Here's act 2 of fire and fury-sorry for the long wait-and no-I don't own claymore so don't even ask.

Act 2-Crash Landing

Chapter 4

Location-Lartec Military Command

"Mayday! Mayday! This is leopard craft L7083-we have taken a direct hit to our tail and are going down-coordinates 137,382-to anyone hearing this message we are going down!" The message was suddenly punctuated by a series of loud impacts of metal hitting stone, metal bending and twisting, and finally the sound of the wreckage settling down. The technician working the console jerked back, wincing as he ripped the headphones off his head as the noise overwhelmed him. Shaking his head, he signaled to the supervising officer.

"Sir! One of our birds just went down-don't recognize the pilot though-some woman." The CO nodded, "Can you bring it up on the overhead?" "Yessir!" The tech flipped a few switches and the transmission replayed itself. "Son of a bitch." His cursing caught the tech off guard-his CO normally was a lot cooler-but this was different-they had lost a dozen inbound craft in the past week-more than that over the last couple of months. Dispite their arsenal and armor, the damn things were dropping like flies at a rate no army could afford.

"Do we have a patrol down there?" The tech pulled a clipboard out and began to flip through the papers. "Yeah-scout patrol, and a few Instagators backing up a couple marine units." The officer nodded. "Alright, let's get to it and see if anyone survived before the yoma get to them." The tech flipped toggle his comm link. "To any available patrols, we have downed leopard helo at coordinates 137 north, 382 east. Orders are to check for possible survivors." He didnt let on the fact that the odds of surviving a leopard crash, espcially when being attacked by yoma were slim to none. Several replies came-two separate patrols were moving out-one was light scout unit that had been operating for several days in the field-the other was unit bandit hunting-it seemed that the number of them had gone up since the shit started flying.

xxxxxxx

-Clare-

The first thing she was aware of was the sensation of floating underwater-it was cold...why was it so cold. 'Wait a minuet,' she thought-the claymore opened her mouth to draw breath-and suddenly searing cold filled her lungs as she sucked in a lungful of water.

"GAH!" Clare burst up from the stream she had found herself lying face down in, struggling to the shore, her lungs aching from the cold as she coughed up the water she had swallowed. Her whole body was sore, and was covered in bruises and scratches. Nothing she couldn't handle though...

The rain was still coming down, washing some of the mud that had collected on her. She looked towards the lepard-the majority of the hull had remained intact, although judging by the way it was bent inwards, it would never fly again. The sound of coughing next to her made the claymore jump. "Owww...what the fuck?" Helen rubbed her head, a thin trickle of blood trailing down her face. She looked at Clare, then to herself. "Well, at least we're in one piece." She staggered to her feet, then helped clare up, "Man...did someone get the name of that driver?" The rowdy warrior shook her head, clearly trying to get rid of the aftereffects of the crash.

Turning around, they surveyed the crash site. "Shit," Helen muttered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, "Alright, guess we'd better see if anyone else made it." She made a move-and cursed again. "I don't have my sword." Clare noted that she didn't have a weapon either. "Alright, keep an eye out for anything we can use." She nodded, and the two began to search the wreckage. "Hey! Found something!" A marines helmet, soaked in blood. Helen showed her discovery to her fellow claymore, "Looks like one of them bought the farm."

"Know who it is?" Helen shook her head, and then began to inspect it-bending to pick it up. Then-plop! The both jumped at the sound as a head hit the ground. The marine's face was in a grimace of pain-it wasn't Raki's though-must belong to one of the two gunners. "Great-so one dead, 5 missing." Helen had pointed out the obvious-now then...all that remained was to find them.

xxxxxx

-Miria-

Miria groaned as she picked herself off the floor-and hit her head, the sound of her head hitting metal sounding oddly thought the compartment. She jumped when a flash of light illuminated her surroundings with an audible Pop-and cursed as she hit her head again-then she realized something-the hull of the the leopard was bent inwards. Then shuddered when she realized just how close she had been to becoming claymore al blut. She shook her head, and began to slowly ease her way out.

As she slid out, Miria jumped and reflexively went for a weapon as she felt something grab her ankle. "Hey," A man's voice said, "Now that's not the way to greet a friend, is it?" It was one of the gunners. "Casualty report?" She said, picking her self up as he handed her a shotgun. "Can't say-Brent's dead, but Clarice is missing, and no sign of the rest of your squad." She nodded, and then looked at the weapon he had handed her. "What about you-you hurt?" She heard the marine suck in a breath-and noticed he was favoring one leg heavily. "Little bit-but I'll live; think I twisted my ankle when we hit the ground." She made a note of the faint trickle of blood running down the left leg of his armor. Twisted ankle-right.

"Have you seen my sword?" She asked as she checked the gun. Fully loaded-good. "Nope," he replied, surveying their surroundings, "If its here, then it must of joined poor Brent in the metal sandwich." He jerked his head towards the twisted ruin that was the Leopard. Shaking her head, the captain cocked her weapon-

And realized the marine hadn't given her any additional ammo. "Do you have any extra shells for this?" She asked, indication the gun. "Oh-yeah." He tossed her a bandoleer. "What I could salvage from one of the lockers." He himself had a smaller version of the marine's standard issue rifle. "Left a couple of fletchett guns and some ammo if anyone else survived-normally we have two separate armories on the craft-one on each side-but I can't get to the other one" Well that was obvious.

"Alright, let's go see if we can't find the others." The gunner nodded and both began to search for their missing comrades...

xxxxx

-Clare, Helen-

"Well son of a bitch..." Helen pointed at the two figures who were coming around from the other side of the craft, relief flooding her voice-it was her captain and one of the marines-not the kid, but one of the gunners-he was limping badly, not a good sign. "They did make it." Miria nodded to them-making note of their appearances-Aside from a few tears in her uniform and the fact she was wet-Clare looked fine. Helen on the other hand had a thin trail of blood on her head-and yet despite that was none the worse for wear. "Either one of you armed?" They shook their heads. "There's a couple of Flechett guns in the locker on the other side-we can't get to other locker." They nodded, and Miria watched as they disappeared to the other side-she had made a note of the blood running down the side of Helen's head, and numerous smaller amounts on Clare-looks like they were relatively unharmed. 'Still no sign of our pilot, Deneve, or our marine.' She thought as the pair returned with the heavy pistols, 'half our group is gone.'

"Alright, we have one dead, and three missing." She told them, looking each one of them in the eye, "The others may be dead, or worse..." They could've been captured-there had been reports of marines and claymores being taken prisoner and dragged off to fates unknown. "Our first priority is to try and find them-failing that we need to make contact with command." The marine shook his head-"Tried that, but the radio's fried, and our helmet coms are only good for short range." Miria nodded-then checked her own helmet. "Alright, make sure your radios are on and have full magazines in those weapons." she turned and signaled them to follow, and then gave the order:

"Move out!"

xxxxxx

Chapter 5

"Anyone besides me notice that the yoma that hit us didn't follow the Leopard down?" Helen asked in a casual, off-hand voice. "You noticed that too?" The gunner seemed just a little nervous by the claymore's statement of the all-too-obvious fact that the yoma hadn't attacked them when they crashed-something they all had noticed. "You don't think that-"

"Don't even say it." Helen snapped at the marine before he could finish his sentence-it was clear that he was about to say what they were all thinking-that the others had been grabbed. "I'm sure their just fine-now let's keep moving-we're bound to run into a patrol or something..." Miria said in an attempt to try and keep morale up, but Helen and the gunner had made a very good point-they hadn't been attacked when the hit the ground-which meant either the yoma were too stupid to investigate the potential source of food-or...

Or they had been called off. Either way-this did not bode well for them. 'And I have a feeling its going to get worse from here.' She thought, a wave of apprehension hitting her as she led her team through the forest.

xxxxx

-Deneve-

Pain lanced through her abdomen as she pulled the huge sword out of her gut. 'Damn you Helen, and damn me for not being fast enough.' The claymore thought bitterly as her friend's sword hit the ground with an audible clang. She had her own weapon-being lucky enough to still have it in its sheath. 'Now just where am I?' Scanning her surroundings, Deneve reached out with her yoki, trying to pinpoint any possible threats.

Nothing. Well, it could have been worse...wait? What was that? She quickly turned at the sound of leaves rustling-were those groans-no, retching sounds? Cautiously, she began to approach the source of the noise-shifting so that way she could leap backwards into a fighting stance at a moment's notice. It sounded like whoever or whatever it was was trying to get to their feet. 'Well then...' The claymore lept forward, sword held upwards in a ready stance-and nearly took a marine's head off. "Wait! Don't!" He cried, holding his left arm up like a shield. She recognized that voice...

Having no time to pull back the strike-she twisted, burying the blade in a tree sending bits of wood and bark flying. "What the fuck?!" Raki cried out, his voice filled with fear, scrambling to his feet-and failing-slipping in a puddle of sick he must have put there seconds before. He landed in a heap, and the retched-again. Deneve shook her head as she pulled her blade out with a grunt. 'So he survived-that's good; at least now I have some back up, even if it is a marine.'

"So-did anyone else make it?" She asked, her face and voice filled with concern as the young marine continued heaving.

xxxxx

-Raki-

Spitting up his breakfast again for the fourth time in the past five minuets, he look up at the claymore. "What?" He asked confusedly, trying to make sense of whatever she had said as the nausea from what impacts he had taken when he had been flung from the helicopter threatened to overwhelm him again. "I said: Did anyone else make it?"

"Don't know-one minuet we're headed down," He said in a shakey voice, trying to clean some of the vomit off of himself, "Next thing I know I wake up puking my guts out and trying to keep from getting sliced open by a...erm-don't think trigger happy quite fits for you." He looked up at her and then collected his helmet. "Gotta find my rifle...need my rifle." he muttered, attempting to stand again with a growl as he forced as fresh waves of nausea hammered him mercilessly.

Fumbling around the bushes, he swayed slightly as he moved amoung them. Shit-he was seeing double. 'Where the fuck is my weapon?' One thing that was pounded into their head during basic was that a marine was useless without his rifle. "Raki!" He heard the claymore snap, then a hand clasped his should and spun him around. "We don't have time for this." Deneve stated in a stern voice, looking him in the eye, "You should've kept a firmer hold on your weapon to begin with."

'I'd like to see you keep better hold of your weapon when you get flung out of a helicopter when it crashes.' He thought bitterly as she pressed a huge broadsword into his hands. "It's Helen's." She stated-well no shit. The marking was clear as day. "Right now that weapon is your best bet-now come on-we've got work to do."

Well, at least a sword didn't run out of bullets.

xxxxxx

Chapter 6

-Miria, Clare, Helen-

They had been walking for what had felt like an eternity, but was probably no more than a few hours-Helen's constant grumbling and the steady drizzle that seemed to be getting stronger didn't help matters any. "Man, cannot belive we're marching through this shit-slogging in the mud," The rowdy warrior growled for what must have been the millionth time as the moved up a particularly steep-and wouldn't you know it-muddy hill. The trees on said hill looked as if though someone had taken a hatchet and tried to give them a trim-and failed misrably.

"Look at that." The marine grunted, pointing towards a small cluster of trees infront them-they had been sheared off almost halfway-bits of wood and branches lay around it-and more importantly, the purplish blood that stained the ground. The occasional body part could be found here and ther, but there was no mistaking it-a fight had taken place-and only recently. "Looks like a Starburst round." Helen shuddered and even Clare, the ever stoic-faced warrior, couldn't hide the unease on her face-Starburst rounds when they exploded peppered the area with smaller bomblets about the size of a teenager's fist, but had enough explosive in them to take someone's entire leg off. They had a nasty reputation for leaving a few 'surprises' laying around for some unsuspecting fool to step on.

"Alright, keep it tight people," Miria barked at them, "And watch where you step." That last part wasn't needed-even Helen, who had been endlessly complaining about the long, slow journey they had been undergoing to regroup with their unit, was now moving as slowly as possible, sweeping the ground in front of her, looking for the little steel balls of death that waited silently for its first victim.

"Shit-first we crash, then we find a battlefield, then we end up in a minefield," The marine sighed as he panned his rifle around, "Just another day on the job I guess-sure hope the others are having an easier time than we are-if their still alive."

They all shared his same sentiment...

xxxxxxx

-Raki, Deneve-

"So, where exactly are we going?" Raki asked, shifting his borrowed claymore from one hand to the next as they moved quickly but cautiously through the dense brush of the forest. "We're going to see if anyone's still alive-if not, we head to Lartec." The way she had so casually stated it...Raki got the distinct impression that she was expecting to find survivors-but the odds of surviving a crash in a gunship armed to the teeth...

Hell, they'd been lucky to survive being flung out of the craft-most people would've left a crater. "You sure-" He suddenly had shivers up his spine as he heard an all-too familiar sound-the unmistakable, rapid rat-tat of a submachine gun. "Shit," Denveve snarled, suddenly running full tilt, "It must be a marine sqaud-I can sense their yoki nearby." Raki couldn't sense anything-but then again-marines weren't trained to read yoki auras.

xxxxxxx

"Hold em off! Just hold em off!" Sargent Haldain had never in his life had a mission go so badly-the job had been simple-gather intel on enemy activity in the area-then their orders had been changed-find a downed Leopard. Simple enough-until a horde of flying yoma had descended around the area-apparently trying to find the same craft they were.

Add on to that the half-dead claymore they found and the other fact his sqaud was underarmed for this kind of short notice mission, well...they all had to die someday. "Beckhart! Harrison! Take up positions the right!" He barked, attempting to bring some semblance of order to his men, "Morzek! Randall! Positions on the left!" He turned to their medic-he was trying to stabilize the claymore they had found. "How's our patient," The sergeant shouted, his voice barely audible over the sounds of combat. "Not good," Came the barely heard reply, "Her BP is 30 under 80, she has multiple lacerations and puncture wounds and has lost a lot of blood." What the hell...

"I thought she was a Claymore!? They heal better than we do." He turned and blasted a yoma with his shotgun, a large hole, big enough for him to stick his fist through appeared in its chest as the force of the shot knocked it backwards. "Not this one-see the color in her hair?" He pointed to the wavy brown hair she had, "Means the yoma flesh didn't take hold completely."

"So she's underpowered...means she's about as helpless as a marine." He felt sorry for her, he really did-she had been regulated to the ranks of the marines after it was found she wasn't up to snuff by the Org's standards. "Get her stabilized as best you can." He said almost gently, putting another shell in a yoma that got too close, "We've got to-" A scream erupted from his left-shrill and agonized-he realized then one of his men had gone down-a yoma tearing through the insulating metal cocoon they wore and reaching the soft flesh beneath. It let loose a scream of triumph and began to set upon its prize-only to be abruptly cut off by a burst of rifle fire.

His buddy began yelling obscenities, spraying rifle rounds left and right-all discipline gone into from his mind-driven by the burning desire to avenge his comrade. "Randall-Get back on the line!" The sergeant roared-taking down another yoma as it bounded through their now-exposed left flank. "Randall! Get your fucking suicidal ass back on the-!" Haldain's shout ended in a gurgle as another yoma took advantage of his momentary distraction. "Fuck!" The medic began to panic, frantically ripping his pistol from its holster and emptying it as fast as he could.

Randall himself hadn't fared much better than his CO-his anger had gotten the better of him, clouding his judgement and overriding his training. He had gone too far away from his squad and had wasted the majority of his ammo in anger. He turned to blast another yoma after finishing off one with a shot to the head. The marine trained his weapon on his target, tightening his finger on the trigger as it lept up-waiting for that sweet moment-the top of its arc where the rounds would have the most effect-but not too close that it landed on him.

Click!

"Ah shi-" His screams filled the air as the yoma knocked him to the ground and proceeded to rip him limb from limb-silenced only when another descended upon him and swung a claw at his throat.

"Sergeant's down! Sergeant's down-Fall in!" The two soldiers began to instinctively fall back to the medic who had dispatched his attacker and was now fumbling-trying to get his weapon reloaded as quickly as possible, cursing as he dropped the magazine. "We ain't gonna make it!" One of them cried as he let loose a burst from the submachinegun in his hands, the rounds causing a yoma's head to come apart. He dove for cover behind a rock as a dozen long, well, tendrils lanced past him, embedding themselves in a tree and sending chips of wood flying-he heard the roars of frustration and anger, and smiled beneath his helmet.

The yoma began to back off. "Shit-we drove em off!" The medic breathed a sigh of relief, and holstered his gun. "I don't know about that." The two soldiers glanced at one another, then their late sergeant and at what was left of Randal. Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the nearby brush, and something landed with an audible wet plopping sound, bouncing several times and landing near the crouched medic. "What the-?" It was a head-or more accurately-a half a head-it was neatly severed...and judging by the sounds, all hell was breaking loose.

Raki cursed as he swung the heavy blade too high, and instead of hitting his target-a yoma's neck-he ended up slicing through its skull. 'Well, same results..' He thought as he swung the blade a second time, slicing another one diagonally, blood blossoming across its chest. The damn sword was heavy-heavier than the rifle he usually carried, and his arms ached.

How in the hell did the claymores use the fucking things?

"Have you ever used a sword before?" Deneve asked as she finished off another opponent, cutting it down the middle and letting both halves fall the to the ground. She was so damned casual about this. Raki ignored her and turned to meet his next attacker-or would have, if hadn't seen the remaining monster running away. Drawing his pistol, he fired a few parting shots, catching one squarely between the shoulder blades, but the others missed.

"Well, got one of em." He muttered. Holstering the gun, the young marine turned to the thick foliage they had come from. There was more movement. "Don't shoot!" Came a shout, and a lone marine came through, "Friendlies coming in!" He kept his hands in the air, his body language tense-and immediately relaxed when he saw who he was dealing with. "Man are you a sight for sore eyes!" His tone suggested a mixture of relief, happiness, and some other unidentified emotion. "Who would've thought that a claymore and a marine would be this far out."

"Our leopard crashed." The marine nodded at Deneve's words, and checked the submachingun at his belt, as if though the claymore's words were all he needed to hear. "Well, come on-I'll take you to my squad-at least whats left of it." The proceeded through the clump of bushes to the scene of what looked like a massacre. Shell casings littered the ground, and a marine with his throat torn out lay off to the side, clutching his shotgun. Another lay face down, a large puddle of red surrounding him.

A third, unidentifiable body lay twenty feet away, the nearby rifle and scraps of metal identifying him as a marine. Judging by the amount of yoma lying around the sqaud, they must have run into the band that attacked their helo. Poor bastards.

Raki went over to one of the bodies and took his shotgun. "Our sergant." Raki nodded his respects and retrieved whatever ammo he had left. "So how many left?" He asked, Deneve glared at him-technically claymores even of the lowest rank out ranked even the highest of marine officers-but marines more often than not, just like claymores, were more easily dealt with by their own kind. "Just me, Beckhart"-He gestured to a marine with a large black case on his back-a long range radio of some kind",and Doc here...and-" He said, more than a bit of resentment in his voice, "Our paitent."

"Shit-that's our pilot." The medic looked up at them. "So wait-you guys are the crew of that lepord that went down?" "No, only part of it-we were flung from it as it went down." The medic stood and looked them both over. "Holy shit-I mean I can understand a claymore surviving a hit like that, but a marine-damn!" He turned back to Clarice. "You three." She snapped to the two marines and Raki. "Form a perimeter."

"Now wait a minuet-we came down here to-" Deneve cut him off with a wave. "We have wounded, and the enemy has only retreated to just beyond these woods-and yet here you are arguing with me like a stubborn child when you should be doing your job." She could sense the aura of the yoma-see it even-a sickly yellow color, with similar feeling to match-as if though she were imagining rotten meat, spoiled milk and bad eggs all together in a vile mix. "They're most likely regrouping for another assault." A cold smile crossed her lips. "Must be because of the banquet your squad so conveniently provided them."

The all-too casual tone implied that she found the whole situation amusing. "Grab what ever cover you can find and fortify our positon!" The claymore said softly, shifting to a fighting stance."I will take the first wave." Her tone brooked no room for disagreement The marines, cursing under their breath and heaving all the while, dragging pine branches they hacked off with their bayonets and rolling several large rocks to add as corner stones and possibly add some kind of solid cover-the whole thing was an absurd and pathetic sight-but it would aford the marines some protection from the long tendril-like spikes the yoma tended to launch at them.

Of course-cover wouldn't matter once they crossed over the makeshift bunker.

"Grab whatever munitions you can find and divide them among yourselves as best you can." She tensed at the sound of leaves rusltling and branches breaking. She heard the growls, becoming ever louder. Shit...Too many for her to handle, and the squad behind her was a light scout unit-not meant for a drawn out confrontation.

Sometimes-Deneve wished she hadn't been a coward that was afraid to die...but it seems that she wasn't unable to overcome that fear. "I'll hold them off as long as I can-take out any that get by me."

"Right-Doc-how's the patient doing?" "Not good," The medic's voice was colored with worry, "She's healing, but not as fast as she should-we try to move her..." His voice trailed off. "Son of a bitch-alright-some one try to get command on the horn-we need some kind of evac out of here." One of them-Beckhart-pulled a radio attached to his pack and began to speak. "This E-237-Delta 6-we have located members of the crew of the crashed Leopard and sustained heavy casualties-three fatalities and one critical injury-coordinates L483-Niner-2084-repeat-we are request immedeate evac and dust off-come in command."

"Roger that Delta 6-we currently unable to provide dust-off-area around the LZ's too hot-we do how ever have a secound unit inbound for the crash site-ETA 15 minuets-can you hold?" Came the reply, garbled and full of static-the voice was all too calm for a situation like this.

The marine shook his head at the response to his plea fo help. "We've got hostiles inbound and are currently low on ammo-we've got some cover-don't know if we'll hold that long."

"Understood. We'll try to get help as soon as possible-hold as long as you can. Command over and out."

"Those cockbites-they know damned well a recon squad can't hold out against a long term confrontation." One of them swore angerly. "Not like we have a choice." Raki replied, his tone nervous, taking aim at the bushes. "Anyone got some grenades-we can chuck a couple, might take a couple out.

"Yea-you must be a rookie." One of the marines shook his head, "We've got some-but they don't do much good against these things-too fast unless we time it right." "What?" He replied back frantically, "But in basic they told us-"

"Forget what you learned in basic-grenades are only useful if we can actually get the time to pull the pin and only then when we actually have a clear veiw." The sudden burst of movement from the bushes hailed the arival of their attackers. "Shit-they're here"

"This E-237-Delta 6-we have located members of the crew of the crashed Leopard and sustained heavy casualties-three fatailites and one critical injury-coordinates L483-Niner-2084-repeat-we are request immediate evac and dust off-come in command."

"Roger that Delta 6-we currently unable to provide dust-off-area around the LZ's too hot-we do how ever have a secound unit inbound for the crash site-ETA 15 minuets-can you hold?"

"We've got hostiles inbound and are currently low on ammo-we've got some cover-don't know if we'll hold that long."

"Understood. We'll try to get help as soon as possible-hold as long as you can. Command over and out."

"Whoa." Helen said as the transmission played-"Sounds like the rook and Deneve have been picked up-probably the pilot too." Miria shook her head-"Any one of those fatalities could've been them."

"But still-we should probably head to those coordinates-Michael, wasn't it?" the marine looked up at her-he had been forced to rest after reopening one of his wounds-they hadn't gone very far into the battle site when he had reopened his wound. "Can you make it." It was not a question. "Aye ma'am." His tone was probably more confident that he was feeling as he stood-casing a fresh wash of blood to leak down his leg. Sholdering his rifle, he nodded to her. 'Tough bastard.' She thought as he he unslung the weapon and moved into formation with the others. "Alright-judging by the sounds of it, this unit-Delta 6-won't last until that unit arrives-its up to us to try and get to them before their overrun." Miria stated cooly, her expression neutral. "We can get their aid, but we'll need to hurry. Michael."

"Yeah?" He was clearly making an effort to hold himself up. "Think a tough marine like you can swallow his pride long enough to be carried by a couple of little girls?" That brought a chuckle, albet strained, from the wounded man. "Yeah," He said weakly, using the rifle as a support, "Think I can." She nodded and signaled to the other two-they slung an arm over each sholder and helped as he slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Try not to jostle him too much-we need everyone on this."

"Shit!" Raki fired his shotgun, alternating from left to right-partially exposed to incoming tenticle spikes-what the hell else could they be called? One of them missed his head narrowly-and he returned the favor with a not-so nice respose from his own weapon. "Get down dumbass!" He felt a hand jerk him down. "You might have heavier armor-but if one of those gets through your helmet-your fucked." The radioman peek out and let loose a burst of rifle fire, dropping a pair of yoma just as they tried to get behind the claymore fighting just outside the barricade.

"FRAG OUT!" One of them bellowed, tossing a grenade then ducking back behind the flimsy wall of pine and stone-they had already had several close calls-the closest where a tendril had gotten through and punched a hole in the bag of plasma he was holding over Clarice.

A loud boom followed by anguished roars and a bellowed oath from Deneve said that the grenade had hit is mark. "Watch it!" They heard the claymore shout, Peeking up, they saw she had been peppered with fragments-bit of jagged metal stuck out of her left arm, upper right thigh, and part of her abdomen. "Ah shit...here they come again."

Her ears ringing from the blast, searing pain lancing through her as blood trickled down her legs. The warning for the grenade had come almost too late as it had landed in front of her-and the marine who threw it must have set it on a short fuse-but despite her self, she grinned at the damage it had done-most of the yoma who had been attacking her were either dead, dying or retreating for a second try.

"Shit-" She gasped, sinking to one knee-more blood poured from the numerous wounds-nothing vital had been pierced, but still, the loss of blood was taking its toll-her sword felt heavy despite her increased strength, and her vision was blurring at the edges. She felt hands grab her and help her back. "Damn girl-what the hell were you thinking?" One of the marines said, pulling her over the makeshift wall. He heard another set of roars coming from the bushes. "Set grenades to short fuses-wait for my command to throw!" If they were using grenades against yoma-this meant it was bad-low on ammo, waiting for evac and two wounded-"Fix bayonets and be ready for hand to hand combat." Raki pulled the spare baynoet to the shotgun and prepared himself.

He prayed silently, hoping that any deity was listening. An icy dagger dropped into his stomach as he saw them come through the bushes, their brown hides showing the muscles rippling through them, the bloodlust in their yellow eyes and their slavering mouths. "Throw now!" Several grenades sailed out-their timers set on a short fuse and detonating almost level with the pack's heads-sending lethal shrapnel through them. Purple blood flew and several bloody somethings flew with the combined force of the concussion generated by the explosion and flying shrapnel-not event the hide of the yoma could stand against that.

With their frontal assault demolished-the remaining yoma were too dazed to mount an effective response-until their friends came through. "Second round-throw!" The second wave was less deterred by the volley, and thus the grenades were not as effective. "Shit-open fire." Raki put a shell through a yoma's chest, followed by a second through another's leg-the recoil despite his inhuman strength was almost too much for him to handle-no wonder these things were popular only with the strongest marines-the kick was almost unmanageable.

He worked the pump then fired again-this time finishing the job. Another one lept over its comrade, intent on devouring him. He raised his weapon, fingered the trigger and-chic! The yoma roared again and the young marine thrust upwards-the gun wrenched out of his hands as the now deceased yoma's dead weight carried it with it, sailing just beyond his reach. "Shit-breach in the perimeter!" The marines were now swinging their bayonets frantically-Raki had drawn his fletchett pistol and began firing-his aim slightly off because of his laying down position. Deneve had joined in-her sword flashing left and right.

'This is it-we've just bought it-my first mission and I'm already gonna die.' Raki thought hopelessly as his magazine clicked dry. He had now ammo left and only one grenade-he reached for the pin as a yoma, see the prone soldier on the ground, went for him. He squeezed his eyes shut, caressed the pin on the grenade-Brrruuuaap!

"Holy shit!" He opened his eyes and saw that the yoma who had gone for him was dead, its head and upper torso a tattered ruin. A shotgun boomed somewhere in the distance. "Nice of you all to show up!" He heard someone say. Propping himself up on his left elbow and using his right to help him peer over the barricade-he saw exactly was his fellow marines were going on about-it was his sqadron and one of the gunners. Though armed only with firearms, they were going through their enemy like a hot knife through butter. He could help it-he began to cheer, relief flooding him-he could see he wasn't alone-the others had joined in.

"Good to see all of you are alive." Miria said as they all clambered over the barricade. "You look like shit." Helen said as she looked her friend over. "You're one to talk." Deneve retorted as they bumped their fists together. Raki looked back to where the medic was-he was talking with the captain as they checked Clarice. He didn't hear the movement behind him. "Hey! Watch out!"

"Wha-" Clunk! He was sent flying as a huge, black form slammed a giant, clawed hand. "Shit-get it!" Gunfire sounded throught the area as the squad killed the yoma that had smacked him. A few seconds later-"Damn it-someone check on Raki." And he blacked out for the secound time that day...

XXXXXXX

Whew-this new format takes awhile and has the greater potential for writer's burnout. Once again apologies for crappy writing/grammer/spelling. Still don't have beta reader so please point out any mistakes-sorry for the wait.