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Assault on Lyon, Prologe.
Date: 24 February 2005, 4:59 PM

The Unmanned Combat Air Vehicle skimmed over the river.
       "Fence in," the pilot reported as they entered hostile airspace. The Navy ensign controlling it from the carrier Germany disabled the autopilot.
The mission was simple, asses the Covenant defensive capabilities on the city of Lyon and attack a building in order to evaluate the reaction by the Covenant. Satellite recon was out of the question, the Covenant had shoot down everyone the UNSC had stationed over the planet, a large plasma ball launched from a mobile gun, this time the UNSC took another step, and deployed a highly stealth drone.
       "There it is," said the Lieutenant Commander in charge of the mission, the massive city was visible in the screen, massive skyscrapers on downtown, the large Lyon river crossed the right side of the city, near downtown, several bridges crossed it, it was a beautiful sight.

       Not for long.

       "Right," the Commander took a deep breath, "activates the FLIRS."
       The Forward Looking Infrared Systems began scanning the outskirts of the city.
       "Clear," said the ensign.
       "Uh-uh," reported the Commander shortly after, there was something odd, a large return of heat from what looked like a ridge, and everyone in the room noticed it.
       "Zoom on that," said the Commander as he moved closer to the screen, placing his hand on the chair of the ensign chair.
       The ensign pressed a button on the digital screen, and then rolled a knob forward, the digital magnification on the camera showed something none of them ever imagined.
       "Dear god," said the Ensign as he uploaded the image, the image was so clear and vivid that someone threw up behind the ensign as they watched the images closer, the ensign struggled to avoid it, and succeeded barely.
       "Assessment."
       "ONI warned us about this, common grave," said the Lieutenant Commander, right next to him a Captain nodded, he was the ONI attaché for the mission.
       "I would guess just over five thousand," said coldly, the Commander.
       "Deeper into the city, turn right, head to downtown," ordered the CO.
       "Roger," the aircraft swung right.
       "Sir, the drop ships are over downtown," warned the pilot.
       "I know," he said with a sarcastic tone, "let's do a countdown," ordered the Commander.
       The fleet had learned something, Covenant spotting equipment was in a way, equivalent to the humans.
       Something again caught the attention of the pilot as the stealth drone approached downtown, flashes.

       Warning, Electronic transmission detected. The digital voice reported as the drone Electronic Warning Receiver detected something.

       "Covenant chatter on their comm. ignore," said the Commander.
       "Sir, its something else," said the electronic officer right next to the ensign, "I have FM transmissions on the ground!"
       "On speaker," said the Commander calmly, every one in the room listened carefully to the speaker phone.

       "...Pierre I need and RPG to take out the tank!" said one voice.
       "Yes I know! But I'm busy they are attacking the church!" said apparently the Pierre fellow.
       "I can't move until the tank is taken out!"

       "Oh my god, they are ours," said the commander, excited chatter was barely audible in the room.
       "I think we can do them that favor, can't we?" said the Commander uncharacteristically exited.
       "Roger, we are going to take that Wraith out," said the Ensign as he grinned, "we are going in hot". This, in a way, was great news, there were civilians alive, and they were fighting for their lives, and for what it seemed they were fighting hard.

       He didn't knew if it was the hissing sound of the wind or the sound of rifles going of that helped him to find out where he was, there was unbearable heat was the other factor that bothered him in his sleep. What really awaked the freedom fighter was a hand that slapped him, he then remembered, he was not asleep, he was not hearing wind, he was stunned and passed out.
       "Pierre is that you?" asked a very familiar voice.
       "Yes Francois, what happened?" asked the former Police officer.
       "A tank destroyed the church," said comrade, Francois.
       "How are the rest of the men?" asked Pierre as he looked around, a large hole was on the roof of the holy structure, his comrades lay cooked on the rubble of bricks and rocks, he was in the control room, he was saved only by the door that separated the command post, a former priest office, and the main building.
       "Cooked, we have to get out of here, the aliens are coming!" said the battle wearied men in front of him, his face was covered with blood and dust, it showed no expression, his outfit was a combination of police and civilian clothes. He was the leader of the remaining humans in the city, or at least whom they knew were alive. He helped Pierre up, the former priest office was partially destroyed, the two men hurried out the room, entering the main hall of the destroyed church. There were three men shooting from the windows to the incoming aliens.
       "Oh my god Pierre you are alive!" said the voice of an old friend, Francis who fired her .22 semi-automatic rifle at the two hundred Grunts who charged over the rubble of once a great avenue of the city, the massive buildings that the road ran through had collapsed or where on their way to do it, the street thence was filled with bricks, tubes, rocks, glass and of course trash, and lots of it.
       "We need to retreat, this ground is lost my dear friends," said Francois as he placed a large home made bomb under the rubble at his feet.
       "Yes friend lets go," said Pierre as grabbed the rifle from the hands of the carcass of a dead fighter, the commercial version of the MA5B.
       The five men exited the church by the altar, behind the confessionary and then onto a beautiful clean garden, that had not felt the impact of war on it.

       It would not last for long.

       They walked through a road made out of rocks through the garden, Pierre enjoyed the sight of the garden, the most beautiful thing he had seen since the invasion, in witch his entire family died. Then they heard a familiar sound, plasma fire from an alien tank coming from the rear of the church, they had to avoid it, Pierre pushed Francois, forcing him to run right, and then pushed him, again forcing him to jump forward, just in time.

       The large ball of plasma struck in the center of the garden.

       Again the feeling of that had come just a while ago came, he was lost, Pierre was passed out and shocked by the explosion. The resounding sound of the detonation roared in his ears, it was unbearable. He had to react faster, he slowly opened his eyes, scanned around, the Covenant had destroyed another thing he found beautiful, the garden. Still dizzy and shocked, he looked for his friend Francois, who he found next to him unconscious, yet the other fighters were ok, and were walking to aid them.

       Even with the confusing sound of the explosion, he did make out a sound, the Covenant tank that had fired on them before had broken through the wall of the Church. The massive vehicle swung around, firing its plasma beams to the other fighters who tried to escape. They didn't succeeded, they were cut by the high velocity beams, after they dropped, the vehicle kept firing, securing the kills, angering Pierre more. After that the vehicle scanned the surroundings, rotating over the ground still halfway inside the church. Behind it Grunts cloud be heard by their distinctive voices. The Covenant had breached the lines, and were going to exploit it, fast. There was still one thing that Pierre and Francois cloud use, the explosive charge buried under the rubble of the church. It would not be enough to destroy the tank; though it would be enough to kill the Covenant behind the tank. Pierre grabbed a rock in the garden right next to his head, he used it as a leverage to crawl to Francois, once there he rolled Francois on the ground until they were head on and then searched the pockets in his police issue jacket.

       "Ja-Ja-Ja," laughed what was undoubtedly and Elite.

       Pierre turned his head around, a scarlet Elite stood on top of the tank, its energy sword unleashed, staring at the helpless humans. Pierre yet knew there was only one thing he could do, he turned, He knew he had no chance against the Elite. He had only one more job to do, his final effort for the war, and revenge, to detonate the explosive charge buried under the church, he turned around, and rechecked the pockets, he found the radio transmitter in the chest pocket, he had little time, as he felt the footsteps as the Elite approached.

       He turned around to face the beast, its jaws opened like a flower, and I thought I had an ugly smile, thought Pierre as he smiled back, he showed the detonator to the Elite, the four jaws contracted, and it knew exactly what the device the human showed.

       Clack.

       Oh no, though Pierre, there was a malfunction in the detonator. The Elite smiled again, it rose it's sword over his head, he was going to kill Pierre.

       The Elite however stopped, its very sensitive ear listened something.

       He heard the hissing sound of a Small Diameter Bomb dropping from the sky-

"That's a kill!" called the Ensign manning the controls of the drone.
       The commander watched the screen the smoking wreckage of the tank.
       "Boom! Watch the secondary!" the building in witch the tank hid had detonated completely, a secondary explosion not expected by any in the room, too heavy for an SDB.
       "Flash transmission," called a Spaceman Apprentice in the back room.
       "Read it," said the Lieutenant Commander.
       "We are to remain on station sir, the Jarheads are moving in."

       The evening sunlight reflected of the rocks, passing through the buildings landing on the park that was now a dump of bricks and trash. It was once a forest inside the city, now it was burned, shelled, corrupted by war. The fourteen year old ran through the rubble inhaling an exhaling deeply, irregardless that it gave his position, the plasma fire that trained on the retreating men was taking its toll; only five fighters remained out of the original forty one, and the huge slope they were moving up slowed him. The boy who's stamina ran out stopped and took cover behind a rock on a slope in the park, his breathing audible, perhaps, to the chickens, the street name of the resistance to the Jackals, the snipers who had become a nightmare to the untrained and most importantly unaware humans that had taken up arms against the Alien onslaught.
       Why dam it, thought Fabian, he had done everything he cloud to survive this far, this was not fair. Francois had ordered them to hold a building at all costs, the building was a perfect observation post for the covenant advance on the area, they cloud see the direct highway that led into the aliens landing zone, where twenty immense drop ships hovered by the skyscrapers. They reported to their leaders through a phone wire, untraceable for any electronically spotting devices, but the aliens, somehow, had traced it. During the night Special Operation Grunts infiltrated the building, killed everyone inside except he and other eleven lucky ones.
       The temperature around him suddenly arose, Fabian knew what it was with out seeing it, a large ball of plasma, characteristic of an overcharged plasma pistol passed over his head, hitting apparently a rock just twenty meters up the slope.

       "Aaaaaa!", the familiar smell of burning flesh filled the surroundings after the scream.

       Oh no, another dead, thought Fabian. He looked over the rock he was covering, he scanned the surroundings, he cloud see the tiny forms of Grunts making their way through the rubble to the general direction of the humans, he had to get out.

       Pssst

       Fabian looked around, a fighter, whom he had only seen once crawled to the position where the plasma bolt hit before. He waved him to move to his position. Fabian took another look behind; the Grunts were still far away. He then crawled up the slope, reaching the rock where the soldier was, there the burning corpse of another fighter lay.
       "Hallo boy, this is really bad, don't you think?" asked the older men, who looked like sixty years of age, yet still showing youth in spirit.
       "Yes sir," said Fabian with a trembling voice, at that point Fabian realized something, he was unarmed.
       "I'm not armed," he took a deep breath, "we need to leave this place," said Fabian with a tone similar to the crying one.
       "Oh no boy, I have a better idea, this reminds me of an incident in my previous days with the Marines, don't worry," said the older men.

       The two fighters hid under the rocks, watching the column of aliens march up. It had been a good idea by the old men, to hide under the rocks instead of running, they had heard through the night how their friends were hunted down by the Covenant, other than that they knew one thing, a major battle was taking place through the city for the past two hours.
       "Fabian, it is time to go," said the elder with a gentle, comforting voice.
       "Why? Its safe here," said Fabian.
       "That is exactly why, our friends are fighting, and we are hiding," said the older men.
       "Oh," said Fabian shamefully, "where do we go?"
       "The church area, there was a good fight there last I hear, lets hope we make it in time."

       "Don't move Fabi, we are there," said the elderly man, who aimed his old bolt action rifle at something through the broken window, they had taken a shortcut through the sewers and then into the basement of the building, they walked through a stair to the house, that was devastated, there was not a single unbroken item in the living room the rectangular shaped room was filled with bullet holes, two sofas and one chair were at the center, facing a TV console.
       "Do you see anything?" asked Fabian.
       "No... wait..." said the Elder man as he ducked.
       "Two people, one seems injured... one is carrying the other," informed the older men as he moved inside the living room.
       Fabian moved behind the elder, he watched how ruined was the city, the two men walked over a pile of bricks, exiting a destroyed building.

Pierre helped Francois move, his leg had been needled, a deep wound punctured his right thigh and the battle had been lost and the church area had been lost, they were, simply stated, screwed. The ironic way they survive was both lucky and grouse, the burning carcass of the scarlet Elite that tried to kill them covered them from the rubble that landed everywhere after the massive explosion.
       "I can't move," said Francois.
       "We need to keep going my friend," Pierre knew they had to rest, but not here.
       "I'm serious, I'm sitting down," said Francois in a decisive tone.
       "Ok, let me help you," said Pierre as he assisted his friend to sit on a large brick.
       "Thanks, Pierre."
       "You are welcome," Pierre took a deep breath, and collapsed on the bricks, "I'm tired also," said Pierre as he sat next to Francois, taking a deep breath. They were very lucky, in a way, to be alive, by know everyone in the church area was dead, their families long gone, their past know buried in rubble and dead.
       We may not be lucky after all, thought Pierre.
       "Where the hell are we?" Pierre as he lay down.
       "It seems 6th Avenue, I can't tell, they city has changed so much," said Francois.
       "Oh yes my friend," Pierre stretched his leg, then lay down again, he looked at the sky, it was only beautiful thing in view, his eyelids slowly began to get heavier, he closed his eyes, he couldn't even fight it, he fell a sleep.

       "Wake up."
       Two rifles aimed at the teenager, the two battle wearied men reacted swiftly, ready kill the youngster.
       "It's me! It's me!" said Fabian as he backed away from the two men.
       "We almost killed you," said Francois.
       "I could have killed you, you were sleeping in the open... we are at that house," Fabian signaled to the less damaged house in the opposite side of the street.
       "Fine," said Pierre as he helped Francois up.

       Pierre and Francois sat on the sofa; they relaxed every muscle in their bodies. Francois leg rested on a puff, the elder men checked the large wound in his leg, pouring one of the oldest disinfecting remedies in history, rum.
       "It burns, ah?" asked the elder men.
       Francois nodded, saying nothing, bighting his own lips avoiding screaming from the tremendous pain on his thigh.
       "Have a sip," said the elder men as he threw the bottle to Francois chest. The man grabbed the bottle that slid in his chest; he then drank the content to the bottom.
       "Now I'm happy," said Francois.

       "I see something," said Fabian as he aimed Francois MA5B rifle out the window, scanning the rubble outside the building. Two buildings front side had previously collapsed on the street, something had moved speedily over it. The movement and shape was characteristic of the chickens.
       "What?" asked the elder men as he and Pierre ran low through the living room to the window.
       "Chicken I think, by the rubble at the end of the street," said Fabian.
       "How many?" asked Pierre as he checked the chamber of the rifle. It was fully loaded.
       "I think one... or that is what I saw, I don't know," said doubtfully Fabian.
       "Ok," said the elder men, "we need to be sure." The three of them knew exactly what was to be asked after.

       Volunteers.

       The elder men, with no doubts, nodded. Both Pierre and Fabian respectfully bowed their heads in apretiation.
       The elder men grabbed his old, yet reliable, bolt action sniper and hunting rifle. "If you hear shooting, take Francois to the basement," said the elder men, "don't fight unless you have too."
       "Ok," said Pierre, "I will give you my rifle, it is better than yours sir."
       "Not to worry, the rifle does not make the Indian." That comment made Pierre felt uncomfortable, he had shown his lack of experience in war.

       The old men crawled up the street, over the rubble of the parallel building where his friends did, this building was completely collapsed, both floors only rubble now. He moved carefully, scanning the surroundings every ten meters.

       There.

       In the buildings at the end of the street, two Jackals, with their sniper rifles, lay prone, aiming down street. The weird thing was that there were only two of them, alone. Not characteristic with the battle tactics the Covenant used. Easy targets.

The hissing wind through the cabin was pleasant, the situation was not, the assault Pelican skimmed over the fields. The corporal sat on the rear door of the craft, his legs hung on the sky, no nervousness troubled him, his mind was at peace, this was for what they trained for, and what they signed up for. The One-Oh-Third "Assassins" ODST Platoon flew on three Pelicans, the orders simple, to move into Lyon and relieve any human forces. These Helljumpers were lucky, they were on QRF at the time the order came in to scramble, and relieve friendly forces engaged inside the city. No one knew who it was, if it were special Operations that had infiltrated or civilians didn't matter, they would go happy into the fight.
       "Hey Everton, you Ok?" asked Private Pryor.
       "Yea," answered. This would be Everton second unit since he arrived in planet, he was the only one with combat experience against Echo Tango. His platoon had been slaughtered in the battle in the Lyon woods, it was payback time.
       "FUBAR," said the pilot of the Pelican, a weird word for a Navy pilot to use.
       "What is it?" asked Everton.
       "The city," said the cold voice of Sergeant Evans.
       Everton turned his head and looked at the open cockpit of the craft.

       The city was destroyed, smoke raised almost everywhere inside it, fires on every major building. It was FUBAR. The Covenant had bullied the civilians inside the city, now it was time to level the score.

From: UNSC Germany, Office of Naval Intelligence reconnaissance Squadron.
To: Head Quarters, First Marine Division.
Distribution: Classified, only HHQDiv.

       1.- 0703h (SMT) reconnaissance flight from Carrier Germany SCV over the Objective Delta Mike discovered surviving civilians engaged with Covenant Forces.
       2.- By directive MarCom 1204 available Marine units are to advance to target and relieve engaged human forces.

Colonel Dan Harley closed the display of the computer screen; the briefing room was full of officers from different ranks, this message was a sing of hope, that it might not be too late. In the mind of Dan Harley it was. Estimates from intelligence came in, eighty per cent casualties, the remaining twenty percent variables between alive and DOA, ninety seven percent infrastructures damaged or destroyed, all basic services, from electricity to water at zero output. The survivors on the city would not hold on for long, this forced the Marines to launched an unprepared assault, the order came at the time when the main units were refitting, a worse time could not be picked, even by the Covenant.
       He looked at the digital screen on the circular table in the middle of the Tactical Operations Center; the darkened room was in a way, a large computer station. A large number of glass screens and individual computers surrounded the epicenter of the room, the tactical map in the circular table.
       "Sir, Helljumpers are just over the river, two and a half clicks from the city, heading for target area," said a young operator who controlled the computer on the screen. The "target" was locations were a large fight was taking place, the insertion method, rappel, not a preferable tactic in the ODST community. The platoon of ODST would be followed later by Task Force Lyon, a combination of different units, all from third Marines. Two battalions strength now.
       "Contact, light AAA over the city, Bombswords engaging now."

The massive, thick, red plasma fire streaked upwards, a surprise that spared both Chickens. The elder men frustrations were, indeed, justified as the two Jackals survived, he covered behind a rock as soon as the guns fired, he cloud not see them but knew exactly where they were, by the parallel street. That explained why the two Jackals were alone in the destroyed building, they were protecting something, a gun. The plasma tracers headed all to the sky in a random pattern. He knew exactly what they were.
       Oh finally, the UNSC is coming! I have to leave to tell the others..
       He crawled back to the house where the friends hid, through the same rubble, slowly covering him self with everything he could. It was a slow crawl.

       "It's me," whispered.
       "Come in," said Pierre as he lowered the rifle and moved away from the window.
       "What's going on," said Fabian as he aimed his rifle out the broken window scanning for threats. A roar of a jet answered the question. The UNSC is coming.

Assault on Lyon, Chapter One: Part A
Date: 20 March 2005, 9:40 PM

UNSC Colony Dijon.
City of Lyon.
2km from Church Area

The familiar sound of incoming artillery made him instinctively to cover behind the rock.

       The effect after the shock of the explosion is indescribable for anyone who hasn't been under it. The high pitched sound in your ears, how your brain slowly reboots, you can see everything clearly but cannot react, it was a like a bad dream. For Pierre it was not a new state of mind, just an interval of war. His brain slowly began to function correctly, after he was him self again he collapsed against the rock. He noticed he was trembling, the fear was too much to cover.

       It just doesn't stop, I can't much more of this shit.

       After a few seconds of uncontrolled trembling he regained composure. It was time to continue with his task. He took a deep breath; he exhaled, then placed his right hand on the top of the rock, he slowly raised his head over the large rock. He watched a growing fire down by the road, he knew what it was, it was not artillery shell what landed two blocks down the street, it was a human bomber. The massive "Bombsword" had been shoot down by the Covenant fixed guns further down the road, it was the third Pierre knew of.
       His target was simple, scout the area on the parallel street from the hideout. He meticulously scanned every inch behind the relative safety of the rock; there was nothing to be seen. He had seen enough.
       Time to leave.
       It was time for bravery again, to expose him self as he retreated, he contracted every muscle in his body, he set his mind blank, and he took another deep breath, he slowly rose, he caught a glimpse of a creature as he turned to get out.

       Chickens.

       He immediately ducked behind the rock again, three creatures had appeared, by the opposite side of the street, carefully taking cover by a collapsed roof behind the large chunks of cement of the former structure, they were wielding their sniper rifles at different angles, covering all the possible sides of the street. If the three Jackals were working by the "book" they were doing reconnaissance for a larger group, the aliens were predictable on the ground, and Pierre knew it very well that he could not stay there. The remnants of the house where he hid were lower compared to the buildings in the opposite one, the two store building was built with an underground parking garage, the building collapsed over it, thence it was lower than the others at street level, an advantage he planned to seize, he could get out. He realized something, he was scared, he took a deep breath, he pressed his back against the rock, and after he exhaled he looked up to the sky, attempting to find beauty in the awful moment.

       Odd.

       Two white dots were visible, descending very close to each other. Pierre watched carefully; he made out the outline of the two ejection capsules, provably from the shoot down aircraft. The trio of Chickens aimed their rifles to the sky, their bright white fangs visible as they laughed and smiled, preparing to hunt their evening meal. Pierre face contracted, this time anger took over the comon sense, he was not going to let the two pilots die that easy, even though it was suicidal to take the three of them by him self. He placed the butt of the rifle on the shoulder, he slowly knelt into a comfortable firing position behind the cover behind the rock, the unaware chickens didn't know that they as well being stalked by a hunter.

Machinegun fire erupted bellow the descending air crew, the pilot scanned with the camera where it came from, right bellow him a firefight was taking place, this would be a hostile landing. He opened the weapons hatch right next to the seat, extracting the gear he had to use to survive. Captain Robert Ellis, UNSC Navy prepared to fight as a grunt, not in his job description.
       Landing in thirty three sierras, reported the neural interface on his combat helmet.
       The pilot cocked the sub-machinegun from his survival gear, it was time to fight. He hadn't heard from his copilot, Covenant electronic jamming gear crippled the capsules comm. set. He was on his own.

Pierre reloaded the third magazine, there were two more chickens he didn't see before he fired a bad mistake since now he had been dragged into a fire fight and not a hit and run run as he would have wanted. He pressed his back against the rock, and then slowly peeked to the right side, there it was, at least one of them, over a rock aiming right for him. Experience told him that the other was on a flanking run, this one serving as bait; he ignored it and looked for the other Chicken. He peeked right, the other bastard was climbing a partially destroyed building, possibly to take a vantage point on high ground, and if Pierre allowed it he would not survive the firefight on the long run. He peeked right again this time he exposed him self, he pressed the trigger spraying a whole magazine into the chicken whose back was exposed as he climbed by a tube on the wall, it was toured apart.
       Three fast beams struck the rock, all missing him. He knew that he had to go; he knew the Covenant sniper rifles took some time to cool of, he was going to run for it, otherwise Covenant reinforcements would swarm the area before he could kill the second chicken. He prepared to spray a whole magazine into the last known position of the chicken.

       Whoosh.

       A rocket soared overhead unexpected. He and the chicken took cover, he looked up, it was not a jet, it was the ejection capsule. Its rocket ignited to avoid the crash, Pierre peeked right, watching it set gently on the rubble. The door popped, a pilot walked out firing a machinegun into a pile of rubble, the scream of pain of the chicken could be heard shortly after.

Ellis NVG allowed him to see exactly were the Jackal hid; he emptied a whole magazine on some rocks, and killed it just after the door of the capsule popped. He had scanned the firefight from the sky; he knew someone, possibly a resistance fighter, had saved his ass thence he had to repay the favor.
       "You can come out, I'm friendly," said calmly the pilot. The head of the fighter popped behind a rock on a destroyed building. It showed no expression, it was covered behind mud, dust and blood; his two eyes seemed to see through the pilot. He placed his finger in front of his mouth signaling to shut up, he then gestured Ellis to come to his position. Ellis moved down the slope of rubble, scanning the surroundings with his powerful night vision goggles, it was clear of threats. He slid the final two meters behind the rock. Before he could talk the fighter shut him with his hand, he then signaled to a small trail under the rubble. The pilot nodded, and then walked to the trail, the fighter following him shortly after.

       The hideout wasn't that bad the pilot thought, at least from the outside, the housed seemed intact, compared to the others in the block. They walked over the rubble of a parallel building, and then they slowly walked to a window on the side of the house. The fighter whistled like a canary, shortly after another whistle came in response. They both jumped inside the window. The pilot saw a teenager aiming a bolt action rifle right at him.
       "Easy fella," said the pilot, the scariness in his voice noticeable for everybody.
       The boy's face was pretty much like the older fighter, dirty and emotionless, his voice however was different, "you are lucky, it thought a chicken was following Pierre," the voice was filled with a crying like tone.
       "Robert Ellis, Captain UNSC," said the captain proudly.
       "I'm Pierre," said the fighter with the same, expressionless face, "about time you guys got here," said now with a glimpse of happiness in his expression.
       "Oh yes I'm getting tired of fighting," said the kid, again with the sad tone in his voice.
       "C'mon, follow us to the basement," said Pierre, the trace of happiness was gone.

       "Ok, here is the thing," said the pilot, the four fighters sat around him, exited to hear what he was about to tell, "We thought the city was completely gone. Once we discovered you guys were in play we moved with what we have at hand, that was a bad call. We didn't expect the Covenant air defenses to be this heavy."
       "Covenant?" asked the older men.
       "Oh yes, that's what they are called."
       "Shit eaters," said the leader of the group, Francois, "that's what we called them."
       The pilot laughed, the others didn't, and just stared at him, he felt remorse for the laugh, he had to assure them that the sacrifices were not in vain.
       "It is just a matter of time," said the pilot as he greened, "we will defeat them."

Two hours later

"Ropes!" screamed the crew chief as he released the two rappel ropes over the building.
       "First squad, right rope," called calmly Lieutenant Roy. Everton ran from his seat, grabbing the thick rope with his hands, he jumped out of the Pelican, lacing his feet around the rope, descending the fifty meters rapidly into the roof of the unscratched building. He landed softly, he then ran to the edge of the roof, kneeling behind the cover of the thick yet low wall that served as a obstacle between the roof and the street.
       He scanned the opposite building's windows, not targets to be seen at plain sight. "East building clear!"
       The squad cleared the roof in a heartbeat; every adjacent building's windows were cleared.
       "Fire team Alpha, stack up on the door," ordered the squad leader Master Sergeant Evans. Everton stood, turned around, and walked into the center of the roof were the door was in a square shaped cement structure that led into the stairs. The fire team consisted of four men, Pryor, Almeida and Fallon and Everton who led it. He extracted the probe of the heart bit sensor of the custom battlefield suite; he stuck the circular sensor to the door, nothing.
       "Clear," said Everton.
       He placed the lock pick device on the electronic lock. It beeped three times, the lock was opened. Pryor then walked ahead of Wayne Everton, he traversed until the door was right in front of him.

       He kicked the door. "Alpha breach!" reported Everton as he followed Pryor in.

Up in Pelican "Dash 13" Ensign Roy Chance was in over watch over the city, protecting the ODST platoon that just landed from threats outside the building. He took the craft just above the building.
       "Contact!" called the voice of a private over the radio. Immediately machinegun fire erupted bellow the hovering craft.
       In the troop compartment the sniper noticed something in a building nearby, it was odd, like a small ball with a tube attached to it. It took him some time, but eventually he figure out what it was, too late for the pilot to react.
       "Anti-Air, six o' clock low, breaks right!"
       Chance pushed the throttle forward and pulled the elevation lever and the joystick up; he reacted as he was trained but it was too late, three radioactive fuel balls struck the craft amidships, shattering one of the forward turbofans. As the craft swung uncontrollably Chance struggled to keep the craft under control, trying to compensate for the lost fan, the aircraft rotated from right to left, decreasing altitude gradually.
       "Watch out for the building," screamed the crew chief. Chance didn't saw it in time, the front of the aircraft struck building, just bellow the cockpit, the chain gun was ripped apart together with a large chunk of the crafts' nose, the radar and radio antennas were gone. Chance pulled the elevation lever, pulling the aircraft up. The crash with the building made the craft stop swinging, Chance managed to compensate for the lost fan as he climbed, regaining control of the craft.
       "Command this is Dash 13, I'm hurt, I'm going back," there was no response to Chance's call over the radio. He looked at his copilot, his face was pale and he was breathing uncontrollably.
       "I need you with me on this," said Chance with a serious face, "c'mon bud, don't leave me hanging."
       The copilot shook his head and then looked at his panel, "I'm going to check that radio."

The large command craft hovered in a holding pattern, escorted by two Dagger fighters, just ten miles from Lyon.
       Reports came in from the city, contact in every direction. Dan Harley watched the digital map, the growing number of OPFOR and the small size of his force were enough to scare him.
       "This is Shade zero four, we are taking triple A and small arms from the and around the landing zone, and it's an ambush," reported a disturbed Captain.
       Harley walked to the comm. station of the Tactical Operation Center. "What's the status on the Helljumpers?" asked Harley.
       The private manning the radio looked at him, "no contact, they reported been engaged just a while ago."
       "Keep trying," said Dan as he walked back to the map, he hid his feelings, if he didn't he would show one thing, fear and sorrow for the men he had just send to their dead, it was not what a good commander should do. He crossed his arms and stared at the circular table that showed the map, two large arrow shaped flights were heading into the city, First and Second battalion.
       "I think we should call this off," said Command Sergeant Major Doug. Experienced, seasoned men who had no room for bullshit.
       "Yes, we should, but we can't," said Colonel Harley.
       "Roger that," said Doug.
       Both men knew that the decision to attack with out proper preparation was a mistake that will be paid with blood. But the men and woman that survived the attack deserved that sacrifice, and the men and woman of the UNSC would do it.

Lance Corporal David Bradley kept a tight grip on the tube on the holder of the Pelican. He looked outside the window; the fields of the planet of Dijon were simply beautiful. Hundreds of farms, rivers, lakes and small villages were scattered on the green carpet of Galilee continent.
       "Yo, Bradley you ready for the shit?" asked sergeant Brown.
       "Hurrah sarge!" yielded Bradley.
       "Hey Thomas, how ya feeling," said Bradley as he slapped his best friend shoulder.
       Thomas turned his head and stared Bradley. His face was strained, Bradley would find out soon enough why. The stomach of Thomas contracted, ejecting digested food and acids on Bradley's boots.
       "Oh, fuck you god dam Jarhead!" Bradley cursed all over the compartment, the Marines laughed at the spectacle as Thomas threw up again on the floor.
       "Dam, those MREs sure carry some fiber on it," said Thomas as he took sip from his canteen. His face lit up in smile, he stared at Bradley who walked to the end of the Pelican spiting into the air by the open hatch in the rear.
       "Fuck ya leather neck," said Bradley, really pissed.
       "You boys chill," said the commanding voice of Sergeant Brown, "target is only three clicks away, prepare to go medieval."

Shade Thirteen.
Five kilometers from LZ Yankee Bean

"I think it'll hold," said the copilot to Chance. The Pelican moved, al most touching the buildings bellow it.
       "Yea, as long as we don't have to maneuver hard."
       What chance didn't know was that he was heading right into friendly forces undetected.

"You guys in the rear, ell zee is two clicks away," the Marines looked at each other, "lights, camera and action!" screamed the pilot.
       "Geek," said Thomas refering to the pilot.
       "Right on," said PFC Malone, new to the squad but not for the war.
       "Shut up... let's hope for a smooth landing," said the sergeant.
       In the cockpit the flight crew prepared for the landing at the square, what they didn't know was that a friendly Pelican was heading in a collision course in their path.

With out transporder, and flying low it was undetected, the Pelican flew right into the flight of first Battalion.
"Break right! Break Right!" screamed the copilot at pilot Roy Chance, though he reacted rapidly, the craft was not in the condition for a fast break, the craft swung until it was almost parallel to the second Pelican, they both collided laterally. Both crafts stuck together, unable to break away from each other they lost control, the crashed in a major avenue.

Two hours later
Unknown location in the city of Lyon.

Wake up.
       Hmm.
       Wake up darling.
       Bradley saw his dead moms face, she was a beautiful woman, he wa- "wake the fuck up bitch," the uglier face of Private Albert Thomas appeared out of the blur, looking right at him smiling as Bradley opened his eyes, "you scared the crap out of me, don't do that again," he said seriously.
       Bradley looked around, the Pelican was partially turned around, and six corpses lay on the compartment, he recognaized a few of them, old buds from A Company. A heavy firefight was taking place around the craft, he looked at the cockpit door, there was nothing to be seen, only a hole filled with rubble.
       "At we in the right place," asked Bradley puzzled.
       "If by the right place you mean deep shit," said Thomas seriously, "you're on," he smiled as he grabbed Bradley by the harness and lifted him, "let's go!"
       Bradley sat; he grabbed a rifle from a dead men's body. On the starboard gunner's window was a Marine firing a light machinegun, Bradley could only see the legs of him. The Marine dropped to reload, his name was Lance Corporal Matt Perry and he stared right at Bradley, looking kind of worried.
       "I just go two Elites men!" he shouted in a joyful tone, "I'm a baaaad motherfucker!"
       Bradley laughed, then checked his gear and looked back at Perry who was trying to clear the breech of his Machinegun, "who's in charge? I don't see searge Brown."
       "C'mon, we need a solid base of fire, many Covenants out there."

       Bradley walked behind Perry to the gunner's window, "Brown is on the rubble on the right, you run and don't stop, and I cover your ass."
       "Roger," said Bradley as he pushed him self up, struggling to climb upwards, Perry had to push him up. Once up he scanned around.
       Dam, everything is gone to hell.
       The avenue was full with rubble and skeleton of buildings, the street was wide, the two Pelicans crashed parallel to each other, Bradley's Pelican just behind the other.
       He saw a trio of men firing down the street by a building, the ground floor, it was blown away, and the upper floor was held by a few pillars. Just like every building in the street it was three or two stories up, the avenue was a mile long in each direction, the Marines didn't knew it as rubble blocked the view a few hundred meters at each direction, massive buildings had collapsed.
       Bradley's run to the sergeant position was eventless, random plasma bolts struck the rocks around him. He rolled the last meter into the building were two wounded pilots lay, being attended by a shaky Marine.
       "Hey Brad, nice to see ya' it's a FUBAR situation we have here," the sergeant fired a burst from his rifle to a Grunt that popped out of the rubble, "it's real hot here," he fired again at apparently nothing in a building fifty meters away, "we count eleven Kilo-India-Alpha and twice the number of wounded," he pulled a canteen from his harness and took a large sip, "contact everywhere, and the good news," the sound of a incoming artillery plasma bolt made everyone instinctively cover, after the blast the sergeant resumed, "is that there is no radio and we have a tank nearby." The sergeant sighted and then looked at Bradley, "go get Thomas and move down the road, try to find out where the bastard is, when we get the radio back up I'm going to drop some ay-tee on the bastard."
       "Right on searge," said Bradley as he headed back into the Pelican.

"Sir it all went to hell," said Lieutenant Colonel Peyton west over the Radio.
       "Why?" asked Harley.
       "We got hit a massive barrage of triple A," he was interrupted by an explosion, "I got five or so companies on the ground, scattered and non cohesive," the colonel paused for a second, the heavy battle on the background audible to everyone in the TOC, "we are on an oval shaped perimeter," the fight intensified, still audible for everyone, "I got a battle to lead." He did not need to say any more words, Harley understood him. He walked to the display map, recently updated. The oval shaped perimeter was exactly where the resistance radio reports were last heard, the area was called "church area" by the resistance. Just after the UNSC attack they seemed to just fade away, only small pockets of survivors were found. For the Marines it was all in the hands of Majors, Captains, Lieutenants and Sergeants. Dan Harley had trained them and prepared them for this situation, it now for the young people to die and for him to lead.

Assault on Lyon, Chapter I: Part B. New objective
Date: 1 April 2005, 4:27 AM

UNSC Colony Dijon
City of Lyon
LZ Bravo Zulu
Nine and a half clicks from downtown.

"Sir!" screamed a Private right in his face.
       The Colonel reacted swiftly, reaching for his holster, his sidearm was gone however. It would be of no use; there was not a single enemy nearby only his shattered Head Quarters.
       "Colonel, they just shelled the HQ to oblivion," said Private Carl Finch relieved to see his CO alive, with a calm tone he informed the Colonel of the grave situation, "Colonel, the entire Task Force staff is dead, I thought you were dead too," the Private took a deep breath, "I can't find Captain Muller."
       "Say what p-f-c?"
       "Covenant may make their move soon, we need you to stay focused like always sir," said impatiently the Private.
       Lieutenant Colonel Peyton West, commander of First Battalion, Third Marines stood up. His Command Post got hit by Covenant artillery while he took a nap; the roof of the house was gone, evaporated by Covenant plasma fired by Wraiths in indirect mode. He checked him self for injuries, looking for traces of blood on his uniform, finding nothing but dust.
       "Fuck sir, fucking react!"
       The Colonel paid no attention to the rudeness of the private, "give me a SITREP Marine," said the Colonel as he stood, scanning every inch of the destroyed building.
       "Our radio is gone," the Private signaled through a window, a large hole was on the position were the antenna had been, "our field radios are no good contacting HQ, the Covenant are jamming every comm. equipment we have, that antenna was the only thing hooking up us with Almighty."
       "Ok son, is anyone pulling security?" as grabbed Finch's hand and pulled to stand, "what is the situation around the CP?"
       "Well... sir... they-"
       "Fuck Private, follow me," the Colonel grabbed an assault rifle of the ground, a hand was still attached to the handle, and walked out of the house by a hole in the wall nearby, the situation outside in the large pentagonal square was not pretty, hundreds of men were running around, hurling ammunition and supplies from the burning caches to a safe zone. Every structure was either fire or destroyed.
       He looked around, trying to find an officer that could tell him the general situation. He stuck to the wall on his right, walking very low to avoid snipers. He walked by the aid station, Medics were lining wounded soldiers and assisting them by the gravity of their wounds. He crawled to one of them and tapped him in the head.
       "Son is there an officer around here?" the Medic turned around, he was a civilian assigned to the Battalion by the Navy, his white face showed no feel.
       "Sorry sir," he said as he returned to work on the wounded, "maybe further down the road."
       "right," the colonel kept walking; a battle was going down in the south-eastern perimeter, sounds of explosions and machineguns were audible all over the perimeter. Finch was about to open his mouth, West stopped him, "not my problem to lead that battle, I have to regain control of the Battalion." He spotted a young lieutenant by a Warthog in the southernmost corner. He approached him by the back, a corporal next to the officer warned him of his presence and he turned around and nodded, not saluting by the growing fear of Covenant snipers.
       "Sir, Lieutenant Miller, First Platoon, A Company."
       "At ease," he said as he nodded back, "SITREP please."
       The lieutenant sighed, "my platoon is further down the road, they have no contact. I lost a squad during insertion when their Pelican was shoot down, together with my platoon sergeant and my XO."
       The Colonel nodded, "how about the rest of the Battalion."
       "I was just about to ask you," said sarcastically, "sir."
       "Roger," said the Colonel, "where is the CO of Alpha?"
       "Last I saw him he was looking for him," he signaled Private Finch, "he was really pissed."
[quote] The Colonel needed to get word to topside about his Battalion's situation, "Il need to contact my XO who should be by B Company area of Operations," the Colonel said with his characteristic candor and eloquence, "any word on them?"
       "They just got charged by some Grunts," the Lieutenant grabbed his personal pad and placed it over the passenger seat of the vehicle, the pressed the icons on the screen until he got the window he wanted,, "the Covenant destroyed the uplink, this is the last update I've got."
       The map showed Bravo Company perimeters on a townhouses condominium a bare five kilometers to the north, they showed them on very tight formation in several buildings in the triangular condominium, the Grunts were in a disturbingly large conglomeration of red dots in every flank.
       "Well, I'll need to get some one down there and see if they have comm.," he said in a tone the lieutenant understood perfectly.
       "Sure thing sir, I'll send the vehicle to contact them," he tapped the Warthog, "we'll contact them sir. You need to square things here."

City of Lyon
Unknown location
0.2Km from Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

"Fire the dam thing," screamed Lieutenant Walsh at Private Thomas who struggled to pinpoint the window with the laser designator on the Jackhammer launcher.
       "Bad laze, bad laze!" screamed Thomas. The Jackals sniper or snipers were very well concealed on a building a kilometer away. Thomas was trying to lock the missiles on a window were a the Snipers were laying fire on the Marines position, Covenant jamming interfered with the laser designator on the missile. Thomas was left with a single option, aim manually but it was a difficult and long shot.
       "Fuck it, just fire it!" Bradley screamed as he in a baby shaped position on a ditch was pinned down, the ditch was formed by Lieutenant Walsh with a satchel charge.
       Although Thomas was not a good soldier, he was a good fighter. He was not rattled by the situation, nor for the accurate Covenant fire or the scream of his comrades. He waited for that exact moment where the reticule aligned with the window. He squeezed the trigger at that right moment, bump and a soft recoil indicated that the two missiles were ejected from the launcher.

       Whoosh.

       Their boosters ignited ten meters away from, Thomas was immediately surrounded by white smoke, he ducked behind a pile, in time to avoid the suppressive fire from the covenant Snipers; the missiles streaked at supersonic speeds to the two windows.
       You see this a hundred times in training, but never so beautiful, thought Bradley in the ditch.
       The target of the missiles was a two floors building that was tall enough to give the Covenant a good vantage point on the attacked the street. The first missile struck the building on the roof, a large chunk of it disappeared under the explosion; it did not inflict the damage required. The second rocket miraculously entered the window, the one oh two millimeter warhead detonated when it hit a wall, the effects of the explosion were a relieving sight from the Marines position, every window let out a cloud of rubble and fire, a Jackals body was visible as it left the window on fire.
       "Boom! Oh yea!" screamed Ensign Chance as he watched it from the second floor of a building in the street, at the same level of the fire team.
       "Oh fuck I'm a god!" screamed Thomas.
       Bradley laughed uncontrollably, "thank you 'bert!" he crawled to a safer position in the ditch.
       The celebration did not last long, a combination of needles and plasma beams opened up from adjacent buildings of the one that was just blown up, heating the environment around them.
       "Here we go!" said Bradley as he took cover on the ditch and fired his rifle randomly down the street. The Marines held the northern most corner of the street where the Pelican crashed, it was now under attack by over one hundred Covenant creatures, held only by eight battle hardened Marines.

Loitering over the City of Lyon
Joint UNSC Forces Command TOC

"Sir, we just lost contact with First Battalion," said the Regiment Operations Officer.
       "Are they overrun?" asked the Commander of Third Marines, Colonel Dan Harley, he was ashamed to ask this question, it was his job to now that. The last time he checked the tactical Map the battalion had been facing probing, not assault. He was busy trying to find a LZ for his second force, Task Force 2-3 Marines. He started the war with four Battalions, in they previous fight they had been depleted, he had now only two in strength, he formed then and shipped them out.
       "I don't think so," the Officer signaled him to walk to the map, witch he did, "we have contact with almost everyone, but A Company signal is gone. Not only that but Covenant jamming is awfully good, if we don't take out those jammers we will eventually loose communications with the units in the field that doe not have broadband sat link radios."
       He looked at the map, Lieutenant Colonel West plan was simple, and he had set them up in a square shaped Perimeter, with one Company in each corner and one on the center.
       "We can't move our Companies on the perimeter," if he did a gap would open on the perimeter, a gap the Covenant would certainly exploit, "send some Air on them."
       "We can't fleet is busy engaging a new Covenant fleet. And our SkyHawks and Pelicans are too slow to fly over the city."
       "Ok," the Colonel was now worried, "we are going to send Armor into the city, tell them to prepare."
       "Sir," the Colonel new what his Operations Officer was going to say, Armor with out infantry cannot survive in an urban environment.
       "I know," he interrupted, "but we have no choice, get one LAR and two Tanks ready to move."


City of Lyon
Objective Foxtrot
103rd ODST Platoon Area of Operations

The Jackal ran to cover to no use, a massive twenty mike mike round struck him in the head and it fell dead. A grave yard of Covenant creatures littered the one beautiful avenue; this part of the city was the most Luxurious of it all, large buildings with good penthouses with Helipads. The Perfect zone for an air assault, except of course that it was infested by Covenant, poor recon and bad intelligence was a receipt for this disaster. The LZ came under a heavy charge right after they landed. The Helljumpers held their ground at the cost of half of the platoon.
       There was only a survivor on Corporal Wayne Everton's fire team; Private Pryor who was on the upper floor, covering the street with the sniper rifle, the rest of his fire team was ripped to pieces next to him in the large lobby of the building. Down by the road there was another team under Lieutenant Carol Roy of twenty, they were holding the target building, they had just fought of a Covenant attack, taking one more casualty.
       "Lima-Lima one-two, check in over." called the Lieutenant.
       "Roger ma'am," Everton was relieved to hear a friendly voice.
       "Corporal, we can't move," she was interrupted by a burst of a machinegun, "try to find friendly forces, they should be to the south," she was again interrupted by an explosion, "and report, try and get some support, we wi-" a major firefight erupted, audible by bare ears "-go and fucking do it Corporal, out!"
       Everton froze for a second before resuming, "Pryor, we are moving out!"
       "Roger!" was heard from over the building.
       The Helljumper ran down into the stairs, and met Everton in the luxurious lobby of the small building; both men turned on their data pads and looked for the coordinates.
       "That's seven clicks away," said Pryor.
       "Uh-hmm," said Everton as he thought of the best route to proceed, according to his situational awareness screen on his HMD he saw the direct path blocked by a large, cohesive force of the Covenant, there was not much to think about it, he plotted the necessary waypoints on the pad and uploaded them to Pryor's data pad, "we will take the long route."
       "Ok," said Pryor, "I would say go straight in," he smiled, "but I have no say about it."
       "Roger pal," said Everton.

       Beep, Beep.

       Two steady beeps sounded in Everton's helmet, the motion tracker detected movement on the rear of the building. With no orders need Pryor ran through the stairs he took down to the third floor of the building. Everton walked with his rifle at the ready to the back of the building, he went into a baggage room through a room hidden behind the counter of the immense lobby. This contingency plan was built by the sergeant, who was vaporized by needles in the first fight. Everton found his position, the emergency fire door behind the building, the motion tracker showed nothing. He inserted the fiber optic probe under the door, nothing to be seen, he moved it around for while, finding nothing.
       "Clear," said Everton.
       "Not quite, I just saw air move by a car on the opposite street," replied Pryor.
       Oh fuck, cloakers, he had a very bad experience at the Lyon woods with them, they slaughtered his platoon.
       "Ok, you know the drill," Everton had come up with this plan to counter the camouflaged Elites, he would throw a grenade to reveal the Elite's position, draw fire to allow a second men or team take them out.
       "Roger," said Pryor.
       He slowly placed his hand on the door knob; he readied a grenade with his other hand. He rapidly pulled the knob, the emergency door sung open, the pressurized gas on the mark of the door were released, opening the door on a swift movement, the fire alarm sounded scaring the Elites outside the room, he threw the grenade out. The four Elites watched in surprise how the small rock landed in front of them. Everton covered him self behind the wall next to the door just in time to avoid the blast of the explosion, it shook the ground, dust and debris raised from the explosion entered the room. Everton removed the safety, six shots and a volley of plasma fire; Everton activated his TIS by hitting a button on the right side of his helmet, he removed the safety of the gun, he peeked right, he found an Elite running right towards the door, the dust and the heat generated from the explosion revealed its position. Everton aimed at the center of the beast, he pulled the trigger of his submachine gun, the Elite stood no chance, and it fell dead on the ground.
       "Report!" he screamed as he took cover again.
       "I took three down, good job on the last one," reported Pryor.
       Everton sighed relieved, that feeling would not last for long.

       Beep, Beep, Beep... the motion tracker on the front of the building went berserk.

       "Move Pryor," Everton said calmly, "MOVE!"

City of Lyon
Between LZ Bravo Zulu and LZ Bravo X-Ray
Eleven clicks from downtown.

They had been going on for nine minutes, they had not met any covenant during the short trip, the digital display showed the speed of witch the vehicle moved, 120mph. Fox may have not been the best soldier, but he sure knew how to drive. "Where did you learn how to drive Marine?" asked Sergeant Defoe.
       "Video games!" said the private joyfully, "sir!"
       "Good to now," the Sergeant said calmly, still worried, "LZ should be to the right of the next corner." The mission was to link up with Second Battalion and inform the situation, so far, there was no indication that the objective could not be achieved. Fox reduced the speed for the tight turn, the vehicle turned right.

       "Oh fuck!" screamed the Sergeant.

       A Covenant roadblock was in the middle of the street. A Wraith lay flat on the ground. "Oh my God, floor it!" the sergeant screamed as he pulled his sidearm and aimed it to Elite who noticed the vehicle, he pulled the trigger. The muzzle blast alerted the entire Covenant in the roadblock. Three bullets hit the Elite in the chest, for a reason unknown to both men its shield was down, the three bullets toured into the chest sending blue blood over a sleeping Grunt. The vehicle accelerated away, the building in the corner received absorbed the plasma blows desperately fired by the Covenant.
       "Go, go, go!" screamed the sergeant as he climbed into the rear to man the chain gun.

City of Lyon
Unknown location
0.2Km from Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

"That window private!" screamed the Lieutenant he was pinned down, unable to move by a spray of plasma over his ditch; the battle was so fierce that he was not heard by Thomas.
       "Hmm?" grunted Thomas to Bradley, who could not hear the Lieutenant.
       "I think he wants you to hit that building," he signaled to the building Thomas just fired a Jackhammer at.
       "Oh, sure, that's smart." He knelt into the firing position, this time there was not jamming, he painted the window, and the range was immediately entered into the targeting computer in the rocket. He squeezed the trigger; building took two more hits and collapsed, slowly the Covenant diminished and ceased.
       The lieutenant slowly raised his head, he watched in anger how Thomas failed to destroy de desired building "Fuck dumb ass, the other building," the lieutenant did not know that it was a good thing what Thomas involuntarily did.

City of Lyon
Unknown location
0.7Km from Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42.

Fabian watched through the window how the building took two more hits and crumbled. Who in the resistance could have that fire power? He turned around and headed for the basement. He found the four older men playing cards, not worried by the massive detonation, "excuse me," said Fabian in a shy tone.
       "Speak up my boy," say the eldest of the men.
       "Oh, well, I think you should see this."

       "Dang, someone has some serious fireworks back there," said the UNSC Captain.
       "I don't know who has that kind of power," said Francois, "it is not one of us."
       "I was a rocket that's for sure," said Fabian, "the explosion was red, not blue."
       "No RPG that big around here," said Pierre.
       "Ok," said the older men as he looked at Francois, "remember those aircrafts that passed overhead a while ago?"
       "Pelicans," said Captain Ellis "couldn't have landed near here?"
       The five men looked at each other, they all understood the situation. "I will go to see what is happening."

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

"That was not the building meathead!"
       "Might be," said Thomas intimidated, "but when I blew the sucker to hell they all ran away!"
       "Shit head," said the Lieutenant, "you blew it," he sighed, "We don't have the ammo to go pounding everything we can."
       "Oh," said Thomas regretfully, "still it was fucking amazing."
       "Call me stupid," said Private Zambrano.
       "Asshole," said Thomas, the team holding the Northern perimeter laughed, even Zambrano.
       "But isn't it weird that Covenant retreated like that?" finished Zambrano.
       "That's right," said Lieutenant Walsh, "I need a volunteer to find out what happened."
       An unexpected person did, "I will," said Ensign Roy Chance.
       "Dude, how could you, you are an amateur," said Bradley.
       "Alright expert," said Lieutenant Walsh, "you are going with him."

Twenty five minutes later

Bradley placed two of his fingers in front of his eyes; he spotted movement from the rubble in the building parallel of the one that Thomas destroyed. The green Ensign chanced nodded; he was Covering Bradley's six o' clock.
       "Move right, seven meters, set up there and prepare to fall back," Bradley whispered, "scaled retreat on my go."
       "Roger," said Chance, a trace of fear in his voice.
       Bradley knelt and scanned the source of movement; he turned the Thermal imager, and scanned the rubble with his sight, "Oh my god," he looked at Chance with a face of disbelief, "it's one of us."
       Bradley stood out of cover. He walked forward with his rifle at the ready, still ready to fight if what he saw was wrong.
       "You can come out," said Bradley. A head popped a whole to the building.
       "Oh, am I glad to see a fellow Marine," said old men.
       "Oh shit," Bradley laughed, "you are on."
       The elder men hugged Bradley, who in a weird moved hugged back. "Sir, go fetch for the Lieutenant."

City of Lyon
Unknown location
0.2Km Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

"Ok, this is it," said the leader of the bunch at Bradley. Five men in total, not the thousands Bradley had hoped for. They were still an interesting gathering, a shoot down pilot, a man who looked one hundred years of age, two police officers and a kid. How they survived? Anyone guess. Apparently the old men went looking for the source of the explosion that detonated the building, some balls for an old man.
       "Nice set up you guys have here," said Bradley, he hoped for a kind reply.
       "Ok," said Pierre, "that's it!" he barked, "why is there only one of you?"
       "Yes where is the Division that was supposed to take this place?" asked the Captain impatiently.
       "Not a division, a regiment," said Bradley sarcastically, "they are somewhere by a Church to the east from here," Bradley sighted, embarrassed by the awkward situation, "we were going there also but a bastard rammed right into us and we crashed, sorry but we are not the relieve force."
       "Now that is great," said Fabian, for the first time with out fear on his voice.
       "Oh Fabi," said the old man with his gentle tone, "at least the people in the Church area are ok."
       "Survivors?" asked Francois in a suspicious tone, like if he was hiding something.
       "Don't know our radio is down."
       "Ok, we will not argue anymore," Bradley said with authority, "you will come with me to our perimeter, you will be safe there, I promise."

The walk from the hideout went with out a scratch, the Covenant retreated from the area, or it seemed, after Thomas blasted a building to hell. The Lieutenant was waiting for the men were Bradley had met the resistance fighter.
       "Nice to see you guys alive!" said the Lieutenant happily as he fearlessly stood from his concealed position in a ditch formed by debris and rubble.
       The column of five came appeared surprised by the emotion showed by the officer.
       "Lieutenant, tell me what is your status?" asked Captain Ellis ending the uncharacteristic happiness of the Officer.
       "Oh," the Lieutenant showed his serious face and stopped walking, as he did five more men popped out of their hiding places, "we have fifteen able bodies, eleven KIA and about twenty wounded. We have a perimeter set up but we have no radio. A crew chief is trying to fix one of the Pelican broadband sat links."
       "I think I can help with that."
       The Lieutenant smiled again at the survivors, "Thomas, take this men to the crash site, give them everything they want, take care of them."
       Thomas smiled, he hugged the little boy, "sure thing boss," he let got of the kid and smiled, "follow me men, we are going to the crib."

City of Lyon
0.5Km from LZ Bravo X-Ray
Thirteen clicks from downtown.

The sergeant pulled the butterfly triggers on the chain gun; the shells shattered a window and the incoming fire stopped, they had taken sporadic fire on the way up.
       "Hunter, eleven o' clock!" screamed the Private driving the vehicle. The sergeant stepped on the right pedal bellow the gun, the circular base of the gun traversed until it was aligned with the beast. The sergeant pulled the trigger, over five hundred rounds of fifty millimeters raced to the beast in a matter of seconds, the beast interlocked its arms, covering him self from the bullets.
       "Where is the other one?" asked the Private.
       "Fuck if I know!"
       The other Hunter of the pair hid in a building, waiting for the precise movement where the vehicle was with in its sights. The sergeant suddenly found him self rolling uncontrollably in the air, he saw the street how the other Hunter destroyed the wall and walked out into the street, and then he saw the sky. Its clean air free of the smog, it felt like a rush of happiness after hell, he was flying like a bird, the temperature drastically diminished, and the blisters in his body stopped aching. Then it was all black.

       The sergeant woke up in a unknown room, he was dizzy enough to not care, he tired to move his hand but it did not move. He raised his head from the comfortable pillow, he watched in horror how his hand was gone, and his leg was strapped with a cast. His body was filled with bandages, his left arm was immobilized. He tried to scream but he couldn't, he was now in the real hell.
       Major Isabel Corrido had come to the room as soon as she heard that some men from A Company had come here by vehicle. The medic attending both men stood and saluted as she entered the room, "they are both stable but real banged up."
       "Wake them up," she said. The Corporal injected a green paste into their IVs, both slowly they regained consciousness.
       The sergeant woke up, he was again in the same room in the same condition, this time, he really screamed, he closed his eyes as he did.
       Oh my god why me! I do not deserve this... he felt a cold hand grab him by the arms, oh no, what is this, he saw then the face of a soldier right in front of him, his mouth was moving but he couldn't hear him, he stopped yielding, "Where am I?".
       "CP of Bravo Company," said the voice of woman next to him, "how are you feeling?"
       The gentle voice made him fell relaxed and safe, "like shit, why am I like this?"        "You were in an accident," she said as she placed her nice, cold hand on his forehead, "you came here from LZ Bravo Zulu."
       He then knew what was happening and why was he there, "Alpha Co is out of comm. I was dispatched here to inform of the terrible situation. I have a message on my data pad for you ma'am."
       The sergeant took a deep breath, his brain overloaded, even with the drugs, he went into dreamland.
       "Roger that sergeant," she grabbed the data pad and looked at the sergeant, "you will rest know," she checked the sergeant gear on table next to the bed, she avoided the personal things, she grabbed his datapad.

       The Major walked out of the room and took the stairs to the basement; there the whole staff was working, coordinating communications and logistics, it was the TOC.
       She sat on a chair on a corner, a table with some mugs and canteen was next to him, the table was away from everybody and took out the sergeant data pad, the message was already on the screen. The message described the tactical and logistical situation of the Marines at LZ Bravo Zulu.
       "Comm. patch me through to Almighty," the drama in her voice was terrifying for the Marines at the CP.
       "Roger ma'am," said the radio operator. He typed some commands into his console; he turned around to face the mayor and tossed her the phone.

City of Lyon
Unknown location
5.1Km Crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42
4.2Km from Objective Foxtrot


The Helljumpers were lucky to escape. A whole Covenant Company trailing them a few hundred meters away, some smart ass in the Covenant chain of command had the idea of use the cloakers as a distraction, while they were fighting in the rear they stormed the front. They ran away from the fancy building just in time, Pryor had the brilliant idea to plant a lotus mine and a couple of satchel charges on the rear exit. Some pore Jackal activated the mine setting of a spectacular mushroom explosion, he bought them at least half an hour. They now where near their target, the crash site of the Pelican that inserted them, they were safely resting in a house that was far away from the heavy urban terrain where they were inserted into the city, it was in a peaceful semi-rural neighborhood located on a ridge.
       "Clear front," said Everton through his radio set.
       "Cl.... ear," the Covenant jamming of UNSC communications was incredibly effective, but now it was heavier than before. Everton turned around and walked to Pryor who was on a bedroom of the rural house, he was cleaning the bore of his rifle, he tapped him in the shoulder and nodded, Everton and him walked to the large living room, they crawled to a uncommonly large window, they took cover just bellow it, he activated his gun mounted camera.
       "How 'bout if you peek," said Pryor.
       He activated the camera by pressing the button on the digital display above the receiver, the HMD now showed what the muzzle of the rifle saw. He slowly raised his sub-machinegun on the window above him.
       "Oh my god," said Everton, "Covenant encampment."
       He kept scanning right, "oh shit," the expression of his mouth was all that that Pryor needed to know.
       There was large mass grave. "Oh my god," Everton raised his head mounted display and stared at Pryor who was kneeling next to him, "You take a look."
       Pryor did not say thing moved his rifle and watched the camera, he turned around and burped. Everton kept scanning, the camp was on a children's playground. Six massive plasma turrets, a vehicle park with Wraith and Ghosts, tents and he spotted what looked like an antenna on a large box.
       "Oh my god," said Everton, he looked at Pryor with a smile on his face.
       "If you like this crap you are sick," Pryor said.
       "I think I found a jamming device," Everton raised his HMD and grabbed his data pad, he went to the Covenant equipment information screen. He scrolled down until he found what he was looking for: ECM Device Classified as: "Noise", he clicked on it. The picture was taken on the woods; he uploaded the device information into his battle computer. He zoomed on the device and took a photograph of the device using his muzzle camera; the advanced software matched both pictures.
       He turned around and smiled, "jackpot!"

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

The night came swiftly, David Bradley slept in the ditch embraced by the darkness that flooded the street, another worry for the sentries a few meters away from him.
       Machinegun and plasma fire erupted nearby. Bradley immediately knelt with his rifle at the ready, he lowered his HMD and enabled the NVG, "Thomas are you near?"
       "Yes," his voice came from a well concealed position on the second floor of a building a pair of meters parallel from Bradley's ditch. For Bradley's surprise there was no direct fire on his position, he moved closer to the front of the ditch, and then set him self in good firing position covering the wide street, for his surprise there were no firefights in his street.
       "Thomas, who's shooting?"
       "I don't know," said Thomas, Bradley could hear him moving from side to side, scanning different sides of the street, "Lieutenant is coming."
       The Lieutenant heard the entire racket, he ran to the position of the North perimeter, accompanied by three more men, raising the fighting strength of the team to nine.
       The Lieutenant walked to Bradley's position with his head low, he gently entered the ditch and crawled next to him behind the cover with his rifle aiming down the street, "who's firing?"
       "No one in this position as far as I know," said Bradley with uncertainty, "I think is nearby."
       "Sure is son," said the familiar voice of Corporal Matt Perry.
       "Who's guarding the front?" asked the Lieutenant.
       "Malone," said Bradley, "he is hiding under some debris ahead."
       "Roger," the Lieutenant took a second to think, "go and ask him if he had seen anything."

Two hours later
City of Lyon
Unknown location
0.3Km from the crash site of Dash 13 and Slash 42

       "Target, Jackal by the rubble at eleven," informed Pryor, he fired a twenty mike mike round to the bird, the bullet literally cut the sniper in half, "its down."
       "Roger," said Everton as he fired at a position were a Grunt just showed his head, he emptied a drum magazine of two hundred rounds in cyclic mode in less than three seconds, he was rewarded with multiple scream of pains of several Grunts, "loading."
       The floor shook beneath them in intervals of two seconds; they knew exactly what it was, Hunters were nearby.
       In an unexpected move, twenty Grunts poured out of several buildings at the same time, it was a coordinated attack that placed the Helljumpers in a no win situation, the Grunts positioned themselves in defiladed positions on the rubble scattered through the street.
       "Pull out, scaled and blow retreat," ordered Everton. He fired a magazine into the Grunts, who returned fire indiscriminately down the street; Pryor took the last Lotus mine from his satchel and placed it in the ground.
       "It's up!"
       "Back now," said calmly Everton. As Pryor stood two plasma bolts struck him in the back.
       He collapsed into the ground. Everton did not move, the pulled a smoke grenade and threw it in front of the wreckage. Using the cover of the smoke he crawled and pulled Pryor to the left, he walked further down the street, a typical street with bus stops and advertisements sings, until he found a diner with its door opened, he carried Pryor in and placed him behind the food counter.
       "I'll be back," said Everton to Pryor who silently nodded.
       He ran out of the store and continued to run down the road, he was rattled when the heavy detonation of the Lotus mine occurred, he turned around and saw pieces of several Grunts scattered in the street. He found a good vantage point in a trash can, he set him self on a firing position. He waited for the Covenant creatures to show up.

       "Wort," screamed an Elite.

       Three Jackals strafed left until they were at the center of the street, their shields at the ready. They scanned the street; they were unable to see Everton who from the concealed position prepared for the kill. He slowly turned his head and looked for a fallback position whew he would go after the shot; there was a three car crash a bare fifteen meters behind him. Perfect. He relaxed; he removed the safety of the machinegun mounted grenade launcher, he aimed at the center of the reticule into the Jackal in the center of the trio. Sweat poured from his forehead, he placed his finger on the trigger and prepared to pull it. He did not do it, a column of Grunts moved around the corner and into the street; they stuck to the wall on the right side. The barrel of a sniper rifle slowly moved around the corner, he expected a Jackal but instead he got the least he wanted to see, an Elite.
       He immediately took cover behind the large iron trashcan, he took a deep breath, and he cleaned the sweat of his forehead with his forearm. He was now outnumbered and outgunned. He activated his muzzle camera, even though it would be hard to fire this way it was better than to do it with your head exposed at an Elite with a sniper rifle; he slowly rotated his machinegun on the right side of the trash can, the Covenant squad was slowly advancing down the road, the was Elite giving orders behind the shields of the Jackals. He would have to take him out first, he slowly waited for the right moment, and once the reticule aligned with the shield of the Jackal in the center he pulled the trigger. The sixty mike mike Heavy Explosive Dual Purpose grenade traveled the thirty five meters in less than half of a second; the grenade struck the shield of the unaware Jackal. The explosion created a cloud of smoke that avoided him to see what happened; Everton turned his thermal imager on. He saw the Elite still standing using his arm to administrate pressure on a large wound on his chest. The Jackal on the center had vanished, the other two landed far away, it had been a good shot.
       The Elite barked something incredibly loud, the Grunts opened fire randomly down the street, a form of inaccurate suppressive fire. Everton had to finish the Elite of before falling back, he turned into a kneeling position, and he aimed through the advanced sight straight into the Elite chest. The Elite was staring straight at him, they both fired at the same time. Everton did not let go of the trigger until the gun automatically stopped firing, the Elite whose shield was down immediately collapsed and landed on a pool of his own blood.
       Everton smiled, he knelt back into cover, he slowly lowered his body, with no warning he collapsed on the street. He started to breath uncontrollably, he started to check him self for wounds, he found no sings of damage in his armor, he moved his hand to remove the HMD, he saw his hand covered in blood.
       He raised his head and saw two holes on the iron trash dump, he looked at his abdomen, a small hole that hard was to see was on his right part of his stomach, and it was a clean wound. The beam went straight in and out, he was lucky to be alive.
       He turned around until he was upside down, he crawled to his fall back point. The Grunts panicked at the lost of their leader, they covered with their retreat with barks and screams of panic, Everton didn't even turned around, there was no need, he had to get to the fall back point before the next waves of enemy showed up.
       He got behind the car crash, pulled on and ornament on the hood of one car to knelt, witch he did. Everton aimed his machinegun down the street, scanning with his sight.
       He saw how the characteristic fuel road gun of a hunter popped from the corner, he immediately threw him self on the ground. The beast threw a dozen plasma beams in every direction, parts of building collapsed, bricks flew over the street, debris filled the air, which was what these huge Behemoths did in every encounter with the UNSC, and they destroyed and killed everything on their paths.
       Everton popped his head over the car; two hunters were slowly advancing down the street, flowed by a Company of Covenant creatures. Right behind the large Hunters a Golden Elite walked in the typical position of battle, contracted with both arms forward, a massive energy sword in his right arm. Everton would do a last thing for the UNSC, he would kill an enemy leader and get the dead of a true Helljumper, if he was today to die, he would bring as many shitheads as he could with him. He centered the sight on the Elite, he placed his finger on the trigger, he smiled before pulling it, and it was a good feeling to know that you will kill an enemy leader, he pulled the trigger.

       Click.

       The battle stress, the wounds, the tiredness, the excitement took the toll in the worst situation. He forgot to load the launcher. Through the sight he saw how the Elite's mandibles contracted in the form of a smile, Everton was screwed.
       Everton was thrown away by the shockwave of the first detonation. A series of explosions followed the shockwave, he landed on his back, the only thing he could do was to stare at the sky, and ironically there was no sky to be seen, only a cloud of dust.
       He could only hear the loud explosions and the hissing wind through his ears The seconds passed, though they felt like hours, Everton didn't mind, he knew there was nothing he could do, only to wait and see.

       He didn't know how much time he had been asleep when he woke up, the cloud of dirt was still in the air, reducing visibility to five meters. His machinegun was missing, the sling was cut and the gun had flown away, he did not saw it around him, he pulled his side arm from the holster and aimed forward, he walked again until he was behind the cover of the last remaining car, the other two were nothing more that a burning skeleton.
       The quiet was the worst thing, he did not know what to expect, he pressed the button on his helmet to activate the thermal, and it was broke. He heard footsteps, he aimed forward A Jackal covering him self with his shield walked directly into him, and he killed it with a round of .450.

       "Who the fuck is shooting!" screamed a voice.
       "Not us ell-tee," screamed another voice behind him, "is coming from the street!"
       "Oh, he's alive!" screamed the voice of the Lieutenant, "we are from Alpha from Third Marines, and we are coming out!"
       A Marine appeared out of the cloud of smoke, the first Everton did was to read the name tag, BRADLEY.
       "Its ok trooper, you are with us now."

The assault on Lyon, Infiltration.
Date: 4 April 2005, 10:52 AM

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

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

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

Outskirts of Lyon
Staging Area Romeo
Tactical Command Vehicle

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

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

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


       Phase Line Liberty reached, said his computer.

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


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

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

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

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

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

       "Target!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

       Nothing did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fifteen minutes later.

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

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

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

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

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

       The unavoidable voice of a Jackal made his freeze.

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

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

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

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