Chapter 5 is a short one, but here it is [b]Chapter Five 1000 Hours, May 17, 2523 (Military Calendar) Sol System, Planet Earth, Quantico Marine Academy[/b] Second Lieutenant Matthew Simmons sat on a low stonewall as he watched the Academy’s freshman walk to their classes. He was playing chess with his best friend, Amacus Ermo. Amacus had been top in their class at everything; no one could beat him. Except at fencing, Amacus was good, but Simmons was the best, he knew his way around a sword. Of course this meant nothing to the professors at the Academy, Amacus was still considered the best recruit since Admiral Cole. Simmons wondered why he had agreed to play chess with Amacus, because he always lost. Simmons looked down at the board, it was made of marble, and the pieces were pure gold. The set had been Amacus’ graduation present, whereas Simmons was given nothing. He didn’t care; his parents were the reason he was a UNSC Marine. They were the reason his brother was a pilot. They both wanted to get away. Simmons surveyed the board. He moved his knight to take Amacus’ bishop. “Check,” he said, satisfied with the move. Amacus smiled, and then moved his rook and took the knight. “ Checkmate,” he said with a smile. Simmons let out an explicative that caught the attention of the passerby. He looked away from them and at the board. He tried to figure out a move to escape, but there was none. Simmons had not even seen that rook. Amacus laughed at Simmons feeble attempts to find a move. “ You may think its funny, but one day I’ll be better than you at something,” Simmons told him, but he didn’t believe it. Amacus put the pieces away and folded up the board. He placed the set in his bag and they walked to the mess hall. Simmons grabbed his meal and sat down at an available table. Amacus arrived a short time later. Simmons looked over Amacus’ shoulder. There was a girl at the table over; she had long black hair, and emerald eyes. Amacus turned around to see what Simmons was looking at. When he saw the girl he smiled and turned to Simmons, “ Thoughts like that will get you in trouble, my friend,” he said warningly. A boy sat down next to the girl and she kissed him. Simmons looked away from the site. “ You’re right,” he said, resisting the temptation to look at the girl. “ And would you mind telling me when I’m not, because I am clueless to when that might be,” Amacus joked. “ My guess would be never,” Simmons told them. A man sat down next to Amacus at the table, “Amacus, Simmons,” he said, they both nodded to him. It was Fred Peterson, an Ensign in the navy. “ Just thought I’d drop by before I was deployed,” he told them. “What ship are you going out on?” Simmons asked. “ The Cherokee,” he told him. “Well I hope we see you soon,” Amacus said to him. Fred looked at his watch and rushed off. Simmons finished his meal and scanned the mess hall. The girl was gone, and her friend was sitting alone. Simmons noticed a woman walking toward their table. There was something unexplainable about her that attracted Simmons. She had an aura of brilliance. She stopped two feet from their table, and Amacus looked at her, Simmons thought he noticed they same look in his eye from he had earlier, when looking at the girl behind him. “Hello,” the woman said to them, Simmons instantly knew he would like her, “My name is Doctor Catherine Halsey,” [Edited on 10/10/2005]

He passed through several corridors before entering an elevator. Once it stopped Simmons walked into the weapons locker. It had been upgraded for Simmons’ mission; it contained over one hundred MA5B assault rifles, there were crates of M9 HE-DP fragmentation grenades, and there was a large locker labeled “Rockets”. Simmons walked over to the MA5Bs, he grabbed one that was modified. He attached ten clips to his vest and walked over to the crates of grenades. He attached a few to his belt. He saw an unmarked locker and opened it; there were ten M90 shotguns. Simmons grabbed one and slung it on his back, and then he placed two boxes of shells in his drop bag. Just then the rest of the platoon walked in. most went over to the rack of assault rifles, but some went towards other lockers. O’Donnell walked over to the rockets. He hefted one of the large launchers and grabbed a crate of extra ammunition. He grabbed an MA2B and placed it in his drop bag. Private Hanks walked over to the Lotus anti tank mines. He placed two in his bag, and then grabbed a shotgun. Simmons looked for the platoon’s sniper team. The spotter, Private Sanchez, had a laser sight in one hand, and a MA5B in the other. The Sniper, Private Allison, was customizing his S2 AM sniper rifle. He was the platoon’s only sniper, but he was all they needed, he could make a shot from anywhere. He certainly deserved the call sign “Omnipresent”. Allison seemed happy with his rifle and proceeded to grab an extra M6C and a handful of clips. Dominique walked over to Simmons; he was armed to the teeth. He had an M90 slung on his back, like Simmons, but he also had a Jackhammer rocket launcher, two M6Cs, ample clips of ammunition, and a knife attached to his boot. His drop bag looked like it contained thirty boxes of shotgun shells. Simmons could not believe Dominique could walk. He grabbed a combat knife from the table and handed it to Simmons. “ You might need this,” he told him, be fore departing for the HEV pods. Simmons waited for everyone to clear the weapons locker. What was once enough firepower to supply a small army was now almost empty. There were only have as many rifles, the shotguns were all gone, and the crates of grenades were empty. Simmons walked out of the now deserted room and walked to his HEV pod. Satisfied that everyone was ready, Simmons snapped on his helmet and entered his pod. [Edited on 8/14/2005]

sorry, the rest didn't fit [Edited on 8/14/2005]

[b]Chapter Four 1900 Hours, January 16, 2525 (Military Calendar), Richter System, Richter VII, Camp Ulysses Brig[/b] Simmons first mission was a complete success. He was commemorated with the Combat Action ribbon, and the UNSC oversystem service ribbon, he wore them proudly as he walked into the Camp’s brig. He was checked by two MPs before entering, and then two more once inside. The brig usually had about ten MPs on duty. Today there were at least thirty. And they were all armed with both MA2B assault rifles and M6C pistols. Simmons passed into the interrogation room. There were two ONI officers and three MPs. “ You requested my presence, Sir,” he said to the senior ONI, a Captain. “ Are you the man who was in charge of the raid at 0300 Hours?” he asked “ Yes, sir” Simmons told him. “ Figures,” the other ONI, a Lieutenant, said. Simmons forgot about etiquette and turned to the man. “ What does that mean?” Simmons asked him. The senior officer threw the other man a cold look. “ It means nothing Lieutenant,” the Captain said. “ Now we are here to interrogate this prisoner and I would like to do so” he said, turning to the rebel. His shoulder was heavily bandaged and his long black hair was tangled and matted. Simmons knew just by looking at him that he hated this man instantly. “ Do you mind telling me why this man, who was supposed to captured without personal injury was shot?” the Captain asked Simmons. “ The blame is mine, he was about to shoot one of my men, and I was forced to act,” Simmons said, he thought he had done the right thing during the firefight, but this man said he did not. The Lieutenant in the corner s-blam!-ed again. “ Lieutenant if it need be I can have you thrown from this room, and placed in a cell of your own,” the Captain said, this time to the ONI officer. The man coughed and straightened up. “ Now, Mr. Depp,” the Captain said, turning to the rebel. “ Do you mind telling me, oh, I know its so clichéd, where is the rebel base, and what are your secret plans?” The man gave a mirthless laugh, and looked straight at the Captain, “ Our base is everywhere,” he said, smiling, “ and our plans are to shoot anything with the letters UNSC on them,” the man said, now cackling. The Captain smacked the man in the face, and he stopped smiling. “ Be more specific, please,” he told the rebel. Simmons looked with interest on the scene at hand, had he not just seen harassment, then again, did this man deserve more than what he was receiving. “ Lieutenant,” the Captain said to Simmons, “ You’re services are no longer needed,” he said, as two of the MPs came towards Simmons. He shrugged them off with ease and walked towards the door. Simmons sat on his cot reviewing the briefing he was given before his mission. Nowhere did it say Depp could not be harmed, only that he was wanted alive. Why had the officer in the brig been concerned if no one else was? Just than Simmons heard a loud thump, as though an explosion had occurred on the base. But no such tests were scheduled today. Reacting instinctively, Simmons grabbed his M6C off his dresser and holstered it, and he ran out of his barracks towards the explosion. He sprinted faster than anyone else, and arrived there first. Two rebels had set off an antitank mine and where now fleeing. Simmons grabbed his sidearm and cocked it. He aimed, and shot the man on the left in the calf, he stopped running and fell, clutching his leg. Simmons remembered what the ONI Captain had said about personal injury to prisoners, and decided to chase the second man. The rebel had about a two hundred meter head start, it didn’t take Simmons more than half a minute before he overtook the man and brought him to the ground. He pinned him and looked around for the other rebel, he was about fifty yards back and being taken to the brig by two MPs. Simmons saw two more MPs running towards him and he let the rebel go. The MPs took the prisoner away, and Simmons started towards his barracks. Before he arrived there O’Donnell ran up to him. “ You’re wanted at headquarters, Sir,” O’Donnell told him. “ Thanks,” Simmons said to him as he rushed towards his Warthog, he hoped in the driver’s seat and drove towards Headquarters. Headquarters was a large building hewn into the side of Mount Ulysses. It looked like an oversized barracks from the outside, but inside there were five meters of Titanium A Plating on the walls, and over twenty MPs guarding the single elevator that traveled into the center of mount Ulysses. Simmons had to take a fingerprinting scan, a retinal scan, and a DNA scan before being allowed into the elevator. He was escorted by two of the MPs inside the elevator, which slowly made its ascent. When the elevator finally stopped he was escorted to the receptions desk. A corporal sat at the desk, she had dark green eyes, and her beautiful long black hair flowed. Simmons suppressed these thoughts; they would lead to nothing but trouble. The MPs left and Simmons handed his identification to her and she signaled him into the room on the left. He walked in and saluted the Colonel sitting at his desk. The room was in half shadow and Simmons could not read the man’s rank or see his face, but the plaque on his desk said Col. Hastert. The Colonel saluted in the shadows and picked up a cigar, he lit it and started to smoke it. “ You wanted to see me, Sir?” Simmons asked. “ Yes, I did,” said the Colonel, he leaned out of the shadows and Simmons could see his face, he was the officer who flew down with him on the pelican. “ It turns out your recent mission,” he glanced at Simmons new medals, “ has won you some acclaim,” he told Simmons. “ The success of the mission lies solely with my men, Sir,” Simmons said. “ Of course it does,” the Colonel replied, “ but was it not you who captured Depp, were you not the one who stopped any use of rockets against you’re men?” the Colonel asked. “Well, yes,” Simmons started to contradict him, but he stopped; he saw the Colonel’s point. “Yes, Sir, I was,” Simmons told him. “ Well than I would say all congratulations should go to you Lieutenant,” the Colonel told Simmons, “ but congratulations are not why you are here. You are here to receive your orders for your next mission. The ONI spooks were able to break Mr. Depp, and we have discovered the location of the rebels operation.” “ That is good news, Sir, but what does it have to do with my next mission?” “ It is your next mission, Lieutenant, your platoon is going to drop in to the rebel location, capture the rebel leader, and then kill anything that moves,” the Colonel said, he puffed on his cigar and smoke filled the room. “ Do you understand your mission lieutenant?” he asked as he took another puff. “ Yes, Sir, I do,” Simmons told him, “ When you say drop?” “ Yes, Simmons when I say drop I mean HEV pods, you will rendezvous with the UNSC frigate Petersburg and then drop in, you will be picked up by Pelicans and flown back here.” The Colonel pulled open a drawer in his desk. He grabbed a cigar and a data pad. “ This first thing,” he said, indicating the data pad, “ contains all the information you need. The second,” this time indicating the cigar, “ is for a job well done,” he winked, “ and I hope we can enjoy one together soon.” The Colonel puffed his Cigar, “ Dismissed,” Simmons saluted him and walked out of the room. He took the long journey back to his Warthog and then drove back to his barracks. He pulled his Warthog into its spot and entered the barracks; he slipped out of his dress uniform and placed his M6C on top of his dresser, he got on his cot and went to sleep. [b]0500 Hours, January 18, (Military Calendar) Richter System, Richter VII, Camp Ulysses[/b] Simmons awoke as his alarm went off. He dressed quickly and grabbed all his gear. He holstered his M6C and opened the door out of his quarters. He walked to his Warthog, to see O’Donnell and the Sergeant already in the passenger seat and the gunner position. “All right we can move out,” the Dominique said as Simmons hoped into the driver’s seat and drove towards the airfield. When they arrived they saw five Pelicans being prepped for takeoff. Simmons parked his Warthog at the edge of the airfield and he and Dominique walked towards their Pelican. O’Donnell walked over to his squad’s pelican. The pilot was entering the cockpit, but Simmons could see the name Charles on his flight suit. Simmons and Dominique jumped in to the back of the pelican. He accessed the COM panel at the front of the Pelican’s bay and opened a channel to the other pelicans. “ Is everybody ready for dust off?” he asked. “ Yes, Sir we are,” O’Donnell said over the COM. The four other squad leaders replied and Simmons gave the Pilot a thumb up through the window into the cockpit. The back hatch closed and they took off. Simmons inspected the drop ship, Dominique was the only other occupant, but there were crates supplies going up to the Petersburg where the other row of crash seats should have been. No voice came from the cockpit. Apparently Charles had received a new copilot. They experienced turbulence again as they went through Richter VII’s atmosphere. Simmons looked through the window to the cockpit. He could see the Petersburg through the front view screen; the four other pelican’s were behind them. The pelican entered the frigate’s hangar, and the back hatch opened, and three men walked in and started carrying the crates out of the drop ship. Simmons grabbed his gear headed for the Petersburg’s weapons locker. [Edited on 10/10/2005]

thanks for your support, i hope to have the new chapter( if not more) by tommorrow, because writing this is all i am doin, so keep tuning in, please. [Edited on 9/24/2005]

Yeah, its really good so far, the only thing i can see so far is that "O'Donnel" is an Irish Name, not Scottish, the Scottish Equivalent would be "McDonnel" or "McDonald", but thats really a nitpick, its really good. Regards, Ronnie

Thats really good, hope to see the next chapter soon!

No one else has replied, but i wrote another chapter so here it is- ( and no, Simmons Is not -blam!- [b]Chapter Three 0700 Hours, January 15, 2525 (Military Calendar)/ Richter System, Planet Richter VII, Camp Ulysses[/b] Simmons Walked up to his Platoon’s barracks, outside were two MPs. As he walked up they asked for his identification, Simmons knew you didn’t need identification to enter a barracks and became suspicious. He noticed they had no insignia, and knew it was a trap. He acted like he was reaching for his papers, and then smacked the first man in the jaw, which shattered, and the man fell to the ground unconscious. The second man attempted to un-holster his weapon. Simmons grabbed his wrist and twisted, breaking the man’s bones. Simmons grabbed the discarded pistol and pressed the barrel of the gun to the man’s chin. “Explain yourself!” he roared. Before the trembling man could answer the door opened and a Sergeant walked out. His dark black skin reflected the sunlight like a mirror. The name Dominique was stitched on his fatigues. Simmons turned to him, his temper flaring. “ Why was I attacked?” He demanded. “ Looks to me like you did all the attacking,” the Sergeant said jokingly. Simmons dropped the ODST and pointed the gun at the Sergeant. “Answer my question, soldier,” Simmons said “ It just our way of saying hello,” the Sergeant said jokingly, a crowd had gathered behind him. “ Let me show you mine,” Simmons said, he dropped the pistol and punched the sergeant hard. He flew back into the arms of a Private. “ And you don’t want to see how I say goodbye,” Simmons told him, this time cracking a smile. Simmons walked back to his quarters and got out his data pad, there was a message on it. [b]UNSC Transmission 23445D-65 Encryption Code: Green Public Key: File /excised access Charlie From: Colonel Hastert, CO Camp Ulysses To: First Lieutenant Matthew Simmons Subject: First Mission[/b] [i]/Start file/ Lieutenant you first mission will take place tomorrow at 0300 hours. You will be briefed at 0100 Hours at Briefing Room 1 /End file/[/i] [b]0300 Hours, January 16, (Military Calendar) Richter System, Planet Richter VII, Outskirts Of Camp Ulysses[/b] Simmons dropped one more clip of ammunition for his MA5B Assault Rifle into his backpack before slipping it on. Then he got in the passenger seat of his Warthog and inspected his rifle. Most of the men seemed unhappy that they were not dropping in HEV pods, Simmons didn’t know why; they were unsafe and apparently very uncomfortable. Lance Corporal O’Donnell jumped into the Driver’s seat, and Private Hanks got into the gunner’s position. Simmons put on his helmet and his HUD flickered to life. He had a motion tracker, an ammunition counter and five acknowledgment lights, one for every squad leader and his Sergeant. “ Status,” Simmons said, and the five lights turned blue, then faded into darkness. Simmons’ mission was to ride into a known rebel hideout, capture a rebel operative and bring him back to base. There were ten regular warthogs with three men each, the other twenty men piled into two “pickup” warthogs with extended beds that sat twelve each, these warthogs would carry the prisoner. Simmons watch showed 0301 Hours, and it was time to go. “Let’s roll!” he said to O’Donnell, who then put his foot on the accelerator and the convoy followed. Simmons marveled at what a force he had with him, as the dust from the tires flew into a cloud above them and drifted into the morning sky. The chain guns on these vehicles were enough firepower to blanket an area big enough to clear an LZ that would fit land fives pelicans with ease, which could add over a hundred men to the battle, but Simmons knew that wouldn’t be necessary, this mission was a milk run. They drove for over an hour and the sun was starting to rise. They arrive at the staging area one mile from the rebel campsite. Simmons opened a COM channel to his squad leaders. “All right, its show time, Blue team are you in position?” he asked, the first light winked. “ Green team?” another light flicked on “Red team?” the third and fourth lights blinked blue. “Then that just leaves us O’Donnell,” are we in position?” “ Yes, Sir, we are,” O’Donnell told him. Simmons clicked his COM three times; the signal to start, and twelve engines revved and the convoy drove down the hill towards the small campsite. As they got close Simmons saw a man running for a Jackhammer Rocket Launcher. Hanks thumbed the Chain gun’s trigger and the man was stopped in his tracks by a hail of bullets. Simmons had never seen a man killed before, but he expected it to bother him, this didn’t at all, which surprised him. When they reached the camp Simmons jumped out as O’Donnell turned to Circle the base. He thumbed the safety off and fingered the trigger. He turned to see a man picking up the Jackhammer, Simmons pulled the trigger and three bullets tore through the man’s chest, Simmons’ first kill, he was again not affected. He scanned the site, the warthogs had created a perimeter and the pinned down rebels were stuck inside it. Simmons looked for the Rebel leader they were after, he had picked up and out dated M4B rifle and was aiming at O’Donnell, Simmons was forced to shoot, he quickly pulled the trigger, a single bullet escaped the barrel and hurtled toward the man. It impacted in his shoulder and he dropped the rifle screaming in pain. Simmons ran toward him through the crossfire. He leapt over a body and landed at the man’s feet, he pulled him up and turned him around. The man let out another scream as Simmons handcuffed him. Two men ran over to him. Their Friend or Foe tags on Simmons’ HUD identified them as Private Brock and Corporal Grange. They dragged the Rebel to their Pickup Warthog and threw him in. Simmons clicked his COM three times again; the signal to get out of there. O’Donnell drove towards him and Simmons jumped in. Simmons felt strange during the drive back. Not because he was affected by the battle, but rather because he wasn’t, combat was supposed to change a man, why hadn’t he felt any remorse or adrenaline rush. Then he remembered the Spartan program, he had been through too much already to be affected by this. Shrugging this off he opened a COM channel to Sergeant Dominique. “ Wounded count, Sergeant,” he said “ Absolutely zero, except for the bite I received from our prisoner,” he chuckled, “ it was a perfect mission, Sir,” the Sergeant told him. A perfect Mission? What about the rebel casualties, weren’t they men all the same, why were they doomed to die. Simmons decided to leave that one to the Philosophers and congratulate himself, instead. He turned to O’Donnell as they got back and smiled, O’Donnell smiled as well, Simmons felt much more satisfied. [Edited on 10/10/2005]

due to critic's acclaim, on the other post ( which has been deleted) i have added more to the story. Simmons walked into the Cherokee’s Hangar and looked around, there were three pelicans and only five Longsword Fighters, a small force compared to what most UNSC ships carried. He walked to the middle Pelican, which was being prepped for takeoff, he saw three men talking at the rear of the ship, and walked towards them. One of them was the Pilot, the name Charles was printed on his helmet and flight suit. There was a lighting bolt stenciled on his left sleeve, the insignia of the 36th Naval Air Squadron, they were famous for making their drops faster than anyone else. Good, their pilot was assured to be talented at evasive maneuvers, they would need that. The pilot was talking to a an ODST named O’Donnell, he was a lance corporal, and seemed intrigued when Simmons arrived. “ You the Lieutenant goin’ down to the surface?” the pilot asked. “ Yes, I am,” Simmons told him. Next the third man, a colonel, spoke up “ Then I believe we are ready to takeoff, Warrant Officer,” the senior officer told the pilot. Simmons could not believe he had not realized the man was an officer, and snapped a quick salute, which the colonel returned, seemingly indifferent to the breach in etiquette. The Warrant Officer walked into the Cockpit of the Drop ship, and the Colonel and O’Donnell strapped themselves into their crash seats, Simmons followed suit and two Maintenance personnel shut the back hatch, which hissed violently, signaling Atmosphere pressurization. A voice came from the cockpit, seemingly the Copilot’s, “ Welcome to UNSC space lines flight 4311, one way to Richter VII , there will be no in-flight movie, or in-flight meal, and no Stewardess’ are onboard. We hope you enjoy you’re flight.” The Copilot’s mocking tone echoed through the back of the Drop ship as the Lance Corporal cracked a smile, it quickly faded away, as the Drop ship entered Richter VII’s Atmosphere, and the pelican started shaking violently. “ We are now experiencing some turbulence, if there was a seat belt sign it would be turned on, so just don’t get up,” the Copilot shouted back to them. O’Donnell turned to Simmons and looked inquisitively. “ Something wrong, Lance Corporal?” Simmons asked him. “ No, Sir, it’s just I believe you’ve been assigned to my unit, Sir,” O’Donnell told him; he had a thick Scottish accent. “ Well I believe you’re correct, but I don’t think that’s what’s bothering you,” Simmons told him. O’Donnell had thick Brown hair, and his nose appeared to have been broken several times. “ Well, I just, I’ve heard stories, Sir, I was in Cryo the whole time, but people tell me you work out like a machine, that you go to two G’s and lift for hours, no one can do that.” O’Donnell told him, he seemed to be bursting a bubble inside him, and his feelings flowed uncontrollably, a bad sign in a Marine, let alone an ODST. “ Well I won’t lie to you, O’Donnell, I am not weak, and yes I did work out many times this past voyage, but I don’t believe I am a machine.” Simmons said flatly, O’Donnell looked satisfied, but Simmons knew he wasn’t. The turbulence stopped, and the Pelican ride became smoother. The Copilot’s voice sounded again, “ We are about thirty minutes out, and will begin taking evasive maneuvers in ten minutes, if we survive, it should stop in about five minutes.” Simmons hoped he was joking. He wasn’t. They heard flak blast around them, the Pelican moved nimbly between it. The Pilot was certainly talented, and he seemed to be so in control that he could will the flak out of their way. Simmons admired this. He wondered if his Brother, a member of the Twenty-Third Naval Air Squadron, was this good, his brother had been a pilot for three years, and knew nothing of Simmons’ status as a Spartan. Neither did his uncle, Captain of the UNSC frigate Antitem. Simmons could never tell them about SPARTAN, but he knew if they met in person, they would be suspicious. The flak stopped and the ride became smoother, Simmons estimated another fifteen minutes until they reached Camp Ulysses, where he was stationed. Simmons dreaded the landing, he wasn’t fully prepared to meet his Platoon, and the Major’s advice didn’t help. But Simmons knew it would come, and tried to occupy him self with his duffel bag, which had become loose. He reattached it to its hook, then looked at its contents, his spared uniform, clips for his sidearm, and a data pad of information on his platoon. He turned it on and glanced over their surface records, O’Donnell’s was last, it seemed he was to lead Simmons demolitions squad, O’Donnell didn’t seem that type, but Simmons knew not to question HighCom assignments. The Pelican touched down at Camp Ulysses, and the three men exited the back hatch, after being quickly refueled, the Pelican took off. The Colonel walked towards the camp’s Headquarters and O’Donnell started walking towards his barracks, where the rest of Simmons platoon was. Simmons walked to the officers’ quarters and entered his room. The floor was wood paneled, and the entire room smelled of wood stain. It was bare except a cot in one corner, and a dresser in the adjacent corner. Simmons placed his spare Fatigues in the dresser, put his spare ammunition one his belt, and threw his duffel under the Cot, then walked out of the room. He went to headquarters and was given his orders and a Warthog then explored the base in his new Light Reconnaissance Vehicle. The Base was positioned at the foot of a tall mountain, which had many tunnels that were once old mines, now used for storage and a fallback position, in case of overwhelming attack. Simmons doubted that all the Rebels in the UNSC combined could take this camp, which had a Regiment of ODSTs, an entire Naval Air Squadron, and fifteen scorpion tanks, not to mention almost three thousand regular Marines. Simmons doubted that Ulysses would ever fall to the enemy.

wow I love it! more if you please! :)