The name of the HRP goes here

"Motion tracker doesn't show anything. And if there are enemies, stay behind me I suppose. Call your target." Teria sighted in on a grunt, the hapless little alien swinging his legs on a crate

An annoyed face plasters itself over Andrea's own face and under her helmet, "Alright." If Luka didn't want to talk about it, that was fine. Prying the information out of her wasn't going to help in the slightest. They make it to the hallway Andrea had passed a bit ago. She stacks on the side and peeks around the corner. Her lamp illuminating the hallway and bringing to light the amount of dead soldiers. The scorch marks from the plasma had settled into the walls and the floor and had stained the once decent looking base. With no sign of enemy contact, she rounds the corner and continues on.

"I'l take the one in the back," Corbin whispered. "3...2...1..mark," he said, and squeezed the trigger of his rifle. A burst of shredder rounds took the grunt in the back.

Teria checked his aim and let out a burst. The AP rounds tore right through the grunt's body, drilling holes in armor flesh ad propane tanks. It only barely knew what had happened to it as it fell sideways off the crate and it's friends started panicking

The problem was that unlike Teria, Corbin's rounds were shredder rounds, good at mincing tissue and flesh but not much good for the Grunt body armor. They dented it and punctured in small places but the alien still turned, making some odd noises and cries as it brought its plasma pistol to bear. "Oh crap," Peter muttered, ducking as a green bolt whizzed past. Leaning up he fired again, taking the arm of the grunt. Next time open up with AP rounds you idiot, he thought to himself.

Teria didn't both hiding. The grunt's shots were wide, panicked, pointless. He held a constant spray of fire going downrange, bullets whistling past the Covenant in a cloud of death and pain. He brought down another Grunt, it's body leaking from all over, before he had to reload. Then he ducked down to reload.

While Teria reloaded, Peter filled in, popping back up and spraying more bullets at the grunts. Killing a few more, he hoped this was all there was....and that their shots weren't attracting more enemies.

The light emanating from their headlamps paved the path ahead of them as they bobbed and arced around looking for any sign of life. She hears the faintest sound of gunfire. Meaning that either the one they're chasing moved ahead at a very brisk pace, or Corbin and Teria had found some hostile forces and were engaging them. Judging by how long it took for her and Luka to move out to the location they're at now, both situations might be true.

Luka watched the darkness nervously, her flashlight lighting up the coridoor. To the side of her, through one of the doors, she heard the sound of stone bouncing across stone. Turning, she scanned the room from the door, slowly moving her pistol's sights around the room.

Andrea hears the second set of footsteps stop. She turns around slowly to check on Luka's pace to see she is scanning a room next to them. "Contact?" Andrea asks in a whisper. She begins to move up to the side of the door Luka is looking through.

Luka didn't respond, her full attention was on the room in front of her. A faint skitter, followed by a twitch of her arm and several shots from her magnum, the flash briefly illuminating the rest of the room. She paused, before 'tut'ing in annoyance and running through the room and into an adjoining one.

Andrea watches Luka's actions with a confused expression on her face. It'd be easier to just leave her. She thinks before following her into the room, and then the adjoining room. Would she really leave a fellow Spartan to their own devices in an area that is not totally secure? That's up for debate. In this instance, no, because more numbers makes for a better survival chance.

With the last of the grunts dead, Peter waited a beat, letting the silence wash in over him and the Spartan. He kept waiting for the sound of heavy feet, alien chatter, and more plasma bolts. In a way, he was almost expecting to be swarmed. "Let's move," he said to the Spartan, when he heard nothing.

He reached corner after corner, following the hallway and bypassing all the doors that came up to greet him. He climbed stairs. Here and there were signs of the battle. Dead marines. Dead Covenant. Scorch marks. Once or twice, he spotted a dead Spartan. But the base was quiet and empty. He didn't know who'd won the battle or where they were now. He just had to find her.

In the next room, Luka fired several more shots, becoming visibly more irritated after each shot. She continued into the next room, and fired several more before her magazine ran dry. Now she was presented with a new challenge; figuring out how to quickly reload with one hand.

Refusing to let up her guard, and feeling slightly intrigued by what on this planet Luka is going after, Andrea keeps following her. She finds another spot to sit behind for cover and watches Luka's movements. Andrea has no idea if there's a camouflaged Elite, that Luka had made a bead on, so she keeps quiet.

Having discovered no easy way to reload, Luka rushed forwards and scanned the room. Whatever she was shooting at had obviously escaped.
"I would like to revise my earlier status report;" She said, "My combat effectiveness is currently closer to 33%."

Andrea removes herself from her cover and walks up to Luka's side. "It's still better than zero." She says confidently. She takes her pistol from her side and offers it to Luka. "I don't know where you came from or who you worked with before all this happened, but I'd like to be in the know when you start shooting at something. Right now, we're a team and we need to stick together to survive this." She says, still looking for what Luka had been shooting at.

Luka accepted the pistol, awkwardly handing Andrea her own.
"I can only inform you of none-classified details," She said, "I am not at liberty to disclose any more information than I've already given you."

Andrea attaches her DMR to her back and awkwardly switches the pistols. "I don't expect you to." She replies calmly. "How about we abandon our current objective for now and focus on getting the power back on. The source of the gunfire will no doubt pop around the corner eventually. It'd be nicer if we could see them and identify them before a misunderstanding happens." She says, wondering if Luka would agree to this improvised course of action.

"My main objective remains the same," She said, "I have received no orders that current circumstances alter this in any way." She paused, thinking to herself for a moment, "However, I believe that securing the generator will be beneficial to this."

Much to Peter's horror, it turned out there was more than the Grunts in the hangars. Well, more than the one squad anyway; The duo moved to the next hangar since the previous one had nothing, a slagged warthog still smoking by the door. Moving to look into the structure, Peter immediately felt himself shit a brick: Inside was more Grunts overseen by a few Elites and the added muscle soon made sense: hovering overhead, working at one of the ships stationed inside was what looked like a floating, fleshy balloon. With little, glowing blue tendrils hanging from underneath.

"Fuck," the Marine said flatly. No luck. Just absolutely no luck, he thought, as the first Elite spotted the Marine and Spartan, quickly saying something in their tongue. Then the grunts began firing just after Peter ducked for cover.

Just before the plasma shots hit, Teria fires up at the balloon like creature, at the very leat causing it to move away and possibly fall a bit. Then he takes cover, his shields nearly drained just in that little hal second of fire. "There is no way to get in there without some serious help," He says to the wall of plasma and needler shots between him and Corbin.

"No shit," Peter yelled. If they didn't lay down some suppressing fire though, those Covies would just march over and swarm them. Poking his rifle around the bend he blindly fired a burst, turning back around to yell into the microphone. "Andrea, Teria and I are pinned at the hangars. Lots of hostiles!"

Teria adds in to the comms. "And we found a ship we think will work!" He stuck his gun around as well to start shooting. He got a few rounds off before it started melting. "Well fuck you too!"

Peter peeked out again to fire, the loud burping sound of his rifle almost drowned out by the hail of plasma and needle fire. Remembering the wreck of the warthog, he said to Teria "Hey, think the turret is still working?"

Andrea reloads the pistol, "I guess this diversion wasn't wasted. We actually managed to get a bit closer to the generator room. Just a couple of more hallways to navigate." She says, looking at her map and her waypoint. Suddenly, her ears are filled with the sound of battle as Corbin and Teria take turns yelling. She can overhear many plasma shots singeing the air and whatever cover they are behind in the background.

She quickly compares her and Luka's position to theirs and finds that they are quite the distance between each other. "Stay calm you two. We'll be there as soon as we can. Just hold out until then, got it?" Andrea replies over communications and then gives Luka an update, "They found transport but it's being blocked off by hostiles. We're going to have to double time it." She says, turning towards a nearby door and rushing out of it, checking each end of the hallway, she gives a thumbs up to Luka and heads right.

He stopped outside one door when a scuttle catches his ears. Slowly, he pulled the door open, keeping the rifle level. A quick burst and the source of the scuttle was dead.

One more closer to securing this facility. Where is she.

He tapped his helmet roughly, trying to get his comm system to work. It was then that he felt the large hole in the side of the helmet. He pulled it off and flung it away in disgust.

Useless now.

Sure, the HUD was still working but without a sealed environment, there was no point.

Luka followed Andrea silently, keeping her pistol readied for any movement that might appear. Occaisionally, she rotated on the spot, scanning behind them as well.

Andrea stops at a corner and peaks around it. Before her was a large hallway with a wall at the end of it. An automated sliding door with broken glass laying at its base is placed on said wall and on either side of this hallway are broken windows separated by foot gaps. She looks to the high ceiling and down the large walls to find matching windows from the bottom row gazing at each other on both sides as well. A second story. As she scans the area, she begins to see light emanating from an unknown source on the second story, until that source walks in front of a broke window. A chicken looking thing, known as a Jackal, presents itself.

They got into the generator room? She thinks briefly, "I've got visual on a Jackal. Unknown if he has any friends, at the current moment." Andrea notifies Luka.

Teria could only stand there in disbelief. Orders were to hold this position, or at least stay alive, and he had no gun. He could always throw Corbin at the enemy, tossing a hunk of anything of that size and weight would do some damage, but Corbin would also no longer be an ally and would likely object to that idea. Corbin had an idea about the warthog, but it wasn't in any position to shoot through the doorway, and even if it was he or Corbin would likely get shot trying to do so. "Let's give it a shot!" He shouted, breaking from the wall and running towards the wrecked vehicle. "If any get through fall back!" he shouted as he vaulted a piece of rubble, taking a few glancing shots of plasma as he did so. His shields dipped dangerously low and a few stray needle shots almost took down his only real protection.

"I'll cover you!" Corbin said. He was running low on ammo though; his shredder rounds were definitely gone, so he switched to the armor piercing though he only had two magazines left. "Running low!"

"See if you can take anything from my gun!" He shouted, tossing the slagged remains of his assault rifle over to where Corbin was standing. The barrel and electronics housing were gone, melted together in one big heap of junk. Least the mag was usable, hopefully. Teria got closer to the Warthog, unaffected by the dead soldiers next to the machinery. He climbed up and started checking it over, the knowledge of the magazine and chambering process coming to him without thought

Yeah I'll check when they stop firing, Peter thought stubbornly. There was always the one grenade he had but....he couldn't tell if there was any heavy munitions around the Covies or not; tossing a grenade in there could blow more than the aliens up.

Another three jackals present themselves as they pass on the second floor in front of the windows. Andrea's heart drops in her stomach for a brief second before her mind beats it back up into place. She observes their situation. If they ran for one of the broken windows on their floor, they would no doubt run into resistance as soon as they pass through, but their cover situation would be better than what they have now.

However, if they were to alert the snipers and take them out quickly, they could continue their potshots on the covenant on the inside of their floor's generator room and if things got too hairy, they could fall back and continue their guerrilla tactics that way.

"Three more snipers, do we run for it or take them here?" Andrea updates her previous statement and gives Luka the options Andrea had come up with.

Luka stayed quiet, examining the room from behind Andrea. Without a word, she brough her pistol scope up and hovered over the Jackal's head.
"If we syncronise our first shots, we can halve their number before the firefight starts."

Andrea nods and aims her own pistol at the large alien turkey's freakish head that wasn't claimed by Luka, and begins a countdown from three. "3... 2... 1..." Her finger slams the trigger and a bullet fires from the weapon with a loud bang. The target collapses like a sack of potatoes before it even has a chance to react.

Well if nothing else, the switch to armor piercing was helping whittle down the Grunts. The heavier rounds punched through their armor, and the ones that didn't go straight through deflected off the inside of the armor and bounced around inside like BB's in a can. But the real problem was the Elites.

It was like ship to ship combat between the UNSC and the Covies: their shields could take the brunt of the fire and allowed them to close range and keep up the deadlier stream of plasma. The wall Peter was hiding behind glowed white hot before melting like wax, his cover gone and forcing him back, reduced to spray and pray bursts. "Teria whatever you're gonna do do it now!" he screamed.

Corbin suddenly screamed, one of the remaining Grunts finally nailing him with a needler, the pink/purple shard hitting him in the lower leg. Even with the adrenaline....it went without saying, that that hurt.

As Corbin dropped, the sound of metal grinding on metal could be heard, and then a loud repeating boom that seemed to echo around several times over until it started repeating itself to a staccato, a rapid fire beat of death. Teria had managed to get the turret to bear, the melting of the wall actually being somewhat helpful, kinda. It allowed an angle for the Spartan to fire through, if somewhat awkward. While the ammo drum was relatively fine and the weapon arm was sturdy, the rest of the Warthog was fairly bent and melted, making it difficult to turn. That problem was solved with some good old fashioned elbow grease. Or in this case, the Spartans two legs propped almost sideways against the side of the wreckage, pushing his entire body weight into the back half of the gun while his hands awkwardly held the triggers. It's a good thing he didn't need to use any kind of manual sight, as his head was tilted nearly 45 degrees to the gun, the only thing helping him keep his aim being the HUD reticule.

A steady stream of bullets answered the plasma, chewing apart any exposed alien flesh in his sights and tearing holes in armor. The Elites who thought they could advanced suddenly found themselves under a new onslaught, a new attack from a much bigger gun. A gun that didn't really care much about shields. A gun that quite frankly ate shields for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Maybe one Elite survived the gunfire, bleeding and wounded and crawling away to safety with his weapon dropped. Teria only let go once his reticule was no longer red. The barrel was red hot, the end of it steaming and the generator winding down to a halt. "Corbin! Status!" Teria shouted, not moving from the gun yet.

"FUBAR!!" the marine yelled, a statement emphasized by the fact that the crystalline shard detonated. His leg barely held together due to the armor, but even then it was practically hamburger. He wasn't going to be walking any time soon, that was for sure, with more of the crystalline shards now pierced into his leg. "They fucked up my leg."

"Bleeding?!" Teria replied, still not moving just yet. He had no other gun besides this one, and if an enemy hiding from the motion sensors appeared while he went to help Corbin they'd be sitting ducks for fire. "Andrea. Corbin and I need backup. Corbin is down and needs assistance." He radioed, his voice about as curt and quick as possible, like the sound from a typewriter."

"Bleeding is a definite," Corbin growled. "Dammit, got any bio-foam on ya?" Just a canister of the stuff would do, be enough to stop the bleeding and deal with the pain.

"I think so. Green can, has a lever on it?" He didn't bother waiting for a response. "I have one of those I think. Can you cover the doorway?" Teria shouted, before making a mad sprint to Corbin

"Pretty sure I can," Corbin said, sitting up with gritted teeth. He was on his last mag, but he kept it trained on the doorway in case there was anymore hostiles.

With a grinding slide and an eye on his motion tracker, Teria stopped next to Corbin. He pulled out the can, a little damaged but hopefully effective, and basically jammed it into Corbin's leg, hitting the lever.

There was of course that initial shock of pain at having the tube jammed into his wounded leg. But then the foam was released.....and then the pain skyrocketed. It was like fire-ants crawling all over the meat of his bloody leg, stinging him all over. Corbin gritted his teeth in pain and made a pained groaning sound, before finally the pain ebbed a bit. "Thanks," he gasped. "Still not gonna be able to walk but hey, at least I won't bleed to death."

"Better than me using you as a living rock. Want me to carry you? I promise to try to not bang your leg on anything hard, sharp, or explosive." Teria replied, an absolute dry tone as he looked towards the melted and now bullet-scared doorway.

Glowering at the Spartan, he said "Fine. But if we survive this, not a single Marine or ODST can know."

"I won't tell anyone unless I forget that I promised." Teria promised honestly. The blue armored soldier knelt down at an angle, positioning his arms so Corbin could just sort of fall into place.

Loathing the situation, Corbin grabbed onto the Spartan's armor, fingers hooked into the grooves of the suit. "Let's hope there's no more aliens," he said. "This'll get awkward..."