His motion sensor pinged two contacts and he waved the ODSTs to a halt. He crouched behind a clump of brush at the top of the cliff path, conscious of the massive drop on the other side. A pair of Jackals rounded the bend ahead, their overcharged plasma pistols pulsing green, and paid dearly for their enthusiasm.
The Spartan sprang from his cover and slammed the butt of his rifle into the nearest Jackal’s shield. The energy field flared and died, and the force of the blow sent the alien tumbling off the path. The alien screamed and plummeted off the cliff.
The Chief pivoted and fired his rifle from the hip. The burst struck the second alien in the side. The Jackal slammed to the ground as his finger tightened on his weapon’s trigger as he died. A massive hole blossomed in the rock above the Master Chief’s head.
He slammed a fresh magazine into his weapon, and continued to advance.
“Here’s a little something to remember me by,” one of the Marines growled, and shot each Jackal in the head.
As the team continued up the path, they encountered another Shade, more Grunts, and a pair of Jackals, all of whom seemed to melt away under the combined assault by the Master Chief’s sniper rifle, the Marine’s assault weapons, and a few well-placed grenades.
The rescue force pressed on, toward the lights beyond. Covenant resistance was determined but spotty, and before long the Master Chief could hear the thrumming sound of the alien ship as it hovered more than a hundred meters above them. His skin crackled with static electricity. In the center of a steep dip in the rock lay a large metal disk, the gravity lift that the Covenant used to move troops, supplies, and vehicles to and from the ring world’s surface. Purple light shimmered around the platform where the beam was anchored.
“Come on!” the Master Chief shouted, pointing at the lift. “That’s our way in. Let’s move!”
There was a mad dash through a narrow canyon followed by a pitched battle as the Master Chief and the Helljumpers entered the area directly below the ship.
The depression was ringed with Shades, and all of them opened fire at once. The Chief made use of the sniper rifle to kill the nearest gunner, charged up the intervening slope, and jumped into the now vacant seat. The first order of business was to silence the other guns.
He yanked the control yoke to the left and the gun swiveled to face a second Shade, across the defile. A glowing image of a hollow triangle floated in front of his face. When it lined up with the other gun, it flashed red. He thumbed the firing studs, and lances of purple-white energy lashed the enemy emplacement. The Grunt gunner struggled to leap free of his Shade, fell into the path of the Spartan’s fire, and was speared by a powerful blast. He slumped against the base of his abandoned Shade, a smoking hole burned through his chest.
The Master Chief swiveled the captured gun and took aim on the remaining Shades. He hosed the targets with a hellish wave of destructive energy, then, satisfied that the emplacements were silenced, went to work on the enemy ground troops.
He had just burned a pair of Jackals to the ground when Cortana announced that a Covenant dropship was inbound, and the Master Chief was forced to shift his fire to the alien aircraft and the troops that spilled out onto the ground.
The human walked the blue Shade fire across the aliens, cutting them down, and pounding what remained into mush. He was still at it when a Marine yelled, “Look at that! There’s more of them!” and a dozen figures floated down through the gravity lift. A pair of the newcomers were huge and wore steel-blue armor as well as handheld plate-armor shields.
The Chief had faced such creatures before, not long before Reach fell. Covenant Hunters were tough, dangerous foes – practically walking tanks. They were slow and appeared clumsy, but the cannons mounted on their arms were equivalent to the heavy weapons a Banshee carried, and they could leap into motion with startling suddenness. Their metal shields could withstand a tremendous amount of punishment. Worse, they would never stop until the enemy lay dead at their feet... or they were dead themselves.
The Helljumpers opened fire, grenades exploded, and the pair of Hunters roared defiance. One of them lifted his right arm and fired his weapon, a fuel rod gun. One of the ODSTs screamed and fell, his flesh melting. The Marine’s rocket fired into the air, slid into the grav lift beam, and detonated harmlessly.
The Hunters lumbered from the grav lift and strode up the edge of the pit. Behind them, a swarm of Jackals and Elites formed a rough phalanx and peppered the human positions with plasma fire.
Sergeant Parker yelled, “Hit ’em, Helljumpers!” and the ODSTs poured fire onto the massive alien juggernauts. Bullets pinged from their armor and whined through the rocks.
The Spartan swiveled around, and heard a warning tone as a Hunter’s weapon discharged. Burning energy smashed into him. The Shade shook under the force of the incoming fire as the Master Chief clenched his jaw and forced himself to bring the targeting reticle down onto the target. His shield bled energy and began to shriek a shrill alarm.
The instant the targeting display pulsed red, he mashed down the firing studs and unleashed a flood of incandescent blue light. The Hunter didn’t have time to bring its shield fully into play, and plasma blasts burned through multiple layers of armor, and exited through his spine.
The Spartan heard a cry of what sounded like anguish as the second alien saw his bond brother fall. The Hunter spun and fired his fuel rod gun at the Master Chief’s captured emplacement. The Shade took a direct hit, flipped over onto its side, and threw him to the ground.
The ground vibrated as the enraged alien charged up the slope, right for the downed Spartan. The Chief rolled to his right and came up in a low crouch. The alien was close now, within five meters. A row of razor-sharp spines sprang up along the Hunter’s back. With his shields depleted, the Chief knew that those spines could cut him in two.
He dropped to one knee and unslung his assault rifle. Bullets bounced harmlessly from the alien’s armor. At the last second, he dodged left and slid down the slope. The Hunter didn’t anticipate the move, and the razor-spines passed over the Spartan’s head, missing him by mere inches.
The Chief rolled onto his belly – and saw his opportunity. A patch of orange, leathery skin was visible along the Hunter’s curved spine. He emptied the MA5B’s magazine into the unprotected target, and thick orange blood gouted from a cluster of bullet wounds. The Hunter gave a low, keening wail, then collapsed in a puddle of his own gore.
He rose to one knee, fed a fresh magazine into the assault rifle, and scanned the area for enemies. “All clear,” he called out.
The remaining ODSTs called in all clears as well. That opened the way to the lift and Cortana was quick to seize on the opportunity. She activated the armor’s communication system. “Cortana to Echo 419. We made it to the gravity lift – and are ready for reinforcements.”
“Copy that, Cortana... Echo 419 inbound. Clear the drop zone.”
“What’s the matter?” Sergeant Parker demanded of his troops, several of whom were looking longingly at the fast-approaching Pelican’s running strobes. “Never seen a UNSC dropship before? Keep your eyes on the rocks, damn it – that’s where the bastards will come from.”
The Spartan waited for Echo 419 to unload the fresh Marines, waved them forward, and joined the surviving Helljumpers on the lift pad. “Looks like we made it,” a private said, just before an invisible hand reached down to pluck him off the surface.
Sergeant Parker looked up toward the belly of the ship, and said, “Aren’t we the lucky ones?” then rose as if suspended from a rope.
“Once we’re in the ship I can home in on the Captain’s Command Neural Interface,” Cortana said. “The CNI will lead us to him. He’ll probably be in or near the ship’s brig.”