You hear the clanking and shuffling of our titanium boots against the floor of our firebase... covered in elite and grunt blood and God knows what else. Yet another invisible elite squad trying to drive their way into our inner base had just ambushed us. As we walked in and looked at the tactical map, we saw why they had multiple columns of armor moving through routes that link to that road and are aiming at the inner bases with bad intentions. So, it looked like our rest would have to wait, because no sooner than we are out the door General Shepard lands and tells us that we just got our first assignment as a new prototype unit, the WOLF squad. Boy, this is going to be one helluva trip...

We are called up to the helo-bay to board the black hawk that we are taking to our new HQ. The 21-ton giant lands as the rotors sing in unison their trademark whooping. As the rubber of the tires meets the air pad, none other than the general himself greets us. "Mornin' boys what a helluva day you have in front of you," yells the general over the nullifying rotor wash "you’re going to get re-armed with your new prototype armor and weapons, and are going to be shock dropped behind enemy lines." Poor rookie, he is the only Spartan to speak up "what's 'shock dropped'?" The general has a chuckle with this and the rest of us laugh too, Shepard explains that shock dropped is a term that means that we are going to be placed in pods and are going to be shot out of large air cannon and are going to become living artillery. The rookie goes silent and we all know he is pale white underneath his helmet, I feel bad for him but he's going to have to learn to love it soon enough.

TOMORROW

"Morning Ladies!" We are all awoken by a screeching noise through the PA system. The guys are really tough to wake up this morning, we all had it tough last night, we were fitted for our new armor systems and had to calibrate and train all night long to make sure everything was up to snuff and no bugs were present. So, we had to essentially pack 7 weeks of training into 10 hours, not fun. Anyway, this was the big day and we were all pumped to drop the hammer on those covenant suckers. As we got our pod stuff together and were moving out of the barracks, I caught a glimpse of my new armor in the mirror, night black with red tiger stripes and silent servos, but unbelievably strong and durable. What an amazing piece of technology... as I give myself one more look down; I jog to the rally point in the war room to get our objectives. The next few hours are not very exciting unless you count pod training and eating space slop exciting. Finally, after dissembling and reassembling our weapons hundreds of times we get orders to move to the pod room for our brief and safety procedure. The clanking of our boots echoes off the hull of the empty base corridors as we scurry down the halls passing all the rooms filled with anxious marines and exhausted Spartans. As we enter, the Gunnery Sergeant there gives a grim look probably because he was only 5' 11" and we stood at 7 feet, sucks for him. He briefs us on our landing zone and our equipment, standard ARs and specialized grenades, and demo charges. I of course grab my old .44 and Rock star just scrapes the explosives off the counter into a sack as he chucks it into his pod, after we have set our weapons and sacks into our chosen pods, the sergeant gives us basic procedure saying that if you land and the door is jammed you have to hit each of the four firing pins and that if you land in a hazard how to set up biological protection gear and so on. Finally, after he finished his droning speech, we got into our pods gave each other thumbs up, and waited for the green light, the general’s voice came over the PA right before we drop, and as the hinges click and the servos of the cannon align you hear in an echo inside each pod "Godspeed boys... good luck."

As our speed increased, you could see the flames spreading across the hull, you heard the rest of the squad yelling and screaming with the giddy laughter of a 6-year-old during Christmas. What was funny though is that I joined them; after the adrenaline stopped pumping, I checked up on every man and sat back as you feel the bumps and checks of the air pockets around us. I speak up past the roar of reentry and laughter of the squad just to say one line that will soon be used again by a shipboard AI 5 years from now, "Mind the bump!" Soon as the last syllable left my mouth the friction chutes pop and slow down the pods for landing and you hear all of us cocking weapons and checking grenades and you hear the booms of the wraiths and armor that had moved in on the UNSC base. As the seconds reach zero you hear the screeching of metal and hissing of heat and the screaming of the infantry that have just been bombarded with Spartans... Unleash HELL!

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As we hit the ground you heard screams from the covenant grunts that inhabit the area. As instructed, we all hit the pins and WHOOM the front of the pod shoots off as we climb out to a small number of terrified covenant troops running from the site. As the rest of the squad steps out you hear the pops and rattles of gunfire explode across the field, blood spills and leaks across the scorch-ridden plains, and our boots crack rocks and plants underneath our feet. I checked up on the rest of my squad and all but Rock star checked in. I had a bad feeling about the reason why he didn’t and we got started on looking for him and what we found crushed us. His pod had gone straight through two wraith tanks and had been pried open by what looked like an energy weapon we had no choice but to assume the worse. We kept walking looking for some clue and killing any split-lipped alien that gets in our way, after a while we found his ammo pouch and a few feet off covered in elite blood his explosives bag still filled with the demo charges. "Looks like we have to go find the big guy..." I spoke through the new comm system in our helmets and the squad came back with approvals, as soon as we started walking there was a disruption and Rock star’s comm picked up and we heard a scratchy voice but it was cut off by the roar of a hunter. That isn't good especially seeing that he is probably dead now and we have to bring his ass back to finish the job. As we move forward we find Rock star’s body but not in bad of a state as we thought, we saw him lying on the ground cuts down to the bone in one leg and a gravity-crushed right leg, he also had his helmet torn off, with blood-stained hair and skin where it once was, he had also wrung both his arms around the neck of a brute chieftain and 4 dead hunters around him mangled and shredded with bullet casings in small piles around the carcasses, "at least he went down fighting." The rookie was right, at least he brought some people with him. At least we can bury him right because I don't do bits and pieces. After we said his last rights and prayers to each of us, we took his neural chips out and his memory cortex and I put them in my storage pack. We trusted his rifle into the ground and placed his helmet on it showing that a hero had died here. Without emotion and remorse, we continued through the dreaded, scorched field, and as a good unit does, we finished our objective. I'm gonna miss Rock star...

3 HOURS LATER...

We arrive at the pickup zone and the black hawk lands to take us out of the destruction that was caused by our actions and about 50 demo charges. We finished the sabotage without a cinch except that Rookie took a carbide round to the foot so he had a funny walk as we made it to the deck. As we walked into the HQ after the landing the guy patted Rookie on the back as he was carted away to get checked up yelling after him "don't start whining, you a man now!" You could hear his laughter down the corridor. We came up to the war room door and you heard a hiss and a clonk and the door slid open with a smiling General Shepard behind it, with his helmet in his arm. "Congrats, boys you did well. Now go get some sleep you're going to need it." So following orders I tell the squad to fall out and go to the barracks and check on Rookie. So, I finally had some time to myself, so I spent the next few minutes in the 'john', sitting on the toilet thinking of how Rock star’s pod landed right into the smack middle of a heavy protection force and was killed because of it. I had to go check his pod launcher and see if it was just fate being a bitch, so I could set my mind to rest. I go to the launching station and the gunny is there checking his formulas and schematics, he hears me coming and looks up with a worried look on his face and I see why, the formula and schematics he was working on were the launching coordinates of Rock star’s pod. "I can't figure it out!" he slams the table with his fists shaking his coffee on the corner of the table, "why is the formula like this? I swear that I placed his coordinates right next to yours, Seer, I swear it." "Don't worry about it, gunny, the drafts could have moved him." "I doubt it, my system picked up a hack as soon as he loaded into the last chamber, and it was a calm day that's why we launched, but I can't figure it out because it looks like it came in from the middle of the HQ." "The general's quarters?" “Yea, that’s the place..."