 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Nothing to Lose by hornet34
|
Nothing to Lose Part 1
Date: 28 August 2003, 5:32 PM
"Captain, I'm reading a Covenant cruiser on the charts."
"ETA?"
"10 minutes if they engage immediately, but they'll wait for the rest of their ships to form up," came the calm, educated voice of Doc, the ship AI.
"How in the hell did they get here so fast." Captain Simms voice was precise, distintively military, the result of endless years in service to the UNSC.
"Looks like they plotted our exit vector, then sent ships along that course at various intervals to track us."
"Clever bastards. Bring the ship up to combat status alpha, prep the longswords, and prepare the ship for boarding."
Usually that last order was a rarity during ship to ship combat, being that both sides preferred to just blow the other out of space. But the Captain knew that what brought the Covenant after them is what would also make them attempt to board.
Less than an hour ago, the Corrian, along with several other ships, had been ambushed by a superior Covenant force. The Corrian was part of Admiral Tessel's Battle Group, and had been awaiting in system for a rendezvous with a supply convoy. The Covenant had the advantage in the battle from the very beginning, and Captain Simms, seeing that all was lost, volunteered an idea to Admiral Tessel that might save the rest of their small fleet. The Corrian, being a Halycon class ship, was nearly identical to the Pillar of Autumn. While it was known that the Autumn had gone on a blind jump through slipspace, never to be seen again, it was also known that it had carried the Master Chief. Playing on the assumption that the Covenant would believe humans stupid enough to transport such a powerful soldier on such a relatively weak ship twice, he had his communication experts dig up some old, most likely broken codes. Using these outdated codes, the same as broadcasting in the clear, he sent fake messages to the Admiral that suggested the Master Chief was aboard and must be protected. If the Covenant believed this ruse, the Captain had no doubt they would try to capture the Master Chief and all his knowledge of the Halos and the Flood.
So the bulk of the fleet had formed a defensive screen to allow the Corrian to jump into slip-stream. As hoped, the Covenant took the bait, disengaged, and followed them, attempting to capture the Spartan and all his valuable information on the Halos and the Flood. The bulk of the Admiral Tessel's Battlegroup was for the time safe, if you don't count the beating it had already taken. The only drawback to this plan, at least from the Corrian's point of view, is that now it had a superior Covenant fleet hell-bent on revenge after you, and the Spartan you used to lure them after you isn't even on board to help you defend yourself.
"Sir, MAC guns fully charged, Archer missles primed, and the Longsword are ready to launch on your word."
"Two Covenant frigates have joined the cruiser, and two Destroyers on long range scanners. The frigates and the cruiser are positioning for attack!" Jeffrey, a crewman fresh out of training, had trouble controlling his voice in stressful situations.
"I want all guns to focus on the frigate to our left. Its the best chance we got of taking one of them down with us. Get all personal not on station to an escape pod, then inform Seargent Mayer and Sergeant Jackson to booby trap empty access points in case the Covenant try to board through them."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flight Officer A. J. Ramirez heard the order over the loudspeaker.
"Hey A. J., I guess they haven't had enough, eh" joked Paul Stamper, a cocky veteran.
"Yeh Paul, and we'll sure give it to 'em." came A.J.'s awkward reply. He could barely keep the nervousness out of his voice, he always got jitters before a mission. How did he let himself believe being a fighter pilot could be any better than an ordinary marine. Heck, they got cushy planetary assignments while he was stuck on the frontline of warfare.
"Strap up, it looks like the Fleet boys made another mess that we gotta clean up." Commander Volstek was a longtime fighter pilot, a good trainer, and an alcoholic when he could get to it.
A.J. was going through his preflight checklist when the Commander's voice came through the speaker.
"Ramirez your new wingman is Stamper. Suzuki, your with Coyne, and Barton your with me."
These were the new wingman assignments, quickly thrown together after the losses from the last battle. A. J. didn't really like Paul, but he knew he was a good pilot and hoped that would help his chances of returning, if there was anything to return to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Listen up men. We're gonna prepare a greating those ugly bastards won't forget. I want mines on those access tubes the second you see an escape pod launch. We ain't just gonna let walk in. Set up your main line of resistance at each end of the hallway. We'll pin 'em in. Target Elites first, and don't hesitate with the grenades. This place could use a new coat of paint, and I think some blue and purple covie blood would look good. Move out,"
Seargent Mayer knew his men would put up a good fight. Hell, he trained them to do so and they always did what he said. He also knew that his men were sacrificing themselves so some lazy crewman could have a chance to escape, but he didn't care, he'd rather go down figthing then get caught running. Besides, in this situation he knew that even those that made it to escape pods were still most likely screwed.
He jogged to his post, directly in the center of the defensive position. Most sergeants loved the sting of battle, but wisely kept themselves out of the most dangerous situations to provide a stable command for the unit. Sergeant Mayer knew that this time it didn't matter were he took up his position, his fate would be the same. Plus, being the very front would inspire his men.
He checked both his shotguns. In a normal circumstance he usually opted for an assualt rifle and a pistol to give him a well-rounded attack, but he knew this fight would be nothing but a close quarters, in-your-face, brawl, and he wanted all the firepower he could get.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Captain, the cruiser and two frigates will be in firing range in two minutes. The Destroyers in six and eight minutes, respectively."
"Sir, I'm detecting Scarabs. It looks like they're launching their fighters."
"Inform all squadron commanders they have permission to launch."
"Sir, the first escape craft have launched, and I show Covenant boarding craft on scanners."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The loudspeaker blared again, "Commander Volstek and all fighter pilots, launch is in 30, take care of those Scarabs and try and scatter those boarding craft."
"You heard the man, lets light the fires and kick the tires."
The clock reached zero and the Longsword squadron shot out of the hanger.
"Alright boys, break by pairs and take those Scarabs out. Don't lose your heads and you wont lose your lives."
A.J. followed Paul as he arced away from the bulk of the squadron towards a group of six Scarabs. He was going for a head-to-head pass, a dangerous manuever. The two groups of fighters closed at a startling speed. A.J. juked back and forth, making it difficult to aim but even more difficult to be targeted. Incoming fire danced all around his and Paul's fighter. A.J. fired a snap-shot and watched it miss. Meanwhile, Paul had lined up on the center Scarab and launched a missile. The pilot was slow in reacting and the missile slammed into the front of his fighter before he could evade.
A.J. kept up as Paul pulled an incredibly tight turn to put him on the remaining Scarab's tail. Three of the Covenant craft looped back to engage while the other two flew straight ahead, an inviting target. Paul and A. J. both launched missiles at the lead Scarabs. Paul's target broke and began evasive maneuvers, but A.J.'s seemed hesitant, and tried to break first left, and then right. The missle was not fooled but this halfhearted attempt and turned the Scarab into a rapidly expanding ball of shrapnel.
Suddenly a nearby explosion rocked A.J.'s fighter. He pulled up, trying to escape the fireball, and felt the force of the turn crush him into his seat. He leveled out, and found himself on the tail of another Scarab . The kill he had just gotten had been his fourth, one more and he was an ace. He anxiously lined up his shot and prepared to fire, but the fighter began a sharp dive. Before he could follow, an alarm warned him that two Scarabs had crept up on his rear. He looked for Paul on his monitor, couldn't find him, both Scarabs were closing. Hemmed in from both sides, A. J. couldn't dodge. He tried to radio for help, but the sudden explosion of his engines stunned him. His fighter tumbled uncontrollably through space for a second before his remaining fuel and missiles detonated.
Nothing to Lose Part II
Date: 1 September 2003, 4:45 PM
Nothing to Lose Part II
Captain Simms peered out of his viewport. In the distance, three Covenant warships loomed; menacing, lethal, they brought only death and destruction and cared nothing for the people they destroyed. What seperated them was the cold darkness of space, periodically illuminated as Scarabs and Longswords exploded. He wondered how much longer his pilots would last, how long it would be until the boarding parties overran his marines, how long until there was nothing left but a hollowed out shell of his ship.
"Doc, what's the status of our starfighters."
"Twenty percent have already been destroyed or disabled. They're putting up a valiant fight, Captain, but they are outnumbered badly. I don't see how its possible they can engage those Scarabs, try and disrupt boarding attempts, and stop the enemy from harrassing our escape pods."
The Captain paused to consider his next words, knowing that every last one of his pilots would die today. "Send the order for them to disengage. Their new priority is to stop those landing craft." He turned to address the bridge crew. "We are locked in a battle we can't possibly win. It was my choice to sacrifice our ship. Our duty now is to hold these Covenant ships here as long as possible, to make them sacrifice more than they ever thought they would have to, because every second we keep these ships occupied, every Covie bastard we kill, is one less second our friends have to fear their presence, one less enemy to endanger our comrades. But if anyone wants to leave, to have a chance at making it out of this alive, there is no shame in that."
The crew looked at the captain for several long seconds, each man silently considering what must be the hardest decision they would ever face. Finally First Lieutanant Richard Pearson spoke up.
"Captain, I think I can speak for everyone when I say it would be our honor to accompany you on this final mission."
A cheer broke out throughout the crew.
Captain Simms couldn't keep the smile off his face. "Alright, well lets show those Covenant assholes how to fight a war. Rezendez, I want a full report on sheild and hull strength on all three vessels, especially the second frigate. You show us where they're weak and we'll rip them apart. De Gaulle."
"Yes sir"
"Why aren't we in firing range yet."
"The Covenant have stopped, sir. They're letting us come to them. I estimate it we'll be in firing range in thirty seconds. Also, the Destroyers are breaking off. It looks like they're going planetside, probably to send troops down after our dropships."
"Sir, the first Covenant boarding craft have landed."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sergeant Mayer checked his scanner, looked up at the door, and then checked it again. Initially four boarding craft were headed towards the docking bays his team controlled, but a pair of Longswords had put an end to one of them.
"Alright Marines, first boarding craft coming in. Throw everything at 'em, we got nothing to lose."
The Sarge heard a loud thump on the hull. Suddenly the door erupted in a blinding blue flash, followed instantly by a charging elite. Just as quick the mine went off, sending the elite hurtling back through the hole he'd just created. Two grunts had been hot on his tail, but both were off-balance from the mine and stumbled out. Mayer squeezed the trigger on his shotgun and pumped buckshot into the closer grunt. Assault rifles chattered as the marines opened up, and both grunts fell before being able to fire a shot.
Mayer quickly jammed shells back into the shotgun as two jackals came pouring out. But rather than charge heedlessly in battle, they crept forward carefully, each one turned to provide cover from both sides. Once more the sound of assault rifles filled the air, but this time bullets pinged harmlessly off the jackal's shields. Mayer popped off two rounds, only to hit sheilds. Across the room he saw one of his soldiers go down, the victim of a well placed plasma shot.
A grunt joined the Jackals assault and began chucking grenades, only to have the marines answer with no less than three of their own. Mayer closed his eyes as the room became engulfed in fire from the resulting explosions. All three Covenant fighters were obliterated, leaving only a splattering of purple blood on the walls. Mayer fingered his trigger, expecting more enemies, but an uneasy calm ensued. Something didn't feel right, but he shrugged it off.
"Injury Report."
"Sarge, Morris took a shot to the shoulder. Armor caught most of the damage, but I don't think he'll be able to fire a weapon."
"Then get him out of here and to a escape pod, he's no more use here. Anyone else."
"Sir it Webber."
The Sergeant looked at the private; his armor blackened, his hair singed, he had what looked like a horrible sunburn on his face.
"I got a little too close to the plasma grenade, but I'm good to go."
"Good to go, son, you look like your well-done. Get to a first aid kit and patch yourself up and then hustle your ass back here. Everyone else alright. Then look sharp, we got two more coming in."
Nothing to Lose Part III
Date: 3 September 2003, 4:57 PM
Nothing to Lose Part III
"Rezendez." Captain Simms shouted. "Whats the status of those ships."
"Sir, the second frigate has taken the most structural damage. I estimate they're weakest just below midship, above the engines. The other frigate and the cruiser aren't really showing any weak spots."
"Alright, you heard the man. I want all guns hitting that second frigate right here," Simms motioned to frigate on the main monitor. "MAC rounds first, followed by every Archer missiles we can spare. De Gaulle, how much longer until firing range."
"Ten seconds sir."
"Five seconds."
"Four...Three...Two...One...Firing Solutions are locked on"
"Fire. I repeat, Fire at will." Most gunners were firing before the Captain finished the order. Outside the viewports a blinding flash appeared, as hundreds of Archer missiles and MAC rounds went shooting off towards the Covenant. In the distance, a similar flash could be seen, heading towards the Corrian.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sergeant Mayer still kept an eye on the hatch the first Covenant had come through. He was about to send out a search party to investigate, but let his suspiscion fade as the next two boarding craft flashed outside the viewport.
"Alright Marines, just like last time."
Mayer didn't flinch as the two doors burst open simultaneously, he just kept his gun trained on the closest opening. But this time there was no roaring elite, no flash of the trip-mine. Just several unnerving seconds of peace. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Mayer, two grunts slowly crept out. The same familiar explosion sent both grunts flying back in pieces, but Mayer cursed to himself. These grunts were definitely sent out as cannon fodder.
Again an uneasy peace ensued. Mayer strained to see or hear what was going on inside those doors. A slight waver in the doorway caught his eye.
"Shit, camo elites, LET 'EM HAVE IT!"
Every assault rifle in the room opened fire, desperately searching for the invisible enemy. Mayer saw a blue flash and heard one of the marines on his end go done. He began targeting the source of the fire. The elites, despite their invisiblity, were eventually caught in the narrow hallway and ripped apart. But the tactical victory belonged to the Covenant. While the Marines were hardpressed to hit the elites, the rest of the boarding crew had snuck out, behind the strength of four jackal's and their sheilds.
Mayer quickly surveyed the situation. His marines were uncoordinated, near panic. They had spent half their first clip trying to hit the elites. The Covenant on the other hand were well coordinated, calm, and had a full charge ready to let loose. Three grunts and an elite advanced behind two jackals towards his position. Across the room he could see the same formation going towards the rest of his troops.
He pumped his shotgun, discharging the empty shell, and took aim. Then, he saw it. The elite from the first wave, bleeding heavily but enraged nonetheless, come storming out of the first access hatch towards his troops on the far end.
"Time to even these odds," he thought to himself. He put two blast into an elites sheilds, causing him to duck behind the jackals. Then he turned his aim towards a grunt that was preparing to throw a plasma grenade. The shotgun burst hit the grunt with enough power to send him hurtling backwards. The grenade he was attempting to throw never got the force it needed to clear the marines's barricade, and landed squarely between the attackers and defenders.
Both sides backed off or dropped down, anticipating the inevitible blast. Mayer used the brief respite to reload, and heard several other soldiers doing the same thing. He knew that his troops on the other end were facing worse odds, and if they didn't get help soon, they would all be in big trouble.
"Thompson, Caparso," he yelled down the line, "Toss two grenades and then give me some cover fire."
Mayer tossed one himself, and then lifted a shotgun in each hand. After a short second, the sound of multiple grenades burst rang out.
Over the noise of assault rifles, Mayer screamed, "Charge!" and suited actions to words. Both jackals were blown apart by the explosions, but two grunts and an elite remained. Mayer targeted the elite, knowing it to be the greater danger. He squeezed both triggers and twin shotgun blast ripped through the elite instantly. Almost instantly. The elite had managed to pull off a desperate snapshot. Mayer felt an incredible pain blossom from his left side of his body. The room spun and he fell to the ground, briefly glimpsing boots rushing past him. Then he closed his eyes and knew no more.
Nothing to Lose Part IV
Date: 12 September 2003, 7:36 AM
Nothing to Lose Part IV
Captain Fredrick L. Simms felt his knees buckle as his once mighty ship, the Corrian, was pummeled by enemy plasma torpedoes. He struggled against the constant shaking and stood back up, only to be thrown down once more by a particularly violent tremor.
"Doc, what's our status!" he yelled above the clamor.
"Doesn't look good, Captain. The Covenant targeted our vitals. The Main Hangar is a shell, not that we have any Longswords left anyway. Our engines are crippled, and our weapons capacity has been cut in half. They took out one of our MACs, sir" he added remorsefully.
"Rezendez, did we get the frigate."
"Negative sir. She in real bad shape, though. Shields gone, hull integrity severely weakened, she trying to manuever to save herself."
"We can't have that. Guns, stay on her, I want that ship down before we are."
"Captain," came Rezendez's reply. "The way that frigate is manuvering; well, sir, if we hit those port engines with enough firepower, she'll be a sitting duck and we can take all the time we need to finish her."
"We don't have time, Rezendez. Just hit that ship with everything you got and we'll pray she breaks up on us."
Medical patient 0343 opened his eyes to a blinding white light. The unfamiliar room and strange sounds expounded on his feeling that he should be elsewhere. The cries of wounded men and the smell of biofoam did little to jog his memory. He tried to sitting up too fast and was rewarded with a massive pain that racked the left side of his body. A sudden tremor shook the room, doing little to help with the pain. He laid back down and tried to cut through the haze in his mind.
"Ah, Sergeant Mayer," came a melodious voice. Mayer judged by the accent that the young doctor was originally from somewhere in the British Isles. "Nice to see you functioning. Just in time too. Ta' Captain 'as a special order for you. You're supposed to be in the bridge immediately, if you t'ink you're physically able."
"Hell yea," came his natural marine response. "I mean, yes, I'm functioning. What's he want."
"No time for explanation, just follow the private t'ere, and do be quick," the young doctor urged.
Mayer painfully straightened up and began to follow the private. On the short trip he pieced together what must have happened. The pain in his side made it obvious he had been shot. He thought about how stupid it was to lead such a foolish charge, but it must have been somewhat successful; he wasn't dead. He also figured he couldn't have been out for too long, seeing as how the ship hadn't been overrun yet. He rounded the last corner into the bridge, and came into a flurry of activity. Mayer followed the Private as they pushed past marines and excited crewman. He saw one gunner slumped over in his chair, his monitor having blown up in his face, as they made their way to the Captian.
"Sir, Private Lee and Sergeant Mayer reporting, sir."
"At ease, Private," Captain Simms replied. "Sergeant, we don't have much time, so I'll be brief. The Corrian is a complete loss, although we did get one of their frigates first." Mayer saw a grim smile flash across the Captain's face. "Anyway, our marines are holding up boarding parties for now, but time's short. Now I have a personal escape pod down the hallway, and I want you to take a squad of marines and get planetside to continue resistance. Liason with Lieutanant Matthews when you get there. I sent him down with the first wave, so he should have things under control. He's a good man, and you two should be able to give those Covies a run for their money."
"But Captain, what about you and th-"
"Don't worry this old soldier," he interrupted. "I always knew if my ship was going down, I'd go with her. I guess its good for you I had an escape pod installed anyway. Now get moving, there isn't much time left, I've already begun the self-destruct."
Mayer looked past the Captain to the main monitor, and saw 12:27 in big red numbers. He turned to the Captain, trying to think of a proper parting remark, but the emotion of the situation overwhelmed him. So instead he saluted, and briskly turned and marched out, followed in unison by nine marines.
One of the marines handed the Sergeant a battle rifle as they walked out of the bridge. They made their way down the short hallway to the Captain's escape pod, every now and then bracing themselves as the shipped shuddered under fire. They made it to the escape pod without incident and the marines piled in and began strapping down, preparing for the ride.
Sergeant Mayer mechanically strapped himself in. He barely noticed the jerk made from his escape pod detaching, his mind raced as emotions swirled. He tried to target his emotions; a kind of grief from the loss of his ship combined with guilt at being spared its destruction. In some ways he wished he could have made his last stand on the bridge, but it wasn't his decision. He was a soldier and would do as he was told. The pilots voice snapped him back to reality.
"Entering the atmosphere. You know, not one of you has paid for his ticket."
"Hey, I left my wallet back on the ship, could you pull a quick u-turn," one of the marines joked."
The buffeting from the atmosphere quelled the need for a rejoinder, as each man sat rigid in his seat. A dull roar came from the back of the pod as the airbrakes started working. Mayer could see out the front viewport, as the land below rapidly closed. Something resembling a human structure flashed by, but before he could say anything, before he could even think what it meant, the escape pod plowed into the soft dirt.
Nothing to Lose Part V
Date: 20 September 2003, 7:15 PM
Nothing to Lose Part V
First Lieutenant Byron Matthews nodded in approval as he watched his marines prepare for battle. He decided that the abandoned base, acting as their theoretical "Alamo," was as good a place as any to make a last stand. He stopped to inspect a machine gun nest, and was peering down the barrel when his radio scared half the life out of him.
"Sir, radar shows another escape pod coming in."
Byron recovered his senses and thumbed the radio, "Get a couple of 'hogs out there and get 'em back to base, I'll meet 'em at the gate."
The marines had been lucky enough to find a vehicle depot that still had a number of Warthogs. Apparently the last residents had left in quite a hurry. With help of some of the ship's mechanics, the marines had persuaded three of the jeeps to start. The rest were towed to various points in the base, their LAAGs supplementing the base defenses. Captain Simms had said the base was abandoned due to increasing Covenant activity: the plasma scoring on the base exterior gave mute testimony to that claim.
'Abandoned' wasn't really the right term, though. After the initial search of the compound, a scout found a hidden door, cleverly cut to look like part of the paneling. Inside was a testing lab and a shell of a man. Byron shuddered when he thought of his first look at the survivor. The man was haggard, his beard and hair overgrown and frayed. His body had a very lean look, as if the nutrient paste he had been subsiding on was just sufficent to keep him alive without killing him. He wore marine fatigues, but his armor and clothes sported several rips and dried splotches of blood. Initially the man said nothing, only moaning and muttering to himself. Byron found this man interesting, if a little repulsive, and would have stayed to interrogate him had the impending assualt not been of bigger concern.
A trio of Warthogs rambled into the base, its occupants disengaging and lining up smartly before the Lieutenant.
"Sir, Sergeant Mayer reporting."
"Welcome Sergeant. No time for formalities. We're operating on the standard marine frequency for all radio messeges, not the Corrian's encryption. Your men can take up positions on the south wall, we'll have someone brief them."
Mayer nodded and his companions jogged off. He began following the Lieutenant as they headed towards the control room. "So, how does it look?"
"Well, defenses look pretty solid. The base sported an impressive anti-air defense, which is functional for the most part. Thats why you haven't seen drop ships swarming all around. I've had marines giving quick training lessons to the crewman we brought, so all we have to hope is that for is they grow a spine. In all, everyone is well equiped. The ammo should outlast us." Byron paused, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Only problem is that we've estimated that the troops on one of those Destroyers alone outnumbers us three to one, and that doesn't include armor and artillery. You've seen the only running warthogs we've got. I'm saving them to engage any ghost that come in, unless you've got a better idea."
Mayer was slow in replying, obviously Byron's frank evaluation of the situation had surprised him. "What about a flanking end run when the first wave gets into range, that will cause a little confusion and buy us some more kills. Warthogs have never been particularly efficient against ghosts anyway."
"That should work. It'll give us a chance to reload and spit out another clip at least. God it's hard to try and plan a battle when you know it'll end in defeat. The Corps never really trained us for that, did they."
Mayer was relieved of the need to reply as the conversation had taken both men into the control room.
"Liuetenant, I was just about to radio you." A deep voice bellowed. "Covenant have began moving from their base camp, proceeding cautiously. Probably scared after the beating we gave them up there." The heavyset crewman had a smug look on his face as he pointed to the monitor showing the space battle. The Corrian looked like a wreck, with flames issuing from all side, but the Covenant frigate was split in half and the second frigate showed battle damage. The monitor suddenly dimmed, and when it flickered back on, the Corrian was replaced with a massive fireball.
"Oh, I don't think they're to frightened." Byron replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Mayer had noticed that the Liuetenant had a very fatalistic attitude, but in light of the circumstances, he could probably be classified as a realist.
Nothing to Lose Part VI
Date: 23 September 2003, 12:28 AM
Nothing to Lose Part VI
"Covenant will be in firing range in approximately three minutes."
Byron leaned over to check the radar, confirmed the crewman's report, and turned to Mayer, "Well, looks like this is it. I've got my personal sniper rifle, along with a spare. Did you ever train with one of these?"
"No. I always stuck to close combat. I feel like that's where I belong, and if you don't mind, I think I'll join my men on the front."
"No, go ahead. To every man his own, I always saw." Byron watched as the Sergeant walked out. He checked the radar again to get a good sense of how the battle would shape up, and then ascended the steps to a sniper's nest he had personally reserved for himself.
Byron laid out his weapons and ammo. He was a stickler for routine and always kept his spare clips in perfect readiness so as not to waste time. He jammed the first clip in and began presighting his scope. Far in the distance he could barely make out the shape of the Covenant horde. Scattered trees would provide some cover for the attackers, but Byron felt that the relative open ground and uphill slope really was a sniper's paradise.
"Hey Sarge, glad you could join us."
"Yea, we had to tell the Covenant to wait. Didn't your mom ever teach you to be on time."
"I thought you were my mom."
"Lorenzo, when you ever been on time. We gotta raise the base alarm each morning just to get you out of bed."
Several other marines chimed in as Mayer made his way up the front line. After meeting the eternally pessimistic Lieutenant, he enjoyed this good-natured ribbing. He slid down in one of the few unoccupied firing slots and readied his battle rifle.
A baby-faced private yelled out to Mayer, "So, how far away are they. I figured we'd at least be sending some mail over by now."
As if to punctuate his words, the air rang with the distinctive thumps of mortars, affectionately termed 'outgoing mail.' Several thin disturbances in the air could be spotted as snipers added to the carnage. In the distance Mayer saw Wraiths launch mortars in a lazy arc towards his position.
Byron sized up an elite in his scope. He was impressed with the creatures speed and fluid movement, but it's blue armor and lack of evasive maneuvers suggested that the poor thing had never learned the fine art of avoiding snipers. Byron squeezed off a two-shot education and shifted his aim to a jackal. A mortar hit close by and the jackal spun as if to assess this new threat, offering a beautiful side shot to the sniper. Byron expened his last two rounds and plugged in a fresh clip, once more taking aim on the battlefield. This time his aim drifted across a hunter. After wasting three rounds on its impenetrable shield, Byron took his aggression out on a hapless grunt. With his third clip, Byron was able to take out another elite and a grunt, but the Covenant had closed to firing range and were gladly returning the punishment.
As planned, three Warthogs ripped out of hiding and flew behind the first wave of Covenant troops, guns blazing. The sudden attack caught them off-guard, and some grunts broke and ran. Byron fought the temptation to pick off the easy targets and instead took aim on an elite. The Warthogs circled around, but this time the Covenant were ready for them. Three ghosts broke off in pursuit and a hail off small arms fire cut down the gunners on two jeeps. By the third pass, all three warthogs had been disabled.
Sergeant Mayer winced as another mortar hit close by, showering him with debris. The Covenant had pushed along, despite the nagging snipers and destructive mortars, and were entering firing range.
"Let 'em have it!"
Mayer utilized his battle rifle's scope, firing into a jackals unprotected flank. He turned his aim to an elite, but couldn't pull off more than two shots before enemy fire forced him to duck.
"Lorenzo!" he yelled over the din of battle.
"Yea, Sarge!"
"You wanna join me in a grenade shower."
"Haven't bathed all week, but I'll oblige."
Mayer and Lorenzo each tossed a pair of frag grenades and rose to continue the assault. Mayer saw the blast knock an elite down and finished it off before he could rise. He sprayed the rest of his clip at a pack of grunts, not taking time to count kills. Once more return fire forced him to duck and he used the oppurtunity to reload. In the distance he heard engines revving and rose in time to see the warthogs make their heroic charge. Mayer emptyed two more clips into the Covenant ranks, not bothering to duck as all the enemy's attention was on the Warthogs. The first wave was effectively cut off, and Mayer did his part to finish mopping up.
Byron dabbed at the trickle of blood running down his forehead. A Wraith mortar shell had come close to dropping on top of him, but his time wasn't up yet. He picked himself up and grabbed his sniper rifle. In his scope he saw that the Warthog assault had done its job. The first wave of Covenant were all but eradicated, but countless troops hung back waiting to advance. He added the formidible power of his sniper rifle to the cleanup effort and then turned to address the inevitable oncoming second wave, but what the Covenant did next shocked him to his very soul.
After wiping out the first wave, Mayer sat anxious for the next assault. He jammed a fresh clip into his battle rifle and prepared his last two frag grenades, but the sound of a fresh assault still couldn't be heard. Confused, he peeked over the wall to see what was going on.
"Lorenzo, you seeing what I'm seeing."
"Yea Sarge, and it don't make any sense. Why they leaving."
"Something's fishy. I smell a trap. I'm calling headquaters." Mayer dragged out his battered radio. "This is Sergeant Mayer, I'm here on the south wall, and we've just repelled the first Covenant assault. They've disengaged and are heading due south. Any idea where they're going."
"Home, Sarge," came the jubliant reply. "Which is where we're going too."
"You want to explain all this."
"Come back to headquaters, the Lieutanent will inform you."
Mayer walked into a full-blown party. Someone had scrounged up a barrel of rum and glassed were being passed all around, everyone sneering at the UNSC no drinking policy. Mayer pushed his way past excited crewman and found the Lieutanent with a fresh wound on his forehead and two stiff drinks in his hand. He also had a big smile on his face, which assured Mayer that something good really must have happened.
"Sarge, here, have a drink. Local stuff, its got a good aftertaste."
Mayer took a sip, "So, do I get to find out what happenned?"
"Certainly, Certainly." Mayer eyed Byron suspiciously, he sensed that the Lieutanent had already drank his share. "Goes like this. About a month ago, ONI finally realized that the Covenant were on our backs out here. So, when they sent this last convoy, they beefed up the escort to twice its size."
Mayer drained his cup, "We've been telling them that all along. It still doesn't explain why the ground troops took off."
"Come on Sarge, do I have to spell it out for you?"
"What's in this stuff, your acting unusually giddy."
Byron brushed the comment aside. "Refill?
"Just explain."
"Well, Tessel thought it unfair to leave us out here hanging, so he took his improved fleet and ambushed the Covies. From what I hear, they got the cruiser and the other frigate. The Destroyers were close to ground and saw they were overmatched, so they took off. Which means all the troops that we attacking us hightailed it back to camp to catch a ride, 'cuz you know they didn't want to be left on this rock. Now ya get it."
"Perfectly clear. Lieutanent, I think I'll join you for another round."
"That's the spirit. Ya know, we could all be courtmartialed for this."
"After today, I couldn't think of anything I'd like better."
|
