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Blue Squad by Tin Can Man
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Blue Squad London: Prologue
Date: 15 July 2005, 3:35 pm
The trio of Pelicans soared over the city of London, soaring in between the ancient buildings. The sounds of battle roared below, with blinding plasma guns mixed with the crack rifle-fire signifying the desperate fight below. Cpl Alex Maine shut his eyes, and tried not to think about what he had gotten himself into. He heard another man being sick, either through the pilot's reckless flying through the city. "Oh God, oh God, I'm going to die," sobbed one Marine, Richard Vance, who had only been assigned to the squad a week ago, with no battle experience whatsoever. The Brass was getting desperate, conscripting people into the Marines to try to replace the ever-increasing fatalities in the war.
"Get ready to disembark, boys!" shouted the pilot, "we'll be there in one minu-"
But before she could finish, a plasma cannon hit the cockpit with tremendous force crushing the pilot under a barrage of molten metal. The wings were torn of the body like a knife through rice paper. Everything began to shake, and Maine held on to the seat handles hard enough to make his knuckles go white as the blood drained away. Everyone's faces were pale. They had done this before in simulations, but that didn't reassure him very much.
"BRACE YOURSELFS!" screamed Sgt Mckenzie, a tall Scottish man, as the Pelican dove into the ground with bone-jarring impact. Maine was thrown from his chair, slamming into the Pelican's door. The wind was forcibly punched out as if by a giant fist, then everything went black.
"Corporal! Corporal! Wake up Godammit!" Cpl Maine woke up, to the sound of Mckenzie bellowing into his ear. "You awake son?" The sergeant asked, a bit quieter than before. Maine managed the smallest of nods, which sent a searing pain through his skull. "Good! Get a bandage onto that gash on your head, then get your equipment!" he turned to the others, "We're moving out in 5 minutes! The Covies know we're here, and they'll more than likely be sending a little welcoming party for us! Somehow, I don't think we want to be around when they get here. So get moving, you pansies! NOW!"
Everyone scurried about picking up their guns. Corporal Maine and Privates Smith, Garland and Nebett picked up battle rifles, while Vance got the shotgun and grenade launcher, and Mckenzie the sniper.
"Blue Squad lets move!" roared Mckenzie. "Watch for snipers on the rooftops! Stick together and we'll be fine!" Everyone got onto their feet, gave their weapons one last check, then trudged down the rain drenched road. Suddenly, a Marine came running round the corner, holding his rifle in one hand, and holding his helmet to his head with the other.
"Oh thank God you're here!" he panted. "My squad…dead…all dead…oh thank God you're here!"
"Calm down, son!" the Sergeant ordered. "Now what happened to your squad?"
"They…they're all dead sir. We got caught in a crossfire. Covie snipers shot Sergeant Harper and Corporal Shean, then… this Elite… he…he just carved everyone apart! It…it was a massacre, sir! I just ran as fast as I could."
The poor kid (he was only about seventeen years old) began to sob then. He covered his face with his hands and wept. Maine looked away in despair.
"You all right man?" asked Pvt David Smith, Alex's best friend. The pair had known each other since they had been kids, and had never thought they would enter the Marines.
"Yeah." He replied. "just gets a bit too much, all this fighting. Poor guy."
"Maine! Smith! We gotta get moving! Help this guy onto his feet! Command just radioed in, there are two transport 'Hogs round the corner! Get moving!"
They walked over to the kid, who was still sitting there, shoulders wracked in grief.
"C'mon kid, lets go."
They lifted him onto his feet, steadying him as he shakily found his bearings.
The squad moved through the eerie silence of the streets, every so often hearing the noise of Covenant and UNSC weapons every so often.
"There they are!" shouted Vance. There were two warthogs in the middle of the street. One had been tipped over on its side by a grenade, as the scorch marks were clearly visible on the underside. The other was smashed half way through a shop window. Kids toys of Spartans were littered about the ground, saying things like "Lets go get those Covie scum!" Or, "Join the Marines to be the best!"
Maine laughed bitterly at that. The Brass has got to be really desperate to have sunk that low.
"All right guys! Get those 'Hogs ready to go! The Brass has told us to get to the Covenant's grav-lift! Something big's going to happen! Something to do with a Spartan II! Now let's move!
Blue Squad London; Part One
Date: 19 July 2005, 10:33 am
The Warthogs sped along the streets. Everyone was silent, constantly keeping an eye out for Covenant. Suddenly, the sound of gun fire met Maine's ears.
"What's that?" whispered Pvt John Nebett.
"Sounds like a fight," Maine whispered back. Then the sound of multiple rocket explosions filled the air. "A pretty big one by the sound of it."
"All right Marines!" Shouted Mckenzie over the sound of the battle, "Listen up! We're going to check out this battle and provide assistance as is needed! Maps show there are numerous vehicle blockades set up in a last ditch effort, so we won't be able to take the 'Hogs with us! Let's go!"
Blue Squad crept through the rubble of fallen buildings, lurking in shadows and keeping behind cover at all times. They entered a small building, through a hole that had been caused by grenades or perhaps a rocket.
"Split up into pairs and check the building!" bellowed Mckenzie (some what unnecessarily) into the comm unit. Suddenly the floor shook.
"What the hell was that!" spat Garland.
"An earthquake?" enquired Nebett.
"Can't be! Britain isn't near any fault lines!" Said Vance
"Then what- Oh My God!"
"SCARAB! GET TO COVE-"
But Mckenzie's words were cut off by a plasma bolt in the chest. The superheated plasma melted through his armour killing him almost instantly. "SERGEANT!" screamed Garland "OPEN FIRE!" he screamed, through the comm system, "TAKE THEM OUT! KILL 'EM ALL!" he screamed hysterically. The sergeant had been his friend, and all reason had left his mind. He wanted revenge. Even if it cost him his life.
A barrage of plasma fire forced Maine to roll behind a piece of wall. Dust and plaster coated his armour, causing him to cough and splutter as it entered his airways.
"Nebett? Vance? Do you guys copy?"
"Loud and clear, Alex."
"All right. David, can you provide covering fire for us?"
"Yeah… But you're not seriously think of taking that thing on, are you?"
"I know it's crazy, but it's our only chance. They've got a radio blocker set up near to us, meaning we can't contact anyone further than twenty metres away."
"God man, this is messed up. But you're right about one thing. It's our only chance, unless you want to try running out there and being taken down by snipers."
Maine took a deep breath.
"As the ranking officer here, I'm taking command!" He checked his gun, then touched a piece of splintered wood for luck.
"All right. Nebett, Vance! Get upstairs with me! We'll try and get the jump on them! David, provide cover! Go Go Go! The trio of marines ran up the metal stairs. Dust fell from the ceiling as the huge Scarab moved closer to their position. Vance took out his grenade launcher and loaded it up as soon as they had reached the flat roof of the building.
"Vance!" shouted Maine, "Take careful aim and fire right into the middle of that Scarab! Take as many of them out as you can!"
Vance took aim with the launcher, his eyes squinting in concentration, and his hands slippery with sweat.
"Wait for it, wait for it…" whispered Maine into the mike,
"wait for it… Now!" he shouted.
His voice was cut out by the sudden roar of the launcher. The grenade arced gracefully through the air, then impacted with the Scarab. Bodies of Jackal's and Elite's were hurled through the air and onto the ground below.
"Everyone! Get on board!" Vance and Nebett ran to the edge of the building and jumped onto the Scarab. Maine took a step back and sprinted to the edge, performing a running jump from the edge of the building onto the Scarab's back. Pain seared through his legs, and he fell onto his stomach, his battle rifle falling out of his hands. Just then an Elite, strode onto the upper deck of the Scarab, it's head held high. It's body was clad in a elaborate set of golden armour, and in it's hand was a bright blue plasma sword. The Elite turned it's head, grinning evilly ( or as close to grinning as is possible for Elites ) as it noticed the fallen Maine.
Nebett and Vance were having troubles of their own, and didn't notice. The Elite roared, a horrible sound that chilled Maine's blood. It raised it's sword high above it's ugly, evil head. And sliced down, a powerful killing blow. Maine rolled away from the Elite just in time, rolling onto his stomach. It's sword had become embedded into the ground, missing him by mere millimetres. It gave a roar of frustration and annoyance.
Maine pushed himself onto his knees, and fumbled at the flap of his pistol's holster. The Elite pulled the sword out, and laughed at him, a laugh that said I have already won . Maine took out the pistol and aimed it at the Elite's head. The Elite began to charge. He squeezed off four shots. The Elite lunged. The sword sped forward. And into Maine's stomach. The pain was excruciating, as though some one had plunged a red hot sword into his stomach. Which was exactly what had just happened. The Elite growled, twisting the sword ninety degrees, causing more pain. His knees buckled, and he slid of the sword. Black spots were appearing in his vision, and his hands were covered in blood. His. Then it went totally, terrifyingly black.
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