Staff Sergeant Lipton ducked under the burning Warthog. Plasma fired flashed past his head and stitched a line past his foot. They're getting closer. The telltale whine of a Banshee flier sounded overhead. Crap. Now they have air support.

A green private crawled over to his position. "Sir, we are running low on ammunition. If we don't evac, we'll be..."

A solid beam of energy tore through his chest and buried itself in Lipton's knee. Pain stabbed up his leg as the beam cracked his femur. Cauterized blood sprayed across his face from the private's wound.

Lipton dragged the man behind the Warthog and searched for the corpsman. "Medic! I need a medic up front!"

Corporals Young and Xyman rose as one and poured suppressive fire into the advancing Covenant forces. A trio of well-placed rounds brought down an Elite and two Grunts before the aliens ducked under cover. As they continued providing cover, Private Isaacs dashed out from between the barricades. He dove behind the Warthog a split second before a barrage of plasma battered the wrecked 4x4. Lipton leaned the injured man against the Warthog and ripped open his shirt.

Corpsman Isaacs rifled through his kit and produced a fist-sized container of self-sealing biofoam. The private gasped as the foam slid into the wound. A rough bandage completed the hasty dressing. Isaacs tapped the man's helmet twice and picked up his SMG.

"You're good, soldier. Another inch higher and you'd have been a goner."

The private wheezed as he replaced his helmet. "Thank you, sir! I'm fine now…"

A quartet of plasma beams struck the Warthog. One penetrated the vehicle and pierced the man's battle-suit. Flames erupted as his oxygen tank ruptured under the intense heat. He sprawled forward and grabbed wildly at his pack. Lipton lunged forward and heaved him back under the Warthog. The private slumped limply alongside the windshield. Lipton rolled the man over and checked his pulse. After a moment he grimaced and collected the man's dog tags.

"Isaacs, follow me. We're pulling back to that bunker." He indicated an old bunker dug into the hill-side. "From there we'll try to hold out. Ready, go!"

Lipton hurled a fragmentation grenade over the Warthog and waited. A muffled thud greeted his ears and he charged back towards the bunker. All along the line NCOs noted his move and began issuing orders to retreat. The ODSTs fell back in good order, maintaining a strong covering fire to mask their retreat.

Lipton and Isaacs passed the barricade where Young and Xyman were positioned. A smoking corpse welcomed them as they hurtled the barrier. Young moaned softly when he saw them. His broken M5B lay across his chest, shattered by a metal splinter. Blood flowed freely from his left arm.

Lipton and Isaacs stooped down and lifted Young off of the ground. Together they carried his body back to the main lines. They were half-way to the bunked when a Banshee spotted them in the open. The Covenant flier swooped down on them with its cannons spitting plasma fire willy-nilly. Isaacs hefted Young over his shoulder and quickened his pace. He shouted over his shoulder at Lipton as he hurried off.

"Take out that flier, Sarge. I've got Young."

Lipton acknowledged Isaacs and steadied his rifle. His scope clicked satisfactorily as he grimly zeroed in on his prey. No one in his battalion was as good a shot as he was with the battle rifle. Plasma splashed all around him as he patiently took aim. The Banshee approached head on, like a battering ram. It must be a blue, He thought.

When the Banshee entered within maximum range he squeezed the trigger. A trio of rounds spattered against the Banshee's left fuselage pod. Sparks flashed as the rounds scraped the flier. The next burst dented the casing, causing more sparks to erupt. His third burst penetrated the pod and set off the fuel. The Banshee disappeared in a bright ball of blue fire.

Lipton turned his back on the wreckage and surveyed the field for a moment. Isaacs had crossed three-quarters of the field with Young slung across his back. Two Helljumpers broke away from the protection of the slit trenches to ease his burden. They reached Isaacs and hefted the man between them. Lipton saw them wave Isaacs off and he started off after them.

As the Helljumpers entered the trench, a rouge plasma grenade fell from a passing Banshee. The grenade sank into the ditch and exploded, enveloping the men in flame. Wooden splinters flew in all directions as the trench disintegrated. Isaacs rolled out of the trench minus his helmet and submachine gun.

Lipton swore and dodged flying debris. He scurried to the trench and pulled Isaacs in after him. A quick assessment revealed that his Corporal had several broken bones. Isaacs screamed in pain as Lipton picked him up over his shoulder. The Sergeant raced through the tunnel network as plasma fire peppered his former position.

Dozens of Marines clustered around him as he finally entered the bunker. Willing hands lifted Isaacs off his back and onto a cleared table. A Medic appeared by his side and set to work cleaning his wounds. Soon Lipton stood forgotten in the bunker as men frantically ran from place to place. He spotted a stack of empty crates and lay down beside them. The frenzied chaos of the battlefield dimmed to a dull buzz as Lipton shut his eyes. A sense of calm came over him as he tried to catch up on his sleep that had been so long denied him.

Then the Wraith shells screeched down on the bunker like avenging demons.