King of 'The Hill'

[Shaide]

Ashke ducked behind cover, reloading his assault rifle with stun rounds. His armour was dented in several places from the last mission, and every time he looked at his hands he spotted a new scratch. Hoping the next MJOLNIR version would be finished soon, he primed a grenade and threw it at an Elite who was trying to rush one of Blue Team. It struck the Elite square in the chest and stuck there. That was the best thing about being allied with the Elites; they got to use however much Covenant tech they wanted.

The grenade detonated, knocking out the Elite and allowing Ash to dash out from his position behind a deployable cover that one of the other Spartans had set up. He picked up another grenade to replace the one he had just used, then ran for the spot marked in everyone's Heads-Up Displays as the 'Hill' they had to control. The problem here was that it was 'crazy king' and the hill moved every so often.

As per usual, the hill moved again. This time it moved closer to Ash, and he looked at an Elite who was running for it. He could easily outrun the Elite, and he knew it, but he wanted to take out the 'enemy' rather than beat him to the Hill.

"Alright, Elite, you're going down!"

He opened fire, knocking out this second Elite, then sprinted for the Shade stationary gun that was in the middle of the 'hill' area. He knew it fired paint packets, but that was just how things panned out. There was no alternative except try and defend it using just an assault rifle, grenades, and his sniper rifle, and that wasn't an option.

"Oh, darn."

He dived from the gun moments before an Elite's grenade detonated, flipping it over and out of the 'hill' area.

"Now what? I need either backup or a heavy weapon of some sort..."

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This one's UNSC v Elites, if it wasn't already clear. Just a bit of fun for both sides. The UNSC (and Flaredrake if Rhydian joins in) are using stun rounds in this one because Elites can take them better than Marines, but the Elites will be using Plasma Rifles and the like that use paint packets instead of firing plasma or the needles that needlers fire.

[Rhydian]

A loud noise started up and Admiral Flaredrake rounded a corner, the chain-gun he was hefting spitting stun rounds into the Elites he was fighting.

He worked his way clear of the knot, and ditched the chain gun; it slowed him down, and besides, he'd reached the end of tha ammo belt.

Unslinging his assault rifle, and grimacing, he proceeded to run to the "Hill."

Seeing a Spartan in trouble, he surprised the Elites that were harrassing him by letting loose with the AR. He took out several before the others turned and opened fire at him.

Ben automatically ducked behind a wall, muttering a mild oath to himself.

Snagging ammo from an AR that was lying in the dirt, he heard an Elite sneaking across the wall.

Cheekily grinning within his helmet, he pulled a grenade, primed it, and dropped in onto the Elite's right arm, where it stuck.

"What-?" the Elite yelled, then was knocked over by the stun grenade.

A jump over the wall, and a couple of stun rounds later, the Elite was out of the game, and Ben flagged him electronically for pickup.

Ben then sidearmed another grenade, into an Elite that was harrassing the Spartan. The well-aimed grenade hit him on the chest, and bounced off, landing at the feet of another.

"Oops," Ben muttered, "Wrong grenade."

[Shaide]

Ashke leapt back from the grenade, even though he knew he was outside its blast range. He was always extra careful when his allies were using stun ammunition.

As per usual, the hill moved again. This time it was on top of what would at any other time be blue team's base. Conveniently, there was a teleport panel only a few metres from Ash's position that teleported Spartans, Marines and Elites to three specific points on the Hill. Spartans were sent to blue base, Marines to red base, and Elites into the open where there was about no cover. As such, the Elites had quickly learned not to use this particular panel. Ash had no idea where Flaredrake would be sent, as the Dragonmaster fit into none of the three categories.

Putting the thought at the back of his mind, Ash nodded his thanks to Flaredrake and vanished through the teleport panel.

Appearing on the first floor of blue base, Ash skidded around corners and almost slipped off the ladder to the roof. Once there, he jumped into the gunner's seat of a rocket warthog and scanned the area for Elites. Unfortunately there were far too many Marines around to actually use the 'hog's weapon, so he jumped back out again and picked up a modified fuel rod cannon. Having carried only an assault rifle and a sniper rifle for the past ten minutes, it was something of a relief to finally be able to use one of his favourite weapons. The only problem was the fact that fuel rod cannons, being heavy weapons, could not carry very many paint packs at any given time. That, however, did not change the fact that the UNSC could reload these modified heavy weapons. Ash, being taller, stronger and faster than most Spartans, could also carry more spare paint packs than most Spartans. It was a blessing to any team to have Ash on it, but blue team had both Ash and Shaide. Wherever she had gotten to.

Ash took out another four or five Elites, then dodged another grenade. He sidearmed a frag grenade in reply.

"Fire in the hole!"

The grenade smacked right into an Elite's chest, bounced off, and hit another in the back. It then detonated rather pointlessly. Both Elites had already been knocked out by the impact of the grenade itself. Ash silently berated himself. If the Elites had been Marines, they would probably have been killed when the grenade hit them.

All of a sudden, with no warning, a camouflaged Elite deactivated his active camo right next to Ash, then punched the Spartan hard in the back.

"Unff!"

Although winded, Ashke switched weapon back to his assault rifle and emptied the stun rounds into the Elite's left leg.

"That, I'm pretty sure, was against the rules of this game. So now you're going down."

The Elite was well inside the range where stun rounds could be lethal, but Ash was being extra careful. If the assault rifle had been aimed at the Elites chest, he would be dead by now. As it was, stun rounds to the leg were usually fine. Unless of course you were fighting a Jackal. Ash had killed Jackals by hitting their hands with sniper rifle rounds enough times in the past.

This Elite was still standing. Even after a full sixty armour piercing stun rounds, the Elite was fine. And that was getting Ash frustrated. He dropped his assault rifle, got out his combat knife, and plunged it into the Elite's other leg. Filling the massive wound with Biofoam, he pushed the finally unconscious Elite up against one of the walls that made up cover on top of blue base and went back to defending the hill, knowing he had broken the rules of the game as well. Lethal force was strictly forbidden, and both Spartan and Elite had used plenty of it. The combat knife, six inches of titanium alloy, was easily the most deadly weapon at such short range. Ash was lucky he was a Spartan, in a way. That Elite could easily have killed a Marine with that same blow.

Ash was sure he had at least one fractured rib from that punch, but there was no time to worry about it. He pushed the pain to the back of his mind, put his knife away, and picked up his assault rifle again. He had a hill to control.

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ooh, ouch. It takes an awful lot of force to break a Spartan's bones, and it looks like that Elite did just that.

[Rhydian]

Ben shook his head, "Ashke."

Glancing around, his eyes lit on a familiar shape, a battle rifle.

Snagging it, he paused when his AI unit, CyberCruurtun, asked, "Are you sure you want that?"

"Yes," Ben said firmly, clamping the rifle to where he usually carried a sword, his left hip.

He wasn't particularly surprised when Rhydian drove up, and yelled, "Hop in!"

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Rhydian wove the Warthog through an obstical course and brought it to a halt near the hill, and jumped out. The Draconus continued to pour fire out at the Elites trying to get to them.

Glancing at the Draconus, who motioned at a Scorpion tank, then backflipped off the 'Hog as a grenade stuck to it.

Rhydian stepped into the hill area, and watched as the Admiral rolled around the building, blasting out paint shells, which burst, sending paint everywhere. Elites spattered by the paint grumbled and stalked out of the fight zone.

Rhydian explored the hill area, and bumped into Ashke.

"Ashke, sir. What happened to your armour?"

[Shaide]

"Ouch! Careful, red leader. That Elite," Ash pointed to the Elite who was by now regaining consciousness, "Happened. He broke the rules, punched me - pretty damn hard, might I add - and wouldn't go down when he should have."

Ash was watching the timer in his Heads-Up Display, waiting for the time the hill would next move. With plenty of other Spartans about, it was going to be fairly easy for the others to make sure no Elites got inside the building. From that fact alone, most of the Spartans felt confident of a win. And with one minute left until the hill moved, but only fifty-nine seconds until the UNSC personnel won the game, it would be simple. In theory.

The hill moved, still fifty seconds from when it was supposed to be moving. Ashke jumped down the ladder, swore loudly when his feet hit the floor, and dashed towards the new location of the hill. A few metres ahead of him was an Elite, who just kept sprinting. Ash could easily have taken him out, but he didn't. Not this time.

He dodged a large burst of paint packs, which gave the Elite another metre or so of ground. Ground that Ash would never be able to make up in time to get hill control. The Spartan hit the dirt just inside the hill area, ensuring the timer counted both sides in the game, and gave his fuel rod cannon its chance to shine. Paint splattered both the Elite and the Spartan, but it was the Elite who was knocked out of the game. Ashke had calculated the distance just perfectly, and in combat situations the blast would have washed over him but not damaged anything. Sure, his shields would probably have gone down, but no damage would be sustained. Getting to his feet and jumping into the Shade that was conveniently located in the middle of the hill, he prepared to defend the hill again. The only problem was, he was one Spartan - one injured Spartan - out in the open, and there were a good fifty or sixty Elites still in the game. Without some serious backup, he'd never be able to keep the hill for long.

______________________

Shaide ducked, weaved and dodged through a rather large group of Marines who were refusing to get out of her way. Somewhere here was Ashke, and something told her he was injured. Shaide liked to call it woman's intuition, but in all truth it was more likely to be the training she had in trusting gut feelings.

She finally cleared the Marines, and there, one hundred metres ahead and out in the open, was Ashke. The dent in the back of his battle-suit said enough.

In a heartbeat, she was in position next to the stationary gun, using the only cover available, and helping Ashke fight off the masses of Elites who were clamouring for a spot in the hill area.

"You looked like you needed a miracle. Well, here she is," Shaide joked, "What happened to you?"

_____________________

Ashke grinned behind his faceplate, "I was just thinking I needed some serious backup. I hope I don't have to tell everyone tonight," he visibly grimaced, "That won't be fun."

"Go on," Shaide sounded eager to find out, and there was perhaps a note of worry in her voice.

"One of the Elites just appeared - just like that - and decided he wanted to kill me. Yeah. I know. He punched me so hard I bet it would have even almost killed Rhydian, which is so against the rules it's not funny, and then he wouldn't go down so I used my combat knife, which is also against the rules but I don't care. He hurt me, so I hurt him right back. And harder."

"Are you okay? You didn't kill him, did you?"

"I'm fine. No, of course not. I had to empty a full can of Biofoam into his leg, though, or he'd have died from loss of blood."

"Okay, that's good. That you didn't kill him, that is. And obviously that you're fine. Not so good that you used up my last can of Biofoam," Shaide laughed, "Of course I'm joking, I don't mind if you use up my stuff. As long as it's not the hot chocolate machine," she joked, "I live on that when the techs decide they want it to snow."

Ash rolled his eyes, but concealed the sarcasm from his voice, "Why would anyone want to take away your hot chocolate? It's not like it's bad for you or anything."

Shaide's 'intuition' alerted her to Ash's sarcasm, and she laced her voice with innocence.

"I know I shouldn't, but it gets so cold out here when it snows..."

Both Spartans laughed, but Ash sobered up a moment later. Shaide, sensing his discomfort, also sobered up.

"Are you sure you're okay? That Elite must have hit you pretty hard," her voice was again marred with worry, "I mean, it takes a lot to kill even the other Spartans. You, Rhydian and I are the three strongest."

"That Elite broke at least one of my ribs," Ash admitted, "But I don't want to stop training just yet. On a mission I wouldn't have a choice; I'd have to keep fighting, or die. Remember what SPARTAN-117 used to say? That to treat training as real combat is the highest virtue a soldier can uphold, or whatever it was?"

Shaide privately thought 117 was a bit of a nutcase, but he had been the best of the first Spartans. If she voiced her opinion, she would lose respect. Something she had learned before the UNSC had come recruiting was that the three things a soldier absolutely did not want to lose were rank, respect and dignity. Lose any one of those, and you lose all three. Her father, at least what she remembered of him, was a real military man. Shaide knew from her father that the best soldiers would die to save their team-mates, civilians, or ranking officers. But it had to be the good of many over the good of one.

Over some twelve years of training, Shaide had learned the difference between a life spent and a life wasted, among other things. As the leader of the Spartans, it was something she needed to know. It was also something some soldiers never understood. She had dealt with Marines who thought she was crazy for sending their friends into situations she knew they would never survive so that the majority of the human forces in the areas in question had a good chance of surviving.

A blue dot on her motion tracker grabbed her attention, "Woahdang!"

Ashke looked over at his surprised colleague, "What?"

"He is here. You know, him."

"Who?"

"Check your motion tracker," Shaide hissed, "That'll tell you."

"No way. Not him," Ash's mouth dropped open, "He never graces us with his presence."

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No, I'm not telling you who the blue dot is. Not just yet.

[Rhydian]

Ben swung the tank around a corner and literally rolled into the hill area.

Stopping, he swung the turret around and fired, as Rhydian let loose from the chain-gun turret. The four marines Ben had picked up also opened fire.

On instinct, Ben swung the turret completely around and fired.

The Wraith that had been sneaking up on them was covered in paint, and forced to leave the field.

Rhydian roared with laughter, "What a rush!"

Ben frowned at his miniature TAC display, that blue dot...

He swung the turret back around and reversed into a nearby cliff wall, stoppign just before he hit it.

Perfect defensive position for a tank.

[Shaide]

Shaide watched the blue dot approach, mad adrenaline running through her veins. The blue dot, very like her own, was almost too fast to be possible. Not big enough for a vehicle, too fast to be on foot. And it was heading straight for the hill area.

"Ash, get out of here," Shaide's stage whisper carried to everyone within ten metres of the hill area, "If you-know-who gets here and you're still about, you could be in real trouble."

Ash nodded and half jumped, half fell out of the stationary gun, then sprinted to blue base and signalled for pickup. It was the safest - and easiest - way to get off The Hill, not to mention the quickest.

Meanwhile, back in the middle of the action, Shaide had her assault rifle trained on where the blue dot's owner should be. True to form, she was exactly on target when the Arbiter materialised out of apparently nowhere.

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[Rhydian]

Flaredrake was equally ready. He loosed a shot, but missed, and Rhydian opened fire as Ben moved his tank.

Controlling the tank with one hand, to use telekinesis he needed to see what he was moving, and aimed his AR at the Arbiter, bracing it on the hull plates of the tank. The Marines went nuts, and the tank turned into a one-vehicle firestorm. Of course, the Marines weren't aiming, so the stun round mostly flew wide or ploughed into the dirt.

"That's the Arbiter, huh?" Ben murmured over the COM, "That'd be a tough fight on foot, if I had a support weapon."

[Shaide]

"Hold your fire," the Arbiter deployed a bubble shield, "I am not here to fight."

Shaide punched the ground and swore loudly, evidently disappointed. All the other Elites were willing to fight humans, but the Arbiter apparently thought fighting would strain the ties of the alliance between the two races.

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Sorry it's so short. I don't have much to work from, and no muse at all...

[Rhydian]

Ben and Rhydian both stopped firing, then Ben barked, "Hold your fire, Marines!"

The Marines immediately ceased fire and looked around nervously.

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Sorry, I didn't have much to build on.

[Shaide]

Shaide kept her assault rifle trained on the Arbiter, but flicked the safety on nonetheless.

"If you aren't here to fight, Arbiter, then why are you here? This is a training game," she reminded the Elite, "We're meant to fight each other. A little friendly competition never hurt anyone. Except Ashke."

The Arbiter looked at her, about to ask what she meant.

"One of your soldiers, Arbiter, broke the rules of this game and used potentially lethal force. I won't go into specifics and I don't even know what rank the particular Elite was, but from the fact that he broke the rules, I'm willing to assume it was a rookie," Shaide cut him off as usual when he tried to protest her assumption, "No, I'm not questioning the way you teach rookies the rules. I'm simply saying that all rookies at some point or another do silly things. All soldiers do, but I've never seen an experienced Elite make that huge a mistake."

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Does this help? I still have no muse. Even the what-if-inator hasn't helped...