Halo Fanon:Kanna Reserve

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=Kana Reserve=

7
9th of August, 2607, 9:41 Theta Nero System, Kanna, Aleph City, Industrial West:

The three phantoms flew into the outskirts of the previously quiet city. Explosions and glistening fireballs erupted unexpectedly into the evening air. The distant ripple and boom of weapon fire cut through each Brute here like knife to butter. They were ready but the death toll on there side so far had been high. The leading Phantom’s pilot barked over the radio.

“We’re coming in hot. Load your weapons and shoe no mercy.” The com went dead and so was the uneasy silence in the cargo bay of the dropship. Their captain spoke:

“When we reach the ground we desecrate any enemy, on foot or machine. We punch straight through their defences and each pack will flank them. Watch each others backs and give them hell!” For once the pack livened up as they roared in excitement. However one did not. Novus. A young Brute Minor brought up to despise and hate any foreign specie except the Prophets. He was ready for war but concentration filled him as he watched the streaks of plasma and metal shards flying around. He was going to be there. Any minute now…

Then, without any warning the Phantom to the left of his was hit by a round of missiles. The nose of the ship dipped and burnt as it plummeted into the engulfing industrial metal of the city. A few Brutes onboard Novus’s ship were thrown off balance, by the shockwave, but recovered to hold their war-ready posture tightly inside the cargo bay.

“Unload Brutes and good luck!” The pilot shouted over the com. The Phantom swivelled to the side and dropped steadily onto an asphalt area. Novus was quick to load his Nailer Rifle and to jump off the dropship. He landed and then saw the full hell of war. It was his first time and despite the training he was scared. Even for a Brute; the feeling of near death and killing stirred around in his body. He ran along side the pack hugging close to the building’s walls searching for a sense of salvation. He was far off that. Human marines appeared from around the corners of the street, which they were running down. Novus quickly jumped into a nearby ally and slammed his back onto the wall for cover.

He popped his head around and shot blindingly at the Humans who were taking cover behind buildings and construction vehicles. His rounds missed and then the hissing spit of incoming fire entered his ears as enemy bullets pinged and smashed into the nearby wall. He flew back into cover but the adrenaline started to kick in. He felt ready and pumped up. Then the anger came: He saw dead Brute bodies with smashed armour and blood sprayed rubble underneath. He then saw another Minor get a heavy round shot through the skull. Crimson blood spewed into the air as the lifeless body fell with no effort. The blood marked the beginning of this war: a war, which the Remnants were going to win.

Novus switched back to the offensive, this time firing in short controlled bursts. He instantly hit a Human soldier in the chest and made the small pathetic body fly onto their own land. He liked the feeling of revenge. His pack was still intact and more rounds hit marines. Novus fired again at a retreating soldier and pierced the already weak shields of the poor human. The next burst of super hot sun-glowing rounds cut through the armour and into the Human’s back. The body fell to the floor.

However resistance was still strong and more incoming fire hit the wall and this time Novus’s shields. He quickly took cover and then blind fired until the clip was empty. He quickly reloaded and aimed out again to kill off some more of the Humans. Rounds of the Nailer Rifle struck shields and skulls of the falling Humans and a small victory, in this vast blood ridden battle, started to appear. Then it went.

As more marines retreated hopelessly; two enemy Warthogs came hurtling from around the corner. They skidded to a halt and the infantry firing stopped. They had gauss cannons on the back. Novus had no idea what the Humans called their hardware but what he did know is that it caused a lot of damage. They shot their ear splitting super sonic projectiles at the pack and instantly half of the remaining Brutes were either blown apart, in a sprawl of blood and body parts, or thrown off their feet, into bone cracking impacts on the surrounding buildings or construction vehicles.

The Captain of the pack ran over and was hit by a few rifle rounds but still managed to make it to the ally where Novus was. Another three Brutes, out of the original twelve, came rushing over to the ally too. A gauss round ripped open a struggling Brute, who also tried to make it. Anger filled Novus like the scent of blood and fire did to his nose.

“COME ON, WE NEED TO MOVE AROUND THE SIDE AND RENDEZVOUS WITH THE REMAINING FORCES.” The Captain shouted and started to run down the ally. The Brutes followed shortly behind with doubts of whether there would be any remaining forces left. Novus heard explosions and gunfire getting ever closer to his rushing body. Was that all this life offered him? Then again, was that all he was born for?

He loaded his rifle with a new magazine and ran faster. He ran faster into battle. The battle, he was going to win…

8
All around, nothing but silence. The hunter and his prey. Without a single sound, a single giveaway, the hunter worked his way into position, his squad a few feet away, watching with baited breath. The sniper reached his position, a small knoll in an endless field. Half a click away, his target waited, unmoving. The ODST had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike, and it was now. He was upwind, out of sight range, and was too quiet to be heard. All it would take was one shot. He brought his rifle to bear, and took careful, precise aim. He would only have one shot, and couldn't waste it.

He was shaky. Nervous. He expelled those thoughts quickly, and focused on the target. He brought his aim to the center of mass, the quickest way to make an easy kill. He counted to himself, 3, 2, 1! and fired. The bullet rushed through the air, a hungry bloodhound bounding for its target. In less than a second, it was over. The bullet pounded into the target, puncturing and fracturing it with ease. His squad erupted into cheers, the bullseye completely erased from the brute-shaped target. Roger Wilkoe, a Sergeant, was the single best shot in the ODST 105th. Or so he claimed. His skill and knowledge was proof enough to his platoon, Blackheart. As the grunts celebrated, a single fellow trooper walked up to him. Jeremy Patterson, his closest friend, most determined rival, and leader of Blackheart. They always tried to outdo each other, but sniping was Wilkoe's specialty.

"So, how'd I do boss?"

"Not bad, Wilkoe. I've seen better, though."

"I don't believe it. That was a perfect shot!"

"Too long to aim. There's no guarantee the Brute wouldn't have moved, or figured out your position. If you want to be as efficient as possible, you need to determine exactly where you need to aim, even if you or him moves. Like this." Without pause, the First Sergeant drew a pistol from his side, brought it up, and without looking, fired. The Brute target's head exploded in a shrapnel of splinters and dust. The entire squad fell silent, and after a moment's pause doubled their previous cheers.

Wilkoe paused, contemplating a response. "Well, you have an unfair advantage anyways. You'd never have pulled if off if your grandpa hadn't been a Spartan."

"I'll give you this, the training CJ gave to me was worth a lot, but this--" he paused to blow imaginary smoke off his pistol. "--is all skill."

"Whatever you say, sir." Wilkoe said with a chuckle. Before he could continue, though, another Blackheart ran up. Lance Corporal Jose Marez was panting, barely able to breathe after an apparent Kilometer-long sprint.

He finally managed to wheeze out "All 105th... report... base... important!" and fell into the waiting arms of two other Shock Troopers.

Roger looked Jeremy in the eye. "If it was enough to make Jose move, it must be important." His voice increased to a baritone yell. "All Blackhearts, report to base, now!" Platoon members on the other side of the field heard him, and the entire Platoon formed into a line formation. First Sergeant Patterson demanded excellent presentation. In unison, 35 Troopers began the long march back to base.

9th of August, 2607, 9:50 Theta Nero System, Kanna, Aleph City, Industrial West:

Yithii grew impatient and uncomfortable. The Darkbrood and her Captain Kindik'Yar were not a respected duo, and the Jiralhanae had only given them three ancient Spirits to drop off 70 Kig'Yar. As he dealt with them more and more, Yithii began to understand why Humans called them brutes. Met with shouts of "Hallelujah!", the pilots announced they had reached the dropzone. They were to meet with a Jiralhanae (Brute, Yithii thought with a smirk) pack and assist them in any way possible. A Spirit to their right stopped on a rooftop to drop off the Snipers, the other two dropped them in a cramped street. Several Humans fought a Brute below, exchanging shots. An enemy vehicle approached, its Gauss cannon ripped the Brute to shreds. One Spirit stopped above it, and dropped its payload on it: Thirty Kig'Yar armed with Cutlasses. They assaulted the vehicle from every direction, cutting its crew to pieces with their refined melee weapons. Three of them jumped inside, their bodies barely able to fit in this alien construction, and began to analyze the controls.

Finally, Yithii's Spirit stopped, and dropped off his lance directly behind the Humans. Before they hit the ground, an effective wall had been made by their point defense gauntlets. The Humans turned to fire, but Yithii had trained his Kig'Yar well, and none flinched under the onslaught. Above them, the Snipers took aim, and a volley annihilated the Humans, most killed on the spot. However, a single Human clung to life, and turned on his back, his Rifle aimed at a sniper. He took a single shot, and the Kig'Yar's head exploded in a fountain of gore. Before he could take aim again, the body fell from the building, and miraculously landed on the Human, crushing him in his weakened state.

Before they had any time to relax, another squad of a dozen Humans turned the corner in front of them, one armed with a rocket launcher. Yithii knew they couldn't survive this, and began to order a retreat. Before the words could be uttered, however, he heard a horn honk from a Human vehicle. The Gauss vehicle behind them hit a rock, and flew through the air above the shield wall, manned by three Kig'Yar. The Gauss Cannon roared to life, and extinguished three Humans, including the rocketeer. It landed on top of two more, scattering the terrified Humans.

Yithii's lance barked and howled in victory, as the Snipers came down to join them, the Cutlass Pirates from behind. The group relaxed, and began to search for the pack they had been sent to support.

MasterGreen999 19:48, 26 July 2008 (UTC)