Halo Lighting System Games Games User Manual


 
ERIC NYLUND
17
Fred nodded, and clipped the other captured weapon to his
harness. "Beats the hell out of throwing rocks," he replied.
"Affirmative, Chief," she said with a nod. "But just barely."
"Red-One," Joshua's voice called over the SQUADCOM.
"I'm a half-klick ahead of you. You need to see this."
"Roger," Fred told him. "Red Team, hold here and wait for my
signal."
Acknowledgment lights winked on.
In a half crouch, Fred made his way toward Joshua. There was
light ahead: The shade thinned and vanished because the forest
was gone. The trees had been leveled, every one blasted to splin-
ters or burned to charred nubs.
There were bodies, too; thousands of Covenant Grunts, hun-
dreds of Jackals and Elites littered the open field. There were
also humans—all dead. Fred could see several fallen Marines
still smoldering from plasma fire. There were overturned Scor-
pion tanks, Warthogs with burning tires, and a Banshee flier. The
flier had snagged one canard on a loop of barbed wire, and it pro-
pelled itself, riderless, in an endless orbit.
The generator complex on the far side of this battlefield was
intact, however. Reinforced concrete bunkers bristling with ma-
chine guns surrounded a low building. The generators were deep
beneath there. So far it looked as if the Covenant had not man-
aged to take them, though not for lack of trying.
"Contacts ahead," Joshua whispered.
Four blips appeared on his motion sensor. Friend-or-foe tags
identified them as UNSC Marines, Company Charlie. Serial
numbers flashed next to the men as his HUD picked them out on a
topo map of the area.
Joshua handed Fred his sniper rifle, and he sighted the con-
tacts through the scope. They were Marines, sure enough. They
picked through the bodies that littered the area, looking for sur-
vivors and policing weapons and ammo.
Fred frowned; something about the way the Marine squad
moved didn't feel right. They lacked unit cohesion, with their
line ragged and exposed. They weren't using any of the available
cover. To Fred's experienced eye, the Marines didn't even seem
to be heading in a specific direction. One of them just ambled in
circles.