted, he'd more often than not seen human bodies and blood strewn everywhere. And the aliens that killed them? They were usually standing triumphantly over the corpses, reveling in their victory.
The Covenant were animals. Vicious, bloodthirsty animals. Unlike human kind, that often considered it taboo to slaughter innocent women and children for no fucking reason, the Covenant did not seem to share the same sensibilities. On Hydra III, Jay witnessed firsthand the brutality of the Covenant, and the experience had certainly scarred him for life.
A pack of Brutes had broken into the home of a wife and her three children. Her husband was a cop, and he'd been killed when the Covenant had invaded initially, but he'd instructed his family prior to his death to pack their belongings and head for the nearest spaceport to be evacuated. First Squad had been ordered to meet up with this woman and her children and escort them, along with a handful of other families on the block.
When the squad arrived, the woman came running out of her home screaming bloody murder. A second later, there was a Spiker round jutting from her stomach. It'd struck her in the back and went through the other side. She fell to the ground and a Brute, covered in human blood, stepped out the front door. It opened fire on the squad, and Furby took cover and tried to get a shot off at the bastard.
The rest of the pack burst out into the yard and pinned First Squad down. Furby shifted to a different position to try and get a better angle on the enemy. When he did, he watched a pair of the Brutes tear into the corpse and begin to devour it. They started by tearing off her arms and ripping the meat off, and then systematically began to finish off the rest of the corpse together.
Jayson was torn from his reverie when the ground suddenly shook beneath his feet. He looked up from the scene of carnage set before him and to the top of the permacrete hill. Immediately he wished he hadn't turned his eyes away from the gob of alien corpses. He spotted the angular helmet first, the design reminding him of all the drawings and pictures he'd seen of Medieval knights. The body soon came into focus, followed by the Hunter's bond brother when the first one fully crested the hill.
Jay had only dealt with Hunters once. It was an experience he would've preferred to have gone without. Out of all of the different types of Covenant troops, Hunters proved to be the most dangerous. Armed with powerful fuel rod cannons and covered in thick armor plating, the Hunters were practically walking tanks, and were by far the toughest to kill.
When the order came from Davis for Ward to light up the Hunters, Jay almost protested. No matter how powerful the firearm, there was no way that Ward would be able to take down the Hunters by himself without knowing what to shoot for.
"Ward," Furby yelled over the roar of gunfire, "Aim for their exposed abdominal areas! You aren't taking those big fuckers down any other way!"
With that, Furby turned his gun on the Covenant troops that had suddenly regained their luster. Avery spared him a quick glance, a look of fear and uncertainty plastered across it, before he aimed down the weapon's sights and opened up with his '247. "We might be screwed, bro," he heard Avery say.
"Fuck it," he replied. "Best job I ever had."
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Silva, J.
Marines
Posts: 46
Character Gender: Female
Character Age: 22
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: New Parisian (French)
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Post by Silva, J. on Feb 18, 2015 8:43:54 GMT -5
The arrival of the Hunters rudely disrupted Silva's machine gun solo on the Covenant Infantry. While as the ordinary Covenant didn't seem to faze her the unsettling, gigantic, unholy mound of armour and orange creatures did. She brought her machine gun round and opened up a storm of hot lead but many of the rounds bounced harmlessly off the armour of those massive aliens. Now it was one thing to fight a enemy, another thing to fight a weird one but it was crushing to fight something like a Hunter and your kick ass gun did bugger all to them! Never the less she kept firing for Silva having not known what else to do elected to follow that option.
Her machine gun clacked empty loudly and she ducked down to reload. Her hands where shaking uncontrolably so she fumbled with the reload, taking far longer than it should have for her to reload the weapon. Janet finally succeeded in reloading her weapon. At least it was done properly so it wouldn't jam or something. The marine hoped not anyway. Silva returned to her position, ready to fire once more. Unfortunately the marine did not get the chance to open fire on the Hunters, a jackal armed with a carbine put a round through the right hand side of her chest. The world exploded in pain. Gritting her teeth she brought the barrel round and caught the alien with a wild burst, exacting retribution for her injury. The Jackal probably would have had her if it wasn't having to reload it's weapon.
From there she collapsed on top of the cover before her legs buckled and gravity ordered her to fall down behind it. A fraction of a second later her weapon joined her on the bridge. Her eyes where blurry with tears so she could not see which one of her fire team stood over her. Silva didn't scream or yell, she wanted to but somehow could not or just wouldn't. She moaned loudly in agony instead. "I..." Blood bubbled at the corner of her lips, indication that the round had penetrated the right lung. "I'm... Hurt b.. Bad huh... Guys?" She forced out, each breath felt like a thousand fire ants were biting her lungs all at once, except their bites where enhanced with liquid napalm coupled with salt and hell fire.
"If... I..." She coughed heavily, finding the strength to scream after all, spitting blood as she cough out of her mouth onto the marine knelt down by her side. "If I don't make you'll tell my family that... That I love them." Janet since she wasn't a doctor lacked the ability to tell how seriously she had been wounded. Silva wanted to tell them that she did not wish to be buried in space, the customary burial for those serving in the UNSC fleet, she would prefer to be buried back on her home world. Yet, thoughts of loved ones filled her head, getting her last words were more important than where she might rest in peace. "Promise me..." Whatever else she intended to say was lost due to a coughing fit. Janet was seriously wounded, not enough to die from it immediately but she would need to see a doctor for surgery at some point, preferably soon or there was a good chance she might have bought the farm.
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Gray, L.
Marines
Posts: 45
Character Gender: Female
Character Age: 21
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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Post by Gray, L. on Feb 18, 2015 14:44:07 GMT -5
Gray listened to the radio chatter that was streaming, keeping pressure on the enemy the whole time and stopping to reload every now and then. Her head was pounding but she was ignoring it the best that she could.Though still groggy Gray was able to acknowledge Lawrence and Silva when they rejoined them. The battle continued to wear on and suddenly the ground shook multiple times. Looking up Gray saw a pair of Hunters cresting the hill, now she had never seen one before but she had heard of them, from the one time her father ever spoke of his experiences of war. "Listen my girl, you will see all kind of things and creatures in battles, but one major one to take note of are Hunters. Now these things are big, orange and a nightmare to kill, but it can be done if you aim at the right place." he had said. What that right place was though, the marine could not recall as she continued to providing covering fire for the teams moving up.
When the Hunters appeared, the Covenant seem to become more bold and Gray saw more marines fall victim to their fire. Suddenly Stringer yelled at her to fire at the hunters and Gray was about aim and fire, when an Elite popped up and launched a grenade at her position. Luckily the grenade fell short of her position, but the resulting blast sent her slamming into the ground and leaving her lying motionless. This time her helmet was blown clean off and her head hit the ground hard again. She was out cold for longer this time and had sustained a nasty wound to the forehead over her right eye, which was bleeding heavily.
When she came round again, she found that every sound now seemed to threaten to shatter her skull, or that was how it felt. Her vision now kept going blurry and the fact that she had blood trickling down one side of her face, did nothing to help matters. As result of what happened, it took longer for the young marine to gather herself to a point where she could resume firing. However Louise Gray was one stubborn marine and only death would keep her from trying to eliminate the enemy. She very slowly rolled over and somehow by sheer grit, managed to stand and resume her fire. Even more unbelievable, was that her shots were still managing to hit most of their targets.
Unfortunately though, because of her dazed state, Gray was unable to react quickly enough when a Jackal aimed straight for her other team mates Silva and Lawrence. Suddenly and without warning she began to vomit as a result of the concussion that she would have more than likely received, having her head being hit hard three times. When she managed to stop vomiting, she tried to refocus on the job in hand.
Meanwhile Lawrence had been also been busy firing. Just as she turned to see how her comrades were doing, she saw Silva get hit in the chest from a carbine round, shot by a Jackle. Lawrence quickly swung her weapon round and fired at the Jackal, but Silva managed to kill it first. She instantly made her way over to where the marine, who let out a scream, was laying. "Silva, Hang on I am here." the marine said to the girl, before yelling to Stringer that one of their team was down. When she reached Silva and knelt by her side, Lawrence could see that her team-mate was hurt badly and would die if they did not get help to her soon. "Silva, Hang on I am here." the marine said to the girl, before she instantly took a deep breath and yelled "CORPSMAN" at the top of her voice. She repeated the call at the top of her voice again, then looked down at Silva and realised that she was trying to speak.
Lawrence bent her head close to Silva so she could hear, what the marine was trying to say. "I promise but I ain't gonna let you die on me. Come hell or high water I will get help for you, got that?" She said, then looked around her and pulled Silva towards cover, trying to avoid damaging or hurting her further. Once under cover, Lawrence yelled for a corpsman at the top of her lungs again, she was not about to lose anyone else. Not now, not ever. She stayed where she was, just cradling Silva, in the hope that it would give the wounded marine some comfort in the fact that she was not alone and praying that the corpsman would arrive in time
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Ward, J.
Marines
"Semper Fi, do or die!"
Posts: 81
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 18
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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The Bridge
Feb 18, 2015 16:06:15 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Ward, J. on Feb 18, 2015 16:06:15 GMT -5
Private Ward was certain that Hunters were the scariest things he'd ever seen. When the first Hunter crested the hill, it took all of the courage he could muster to keep himself planted firmly behind the machine gun. When orders started being barked, it took the words a full half-second to process in his mind, his honey brown eyes glued to the mammoth aliens that lumbered towards the Marines' position.
What made things worse was that the appearance of the Hunters seemed to bolster the Covenant's resolve. The aliens pounced out of cover like tigers ambushing unsuspecting prey, sending a barrage of plasma and needle fire in the direction of the humans. Jon had a front row seat to the gory end to Lance Corporal Scoggins, and a wave of emotion washed over him. He couldn't quite describe how he felt, but he knew it wasn't a good feeling. He'd just witnessed a Marine get cut down right before his eyes.
There was nothing to feel good about there.
Ward shook his head, snapping himself out of his stupor. He swung the AIE around and aimed for the lumbering giants that were approaching at a surprising speed. Furby had said to aim for their midsections, and that was precisely what he intended to do. He pressed the triggers and the weapon roared as twelve-point-seven millimeter rounds soared across the bridge towards the Hunters.
The Hunter in front stopped in its tracks as the first rounds struck its bulbous chest armor and harmlessly bounced off. It brought its shield arm up and placed it in front of its body, protecting its exposed regions from being hit. Ward watched as rounds ricocheted off the shield harmlessly, and he felt the color leave his face.
The Hunter raised the cannon up and aimed it directly at him. He had a feeling that he should move, but he ignored it. For the moment, anyway.
Instead of continuing to fire on the lead Hunter, which proved fruitless, he turned his gun on the second one. It was advancing forward still, its shield somewhat in front, but he could still see the orange skin every now and then of its exposed midsection. Jon pressed the triggers and ripped into the monster.
His rounds met purchase.
The first dozen rounds tore through the alien's midsection, sending florescent orange blood flying through the air. The beast howled in pain and anger, and it stopped dead in its tracks, throwing its shield up. It wasn't dead, but it was definitely seriously wounded. "Corporal," Ward called to Davis over the din of battle, "hit the second Hunter with your Three-Oh-One! It's wounded!"
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McMillan, J.
Navy
"Born to heal, ready to fight."
Posts: 36
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 23
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: Propitian (Irish)
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The Bridge
Feb 18, 2015 20:08:34 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by McMillan, J. on Feb 18, 2015 20:08:34 GMT -5
Mac winced as he finished the grizzly task of drilling a hole into the skull of the unconscious Private Robin. He grabbed some gauze and pressed it against the hole, trying to limit the blood loss that would certainly pour out of the new cavity. The last thing he needed was her bleeding out after just going through the trouble of trying to keep her alive.
Jim craned his head towards the hill of the bridge when he felt it quake under his knees. Something - some kind of uncanny sixth sense - told him to look that way. So he did. What he saw cresting the hill was by far the scariest thing he had ever seen in all his years alive. Two mammoth aliens, adorned from head to toe in thick, bulbous armor, marched across the hill and down towards the defensive line. Each step they took shook the bridge at its very foundation.
And then suddenly, the sky erupted with molten plasma and crystalline needle shards. The Covenant, having seemingly regained their confidence, were opening up with everything they had. Mac witnessed the bloody end of Lance Corporal Scoggins, and cursed under his breath. He knew from the moment the round impacted his chest that he was a goner, and just as he started to rise to his feet, the shard detonated. Scoggins fell to the ground in a lifeless, bloody heap.
And then he heard it. The call that no one wanted to hear, coming from somewhere behind him. "CORPSMAN!" a discernably feminine voice exclaimed. Jim swiftly packed up his belongings in preparation to respond to the call. "Lieutenant, I need you to keep an eye on Private Robin until dust-off arrives. I've got other people to patch up," he said, slinging his medkit over his shoulder.
When the Lieutenant replied, Jim nodded and took off. His HUD produced a waypoint to the Marine that had called for his assistance, and he moved quickly towards it, darting from cover to cover to avoid becoming a casualty himself. The Covenant were highly intelligent, despite what some might say, and they knew who to look for during a firefight. They knew that if they killed a corpsman, more humans would inevitably perish.
"CORPSMAN UP," he exclaimed when he was close by. McMillan arrived at the waypoint, and spotted Private Lawrence hovering over a bleeding Private Silva. Jim slammed his medkit down and took a knee beside Silva, scrutinizing her carefully. He noticed the wound to her chest and could hear her wheezing with every breath. Blood coated the sides of her lips, and he saw blood pooling underneath her body.
GSW, through and through, sucking chest wound. He rattled off what he saw in his head, and came to the conclusion that Silva was suffering from a punctured lung. If left untreated, she would either bleed out or drown in her own blood. Neither of which was a desirable way to go, even for the toughest Marines.
Mac opened his medkit and pulled out a black cylinder with a nozzle attached to it. He checked the meter on the side to make sure it was full and then removed the cap from the nozzle. "Private Silva, I'm Doc McMillan. You have a punctured lung. What I'm about to do is going to hurt... a lot," he said bluntly. He shook the canister in his hand in front of her so that she could see it. "I'm going to inject you with Biofoam. It'll fill up your lung and seal the wound."
Before he placed the nozzle into the wound on her chest, Mac locked eyes with Lawrence. "I'm going to need your help," he said, unblinking. "I need you to hold her down while I apply the Biofoam. After I'm done, I need you to help me bandage her up. A CASEVAC bird is on the way, and she's gonna need to be on it."
He imagined that that sounded terrible, so he decided to try and belay the Private's concerns. "She isn't going to die, but the corpsmen at the CASH are gonna need to take a look at her. Now, ready?"
When Lawrence gave him her affirmative, he pressed the nozzle into Silva's wound and squeezed the trigger.
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Stringer, K.
Marine Recon Scout
Fire Team Leader
Posts: 155
Character Gender: Male
Character Age: 22
Character Race: Caucasian
Character Nationality: American
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Post by Stringer, K. on Feb 21, 2015 0:29:45 GMT -5
Stringer was starting to run low on the amount of readily available magazines for his BR55. He did have five extras in his pack, but that would take much longer than pulling one from his webbing. He was worried about this because he fired several burst at the covenant as they fell back into cover. He now had only eighteen rounds in his current magazine, with the two in his combat webbing remaining readily available. He already planned on refilling his magazines with ammo after the combat, if not at least swap the empty for the stocked magazines.
That's when he started to hear thundering booms coming from the crest of the bridge. At first, he though it was distant explosions, till he felt the bridge start to shake a bit. He then saw what he suddenly realized was the only thing that could shake a concrete bridge as far as alien bastards go. He saw two hunters cresting over the hill, the two walking tanks making him lose his breathe for a second. That's when he heard Durant start yelling to the company over the coms.
"All callsigns, concentrate your fire on the hunters! I say again, put everything you got on those hunters!" Stringer clicked his PTT as he replied back, then soon after yelling to his fireteam.
"Omen Two-Two-Charlie here, roger! Gray, Silva, Lawrence, light those fuckers up! Hit those fucking hunters with everything!" Stringer didn't even wait for his team to reply, switching the rifle into semi-auto as he was about to fire, but the covenant beat him to the punch. They were now hit with a wave of plasma fire and needle rounds, the covenant starting their advance once again. Stringer saw an elite directing the charge as he began to light the tall fucker up. As the shields begin to shimmer, he suddenly heard the one sound he did not want to hear, and that was the upsetting sound of the gun clicking instead of the satisfying sound of a round going off and the projectile flying down the barrel and towards the elite.
As Stringer ducked down to reload, he began to swap the magazines, placing the new one into the gun and the old one into his combat webbing, behind the only other magazine that had ammo in it. As he was about to rack the charging handle, he was hit with the blast wave of a plasma grenade. He had to drop down a bit as he looked around, suddenly seeing Gray hit her head.
"Louise! You okay? Louise?" Stringer noticed her helmet was on the ground and no longer on her head, as she rolled over a few seconds later, slowly. She was getting back up and started to fire once again. When Stringer saw that, he racked the charging handle and was about to fire over the cover, when he heard Lawrence yell out to him that Silva was hit. He suddenly placed his rifle on the ground behind their cover, as he quickly moved over to the injured marine. Silva was on the ground, couching up blood and spilling it more from the wound from her chest. As Lawrence was over Silva and yelling corpsman, Stringer reached over and tried to cover the wound, trying to reach past the armor into the hole to stop the bleeding. He was about to reach into his pack, when McMillan came running up.
Stringer knew then he was needed to get some firepower back up and hitting the covenant, so he patted McMillan once on the left shoulder and he knew the corpsman was going to take care of his fireteam member. With rage now flowing through his veins for the injuries that the covenant has inflicted, Stringer reached for Silva's machinegun, seeing it was loaded. He huffed once, suddenly aiming up over the cover, placing the bipod on the car. He shouldered the weapon and began to fire burst after burst of rounds at the covenant, his first few hitting some grunts and jackals, as he grunts a bit, before yelling out.
"You god-damn alien sons-of-bitches, you're going to fucking pay! Die motherfuckers, die!" Stringer at this point didn't practice the discipline that a normal gunner would have, firing long wild burst of ammo at the covenant, much more than three, four, or even five rounds, the burst turning basically full-auto as he caught the elite he was firing at earlier out of cover after cutting down a pair of jackals, the elite's shield once again popping. Stringer got a few more rounds off into the alien before the gun suddenly jammed. He pulled back on the charging handle, but it only went back forward half way, signalling to him the weapon was jammed.
He noticed the elite was still moving, it crouching and beginning its trek back into cover. Stringer quickly reached over and grabbed his battle rifle, popping up and firing a few more rounds into the alien's chest. He saw the tall quid-lipped SOB clench at it's chest and fall to it's knees. Stringer saw it look forward and catch his aim, as Stringer placed one more round right into the alien's head. He then saw that one of the hunters was hurt and drop down to protect itself with the massive shield, the other stepping forward and charging it's fuel rod cannon. Stringer turned his gun onto the alien, aiming at the same arm that held the weapon, and began to fire, in an attempt to keep it from having the strength to aim it.
"Gray, hit the one that isn't wounded! Fire for the arm, or any openings, and do it now before he blast everyone here away!"
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