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Carter, James L.
Harvest : Alpha Base

About to say a sarcasm remark back to Aarno, when James felt a hand grip around his boot just. "I'm here." He looked down and saw a very messed up marine who seemed to be really dazed.
"Look, here he is." He stated as if it was a lost cat, and then he suddenly got an alert in his brain. "MARINE! Are you ok? Get a medic! Lets get him out marines!" He said it all at once, confusing everyone at first, then they saw what he was on about. James started lifting the debris that was around Love's legs, with some help of other marines, while the rest lifted Love out of there promptly.
"So what is your name marine?" He said as you walked up whom that was just rescued.

Harvest
Alpha Base


"Private Love," the rookie coughed up dust and dirt as he tried to clear his lungs, "Private George Love!" he reached his hand out and struggled to push himself up off of the ground to no avail, he had wasted all of his energy getting out of that hell hole. Thankfully the Marine standing above him helped him out, removing debris that held him down whilst the rest of the squad of soldiers working to save him helped him up. Love managed a smirk as he looked back at the pile of rubble that had buried him only moments before. "Maybe next time," He thought. He had successfully cheated death for the first time in his life, and with any luck, it wouldn't be the last. His smile quickly faded however as both the internal trauma as well as the overwhelming pain that he had somehow withstood finally caught up with him and his vision faded to black once again. The private fell limp in the arms of the soldiers, still breathing, holding on with all of his subconscious, but barely alive.

}{Ahem, well, here goes...}{

Current Location »»» North of Alpha Base

"Split-jaw bastards!"

A Marine towards the front of Sergeant Forge's combat team yelled, stomping on where he assumed the gut was as he fired on more of the Elites ahead. Behind him was a much more reserved, but equally dedicated Private. Letting off a shot whenever he had an opening, Liam Riley was, honest to god, completely and utterly lucky he had made it this far. The boy had almost no luck what-so-ever, what little luck he had saved him from being slaughtered only after being bloodied. In this case, his saving grace was the Marine ahead of him.

Long story short, Liam had found himself on the wrong end of an Elites sword. The man that was now yelling curses at the Covenant forces had shot the thing just prior to the killing blow, saving the poor Private's hide. More than happy to take up a cover fire position, he proved to be very apt with his sidearm. There were several Grunts and even an Elite on his personal record for this battle, and he'd assisted most of the others as well as he could. But, well, he was a Private, after all, and Riley didn't exactly have much combat experience.

Neither the 21 year old nor his current guardian angel really noticed as a dead Elite flew by them, but they did see that Hunter ahead. It would take some doing to kill it, with it's big shield and all. Waiting a moment as the Marine ahead of him -Brahm? Burns?- got the big creatures attention, Liam opened fire on the largely under protected sides. Several bullets pinged off the strange blue armour, most flying off into parts, and people, unknown due to the Hunters strange movements.

One eventually hit home, and the bright orange worms twitched in pain, drawing the creatures attention away from B-something, and on young Riley. He wasn't quite sure what happened next, as he had been thrown back several feet into the remains of a Warthog, knocking the wind out of him. Stunned, but obviously mostly alive, the UNSC Marine Private staggered to his feet. There'd be a bruise all along his torso later, but he was alive. Amazingly. And the Hunter was dead. Thankfully.

The boy was roughly in the middle of the combat team when they charged the detonator. He again got shots off when he could, but he mostly tossed two of his three grenades. Liam had lost track of mister B, not caring to look among the dead to see if he was there, but he thanked the man under his breath when the detonator exploded. The rapid expulsion of energy shook the near by ground, nearly knocking the still dazed and unstable Private on his a**. Regaining his composure, he sighed.

"Survived... another battle... I... I got something... going for me." he panted, now starting to really feel the brunt of the Hunter shield attack he had sustained. Needless to saw, he was sore.

>PFC Daniel Bishop
Location: Unknown
Status: MIA

Daniel backed away slowly from the monstrous form in front of him. A look of pure fear was what his face bore. He brought his MA5B to bear and fired three rounds before the weapon was torn from his hands and tossed behind the creature. The large ape-like beast strode toward him, an unmistakable malicious grin formed on the beast's mouth as Daniel tripped and fell on his hands. In an instant the beast picked him up by the throat and squeezed tightly with one hand. Daniel gasped for a breath of air that he knew would never come. He grasped at the brute's hairy arm, looking for a weakness he knew he would never find. The Private prayed for mercy and a miracle that he knew would never happen. The corners of his vision grew blurry; his world grew dark ever so slowly. Then with a final curse upon his assailant, he died.

Carter, James L.
Harvest : North of Alpha Base

The warthog was going at 62 miles per hour, to be exact. Snow was grinding against the tires, being ripped from the ground and tossed away, or smacking against the mudguards with a unpleasant sound. The cold wind was briefly felt by the marines riding in the warthog, giving them a quick chill down their spines which distracted long enough to take their concentration away from the environment around them for a few seconds. Just as they got focused once more a Hunter pair fired their plasma cannons right in from of the vehicle. The gunner saw it coming in time to at give a brief warning.
"LOOK OUT!"
They felt the warthog flip more than 20 times in so many directions to confuse even the attackers. The Warthog landed on its wheels with a bouncy slide over a patch of icy snow. The warthog seemed to have misplaced a lot of its parts, including all its glass and the gunner was gone, probably dead. The corporal seemed dazed and was bleeding from his head and his helmet was gone. While Carter was crossing is arms over his chest, holding on to his seat belt with a look of being stunned beyond all reckoning. He shook his head a little to get his head around of what just happened, and remembered an exploding light of green and then he was looking at a fast moving and twisting blur that just seemed to not stop. Now he felt like the hulk grabbed him by his arms and smashed him against a brick wall 50 times and amazingly survived it.
Carter looked up to see the hunters about 50 meters away, running eagerly to finish him and the corporal off. Suddenly they stopped, they seemed to be looking down at something. Grabbing the corporal's battle rifle, Carter looked through the scope to see what it was. He saw them pick up what first looked like a think rag, then he realized it was a marine. He looked around at the back and saw not only was the gun gone, but so was the marine. Carter shoved the rifle into the corporal's chest.
"You going to sit there and cry about that little scratch on your head corporal or are we going to kick these ugly alien's a**?"
"Lets get to some cover marine!"
Carter grabbed his assault rifle and side arm, then jumped out of the warthog, losing his balance and almost falling over while landing.
He followed the corporal to large rock, and got to the opposite side of it to that of the Hunters. The corporal was on the radio calling for backup while Carter kept look out using his infrared binoculars.
"What is that old saying corporal? 'Up the creek without a paddle'? Well, what ever those twenty first century people meant, it had gotta of meant that we are in a seriously bad situation."

Current Location »»» Alpha Base

Liam, in all his pulverized glory, was sent back to base to check the extent of the injuries he had sustained. Which was a bit more than he expected. You see that Elite -you know, the one with the Energy Sword?- had managed to score a blow to his side. Had he been the only person not to notice it? He hadn't been bleeding that much, because surely he would have noticed then. "Well, son, you're going to have a good-sized scar there." the medic examining him stated.

"That's okay, doc. I'm just glad to be alive." the Private chuckled, though the act hurt like a son-of-a-b***h. It turns out that when that Hunter tried to teach him how to fly, the brunt of the force went across his stomach. Oh, sure, it hurt. You would not believe how much it hurt, especially since it had already started bruising. But luckily, (or perhaps unluckily, depending on your view) nothing was broken and after a little downtime, he could go back to light duty. Can't have him tearing his stitches, you know.

Private Adrian Retton |
En Route as reinforcements|
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The small force of a previous scouting party was returning now on call for reinforcements among them was Private Retton along with the rest of his squad. They all we're low on rest, moral, rations, and most importantly ammo. These marines had been out in the mess for awhile long enough to realize how important this was as they drew closer to their destination moral boosted, and adrenaline kicked in over powering most of the need for rest for the time being the only problem was ammo, but they had no intention of letting that stop them.

A couple clicks to the south till their destination, this was the very edge of the battle. Grunt squads could be seen to the left and right, hell even the front, which made for a very entertaining thing to do watching them shoot out the back of the 'Hog like a blender without a lid. Unfortunately sooner than later the fighting started the heat of the plasma shots lapped against the side of the vehicle as it made its way to the rally point. The scarceness of the ammo they had made it hard to make every shot a kill for fear of being left without ammo at all so they made or tried to make every shot count.

After the light fighting slowly they crept towards their goal Sangehlli we're running in the same direction not paying to much attention to the LRV as to run and shoot at the same time. The armor plating stopped most of the rounds except they few that went high or splashed over giving some marines a few nasty burns or worse...The driving became more panicked swerving to an' fro back and forth when a purplish beam came from the side contacting the ground near them the first reaction was also a young marines last words as he stood and yelled, "Snipe-!" was all he got out before another beam penetrated through his helmet, and he fell from the Warthog dead.