The dropship skimmed over a snowy mountain top. Inside the ship were 30 fully armed and armored killing machines code named, Spartans. The dropship lost altitude as it hit an air pocket but it quickly caught and righted itself.
Alex sat in the uncomfortable seat and looked at his assault rifle. He noticed the ammo counter was at zero on his heads-up-display. He slapped a fresh clip into the reciever and watched the counter go to 60. Perfect, he thought.
"Okay, ladies and gents! These alien scum planned a picnic down there and you're all invited. Now down to business. The Marine Corps 4th Infantry and the 56th Armored division are trying to hold off. They can't," the Sergeant yelled over the roar of the engines. "So that's where you come in. You're going to land just 2 clickes North of the position and get there to reinforce them."
The dropship cleared another mountain and revealed a nightmare. Fire and explosions blanketed the landscape. The once tranquil and desolate snow covered ravine was now a battlefield. A corpse strewn, hot battlefield.
"Any opposition where we land?" A Spartan asked fingering her trigger.
"Of course there is. What? You didn't think we'd let you have some fun?" the Sergeant replied. The sun was setting but the remaining rays illuminated the inside holding area. The light was reflected off of the olive drab panels of armor.
"Okay. I see the LZ. Load up and kill a few of the bastards for me," the pilot said over the communications line. The hatch of the Pelican dropship blew open and glided down to the ground. The Spartans stood up all at once. They looked majestic. Their armor shining. They looked like gods. The orange, faceless visors on their helmets made them even more terrifying.
"3...2...1. Go, go, go!" the Sergeant yelled. One by one the Spartans jumped from the Pelican. They all spread eagled and opened their parachutes. Alex's wouldn't open and neither would his emergency chute. He hit the ground. Hard.
