The Bridge

[Flannigan, S.]

Flannigan was quick to assess the situation and put himself and Totino into the mix where they were needed. That was on the firing line. If something didn't happen quickly, and his men execute this correctly, he would perish here with them. The charging whine of the fuel rod gun on the hunters arm sounded like a countdown to Flannigan. He started putting rounds at the armored face, trying to get it to change tactics. The sound of Totino's rifle fell heavily on his ears as the Corporal put down lead at any target he could find. There were plenty, Flannigan was sure. 

The explosion at the feet of the wounded hunter stopped him for a moment as he traced the shot back to its source. Corporal Davis was standing loud and proud, the rifle still to his shoulder and his teammates giving a shout of appreciation and blood lust. Lead poured from the line again, encouraged that one of the hunters had been felled. The bellowing shriek of the other hunter garnered Flannigan's attention and he looked back down the bridge, smiling as he saw the fuel rod gun cooling.

His smile was quickly erased as the hunter started his charge. Flannigan proceeded to start emptying lead at the reckless hunter, praying they had enough lead on the line to pacify the second one. It was always a risk when it came to these behemoths. He could see Totino starting to panic a little at the sight of the now enraged hunter.

"He's not after us Corporal," he shouted, "Just keep up the fire!"

"Roger that sir," the Corporal bellowed back. The fear was still heavy in his voice, but he kept on firing as commanded.

[Faust, M.]

"Fall back!" Faust screamed at the top of her voice, they were unusual words for the Corporal, very rare for Michelle was in favour of charge more than retreat but against this overwhelming amount of fire power, staying in the open or getting closer to the enemy would only result in more certain the defeat. Her fire team was in deep trouble, they had been caught out in the open against an enemy now packing superior fire power. What happened next, would not have surprised anyone. Firing a panicked burst from the hip she back peddled with her marines, they didn't get very far. Faust yelped in agony when a plasma pistol round struck her right calf causing her to stumble and lose her balance. "No keep running!" She ordered her fire team who hesitated seeing her fall. Their hesitation cost them dearly, Baldwin took at least a dozen needle rounds before he exploded in a fountain of crimson gore, Harker was struck by at least four plasma rifle shots. "No!" Faust cried out as he fell down screaming, Faust gritted her teeth and forced herself to her feet, a plasma rifle round striking her in the back of her left shoulder. 

The impact spun her around but she didn't fall, moving as fast as she could, she reached the fallen Harker who was screaming bloody murder. Grabbing his backpack she hauled him with her, aiming to take shelter behind the nearest piece of cover. A plasma grenade landed behind them, the blast bowling Faust over, she seemed fine for she recovered almost instantly adrenaline surging through her veins and resumed dragging Harker into cover. She collapsed behind what remained of a van, pulling Harker in with her. It was there too her immense horror she found that he happened to dead. The plasma grenade had blown off the bottom portion of his legs and a trio of carbine rounds decorated his upper body. 

The strength seemed to fade from her muscles and she lay on the cool concrete, her entire fire team wiped out. It struck at a memory, where during the liberation of New Madagascar she lost her entire squad. She swallowed, her throat dry. Part of her brain screamed at her to move, but her muscles where content to simply sit here and wait for whatever came her way.

Her mind consistently yelled at her to get up, she needed to get up, she had to. If she didn't well the Covenant would kill her. It took a monumental effort to force herself to sit up, her left shoulder screamed at each fresh moment. The Corporal paused to catch her breath, instinctively searched for her assault rifle but it wasn't to be found any place nearby. She could only presume that she must have abandoned the weapon when she got hit. Michelle drew her side arm, she doubted it would be effective if the Covenant came round the van, but at least she might be able to die with a weapon in her hands, or worse come to worse point upwards and pull the trigger. 
It was better to be dead than a prisoner of these alien bastards. 

[Wilkas, G.]

Private Grace Wilkas, RTO and Earth draftee had only ever seen a Hunter once before and even then it wasn't a proper Hunter. It had been back on Earth, a firing range, a large wooden target with the alien Hunter drawn crudely onto it. Somehow it seemed much less threatening back then, now with two of the beasts bearing down on herself and her platoon, Wilkas felt raw terror fill her. She wanted to drop her rifle, abandon her equipment and flee as far and as fast as possible. "Holy shit!" She yelled her voice filled with fear, her eyes wide with panic. "What the hell are those things?" She squeezed off a wild burst in panic the rounds missing by miles. 

She ducked down behind cover, shaking uncontrolably. Her chest felt tight, she struggled to breath in. Oh god, oh god, oh god. Not now, please not now. This would be the worst possible time for anyone to have a panic attack, worse than the first one that her platoon witnessed. Grace battled against the panic attack as best as she could, breathing as calmly and controlled as possible. Eventually, a few minutes later she managed to recover enough to return to the fray. Wilkas popped round from behind her cover and fired a short burst off, not at the Hunters but at a Grunt who she caught out in the open. 
The alien creature fell wounded, but the private moved out of cover to a different position, skidding into cover near Stone. 

"How the hell do we kill these things?" Wilkas yelled to him over the sound of battle, her eyes where wide with terror and it looked like it would take much to convince her to retreat. Training back on Earth hadn't been the best, it had been hard but lacked some knowledge in order to make as many replacements in the shortest amount of time possible. But unfortunately  for Grace, this left her without much knowledge on how to fight and kill a Hunter. Shooting them with an assault rifle on a range in Russia was completely different to shooting the real life things on a battlefield where they had the tendency to shoot back. 

She fired another burst, this time at the Hunters, however the rounds pinged harmlessly off of the armour. She took cover again, turning to hear Stone's answer. The marines were getting torn apart in her opinion, they needed to fall back, but their orders where to hold this bridge. 
If they didn't stop the Hunters soon they would overwhelm the marines and then the Covenant could just stroll across the bridge. 

[Durant, M.]

Murphy's Law. The unfailing, unwritten laws of warfare that sprang up as if on cue at the worst possible times. When Durant was a newly minted officer attending The Basic School after OCS, his instructors had done their best to prepare the future infantry officers for the onset of Murphy's laws. However, no amount of training could fully prepare them - or anyone, for that matter - for every scenario that could go wrong on the battlefield. The appearance of the Hunters was a clear sign that Murphy hadn't forgotten about Second Platoon in his grand scheme to screw up everyone's day. But, arguably, it was not the Hunters that had caused the incredible shitstorm that the defenders of the bridge now faced.

No. The Hunters were merely a contributing factor. Their appearance bolstered the enemy's resolve and reinvigorated their spirit to win no matter the costs. Durant should have seen what happened next coming from miles away. He should have known that all the confidence his Marines had would be swept away upon sight of the lumbering behemoths. There were definite clues, clear as the sun shining through an open window, that he should have seen. Like the sound of Stone's voice when he announced the arrival of the Hunters. Or the frantic looks on the faces of his more experienced combat veterans.

He should have done something about it. Something to keep his Marines focused and to belay their fears of the giant walking tanks that lumbered towards their position. But damn it all if he did. Instead of taking charge, which was practically Officer Leadership 101, he instead succumbed to his own fears and spent the valuable time that he could have been using to keep control of the situation to call in for close air support, the fear very much apparent in his voice. When he was finished with Wilkas's radio, she wandered off, likely deathly afraid and trying with all her might to avoid a panic attack.

And then everything went to hell.

The sound of Corporal Faust's frantic cry to retreat, to abandon the advance, cut across the bridge like a knife through hot butter. It echoed in his ears, and before Michael could grab his push-to-talk and radio her to keep pushing, she and her team were already backpedaling. They were exposed, standing out in the open, when a barrage of plasma and needler fire came raining down upon them. Lance Corporal Baldwin was the first to fall to the barrage, and his death was by no means pretty. Harker went down next. Faust, being the diligent team leader that she was, tried to drag her wounded teammate to cover, only for her to suffer injury herself. A plasma grenade landed, tossed by an overeager Grunt, and it detonated within feet of Harker.

His lower half, beneath his abdomen, flash disintegrated in the blast, leaving Faust carrying only half of a corpse. Thankfully, much to Durant's relief, she managed to make it to cover without enduring further injury. However, the damage done by her retreat was great. Corporal Skip and his team were in cover when the Hunters appeared, and thus did not befall the tragic cards dealt to Second Team; but, with a reinvigorated Covenant only a dozen or so meters away, they could not advance any further without the support of another team. They were pinned down and unable to return fire without fear of suffering casualties.

Fortunately, not all was lost. Corporal Davis, empowered out of ignorance to the threat the Hunters posed, or of immense courage, popped out of cover and launched a forty-millimeter grenade from the M301 Grenade Launcher slung underneath his rifle. The round shrieked through the air and landed a few feet to the left of the wounded Hunter's feet. The Hunter roared in pain as thousands of tiny metal shards pelted its armor and pierced its unarmored midsection. It took a one final step forward before succumbing to its wounds.

The Hunter collapsed to the ground with a resounding thud as the dust and smoke cleared.

Its companion, enraged by the death of its bond-brother, bellowed a mighty war cry and thundered forward. It charged towards the human line without regard to its safety or what lie in its path. A Grunt, whom foolishly stepped out into the path of its charge, was squashed like a pancake by the massive alien's foot as it barreled over it. Durant's eyes widened, his mouth agape with shock.

He snapped out of it a second later and mashed his radio's transmit button in. "All callsigns, fire! Fire! Hit that Hunter with everything you fucking got!"

The Lieutenant released the button and gripped his rifle tighter than he ever had before, swinging it around to bear on the charging Hunter. He jammed the trigger back, the weapon kicking against his shoulder as it spat armor piercing rounds in full automatic. Under normal circumstances he would have taken the time to aim, but there was no time for that.

No time at all.

[Davis, E.]

Davis watched his 40mm grenade arc downrange, knowing he had hit his mark as soon as it left. For a moment, time felt like it slowed for him. The massive alien thing was no match for them. He had just felled one with a single grenade. Ward had helped, but that wasn't the point. Davis cooly ejected the spent 40mm casing with a grin on his face.

"You see that boys," he barked to his team. "Nothing to worry about here. Keep pouring it on these bastards!"

He glanced down and pulled another grenade out to reload, not bothering to take cover. Who could stop him now? He had just killed the best the Covenant could throw at them. The bellow that broke free from the second Hunter snapped his head back up. He noticed the fuel rod gun had started to cool, and for a split second he thought he had damaged it somehow. That thought died quickly as spine erupted from it and it charged forward, intent on one goal, murdering Davis. Davis froze, his eyes spreading wide as Covenant scrambled out of the enraged Hunter's path, some too slowly and trampled for their inattentiveness.

Looking back down he hurriedly tried to load the grenade, unable to keep his attention there as the bridge swayed under the thundering advance of the enraged behemoth. He fumbled the grenade once and it slipped from his hand, hitting the pavement and rolling away. Davis barely noticed as he instinctively reached for another one. Terrified profanity poured from his mouth as he realized he didn't have time for a grenade.

Throwing the rifle into his shoulder he started firing what was left of his magazine wildly at the approaching tank creature. He let out a scream of defiance, knowing it would likely do nothing. He could hear the rounds plinking off the face shield of the creature until he heard the telltale click of an empty rifle. His shoulders slumped as he watched his death coming for him. He didn't move though, simply staring at the creature in shock.

[Stone, T.]

The sudden presence of Private Wilkas was somewhat of a shocker to Sergeant Stone as he fired away at the Hunter pair. He had assumed, probably wrongly so, that she was going to stay up the Lieutenant's ass for the duration of the mission. Apparently a Hunter pair popping up out of a rice bowl changed that for the woman. If it weren't for the dire circumstances of the situation at hand, Stone might have been flattered that she chose to flock to arguably one of the most experienced Marines in the platoon. However, right now, he saw it as another body he had to look after. 

"Very carefully," he said in response to her question. His tone was sharper than he had intended, and as he ducked down to reload, he sighed and decided to dignify her question with a proper answer. "Ya see their unarmored midsections? All that orange shit that kinda looks like a bunch'a worms all bundled t'gether? Aim fer that 'n shoot the shit outta it!"

That out of the way, he reloaded and was about to resume his combat rituals when he happened to glance over to where Second Team had been moments ago. They weren't there. He looked up ahead to see if they had advanced further somehow. Still no joy. He began to scan the battlefield in search of his seemingly missing team. What he saw next managed to both surprise him (a feat in and of itself) and cause his blood to boil. Second Team was retreating. Their panic stricken leader backpedaled, her weapon bucking in fully automatic, her rounds going wild. 

He predicted the outcome before it came to fruition right before his eyes. Thomas had the terrible privilege of owning a front row seat to the end of Second Team. The Covenant, emboldened by the support of the Hunters, had emerged from hiding and begun a courageous push towards the human defensive line. Plasma and needler fire came rushing at the bridge's defenders like a tidal wave. If Faust hadn't let panic overcome logic, she would have ordered her team into cover and held the line with the support of Third Team on her flank. However, having ordered her team to retreat, they were standing out in the open with targets practically painted on their backs. his hand on the

"FAUST! GIT'CHER TEAM INT' CO-" before he could finish his sentence, the beginning of the end had begun. Baldwin fell under a barrage of fire, likely dead before he even hit the ground. Lance Corporal Harker was next in line despite Corporal Faust's best efforts to drag him to safety. For her trouble, she ended up with another dead Marine and a couple injuries herself. Thankfully, she managed to recoil behind a parked van before the Covenant could take her too. "DAMMIT!" Stone exclaimed, his voice laced with rage. He wanted to march across the battlefield and beat each and every one of those split-jawed freaks to death with his helmet and bare fists. 

Two good Marines had died today. 

And it could have been prevented. 

THOOMP! The sound of a M301 going off temporarily distracted the enraged sergeant from wishing to commit vicious, bloody murder on the alien bastards that shared the bridge with him and his Marines. He looked to his left where the sound of the shot had originated and bare witness to Corporal Davis standing over the sandbags that he had chosen for cover, his hand on the trigger to his rifle's underslung grenade launcher. Stone followed Davis's eyes and spotted what the man had been aiming for just as the forty millimeter grenade launched from his launcher landed. The round exploded in front of the closest Hunter, and the beast crashed to the ground in a heap.

Thomas's eyes widened, and he almost cracked one of his signature toothy grins, when it registered in his mind that Davis had just taken down a Hunter with a single shot. But, the bloodcurdling roar of the second Hunter stopped that from happening. Experience told the salty Marine what was coming Davis's way, and it wasn't good. Not good at all. "DAVIS, POP ANOTHER ROUND OFF!" Stone warned the arrogant fool and then squeezed the radio push-to-talk mounted to his chest-plate with white-knuckle strength. "Charlie, when that Hunter passes ya, light it's ass up! Don't stop 'til ya've brought that big fucker down!"


"Roger that!" Corporal Skip replied.

Sergeant Stone turned and locked his cold grey eyes with that of Wilkas's bright, shimmering green. "Wilkas," he said, "Yer comin' with me!" With that, he vaulted over top the sandbags he had used for cover and began sprinting towards the van that Faust was kneeling behind. "SQUAD, COVER ME!" he bellowed while charging forward, enemy fire sizzling dangerously close by. Faust needed his help. He'd assist her in getting back to safety, then deal with poor use in judgment when the fighting was over. She better pray ta Jesus that I don't kill her, he thought angrily.

[Silva, J.]

"Momma! Momma!" She yelled out in pain and perhaps fright, though it would no doubt be an odd sight if her mother strolled through the battlefield towards her injured daughter. The form of the doc, appeared before her, the image blurred from tears. Silva cough heavily, spitting a mouthful of blood out, a few of the crimson droplets splattering onto McMillan's fatigues. "I don't want to die." Silva forced the words out to the Doctor, panicking visibly. 
She screamed when the Medic activated the biofoam injector, it felt like a million tiny needles where filling her lungs. "It hurts... Oh god it hurts." The world seemed to swim in and out of focus before her eyes. 
Silva wanted to be out of pain, just to escape it, she wanted to be home, in her bed, safe from the agony and not covered with her blood. 

She still found the strength to scream, calling for various different family members who probably by considering how loud she yelled could have heard her back on her home planet. Eventually the calls subsided but whether it was because of the effects of biofoam, or the fact that she simply became exhausted by the screaming it would be difficult to say. Fortunately, thanks to the efforts of McMillan and her fire team Silva was no longer in danger of dying due to blood loss, or drowning in her own blood. Yet, never the less the marine was still badly wounded. 
The Janet blinked a few tears from her blue eyes, the liquid almost pure in comparison to the blood that she had coughed up from her lung injury. 

Her mind conjured up the odd memory of when she got hit by a magnum round during the New Paris Uprising, Silva remembered screaming from that wound as well and the pain. However, it was not true pain, nothing like the pain she felt from the lung wound. Even with the numbing effects of the biofoam it still killed, every tortured breath made her wish for and pray to all manner of things to end the agony. 
Despite her mind being foggy from pain, it forced forth memories of her family, friends and loved ones. The images lit a spark within her, she didn't want the pain to stop, she wanted to live. 

OOC: Sorry it is short but I sort of ran out of things to write. 

[Wilkas, G.]

Wilkas nodded hastily to Stone's response, she nodded so quickly her helmet slid forward. The private trembling fearfully had to push it back into position, she could adjust the helmet straps assuming she or indeed any of them survived this fight. She popped out from cover to open fire, only to witness the terrible horror of Second Team being cut down by the Covenant being butchered as they fell back. Faust was retreating! Faust! Perhaps the second scariest marine next to Stone. Stone who Wilkas thought to be the most scariest person in the outfit and thus, the person most suited to give marine advice and keep her in the fight. A plasma pistol round whistled uncomfortably past, barely missing her. This forced her to wisely seek cover. 

Trembling, she heard the explosion and the roar of what she prayed belonged to a dying hunter. Her mind considering running away, but before her brain could decide whether the fleeing action was a good idea Stone's face complete with those cold grey eyes appeared before her shimmering green. He ordered her to follow him. Grace did not possess much option to object or even respond before he vaulted over the sandbags. Grace let out the shout of "Oorah!" As she followed Stone, narrowly avoiding losing her head to a jackal armed with a plasma pistol. 
She ducked avoiding a few more carbine rounds, her boots slipping on what she prayed was melting slush and not a human body part. The result of this however caused the RTO to fall over. With plasma rounds impacting nearby the RTO scrambled into the nearest available cover, this happened to be a fallen soldier. Thanks to Wilkas being quite small, she could take cover behind him better than most marines could have. 

With Stone's shout of covering fire, the Covenant fire moved away from her as their focus shifted. Wilkas leapt to her feet, aiming to catch up with Stone. Enemy fire hissed passed dangerously close. If she lived through this barrage of fire it would be a miracle. 
She knew that she had no choice in the matter, she simply could not abandon one of her fellow marines. Grace was not a coward or a deserter. Grace fired off a short burst wildly at the Covenant. She didn't not know this but her rounds missed the enemy by miles, though if she had been aiming to kill the air then she hit them right in the head. 

Wilkas' was struck by a plasma pistol round in her left shoulder, she slid into cover behind half an over turned wreck of a car. She tore off the shoulder piece before the uncomfortable heat succeeded in burning through her fatigues and then roasting her flesh. She sucked in a few deep breaths, attempting to calm herself before once more charging after Stone, she elected not to fire  this time and prayed that she might be fast enough to catch up with him. 
Whilst also praying that she didn't suddenly be reduce to ash by an alien weapon. 

[Furby, J.]

Jayson sighed as a stream of plasma fire soared overhead. While the Covenant held the advantage, he couldn't risk emerging from cover to put them down, lest he wished to add his name to the growing list of the platoon's casualties. Had the Hunters not arrived, Furby had no doubt that the firefight would have ended by now. They had gained fire superiority, possessed excellent fields of fire, and had been advancing on the Covenant's position. But of course, nothing could be so cut and dry.

"Red!" Avery yelled from beside Furby. Jayson reached over to his rucksack set beside him and tore another belt out of it. He handed the belt to Avery and closed the flap on the top of his rucksack. The Lance Corporal quickly reloaded his GPMG and resumed his suppressive fire. "Shit is on, bro!"

"Yeah," Furby replied, shaking his head, "you sound a little too happy about that."

Avery laughed. "What can I say, man? We're in a target-rich environment. What's not to love?"

The PFC was just about to respond to that statement with his typical sarcastic pessimism when he heard the report of a grenade launcher. Jayson craned his head over to where Corporal Davis had taken cover and noticed he was standing behind the sandbags in front of him, the barrel of the grenade launcher slung underneath his MA5 still smoking from the shot. An explosion echoed across the bridge from somewhere downrange. Furby's eyes widened when he spotted Davis's target - one of the Hunters - lying still on the ground, dust and soot clearing around its broad corpse.

"Holy shit," he mumbled under his breath in shock. That took some serious balls. The fact that the Corporal seemed ignorant to the danger he'd put himself in by even attempting to do what he just did astonished him. "You see that boys?" Davis asked, a huge grin on his face. "Nothing to worry about here..."

Jayson didn't hear the rest of Corporal Davis's sentence. He was too distracted by the bloodcurdling roar emitted from the other Hunter to even care to listen to what else his team leader had to say. The Hunter, which had mostly held its ground since it had arrived with its brother, was now making its way towards the defensive line. It picked up speed and gained ground with startling quickness. The Hunter's trajectory put him on a direct course for Corporal Davis as it charged across the bridge with reckless abandon.

The alien displayed a total disregard for the obstacles in front of it. Furby watched the towering monstrosity crush a Grunt under its boot, making no attempt to slow down or alter its course. The Hunter used its massive shield to sweep an abandoned vehicle aside, sending it spinning end over end over the side of the bridge, and continued its mad dash towards Davis. Jay slapped Avery's shoulder as hard as he could to get his attention. "Corporal's in trouble! Light that Hunter the fuck up!"

Avery glanced back at Jayson briefly before returning his gaze downrange. "The fuck you think I'm doin'?!"

Furby nodded and stood up. He peered through the ACOG scope mounted to the top of his BR's carrying handle and let loose, emptying the magazine into the Hunter's exposed midsection. Orange blood exploded from the holes punched into the alien, but it did little to slow the fucker down. Yep, he thought, Corporal's fucked...

[Gray, L.]

Gray continued to listened to the radio chatter. Her head was really pounding and the wound was still bleeding. It was taking a huge effort for the young marine just to stay on her feet, never mind firing her weapon. By this point in the battle, Gray was shaking badly from the effort and was still suffering from bouts of vomiting and increasing dizziness. Her vision still kept going blurry too, but somehow in between all these bouts, she still kept on firing, though she was noticeably slower in her actions and in her response to commands. When the fist Hunter was wounded, it's companion let out a fearsome roar, which caused Gray to flinch as the sound of the roar threatened to make her head explode with pain.

Suddenly Stringer yelled at her to fire at the uninjured hunter and Gray turned her head to look at him, processing what he had said through her befuddled mind. Once it had registered what he had said, Gray nodded at him and moved to aim and fire. Position herself carefully, Gray was about to fire when an explosion shook the ground. Once all the dust had cleared from the direction of the explosion, Gray could see that one of the hunters had been killed. However the other one was enraged by the death of it's fellow hunter and suddenly began to charge towards the line of defence.

Through her headset, Gray heard Durant yell for everyone to turn their weapons on the remaining hunter and fire. Moving her weapon slightly, Gray let rip with a hail of bullets, which bounced off the armour, leaving the alien unharmed. Shifting again, she paused and dropped down to reload her weapon. Once fully reloaded, she slowly stood back up and fired, aiming for the midsection. The alien already was wounded in it's mid section and this time Gray's bullets found their targets, causing even more bright orange blood to spill to the ground. However it would now be clear to those surrounding her, that the young marine was injured, struggling and would not able to hold out from collapsing from her concussion and head injury for much longer.

Meanwhile Lawrence was also being kept busy, helping Macmillan to treat Silva. She listened carefully to his instructions and then proceed to pin Silva down while he worked on sealing her wound. Listening to Silva call out various names was horrific for Lawrence, as it made her recall horrifying memories from her previous encounter with the covenant, back on New Madagascar. Like Gray, she had seen many things during that battle and had also lost a family member, Shaking her head slightly to try and rid the memories, Lawrence continued to hold Silva down whilst the doc worked. As soon he would finish up with Silva and get her off for further treatment, Lawrence would return to back up Gray and Stringer.

[Ward, J.]

Relief poured over Ward when the smoke cleared from Corporal Davis's forty millimeter grenade round. The sight of one of the Hunters lying motionless on the ground, orange blood pooling beneath it, stifled some of the fear he'd felt moments ago. Knowing the twelve foot tall monsters were killable provided him a major boost to his confidence in their chances for survival.

However, all that went out the window when the remaining Hunter released a terrible roar that echoed across the bridge. Ward had never heard a sound so terrifying before in his life, and it took all the courage he could muster to keep him from abandoning his post. The Hunter stormed through the fog of smoke kicked up by the grenade. He reacted purely out of muscle memory, thumbing the triggers.

The AIE came to life, spitting armor piercing bullets at the rampaging behemoth. Like before, the majority of the rounds merely ricocheted harmlessly off its solid body of armor. Jon corrected this by tilting the triple barrels towards the alien's midsection, and immediately the blood started flying. But, despite being pelted by twelve-point-seven millimeter rounds, the alien neither slowed down or altered its course. It was headed directly towards Corporal Davis.

Ward prayed that it would never reach him.

[Durant, M.]

"Omen Two, this is Kilo Five-Five, CAS inbound on your six. Danger close."

Lieutenant Durant looked back when the transmission finished. Three Falcon helicopters sped towards the bridge, the sound of their powerful engines barely audible over the ruckus of battle. Mike smiled, the first real smile he'd had since his platoon landed groundside, and returned his gaze to the events that transpired in front of him. "CAS inbound! Heads up!" Durant exclaimed on the platoon net.

A moment later, the chin-mounted seventy millimeter cannons aboard the Falcons loosed controlled bursts as they entered firing range, the rounds landing around the charging Hunter. The first trio of bursts missed by inches, shooting concrete chips into the air that pelted the beast's armor plating. It roared defiantly as it slogged forward still, its course unchanged. The Hunter was committed to avenging its fallen brother.

The next burst hit home. Three seventy millimeter shells pounded the Hunter's armor, slowing its charge considerably. It groaned in pain, yet still refused to relent. Two more bursts, however, stopped the Hunter in its tracks. The rounds punched clean through its armored chest and exposed midsection.

Gore exploded from the wounds, coating the Covenant troops behind it in its blood. The last salvo fired from the Falcons struck its dome, its head popping like a water balloon. It fell on a car in front of it, crushing it like a soda can.

"This is Shadowcat Zero-One, inbound to commence CASEVAC. Over," the voice of the Pelican's co-pilot droned in Durant's ears. The Pelican stopped to hover over the CCP that the Army platoon had erected for a few seconds before touching down. Mike mashed the talk key in and barked "I need a few Marines to help load our wounded and dead onto the dust-off bird!" into the boom microphone built into his helmet.

The three Falcons passed overhead. Durant guessed they were about to do a fly-by of the center of the bridge. His guess was proven correct, and machine gun fire rained down on the Covenant troops that remained from the side-mounted M247T MMGs. Blood of all hues sprayed like a heavy mist as the aliens were torn to bloody shreds. Several Grunts broke ranks and attempted to flee, only to be gunned down from behind.

And then... silence. The gunfire ceased as the last of the Covenant fell dead. Durant looked back and forth, searching for any targets that the birds overhead might have missed. The quiet, while welcomed, was disconcerting. There was still the howl of the Pelican's engines behind him, and the thundering roar of the Falcons hovering over the bridge, but as far as the Lieutenant was concerned, it was quiet.

Michael was about to start dishing out orders when the alarmed voice of Corporal Rio carried across the bridge. "Mason's hit!"

The Lieutenant's body moved without coercion from his brain, and before Durant knew it, he was kneeling over a wounded Staff Sergeant Mason. Steam wafted off Mason's vest, and the putrid odor of burnt flesh assaulted Durant's nostrils. The Staff Sergeant had been shot in the gut. He could tell from the damage inflicted and the look of the wound that it was plasma that dropped him.

Staff Sergeant Mason groaned in pain through gritted teeth. His breathing was fast, erratic, and Mike knew that could mean he was going into shock from the wound. "Rio, get Mason on the bird."

"Aye, sir."

Durant nodded and locked eyes with Rio. "You're in charge of Second Squad."

Corporal Rio stared back at the Lieutenant without uttering a word. After a long moment of silence, he said, "Yes, sir."

With that, Rio hefted his squad leader over his shoulder and ran off to drop him off at the dustoff Pelican. Durant turned and regarded the battlefield, scrutinizing the damage that had been done. The defenses that the Army had tossed together were mostly still intact, which brought Michael some relief. He had to admit that he was impressed that the soldiers had lasted this long without reinforcements. It was definitely a testament to their combat abilities that they survived considering the odds that were stacked against them.

Quickly formulating a plan, Lieutenant Durant sprang to action. "Second Platoon, time to dig in! Set up your positions, service your weapons, count ammo, and prepare to be here for awhile."

Durant spotted Sergeant Stone and Private Wilkas with Corporal Faust. He looked around for Lance Corporal Upshaw, and found him near First Team. "Upshaw," he called, "on me!"

When Upshaw fell in on him, Durant led him over to First's Squad Leader. First Squad so far had suffered the greatest number of casualties, with two dead and two wounded, and so Durant figured Upshaw would be of most use to them. He knew nothing about the Marine other than that he was from November Company and that Captain Flannigan personally vouched for him. Michael trusted Flannigan's judgment.

After all, the man hadn't yet given him reason not to.

"Sergeant," Durant greeted the veteran NCO, "this is Lance Corporal Upshaw. As I understand it, he's a transplant from November Company. Captain Flannigan brought him to me, and I'm giving him to you. I'm sure you can find a place for him."

He turned to walk away, and stopped, glancing back over his shoulder. "Also, I need some Marines to run dead checks. I want to be sure those Covenant out there are actually dead. Your squad's up."

[Stone, T.]

The end to the firefight happened abruptly. Army helicopters arrived just in the knick of time and dropped the Hunter that was dead set on tearing one of his own to pieces. Stone sighed in relief and pressed his back against the side of the abandoned van for support. Sweat trickled down his cheek from his forehead.

As the Falcons mopped up the remnants of the Covenant assault, Thomas looked down at Corporal Faust. Just the sight of her summoned his anger. He wanted to tear her a new asshole for her poor decision-making that resulted in the deaths of her two remaining team members. However, he noticed she was injured, and her welfare took precedence over his feelings. "Ya okay, Faust?" he asked her, his concern legitimate.

After she responded, he turned his steely gaze to Private Wilkas. "Ya should git back ta the El-Tee, boot," he said. He saw the look on her face. Despite her best attempts, the fear she had experienced shone through the facade. "Relax. The Covies are dead. Yer alive 'n ya didn't freak the fuck out. Ya've done good so far."

Just then, Lieutenant Durant approached the trio. "Sir?" he said, pushing off of the side of the van to stand straight. He saw, out of the corner of his vision, a Marine that he did not recognize beside Durant. The Lieutenant explained that he was a Marine from November Company and that Flannigan had placed him with Second Platoon. "Roger that, sir," he said, passing a glance to Upshaw.

Stone thought that the Lieutenant was about to walk away, and so he was just about to formally introduce himself to the Lance Corporal, when Durant turned back around. He ordered him to assign Marines to conduct a dead check of the presumably expired Covenant soldiers. Thom nodded and looked to Upshaw.

"I am Sarn't Stone," the Sergeant began, "welcome ta First Squad, No-Co. I dunno what the hell ya did ta catch the Skipper's eye 'n quite frankly I don't care. This ain't a popularity contest 'n I ain't no proud parent. I expect ya ta follow all orders like God gave 'em ta ya personally 'n ta fight like I'll beat ya senseless if ya don't... 'n I will 'fore I throw ya off this bridge by yer pinky toe. Understood, No-Co?"

He paid no attention to the Lance Corporal's response as he turned to Corporal Faust. "Meet yer new blood. Corp'ral Faust, No-Co. No-Co, Corp'ral Faust. Yer on dead check, Corp'ral." Stone turned and started towards Corporal Davis. As he marched off, he yelled back to Faust over his shoulder, "Oh, 'n try not ta git him killed!"

The Sergeant stopped before Corporal Davis and scrutinized him for a moment. He looked to be somewhat in shock, his eyes glued to the Hunter that moments ago had been gunning for him, and each breath he drew was heavy. Thomas grinned, displaying his white-yellow teeth.

Stone dipped his hand into a pouch affixed to the side of his vest. He pulled out a pack of cigarrettes and his silver zippo emblazoned with the Marine Corps logo. Opening the pack, he retrieved a cigarette that he stuck between his lips and then gestured towards his pack. "Want one?" he inquired, and afterwards he lit his cig and stowed the pack.

"I want ya 'n Ward on dead check duty after ya git'cher position squared away," he ordered. "Av 'n Furby can cover ya from here. We're diggin' in fer awhile."

[Davis, E.]

The world has slowed down. There was no moment of his life flashing before his eyes, but the sounds of gunfire and the sounds of the bridge in general faded away. This was what the end of his life looked like. A mountain of an alien he had pissed off was about to grind him into a grease stain and there was nothing that could be done. He would has smirked at the irony, having pissed off many people in his life. The sparks of bullets striking the armor became clearly burned into his memory. 

Then his quiet world was shattered by the roar auto-cannons, and he watched the Hunter cut down less than ten yards from him. A wave of relief washed over him as he released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He sat down, completely stunned, wondering how he could possibly still be alive. The battle was over in the next few moments, the Army birds clearing a swath across the bridge. Davis rubbed his eyes, still stunned, looking at the damage on the bridge. His team was a distant thought as he sat there, simply stunned with being alive, his empty weapon hanging from his combat hook from his shoulder.

It took Sergeant Stone walking up to him to shake him out of his stupor. The offer of a smoke was accepted. Davis didn't smoke, as a rule, but it felt like the thing to do. He reached out to take one, finding his hand was shaking uncontrollably. It wasn't something he couldn't work around, but it was obvious and told him just how bad it had truly been. He forced his shaky hand towards his mouth and cut his lip with the rough edge of the cigarette. Thankfully he didn't drop it, but he wasn't sure he dared light it.

"Avery, Furby, find a place to call home and start on range cards," he called over the team band. His voice had a quaver to it that he hadn't expected. "Fox, make sure you have a proper range card for your new home. The Army boys should have one there. If not, build it from scratch. I'll be over with new orders in a few mikes."

Taking a light from Stone, Davis took a long, soothing drag from the bummed smoke. Blowing the smoke back out in a similar fashion, he finally started to calm down.

"Thanks," he muttered, taking a true look around, trying to gauge the situation on the bridge with a clear head. It wasn't quite there, but it was a start.

[Faust, M.]

The sound of battle gradually faded then ceased all together though the victory brought precious little comfort to Corporal Faust. Her wounds weren't mortal, or at least she hoped that they weren't, even if staying alive resulted in her facing a grilling from various members of the platoon holding higher ranks than she did... Perhaps even had. "No Sarge." Came the reply, her face tight with pain, her voice laced with agony and bitterness. "No I am not." What was it? Shame? A sense of failure? That her leadership got most of her fire team wiped out? 
Faust hadn't screwed up this bad since New Madagascar. But there was nothing she could do but try to live with the decision, that is if she survived long enough to actually live with it. 

At least she made a call rather than doing nothing, charging forward would have been just as foolish as falling back, taking cover might have still resulted in the same number of casualties. No one could say for certain yet she knew in her heart that they would disagree with her choice in action. Besides, the Faust they all knew never retreated or fall back in the face of enemy. 
Yeah, Hunters happen to change even the most stubborn marines. Faust didn't have the strength to ask if Robin made it. Currently she believed that the other marine was dead. How many had fallen under her orders? She was glad that she never became an officer like her father wanted. If she messed up this bad with a fire team, imagine how badly she would fail with a whole platoon under her command?

Probably not as bad as Lt Jonathan, now there was an woeful officer who not only happened to be incompetent but also a complete stuck up idiot with no concept of strategy outside of a text book. Could he have become better? Maybe, whose to say, however New Madagascar saw that he would never lead again.
It became kinda difficult to issue commands when you were dead. 

Faust slouched against the side of the van, either unable or unwilling to get to her own feet. She holstered her magnum, took a deep breath before gripping the railing of the bridge with her arms. She forced herself to her feet, no more feeling sorry for herself. She screwed up, yes there was to be no denying that but sitting there feeling sorry for herself would not change anything. Faust was a Faust and they never quit. 
It was agony getting back up, she felt certain that her face would be showing it clearly yet it did not matter. She might have been knocked down however she owed to those that had followed her to their deaths to get back into the fight, otherwise their sacrifice would be meaningless.
Faust ignored Stone's last words, she would have to bear it with gritted teeth. "Yes Sargent." The Corporal answered with some pain. "I shall not get him killed."