Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Corporal Abuylallah Mahmoud

Cienna, Aldara Plains

"We have your coordinates, friendly aircraft en route to provide support.” Mahmoud’s radio squawked.

Mahmoud, donned in the signature M62 armor suit of the ODSTs, leapt over a large pile of rocks with ease, his powered armor making the five foot jump effortless. He had just designated a Republic artillery position for immediate destruction.

Mahmoud ran up the forward face of a rocky dune. He had only been an ODST for three years after enlisting in the Marines in 2551. The largest battle he had fought in had been an operation against the remnants of the Covenant.

Mahmoud checked his surroundings in VISR mode for any contacts the motion tracker might not have picked up. He kept his MA6 shouldered as he swept the top of the slope.

The whine of Republic plasma weapons and the staccato of gunfire echoed all around him and the roar of the overall battle reverberated through the shallow canyon Mahmoud found himself in.

Mahmoud heard multiple booms not far off from him, indicative of a missile strike.

“Targets neutralized.” The F-99 Wombat UCAV radio controller reported.

"Thanks for the assist.” Mahmoud replied.

Mahmoud had launched from the Warhound just 10 minutes ago, along with nearly all of the fleet's complement of ODSTs (around 2,000) to cut off the Republic's ground forces from their retreat. This maneuver was only partially successful, roughly half of the Republic forces had made it to their landing site, so the ODSTs were tasked with taking on a precarious situation. They both had to put the squeeze on the encircled forces to keep them from breaking out, and keep the other Republic units from breaking in.

The encirclement had been swiftly established in mere minutes after the first SOEIV pods hit terra firma, supported by the ever increasing amount of air power flying in.

Mahmoud and his squad had been in the second wave of pods to hit the dirt. They had the job of widening the distance between the separated Republic forces and fortifying their positions. The ODSTs weren’t deployed with much heavy equipment, meaning the Republic could roll over them with tanks if they were supported by AA.

The pods had come under heavy fire from enemy anti-aircraft batteries, which was what had blown him off course, just enough to throw him a mile away from his platoon's LZ. Luckily he had managed to get a hold of them on his radio, but due to his proximity to the enemy positions and being on his lonesome, he decided to only remain in contact for less than a minute.

It was long enough for the 26 year old to know where to link up with his squad, and also enough for him to know that he had to fight his way through several Republic positions.

The enemy was very close. The drones had identified several positions and updated them onto his TACMAP through the battlenet.

Nearing the top of the ridge, he got down and crawled up to the top of the rocky formation.

With his MA6 in hand, Mahmoud peaked over the ridge and had his suspicions confirmed.

A group of some twenty Clone troopers, their white armor pitted and stained with dirt, were frantically digging positions into the earth as another four carried a heavy blaster cannon into position and began to assemble it.

Mahmoud cursed and ducked back down as he flicked on his radio and broadcasted to his squad.

"Charlie 1 this is Charlie 4. Are you reading me Gunny? Over."

The Radio crackled for a moment before his gunnery sergeant responded.

"Roger, Mahmoud we have you. We are half a click from your position. What is your status? Over."

"I am about to be knee deep in the shit. Over." He replied as he saw four of the troopers begin to make their way up the slope towards him, unaware of his presence.

Mahmoud began an extremely quick check on his weapons. He had his MA6 in his hands with its 300 rounds in 5 magazines, plus the 60 in his gun. He had three frags, an M6H pistol on his right leg, a 10 inch combat knife on the left side of his chestplate, and an M319 grenade launcher on his back alongside an M57 Pilum to top it all off. The Pilum wasn’t as powerful as a SPNKR, but it was a lot lighter.

It was standard practice for ODST squads to go into combat heavy laden, a feat made easy with their M62 armor. As an ODST, you couldn’t count on backup being there quickly, you were on your own.

"Shit... alright we’ll get there ASAP. Out."

The radio cut off as Mahmoud quickly steeled himself for the fight .

"Here we go." He muttered to himself as the contacts on his motion tracker came within 30 meters.

The ODST popped up from hiding directly ahead of the climbing troopers with his assault rifle raised.

The Clones were clearly surprised, stopping for half a second before attempting to raise their blaster carbines. The ODST stared down the troopers donned in white washed armor.

"Hello there." Mahmoud called out, humor helped to relieve stress in combat for Mahmoud.

The MA6 let loose a sharp and fast staccato of fire while the enemy combatants finally dove for the dirt with their weapons trained on him.

However, with the element of surprise, the ODST was sure to prevail.

The Clones could never have hoped to act fast enough as the ODST swept his sights over them, sending 16 7.62mm FMJ rounds slamming into them at over 2 kilometers a second.

The fastest of the Clones was only hit in the left shoulder pauldron twice, spinning him around. Luckily for him, his armor had done its job, his shoulder was only dislocated rather than being left a bleeding mess.

His other three compatriots were not so lucky.

They took the rounds head on, and as such they were punctured with fist size holes in their white plastoid armor as their limp bodies crashed to the ground, dead.

Mahmoud wasted no time in finishing the first Clone off as another Clone who was further away raised his blaster and sent a burst of plasma at him.

The three plasma bolts the Republic weapon sent at him went high and to the right, Mahmoud nevertheless dove down away from the bolts.

Now the element of surprise was long gone. The other troopers, now aware of his presence, began to return fire with dozens of blaster bolts. Two of them struck his M62's powerful personal shields, draining them by a tenth as he ducked back into cover.

The whine of bolts hitting the top of the ridge almost matched the pace of his heart as he pulled out his grenade launcher and relocated to a new position while loading a high explosive grenade.

Mahmoud couldn't help but notice the unfortunate placement of the Republic defenses.

The placement of their positions on the reverse slope of a ridge was a smart decision to cover the retreat of a collapsing frontline, but the absence of defenses on their flanks (which, to their credit, were probably meant to be set up after Mahmoud had interrupted their work) meant that he could come at them from the sides and catch them in an enfilade.

He stole a quick glance at the enemy and picked out his target, a recently dug foxhole with three Clones in it still aiming at his previous position and another scanning the ridgeline.

Mahmoud didn’t waste a second, he popped up, used the holographic sights on the launcher in conjunction with those on his HUD linked to the weapon, and fired.

The 40mm grenade launcher emitted a deep thump, flying straight and true to instantly kill the troopers in a gruesome display.

That still left some 18 troopers who all fired at him at once, immediately forcing him back into cover in a lethal game of cat and mouse that even the ODST couldn't win.

He began to lob his grenades over the crest of the hill one at a time until he only had one frag and plasma grenade each.

The grenades were not aimed, but they made the Clones stay in cover and gave Mahmoud time to withdraw to a position further down the ridge to call in his squad.

"This is Charlie Four I am heavily engaged, repeat heavily..."

He didn't get to finish what he was saying. What he was trying to keep from happening, happened.

Nine of the Clones advanced, firing as they went. They had advanced and found him far faster than he had expected.

Multiple bolts hit him, forcing him to backpedal as his shields dropped to 70 percent.

"Dammit!" He cursed. His only option was to try and get to whatever cover he could find and try to hold them all off. He could manage that for a while, but they would only keep coming and eventually overwhelm him in his static position, or he could try to get to the next smaller ridge some 50 yards behind him. The second option was becoming increasingly impossible as more and more red dots on his motion tracker began to close in on him.

Mahmoud assumed a firing position and returned fire, catching the first Clone to scale the ridge with a burst to the face and neck, sending the Clone flying back in a bloody spray as the next three fired on him.

Mahmoud stood his ground and held down the trigger. His MA6 roared and flame leapt from the barrel.

Slugs and burning hot plasma flew past each other as they both almost instantly hit their marks. Two more Clones collapsed as the ODST kept up his fire.

But the Clones hit back as well.

Mahmoud tried to hug his cover just as his shields collapsed. The right side of his chest suddenly warmed up as he was slammed with two consecutive blaster bolts to his chest plate, spinning him around as he hit the deck. His weapon was shot from his hands as he rolled onto his back

The remaining troopers, their armor dented and flaking from hits that didn't penetrate, staggered for a second before immediately turning their weapons towards him, one of them running headlong into his position.

The ODST rolled to his knees and began to reach for his M6H, as much good as it would do against five Clones.

Mahmoud's mind raced as he tried to find a way out, which he knew he couldn't.

Just then, what sounded like world ending cracks resounded through the air, and Mahmoud just so happened to be looking in the right place to see what it was.

The four trailing Clones’ torsos and upper bodies disintegrated into a cloud of meat, blood, bone, white armor, and blaster parts. The largest chunk was the top part of a Trooper's helmet while the rest of their few remaining parts littered the ground.

The Clone charging towards him, now only several feet away, stopped in surprise, while Mahmoud gazed at the source of the carnage.

It was his squad.

They were crossing over the top of the ridge behind him now, but one of his teammates was ahead of them, already in a firing position with a bulky weapon.

Mahmoud couldn't help but blink in shock.

That was the first time in his career that he had seen an M936 SAW fire in combat. The M936 SAW was a part of the same generation of weapons as the MA6, utilizing electromagnetic propulsion to shoot out metal slugs at very high speeds. When those slugs meet flesh and armor, the results are devastating.

‘Meat Grinder certainly fits.’ He thought to himself as he rolled to his feet to face the last Clone, who snapped out of shock and raised his weapon.

Mahmoud slammed into the Clone with a blow that a pro boxer would have a tough time imitating without armor. His skills learned through the basic Marine Martial Arts school and ODST Advanced Melee Course, along with his slightly augmented physical build, allowed him to perform the action.

The augmentations, when compared to the superhuman and extremely invasive procedures of the Spartans were minute, and were actually only a series of three injections after basic training, accompanied by a week of staying in a medical ward to make sure everything went smoothly. Augmentations had been given since the start of the 24th century and had laid the groundwork for the Orion Project, and eventually the Spartans. The augmentations gave each Marine increased muscle density, healthier and stronger bones, 20/15 vision , and a minute increase in reaction time.

On top of that he was donned in his M62 armor, which greatly increased his strength.

The Clone flew to the ground, stunned by the power of the blow, yet he quickly rolled to his feet before Mahmoud could deliver a life ending trigger pull.

The Clone leapt up into a fighting stance and produced a blade from his belt and immediately took a quick slash at the ODST.

However, Mahmoud was far too quick and blocked the strike with his left arm, delivering a sweeping kick with his right leg with a twist of his hip, putting the Clone back on the ground.

Before the Clone could get up and before Mahmoud could end it with his magnum, the Clone’s head exploded from three shots delivered by the approaching ODSTs.

"You sure find a way to get yourself up the deepest shit creeks don't ya?" The leading ODST amusingly stated as Mahmoud went to pick up his assault rifle. It was his gunnery sergeant, Daniel Wallace, donned in his M62 armor with a white skull painted over the visor.

"I had it under control, and besides, I had dibs on that one." He quipped as the rest of the ODSTs, all fanned out with expert coordination and set themselves up on the ridge that Mahmoud had previously visited.

After the squad medic popped his shoulder back into place, Mahmoud and his squad spaced themselves apart along the ridge and assumed a prone position.

By now, the dozen or so Clones were well prepared and alert to danger.

Sergeant Wallace stuck his head up to see their positions before shooting back down, having taken immediate fire.

"I count ten of them spread out in foxholes and one heavy weapon." Wallace stated as he popped out of cover to deliver a quick burst from his weapon, an MA6 with an underslung 40mm grenade launcher. Though a more compact configuration for a grenade launcher than Mahmoud’s M319, it suffered from decreased range. On the left side of Wallace’s already modified MA6 was a titanium bayonet mounted in between the barrel and the grenade launcher.

Most Marines carried them, they came in handy against the Covenant Grunts in demoralizing the cowardly enemies when engaging in a bayonet charge, usually breaking their ranks. Mahmoud knew some ODSTs who swore by them and who mounted theirs the first chance they got after dismounting their SOEIVs.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Ducking down, Wallace produced an incendiary grenade shell, the payload made up of triethylaluminum in conjunction with a few other chemicals that escaped Mahmoud’s memory. Those particular shells had received a deadly reputation from their combat performance against insurrectionists. They could turn a grenadier into a Hellbringer and made clearing houses an easy task.

“Mahmoud!” Wallace shouted, tossing the shell towards him. “Take out that gun emplacement!”

Mahmoud loaded his grenade launcher, lined up an oblique shot, and fired. The incendiary projectile arced through the air and landed atop the gun emplacement, slathering the fighting position in flame and torching its occupants.

The other ODSTs fired quick bursts from their weapons. Other than their standard MA6 rifles, there was also an M7/10 SMG carried by the squad's designated marksman as a secondary to his M100 Stanchion II, and two M936 SAWs.

Wallace turned to an ODST in the squad armed with a SPNKR. "Do you have any telemetry data?"

The man nodded with a slight chuckle as he equipped his devastating launcher and pressed a couple of buttons on the side of the weapon, which linked it up to the local UNSC battlenet. The data which recorded the positions of the enemy from the ODST helmets and VISR systems were uploaded to the battlenet and were relayed to the fire control systems of the launcher.

The ODST raised the weapon and aimed it into the air.

Mahmoud shook his head as he knew what was about to happen. This, he had seen before.

The rocket shot out of the launcher, and about 150 meters into the air it broke off with seven thumps into seven 40mm smart munitions with spring-loaded maneuvering fins, flying at a lower velocity.

They swiftly came straight back down onto their selected targets and seven near simultaneous explosions erupted.

"Move up," Wallace called out the order accompanied by a single motion. The ODSTs all jumped up and advanced down the reverse slope ready to finish off anything that opposed them.

There were only a handful of Clones left, who were quickly eliminated in a quick storm of accurate projectile fire, their few hastily fired shots of plasma avoided or wildly off target.

As the ODSTs moved through the Clones’ previous positions two of the Clones who were wounded from the SPNKR’s cluster munitions began to crawl out of their burnt out foxhole. Their armor was almost completely scorched and one of them was missing their left arm.

Before Mahmoud could take in the sight, Wallace casually tossed an incendiary grenade onto them, smothering them in a white hot jet of fire and burning them in under a second as their armor instantly melted and their bodies withered before laying still and smoldering like logs on a fire.

Mahmoud and the other ODSTs moved on, undisturbed by the telltale smell of their helmet filters working overtime to purge the odor of burning flesh that was quickly filling the air.

The ODSTs moved up to the top of the next ridge to reorganize in a new position and observed the ongoing battle a mile away with their helmet's built-in magnification function.

The Republic's air cover was almost nonexistent now. The distant flash of the mighty weapons of either side erupted and the following explosions could be felt in the ground. The rising dust of moving vehicles racing towards each other firing their weapons with earth shattering cracks covered the battlefield as far as the eye could see. Explosions of anti air rounds puffed in the sky like someone activating a lightswitch, tracers flew like laser beams through the air. The black specks and faint outlines of UNSC aircraft shot overhead, weaving through the Republic’s air defenses and attacking the Republic positions in fantastic displays of explosive and kinetic power.

"Second Squad is coming up." The designated marksman stated, his Stanchion II at the ready. Mahmoud had witnessed a Stanchion II rip an elite in half from 2 miles away. That rifle was no pushover, even in the hands of a mediocre rifleman. He saw twelve blue friendlies appear on his sensors to his right 50 meters away.

Looking in their direction, Mahmoud could see the black figures loaded down with weapons run towards them.

"Nice of you to join us." Wallace called out to the leader of the other squad, Edward Fitzgerald.

"Yeah we had to deal with a chicken walker and a squad of their ‘elite’ reconnaissance troopers, they were better than these guys, that’s for sure, but nothing we couldn't handle.'' The man chided as he hefted his weapon, a SAW with a 400 round double drum mag and belts of ammo slung over his armor Pancho Villa style.

Suddenly one of the members of Mahmoud’s squad, the designated marksman, called out from his prone position ten yards away. "We have contacts! At least two platoons of Clones plus armor. I count 5 light hovertanks, three AT-STs and two dropships, coming in from the north. Enemy armor one klick out. Dropships at low altitude, 2 klicks away and closing fast!"

"Shit! Do we still have any drone coverage or reinforcements heading our way?" Wallace asked as he and the ODSTs quickly manned defensive positions on the top of the small embankment.

"Last I heard, 89th Armored was sending some of their Scorpions and Cougars to link up with our battalion, they’ll be here in five mikes. Until then, we’re on our own." Fitzgerald replied as the other ODSTs all nodded in unison.

Mahmoud and the others did not care. In fact, he was itching to fight in heavy combat for once, especially after growing up during the Covenant War and seeing the heroic sacrifices that the military men and women had made in the defense of humanity. Now he would get to do the same, and he knew that the members of his squad that were not veterans were feeling the same.

"The LAATs are in range, permission to take them out?" An M41 SPNKR equipped ODST asked. His gauntleted finger seemed to twitch on the trigger of the powerful rocket launcher.

"Let our marksmen take the first shots, and then you can take out those LAATs and move on to the vehicles. I want you men with the Pilums and you with the Spartan Laser to take up concealed positions and hit their armor in tandem." Wallace ordered.

The ODSTs sprang into action and assumed their positions in under 2 seconds. Mahmoud found his cover in a rock formation which neatly concealed his rocket launcher in a ready position. All he would have to do is spring up into a standing position and let loose.

Mahmoud held his breath before a sharp, deep crack met his ears from the marksmen’s positions.

Downrange, half a mile away, one of the lead enemy combatants jogging along with the rest of the troopers behind their armored vehicles suddenly disintegrated from the torso up as a tungsten dart traveling at nearly Mach 50 passed through him, courtesy of a Stanchion Gauss Rifle.

As the Clones dove for what cover they could find, another one was struck in the left leg, ripping it clean off just as a Jackhammer missile streaked forward on a plume of fire and slammed into the cockpit of an LAAT before it could evade, swatting it out of the sky in a ball of fire.

The Republic troopers all began to advance forward behind the cover of the AT-STs which began to fire with their twin cannons, sending a barrage of super hot plasma bolts in the general direction of the ODSTs, their position not yet pinpointed, in suppressive fire. The blasts still landed too close for comfort for Mahmoud as he could feel the impacts rattle in his chest. The shower of dirt made a fountain burst forth from the landscape with each blast.

"Enemy armor advancing! I need AT yesterday, dammit!" Wallace called out with irritation.

That was Mahmoud’s cue. He and the other 3 ODSTs armed with Pilums sprung up and let their rockets loose.

Their rockets shot forth and their targets. The lead hovertank took a round in the front, causing it to careen into the ground and violently flip over from the 50mm shaped charge missile. The rockets of Mahmoud and another ODST met their mark and scrapped two more tanks, however the 4th rocket in total barely missed, this particular hovertank either had a very skilled, or a very lucky crew.

3 more M19 rockets fired from Jackhammers flew into the air, the other LAAT helpless to dodge all three at this angle and altitude. 2 of them hit, sending the dropship to the ground in an unceremonious crash.

Mahmoud quickly shouldered his launcher and tried to find a target that the other ODSTs hadn’t yet marked for destruction.

The fire was becoming much more intense as the roar of the ODSTs’ weapons reached a fever pitch. They had already taken down fifteen Clones, who fired back in return, striking two of the Terrans, including Wallace. Mahmoud glanced at Wallace, who had fallen back to cover with his shields dropped and a scorch mark fresh on his armor.

"Stop staring and keep firing on those fucking tanks!" Wallace cursed.

Without so much as a nod, Mahmoud obeyed the command. He found a nice target, he sighted his Pilum on the leg joint of one of the AT-STs and waited the agonizingly long milliseconds for the weapon to lock on as calmly as he could in spite of the fire slamming into the ground around sending up clouds of dirt.

He depressed the trigger and let a 50mm rocket loose.

Mahmoud didn't have time to watch his work as he jumped back down out of the wall of fire, but the rocket flew straight and true as the chicken-like AT-ST could do nothing to evade, its weak knee joint blew apart and the machine toppled over with a loud crash and a cloud of dust.

The remaining TX-130's, now some 200 yards away, opened fire with their beam laser turrets, which swept across the ODSTs’ position, scorching the earth and forcing them to dive back into cover.

"We have to move. Second Squad! Provide covering fire for Squad One to relocate!" Wallace roared as Lance, the ODST with a Spartan Laser, managed to get a beam off.

It burnt a hole clean through the left side armor on one of the AT-STs before a flurry of blaster fire put him down. The armor on his chest sizzled as he screamed in pain. Two ODSTs rushed to his aid, administering biofoam to the man and lifting him up with a groan coming from the man. He clutched his side as he came to and moved the men away before stumbling back to his position and retrieving his weapon.

‘Stubborn bastard.’ Mahmoud thought.

Lance returned to his position after a medic came up and injected him with something to ease the pain. Lance was lucky he hadn’t had a hole burnt through his chest. His armor had soaked up most of the heat, at worst he got a third degree burn.

As the explosions kept approaching, Mahnoud swallowed his fear as the members of his team burst from cover, firing as they went.

Mahmoud pushed his legs as fast as they could go and sprinted from his last position as blaster bolts sailed around him and hit his shields, draining them as he fired back on the move, managing a glancing blow on a Clone 60 yards away in the helmet.

One of his squadmates spun around from three direct blaster hits before stumbling into cover.

Mahmoud hit the dirt with a vulgarity escaping his mouth as his shields failed.

The second squad kept up a storm of fire to keep the advancing Clones engaged, sending another fighter tank to its doom before a twin blast from one of the AT-STs lashed out at their position.

Mahmoud cringed as he saw the vitals of a SPNKR armed ODST wink off his hud. He quickly discarded the death from his mind and laid down some fire, taking out 2 clones as the offending AT-ST was quickly dealt a quick death via a 102mm missile.

The ODSTs kept up the high tempo of fire and the Clone Troopers were only obliged to return it in kind.

The Republic forces were making a contested but steady advance behind the support of the remaining AT-ST and TX-130, though ten more clones were quickly gunned down while a marksman took out another Clone setting up a heavy weapon before plasma forced him back into cover.

The marksmen next to Mahmoud sent a trio of hypersonic tungsten slugs through an enemy a scant 40 yards away before the Clones nearest to their fallen comrade sent a stream of blaster fire into the man before he could get down into cover.

The man’s shields were overloaded and his armor was overwhelmed with no less than 12 direct hits.

The ODST fell dead beside Mahmoud. Mahmoud opened fire, his MA6 spat flame and shot out hypersonic slugs in return, taking one of the assailants down as the other dove back into cover only to be quickly felled by the squad's SAW.

The fighting between the two sides was fierce, and though the ODSTs had destroyed over half of the Republic force, they were fast being overrun as two more ODSTs were killed. The ODSTs made sure to make the Republic pay dearly for every yard advanced. The final hovertank was taken out by Mahmoud’s squad.

Two clones stormed Mahmoud's position, firing their blasters from the hip. Mahmoud’s charging shields were overloaded with only 4 blaster bolts, another bolt caught him in the left shoulder as he sought cover from the flurry of bolts.

Mahmoud’s heart was beating, causing his fingertips to pulsate. He had no time to properly aim. He thumbed the selector to auto and let loose a jet of fire with a frantic yelp just as the Clones neared ten yards. The MA6 made a mess of them. Their armor crumpled and fragmented, clouds of blood puffed out of their flesh and they both slumped to the ground.

"Move up!" Wallace roared while swiftly reloading, motioning to the squads. The ODSTs all advanced as one through the hail of fire as the last AT-ST was obliterated by a Jackhammer missile.

‘That’s the Helltrooper way. Crazy bastard’s a true Helljumper.’ Mahmoud grinned as he weaved in and out of fire, not even slowing down to fire his own weapon, simply doing it on the run as the others did the same. The counterattack by the outnumbered elite soldiers took the now vehicle-less Clones completely by surprise as they realized that they were being pushed back by only 15 heavily armed and armored combatants.

Leaping behind the flaming wreck of a TX-130 as his shields collapsed again, Mahmoud gunned down another unfortunate Clone with a burst to the abdomen. His squad’s SAW gunner and another rifleman joined him, the SAW spitting out a stream of shell casings as the muzzle flash leapt from its barrel.

The three of them kept up the fire with slugs from an MA6, a stream of rounds from the SAW, and 40mm grenades from Mahmoud's grenade launcher as they and the other ODSTs who were now in new positions pushed the Clones back.

"Those fuckers are pulling back!" A haggard sounding ODST exclaimed.

Having loaded in his second to magazine, Mahmoud peaked his helmeted head over the top of the hulk of the Republic fighter tank to see a sight that caught him by surprise.

The Clones who were behind their own cover were lifting their blaster rifles into the air over their heads and holding them with their hands on the barrel and rifle butt, slowly standing fully straight from their positions.

"Shit, they’re surrendering!" Another ODST exclaimed as Wallace came out of cover with his rifle aimed squarely at the head of the closest Clone some twenty meters away.

The other ODSTs all acknowledged and did the same, save the marksmen who all kept further away.

"We surrender!" The lead clone announced as the ODSTs came closer.

Mahmoud surmised he was a sergeant, from the kama and shoulder pauldron added to his armor with yellow stripes on the side, though he wasn’t sure. Those were standard markings for some of the units in this battle.

"Tell your men to drop all of their weapons and grenades, and to remove their helmets. Throw them on the ground and put your hands on your heads!” Wallace ordered. Mahmoud quickly guessed that the Gunny didn’t want them talking to each other over private comms.

The Clone took one look at his compatriots, some 20 to 30 of them now, some with grave injuries, and nodded.

"You heard them." The trooper sighed with indignation. His men complied, throwing their weapons and helmets on the ground and joining their leader with their hands on their heads.

Mahmoud and the others took in the strange sight of men with the exact same face.

"Disgusting." Mahmoud shook his head as the others scoffed in agreement.

The now former opponents stared at each other. Mahmoud figured it must’ve been strange for the clones to stare at the ODSTs and be met back with the ice cold glare of a polarized visor.

Mahmoud and the other ODSTs could not help but pick up a sense of pride and satisfaction as victory set in.

“You clones aren’t so tough up close.” One man said.

"Cut it marine!" Wallace snapped, casting a dirty look backwards as the ODST complied.

The ODSTs formed the Clones in a line just as their supposed back up, a meager yet nonetheless awe inspiring convoy composed of an Army Scorpion MBT and two Cougar AFVs with embarked squads of Army Infantrymen came rumbling over the ridge to join them. The ground seemed to shake from the tank as its treads crushed the ground beneath it. Its main cannon was pointed directly at the Clones. The act was totally unnecessary but it added to the intimidation factor of the relatively small UNSC force.

It worked, the Clones all warily looked at the war machine as the UNSC Army soldiers dismounted and joined them.

"I think we’ve got this handled." Wallace said sarcastically, saluting a lieutenant briefly.

The new arrivals chuckled. The lieutenant slung his older issue MA5C over the shoulder plate of his tan colored armor, marked with a grapefruit sized blaster burn on its chest plate.

“Party ain’t over yet, Helljumpers.” He chuckled as a flight of Sparrowhawks roared past overhead. “We have plenty of prisoners to process. Last I heard most of the pocket was surrendering, well what's left of it anyways."

The ODSTs all let out a sigh of relief before letting out a little jubilation.

"A far cry from a few decades ago, huh?" The lieutenant chuckled as the veteran Wallace turned to the assembled ODSTs.

"Let's get a move on with these POWs. It ain’t over just yet. Hopefully the fleet will finish kicking their asses in orbit."

Strategic Deployment Base Five

Boss and the Terran were locked in a struggle to get the other into a position where they would be able to finish the fight with a swift blow.

Boss was getting very tired, with the Terran not far behind in terms of fatigue.

His punches and slashes with his vibroblade were only getting slower and more sluggish.

The Terran grabbed Boss and pinned him against the wall, raising his knife.

Boss kicked the man off of him and backed off to gain a small respite. He was breathing heavily, sweat dripped down his brow despite his armor’s heat regulation. His leg had stopped bleeding because his armor automatically applied an internal tourniquet. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from passing out from pain.

The Terran beat upon his chestplate. “C’mon you bastard! Come at me!”

Boss grunted and ran at the ODST, who had held his knife out like a spear.

Boss blocked it with his shoulder and tackled the man down on the ground. He tried in vain to pin the Terran’s arm down before he could stab him.

The ODST brought the knife down and stabbed Boss in his injured leg.

“Argh!” Boss screamed. Boss stabbed the Terran in the shoulder between his armor plates.

“You son of a bitch!” The Terran cursed. Enraged, the Terran flipped Boss over and punched him over and over again with his uninjured arm.

Boss’s eyes started to blur from his own blood obscuring his vision. He lashed out in vain with his wrist mounted vibroblade, the Terran sluggishly avoiding the dazed man’s attacks.

Boss saw the hazy figure of the Terran raising up his knife for a killing blow. Boss closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

Suddenly, Boss heard the unmistakable sound of a blaster firing.

He opened his eyes to see the Terran still looming over him with a look of pure anger cemented onto his face. The formerly alive ODST soon slumped over to the floorplate, vapor coming out of the holes that were burnt through the side of his head.

As he came to his senses, Boss could hear the all too familiar voices of his fellow Clone brethren.

“Get on them, quickly! Their vitals are fading!”

An imposing figure stood above Boss and reached out his hand. Boss grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled himself up.

Boss cleared his vision by rubbing his eyes and blinking, looking at the Clone in red Phase 1 armor who had saved his life.

“ARC Captain Alpha-77 at your service, but you can call me Fordo.” He said before looking down. “I’ll get one of my men to tend your leg.” He motioned one of the other clones forward, who hastily began tending Boss.

“Thanks for the assist. You really saved my sheb.”

Fordo nodded. “I’ll have my men carry your squad out on stretchers. Can you walk?”

“With some bacta and something to kill the pain. My adrenaline’s wearing off.”

Fordo nodded again and called one of his troopers. “Get him some bacta and a stim-shot.”

“Status report?” Boss asked as an afterthought.

“We’re pulling out. Command has signaled the retreat.”

Boss said nothing and gave a slight grimace as he was laid onto a stretcher.

‘All that, for nothing.’ He thought.