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The year is 2531, the Covenant has ruined Harvest, and any ships that have been sent to help are still fighting in orbit or have been destroyed.  Word is though, some Phoenix-class colony ship (Of course, it had been refitted for warfare) had managed to get boots on the ground and retake an Alpha Base maybe 20 miles from this godforsaken city.  Anyway, introductions. I lead a team of ODST's, or ass-kickers, for short.  Our Recon, Private Fyle and Weldes, they're a few idiots but give 'em something to do and they'll be back before you say "holy ****".  Explosives and Heavy Weapons Specialist PFC Maise, he likes be a smart-ass at times but his expertise in his field in near perfect.  And then our Silent but Deadly dedicated Marksman.  Corporal James.  He was pulled out of his old unit and placed in mine after his entire squad was obliterated by just one elite.  I actually feel bad for him, having been placed in this mess after what happened to him.  Then there's me, Squad Leader.  Sergeant Hales.  'Nuff said.  We've been stationed on Harvest for 6 years after first contact.  We stayed behind after a close call with an evac forced us to help defend a shuttle with a squad of marines.  Stuck here ever since.  Built us a shelter where the Covies hadn't glassed our ass, using the bodies and the few dead animals that were left to get food.  Supply caches  left over from battle have kept us loaded, but we haven't shot a bullet since that shuttle left 6 years ago. "Sarge, where did Fyle and Weldes go?"  "What kinda question is that?" I replied. Really, why would you ask where your recon boys went?  "I don't know, sarge..."  I heard James let out a chuckle. It was easy to make him laugh. Maise continued, "They've been go-"  Gunfire.  "Damn it. Hey James."  He let out a quick "Sir."  and stood up in full attention.  "Go radio Recon, tell them to come home, ASAP."  Yes, sir."  I have to admit, that Recon has got some balls going out there alone, what with all hell breaking loose.  "Maise, on me, let's go." 

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