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"Understood. Lipton out."
The Major cut the COM channel and turned back to Sergeant Major Antares and nodded in the direction of the city.
"Let's go."
They would need to make really good time. It was a shame they hadn't been shot down over the city. Why they hadn't just placed them in drop pods and shot them toward the medical station? He didn't know, but that was what he would have preferred to do. Of course they wouldn't risk that. Too dangerous for officers. It was really a load of bull-s**t and he had no time or use for it. He wanted, needed, to be in the field with other men, doing his goddamn job. What use was he if he was stuck out in the middle of some jungle?

[Elsewhere]

The tunnel had been dark and full of rats, but it sure as hell beat swimming. The armored figure walked toward two Marines sitting and staring out across the bridge. A female marine holding a BR-55 Battle Rifle stared off toward the opposite end of the bridge, panting as though she was injured, though no visible wounds could be seen. She was probably just scared.
"It blew right through us! .50 cal, rockets, didn't do a thing."
She said in a somewhat hopeless tone.
A Pelican arched through the air and hovered close by. A M808B Scorpion MBT was attached to the back via magnetic clamps. The clamps disengaged and the tank fell to the ground with a metallic thump. Sergeant Major Avery Junior Johnson hopped out of the Pelican, landed on the tank, and hopped down to the ground. He walked over to the chief and the two Marines.
"Where's the rest of your platoon?"
The Female Marine stood and sighed.
"Wasted Sarge."
The other, a man quite out of breath started forward.
"And we will be too if we don't get the hell outta here!"
Sergeant Johnson placed a hand on the Marine's shoulder.
"You hit Marine?"
The man swallowed hard but spoke up.
"N-no sir."
Johnson took a puff on his cigar then spoke.
"Then listen up! The Chief is gonna jump in this tank, roll across the bridge, and blow up any inhuman son-of-a-b***h dumb enough to get between him and the Prophet of Regret! Pull yourself together, 'cause you're goin' with him!"
"What about the Scarab?" inquired the Female marine.
"We've all run the simulations! They're tough, but they ain't invincible. Stay with the Master Chief! He'll know what to do."
Sergeant Johnson turned back to the Pelican and climbed in.
He never gets me anything.> Cortana said in a slightly playful tone.
Sergeant Johnson armed the Pelican's M241GPMG and chuckled.
"Oh I know what the ladies like."
The Pelican gained altitude and flew off as Spartan-117 climbed into the driver's seat of the tank.

Inside New Mombasa

Spartan 103 moved through rubble and a lot of dead bodies until he came close to the city center. Or what was at one time the city center. Now it was the command post for the remainder of E Company, 506th MIR, 901st MID. He was here because he would have an easier time doing his job of killing Covenant if he had allies around him. While Spartans were arguably the best single soldiers in the UNSC, nothing beat the tenacity of the UNMC. Especially when their home world was in danger.

Morgan looked at the forces trying to take him out. He could visually confirm eight grunts, three elites, six jackals. He tagged them on his Hud then sent it to the rest of Nobody. Keying into his squad COM, he asked cooly, "Mephisto, confirm additional targets."
"Sir, one unmarked grunt, two unmarked elites. Firing."
The sound of four shots from a sniper rifle sounded, and from inside the debris of another building, Captain Hunter could easily identify a fountain of blood spill from it, followed by three bodies.
"Tangos down sir."
Morgan only clicked his COM in reply, popping out from his cover and spraying a full clip into the exposed Covenant. He saw as three grunts, an elite, and a jackal smash into the ground. The rest took cover.
"Archangel! Arm your Jackhammer and take em' out now!" Morgan called over the SquadCOM. He was answered with a rocket streaking out of the window one story above him, smashing into the Covenant's hiding spot. Grinning in approval, Morgan called back into the COM, "Baal, Diablo, clear the room on my mark."
Five seconds passed by, and nothing came out of the building.
"Mark."
Diablo and Baal rushed from their cover into the building. The only sound heard was a burst of automatic rifle fire and Diablo and Baal rushing back to their location. "Sir, all Covenant forces have been dealt with." was Diablo's reply to the silence.
"Good job, let's hook up with Sergeant Graves."
He was given four nods of approval.
"Sergeant Graves, ETA to rendezvous, 00:06:38, meet you there son. Desperado out."

[ Old Urban District ]
Spartan-108 had few enemies to deal with. Only a trio of grunts, and an angry elite. Logan responded to his foul greeting with his SAW emptying the rest of it's clip into them. He hopped over the downed Seraph, and scavenged them. Two plasma grenades, a plasma pistol, and a plasma rifle were added to his small but growing collection. He turned on his heel, then remembered the HQ that they were supposed to meet up at. Seems like that wouldn't be a problem. He'd aid Lieutenant Mendez first, since it did require that all CO's be there. He gripped his Squad Assault Weapon, and for the first time in years, felt the exhilaration of battle reach him. Sprinting as fast as he could, he aimed to catch with the Private and aid his fellow warrior.

"Understood,sir. Be advised there is a heavy Covenant resistance gathering on the out skirts of town. The bastards are well armed and determined as hell to kill everything in their path. I'm on my way to the redevous point." A few plasma bolts splashed across his cover and caused the ground to glass over. "Damn it! I'm getting to that Goddamn point and I aint ganna die. See you there. Graves out"

Jericho stumbled over a root as Lipton led the way toward New Mombasa. He had a feeling he was missing a whole lotta action. He dismissed this, though, as he took a long drag from the clove cigarette and licked his lips, savoring the flavor. First cigarettes he had ever tasted. He kept a weather eye out for anything else that didn't belong in the environment, but found no other hanging men, or sneaking covies

Jericho put out the cigarette on the palm of his glove and left it in an ammo pocket as he unholstered his M6C, slid out the magazine, and checked ammo. It was just something he always did. As he expected, the back of the magazine showed 12 rounds, and he knew there was one in the barrel. He flicked the safety off and started up a pile of rubble for a better vantage point. He couldn't see any spent shell casings or still smoldering plasma burns. he assumed if there had been a fight here, it had quickly moved to the inner-city. He looked around apprehensively, thinking that something must still be here, but he shook his head, as if the idea could be shaken out.
"Hey, Lip. Whaddyou think is goin' in this humble business district?"

"Good lord another Spartan. When will these blessings ever cease?" Lipton said aloud at the call. He was glad to know that at least humanity still had Spartans on their side.
He heard Antares comment though it didn't register for a moment. He gazed out upon what had, at one time, been the center of a thriving city. New Mombasa had expanded onto cliffs, and they now stood on the edge of one. This explained why they were within the five mile signal range and only a mile or two out of the city. It was mostly concentrated below and around them. He could see plumes of smoke and fire working their way toward the sky, clouding the air with soot and ash. Fires ran rampant among the streets, tracing a line of color along a backdrop of gray and black. He could see Marine and Covenant forces alike, moving and maneuvering, trying to find the best way to kill each other. He looked up and gazed into the belly of the Covenant Assault Carrier. The radiant purple beam of the gravity lift cut the air like a biblical pillar of fire. And in the middle of it all, stood the space elevator. The giant tower that reached to the heavens. It was as though humanity had finally achieved Nimrod's ancient dream of creating the tower of Babel. It was an impressive sight, even more so when viewed next to a Covenant carrier. It was inspiring to see a human structure dwarf a Covenant vessel. Giving hope that humanity still had strength. He was shaken from his thoughts by the rumbling of the Earth. A mushroom cloud rose over the city, spreading the remains of human and Covenant warriors through the sky. It was not a nuclear detonation, he was sure of that, but it had been an impressive explosion. He looked for a way down to the elevation of the City center and saw nothing.
"Personally sergeant, I could care less at the moment. How would you suggest we get down there?"

"Enough C-12 to level a block maybe."
Lipton moved away from the cliff edge and started to look for anything that remotely resembled as Subway entrance. He preferred walking to jumping, but hell, if worst came to worst, he could still make the climb.
"Maybe we shouldn't have ditched our chutes." He said with a small chuckle.
In the distance, back where they had come, he noticed an increasing Covenant air threat. It looked like they were searching for something. That was when he spotted it. A sign that pointed to a subway terminal. The best part was that the sign was still standing. Of course there was all sort of s**t in the path specified, but he didn't care. To be underground and not under the constant threat of getting vaporized by Banshees and being on somewhat equal ground was a very inviting idea. He pushed himself to search for the entrance and was dismayed when he realized that a building was sitting on top of it. And not just any building, a building in lockdown. The front doors were closed shut, and they were made of metal, not glass, so they couldn't just shoot their way in. He looked around for any other way down and didn't find anything promising.
"s**t."
He saw one way into the building, but that was through the air vents, which were thankfully not running. Unfortunately they were about a story and a half above them. This day was just getting better and better.