Noble 7

"Alright Major, we're ready," Warren, the ODST captain, whispered. "On your mark."

Major Burke barely peeked at the enemy from behind an ambulance. He wanted to get a good look at the enemy, not the other way around.

Let's see here... three Jackals... and looks like just one Elite. Plus a bunch of Grunts. Easy.

The ODSTs were holding down the frontline while he'd gone around to flank the Covenant lance from the side. He'd sensed that Warren was growing a little impatient, but that was fine. Burke was originally from Earth, but he'd been stationed on Harvest when the planet fell. There, he'd participated in several operations in which patience had proven to be key. There was even one instance where he and a fellow operative had camped out on an abandoned ski lift tower in order to sharpshoot an Insurrectionist leader they were told would pass through the area, and later did. He understood patience better than a chameleon. Warren and the other shock troopers were too itchy fingered on the trigger to appreciate the tactic.

Burke pressed down the transmit button on his communicator before he spoke.

"Let 'em fly," he said.

Warren and Melissa both armed and overhand tossed fragmentation grenades. The first was a tad too high and sailed right over the lance's position, but the second frag landed right amidst a loud trio of talkative Grunts. The resulting explosion sent the dumpy little aliens cartwheeling through the air in different directions. But they weren't the only ones affected by the blast. A nearby Jackal lost its yellow energy shield and covered its head with both arms as it ran for cover. A Grunt in heavy drab armor also survived the blast, but unlike it's wiser compatriot, chose to sit there screaming hysterically and running around in circles.

Here we go.

With a full smile that sparkled nearly as much as his helmet visor in the sunlight, Major Burke unslung his M45 tactical shotgun and stepped out from behind the vehicle. He saw another Jackal directly to his right less than five feet away, facing off against the ODSTs that had formed a solid perimeter around the hospital's entrance. Inside the four-floor emergency facility, Army troopers were busily evacuating the remaining civilians. Just then the Grunt running in circles spotted Burke, yelped, and ran the other way. The Jackal squawked at this, then turned around and saw Burke in full sprint. Trying not to alert the other occupied aliens with the sound of a shotgun blast, Burke hammered the avian creature in the face with the butt of his firearm. It collapsed to the floor and he quickly stomped on the creature's head and felt its beak crunch beneath his boot.

That's when he heard Warren over the COMs shouting to the others, "Move up, move up!"

The team's sniper, Daniel, and Warren stayed behind the barricades nearest to the entrance whilst David and Melissa moved up to two more emergency response vehicles that were parked near the one Burke had just moved from. They were effectively grouping the last of the aliens into a small, containable space. David underhanded a grenade right at the feet of the Elite, who looked down at it and instantly kicked it away. When it went off, it was barely over the Jackals' heads.

Most of them were slammed against the ground by the explosion and Burke was already moving in with his shotgun to finish off the ones that weren't. One of the Grunts had been actually thrown towards him by the bomb and he clotheslined it with a pull of the trigger. The Elite didn't seem to like that image too much. In fact, it raised its arms, bellowed, and shook its fists in rage.

Seems upset.

"Pow!" Daniel yelled out as a sniper's round punched the Elite through the leg.

A second, smoke-trailed bullet crowned the tall alien and it fell back in a pool of violet blood.

Ah, that's better.

The majority of the enemies that remained at that point were a handful of Grunts who by then decided it was everyone for themselves. They were quickly picked off by assault rifle and designated marksman rifle crossfire as they tried to flee. A lone Jackal, the one who survived the first grenade, tried to shout them back into order, but soon found himself preoccupied with a Spartan I.

Burke leveled his shotgun and the Jackal braced behind its yellow shield. The first buckshot blast knocked the shield to the side, the second put a hole in the creature's chest and sent the bloody carcass tumbling back across the road. The ODSTs all whooped and cheered.

"Yeah-heah!"

"Alright!"

"You should do that, like, all the time!"

Burke soaked it all in. He felt it was important to celebrate the victories. Reach's survival was not guaranteed, and the number of what could be called 'victories' would decrease drastically in the coming weeks. Dark times were indeed on approach, there was no denying that. But for now, the good guys had won.

"That the last of 'em Dot?" he checked just to be sure.

"For now, Major," the helpful AI responded coolly in her thick accent. "Stand by, Noble Team is en route for retrieval. Your presence has been requested to aid in the perimeter defense at the Office of Naval Intelligence Sword Base."

"Sounds good to me," Burke replied.

He then asked, "And my team?"

"Negative," she replied. "Whiskey-One will remain here to assist in Noble Four and Noble Five's counterassault."

He could see the Falcon arriving now. He slung his shotgun over his shoulder and waved at the aircraft, turned to the ODSTs, and shrugged.

"Sorry. VIPs only."