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The Battle for Gamdon VI by Mech
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The Battle for Gamdon VI Part I: Death at Dusk
Date: 17 August 2006, 6:27 pm
The Battle for Gamdon VI Part 1: Death at Dusk
Sunlight conceals the true horrors of the day. It soothes you, tells you
that everything will be fine. But then Darkness comes and tells you
everything is not, and never will be. Darkness is the truth-bringer, and it
never lies. It never has to, for Darkness only shows you the fear in your
heart has been there the whole time.
Sunlight does not show the insectoid-shaped ship lurking in the corners of
the horizon. It does not show the desperate battle of the ships trying to
save your life. It does not show you the chance that any second now, a stray
shot could kill you and everyone you love.
Darkness shows this horror. Darkness makes everything terrifyingly clear. It
is the one thing that makes everything clear in an instant. And yet, you
fear the Darkness. The truth-bringer.
When Darkness comes, you finally see these things. At first, you don't
understand. Little toy ships no bigger than your fist, flying in the sky.
Explosions that look like the lighting of a match. Laser beams that seem to
you like needles of light. Exhaust fumes from Archer missiles that are like
the smoke from a Safe-Cig. And finally, the ships themselves. One group
looks like metal rectangles with points of light at the end. The other, like
Beasts from Hell. All of these things, dancing through the stars in some
elaborate ballet. Then you realize the truth.
The Covenant has found your home.
Panic sets in. But only for a moment. You relax, remembering the UNSC
propaganda films you watch on the vids. Countless videos of the heroes
everyone knows about. Captain Keyes, the valiant but fallen Hero of Halo.
Sergeant Johnson, who calls himself the Toughest Son of a Bitch Alive. And
the Master Chief, the man who went through Hell to destroy a whole Covenant
armada single-handedly.
But darkness whispers words of death in your ear. They can't help you here.
They are gone, and will never come to your aid. Everyone you know and love
is going to die along with you. Even the people you saw only ten minutes
ago.
And for a moment, you listen to that dark voice. You start to sob. But then
you look up, and your heart rises with your eyes.
The Covenant is being driven back! You think. We have won! The UNSC have
kept me safe!
But then darkness again crushes your hopes.
Wait. You think. What is that glowing light drifting toward you? It's not the
fireflies. This light is getting bigger by the moment.
Before you can decode this information in your brain, the light slams into
the ground twenty feet away from you. Steam vents from the light, which you
can now see is a pod, roughly human shaped. You tentatively step toward it.
Then the front explodes outwards, almost hitting you. It clips you leg, and
you hear, rather than feel, you bones snap to the greenstick fractures. Any
farther and you would have been at the mercy of the creature pushing itself
out from the pod.
The creature seems unfamiliar for a moment. Then you take in the long,
elongated head, the four wiggling jaws sprouting from it chin. The muscular
limbs, and the fluorescently colored armor.
An Elite. The shock troops of the Covenant. And then your fear begins to
feed itself, showing you vids and pictures of bodies that had been maimed by
Elites. And then your terror escalates as you see what the Elite has in its
hand. It seems innocent enough, only a device that looks like an intricately
carved handlebar. Until it lets loose a sword-shaped shaft of star-hot
plasma.
The Elite glances at you for a moment, and you can almost swear it smiles at
you. That is all it takes for your survival instincts to take over. You turn
and flee, the cursed darkness still whispering death into your ear. The
Elite gives chase, glorifying in the thought of being the first of his
brethren to score a kill. And so he follows, waiting for his chance. You do
not think of any of this, only thinking of survival in the falling darkness.
But then you thoughts turn to the sky, and you hopes are raised once more.
For a brief moment, you look into the sky, hoping that the human ships have
somehow sensed the danger groundside, and have headed down. But it is not to
be.
The human ships are still fading into Oblivion as the Covenant ships
continue to fire their needles of Death at them. Now you are alone. Now you
know the truth.
Death has come to Gamdon VI, and he is fulfilling his quota.
The Battle for Gamdon VI Part II: Capital Offense
Date: 25 August 2006, 3:17 am
"Jesus Christ...you're sure half the city's already hit?" Corporal Tanner ran a bloddy hand back through his hair as he asked his Captain the question he already knew the anwser to. The nod he got in reply only pushed his hopes into an express elevator to the basement. Grimly, he surveyed what was left of what had once been the glittering capital of Gamdon VI. Small rays of sunlight still coming from the rapidly ending dusk dimly lit the scene.
Smoke hung over it so thickly you could've sworn the city was on the cloud line of a mountain in a thunderstorm. Fires raged over and destroyed the city's most prized buildings. The town hall. The brand-new school. The towering church, along with it's priceless organ that had been specially impoted from Earth itself. Worst of all, a Covenant ship hovered omniously right on the horizon, with a carrier right next to it, both ships spewing countless dropships and Seraph fighters like maggots from a corpse.Small, pitched battles still broke out every once in awhile in various locations.
"The only question I have," the Captain said, interrupting Tanner's hellish vision of the city, "is why the hell we haven't been glassed yet. They're just send in dropships and fighters. I've been gettin' reports from all over the continent sayin' that they're glassing everything thats still got dirt. It's like they're looking for something." Tanner nodded absently.
"At least they didn't get the barracks and armory...This way, we might have a chance of holding out 'till the UNSC gets here. I dunno how long that might take, but we gotta try. Otherwise, we're all dead for sure. Better dead fighting that dead waiting for them." Tanner smilled grimly, and the Captain smiled back, without any mirth. He gave Tanner a pat on the back.
"That's the idea son," he said. "That's the idea."
Jim dived behind his uptuned couch just as a plasma bolt sizzled past his ear, almost lighting his hair on fire. He hit the ground hard, but the tatic worked. For a few seconds, he wasn't being shot at.
Crap Crap Crap Crap...Jim's mind wouldn't let him stop worrying about his imininet death. Gotta think of something. Anything that'll keep me alive for a bit longer so I can think of something else to keep me alive longer...Then he looked over to what was lying right next to him, and thought of something. It was stupid, and it only worked in the vids, but it was the only thing he could think of that might work. Jim got on his knees, and grabbed his TV remote.
The Elite 'Nosolee grinned in his victory. Any moment now, the human would foolishly peek up from his cover, like all other humans did, and he would see 'Nosolee's plasma rifle right in his face, about to vaporize his face. If he didn't 'Nosolee would simply lob a plasma grenade to vaporize him anyway. Victory was assured. He had just decided to throw the grenade, just to be careful, when a voice called out from the room beside him.
"I'll give you to the count of ten to get your dirty, stinking posterier out my office." The voice was laced with venom and contempt. 'Nosolee wheeled toward the sound and opened fire. The human architecture in front of him disintegrated. When he was satisfied he had eliminated the threat, he stopped, and turned back to the human. Incredibly, he heard the voice once more.
"One! Two! TEN!" Bullets exploded from the source of the voice as it laughed maniacly. 'Nosolee panicked and dived behind a table, his rifle clattering to ground. When the gunfire was over, 'Nosolee peeked up over the table. Right into the barrel of his plasma rifle, with Jim at the handle. Jim dropped the remote, and pulled the trigger.
"Here they come again!" Someone screamed out of the smoke, and two-hundred and thirty-nine Battle Rifles opened up. Corporal Tanner's Rifle remained silent. He scanned the dark smoke, looking for potential survivors attempting to flee from the current wave of Covenant.
None got even close to the hastily-made camp of the remains of Gamdon VI's Royal Army. All that were left of it were two-hundred fourty soldiers, pathetic compared to the once mighty force of two thousand, along with a half dozen Longsword fighters, Pelicans, and Scorpian tanks. And the 'camp defences', if you could call it that, were barely adequate. A small row of tenches, lined with outside-facing sandbags, along with a few rows of barbed wire, turrets, and the occasinal small hill for snipers, were the only defences of a rapidly expanding refugee camp.
Then Tanner saw something. Something humanoid. An Elite? Or maybe-Tanner griped his rifle tighter- a Brute. But no, out came someone stumbling out of the smoke, a plasma rifle griped in his hand. He looked like the text book example of a civilian. Hair golden blond, short, slightly stocky build. This guy probably hadn't seen a day of real hardship until today, and he showed it. The guy turned around and fired back into the smoke, running backwards. Tanner looked over and saw, that in their desperation, the soldiers next to him were going to shoot at the human as if he was Covenant.
"Don't shoot! DON'T SHOOT!" Tanner yelled and climbed over the sandbags and vaulted over the barbed wire. He grabbed hold of the guy, who was still firing. The man jumped visibly and turned to fire, then he saw Tanner was human. He seemed to realize that Tanner meant to help, and followed his hand gestures toward the opening in the defenses, and they both ran like hell well the soldiers in front covered their less than dignified retreat.
When they finally reached the safe line with the rest of the refugees, Tanner turned to the man.
"Who are you? And how the hell did you get that rifle without becoming part of the Covenant?!" Tanner demanded.
"The name's Jim." Jim said. "The rest...well, it's a long story."
"It sure as hell must be. Go get yourself pathced up and come help us with the defense when you're ready. If a single man could remove an Elite of it's weapon, lets see what you can do with a gun."
The Battle for Gamdon VI (Chapter Three): Time Shift Part I
Date: 15 September 2006, 3:41 am
The Battle for Gamdon VI (Chapter Three): Time Shift Part I
"This is stupid. Can't we do anything other than this? Sleeping, perhaps?" Mech grumbled the words into his gun as he inspected it for anomalies and the Pelican around him jostled as it hit a air-pocket. The men around him nodded and laughed their agreement. Sarge, who was standing near the rear-access ramp in the Pelican, turned and walked toward him, his face a storm cloud. Damn. He'd forgotten to turn off the MJLONIR's external speakers. Again. He still hadn't got used to this thing. How could those SPARTAN-II's stand it? Unlike other SPARTANs, who were, 'natural'-that is, trained and augmented by already proven methods and given the MJLONIR suits for free- Mech had had to kill for his suit.
Wait. Sarge was close enough to speak. Mech studied the face. Just the same as all the other times he had studied it. Black, with the usual contrast of bushy gray-white hair that was still going strong even though he had to be at least forty-five. Eyebrows the same as the hair, with rather beady eyes underneath them. Just another face you saw laying in a ditch while bullets were flying. Sarge didn't look amused.
"You don't look amused, Sarge." Mech said, giggling a bit as he said it. It never ceased to amuse him that people expected him to be robot-like when talking to people. People just naturally assumed he was more comfortable in the battlefield than in real life, like all the other morale-boosting SPARTAN heroes. Not Mech. He hadn't been a SPATAN since the beginning, so maybe that was why he didn't have that battle-is-home kind of feeling. People always looked uncomfortable when he joked or talked sarcastically with them. But he should stop looking back. Better to look forward. The past brought the nightmares.
"I ain't, Danny. And I'll pretend I didn't hear your first remark. You know why we gotta do this. Who knows what the hell is going on Gamdon VI. Have you heard the reports?" Sarge's eyebrows rose at this. Mech rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, yeah. I dunno how the planet could be like this. I mean, radioing for help, saying that there's Covies everywhere and they need backup after the UNSC ships here went to Oblivion? And then, here we come, save-the-day heroes, and there is no sign of battle. No ships. No hostiles. The whole damn planet hasn't lost a cloud. And still, they're radioing us, sending the same message over and over. So now we gotta go down, make sure everyone hasn't OD'ed on some kinda insanity gas or water or whatever, and report back to the brass. A total-time waster. I could be on Trayne right now! Trayne, Sarge! Trayne! And instead I have to do this?" Mech looked at him, a face full of mock-sorrow behind the visor. Sarge still seemed to see, however. The bastard must be a mind reader as well as the only guy who didn't give a damn if you were God himself, as long as you got your job done.
"You bet your fancy MJLONIR suit we do. You know the UNSC rules for the war: 'If any planet, colony, or human settlement send distress signals of the enemy, the UNSC is required to answer these calls as long as no other planet of greater importance is in distress as well.' So now we just have to check these people out to make sure everything's good, then we can go back up and you can go back to your pretty little Albatross and train with your bestest buddies all you want. And if you're good I'll give you a cookie. How's that?" Sarge finished his little speech with a trace of sarcasm.
"Fine," Mech said. "But I hope it turns out as good as you say."
Sarge snorted, nodded, and headed back to his seat at the back of the Pelican. Discussion over.
The Pelican skipped over the air currents over the currently sunny noon of Gamdon VI, blowing back the occasional high-reaching tree. Sand swirled all around the beautiful planet's capital. Lush greens, buildings pleasing to the eye, bordered by a sweeping tan desert on all sides gave the town the feel of an oasis in the middle of a desert. In fact, if one traveled for about ten miles, they would find bland green-gray fields full of endless prairie grass, interrupted by the occasional stream, hill, or, in the case of the town of Gandervill, a large river.
None of this was in the minds of the soldiers departing from the Pelican, where already a crowd was forming. Mech, however, passed his eyes over the lovely landscape and felt a brief stab of jealously of how good this world had it, and how it didn't seem to realize it.
The crowd, by then, which had been gawking unashamedly at the soldiers the whole three seconds it took for Mech to process these thoughts, let out a collective gasp at the sight of the 'prototype' S-III. He ignored them, glancing through the faces until he the one he deemed the most important. He stepped toward him, and the man noticed. He started quaking. Mech sized him up. A little chubby, with the usual 'blubber of easy living', as Mech called it. Not to tall, not to short, and a face that looked forgettable. Bright, red hair that contrasted almost painfully with his deep brown eyes and black suit, which must have been like a oven in the heat the MJLONIR's sensors were telling him (98 degrees). The man opened and closed his mouth multiple times.
"You." Not a greeting. Just a fact. The men shook visibly, and nodded.
"Y-yes?"
"What's you name and position?" Mech toned down what he called his 'give-me-the-answers-before-I-kill-you' voice. It was always fun to mess with people who believed that you could do the impossible. But he didn't want the guy to be a gibbering idiot with fear. Fear screwed you over when you didn't want or need it the most.
"U-uh, Ja-Jacob Ronswell. I'm as-assistant t-to th-the Mayor of the ca-capital." Even with the stuttering in his voice, Mech could clearly hear the pride in his voice. The guy had probably spent years clawing his way, and sometimes backstabbing people he had worked with for years, to get the position. And the guy was proud of it. Typical politics.
"Good. Take me to him." Mech ramped up the tone of voice. Make the maggot feel a little worse. No more than he deserved.
"N-now?" The guy spluttered. Mech suddenly became aware of everyone around him. They were dead silent. Why wasn't anyone, especially the other soldiers, doing anything? Then, with eerie realization, Mech figured it out. They were all fascinated with Mech scaring the crap out of this guy. Mech was fascinated with it, himself. He'd honed this talent over years, and he had just realized he was a master at it.
"Now." It amazed Mech that whatever he said usually evoked a positive result, at least for him. Jacob swallowed with a gulp that sound more theatrical than real. Great. Now the guy was playing to an audience. Then he turned, motioned with a hand, and walked away. Mech looked back to the soldiers behind him, and nodded his command. "Let's go."
They looked each other over, seemed satisfied, and they followed Mech. Right into the weirdest situation they could have imagined. Right into the Mayor's building. Right into a plain, unadorned, building that looked like any other city hall you would expect.
Right into what would later become a smoking crater of fire, rubble, and bodies.
Mech
The Battle for Gamdon VI (Chapter Four): Time Shift Part II
Date: 3 November 2006, 4:18 am
The Battle for Gamdon VI (Chapter Four): Time Shift Part II
Jesus Christ! They're breaking through! Someone help us! Repeat, this is Gamdon VI! The covies are breaking through! Our position is about to be overrun! UNSC command, please respond! WE ARE BEING OVER- [static]
-Radio Transmission received from Gamdon VI, five standard minutes before drop ship containing a recon party from the UNSC Destroyer Thor
Mech pushed the thick wooden doors of City Hall open. They seemed a bit too thick. Then again, it coincided with that old saying about power perfectly.
Those with power are afraid to lose it.
At least one of the council members must have ordered it. Mech filed the doors away as probable cover, in case things went ugly. Although less 'complete' as the S-II's training with Mendez, Mech had learned his own share of lessons while in his own 'training and building'. He strode forward, following the still-terrified assistant up the long hallway. The metronome-like tap, tap, tap of his and the soldier's boots echoed around Mech. Various paintings from around the system were mounted on the wall. Mech glanced at each, noting the rarity and expense the paintings must have been. Money that could have gone to improving the city, instead of city hall. Politics. Again.
Finally, they reached another set of huge wooden doors. This time, though, the assistant walked up to a shiny metal intercom. Just as he was about to press the SPEAK button, Mech walked up to the doors, noted their weight, and pushed. The doors swung forward slowly, the hydraulic holders braced against the other side screeching against the pressure. Finally, the holders finally gave it. With a crack that echoed around the hall like a gunshot, the doors swung in. Mech could almost sense the soldiers behind him give a slight grin of approval. Mech was not going to wait for some toady to let them in to meet a rich and greedy excuse for a mayor.
Mech walked into the room, while a quivering secretary pushed herself deeper into a dark corner. The assistant was already gone; he had taken off as soon as Mech had broken the doors. Mech turned toward her, and as he did, the secretary gave a frightened little squeak. The room was a plain, brown-painted office that contrasted with the hallway's grandeur. Two ornate doors lead off to other rooms.
"Which door is the mayor's office?" Mech spoke it kindly, feeling slightly bad about scaring her. The secretary seemed startled by the kindness in his voice, and Mech's anger at the SPARTAN project burned a little hotter. Damn those UNSC higher-ups who spread the lies that SPARTANs were like machines on the battlefield. The rumors alienated the other SPARTANs to everyone but themselves. The secretary meekly pointed to the left door, and Mech nodded to her, motioned to his soldiers to follow, and pushed through the door.
Mech looked around. The room was empty. A mahogany desk, glinting dully, sat in the middle of a rug that must have been from Egypt itself. Files, still open, sat on the desk. Huge windows with lush red curtains were behind the desk, offering a magnificent view of the capital below. Delicate artwork and furniture dotted the room. But, most interesting of all, a gargantuan bookcase, worthy of the UNSC library, dominated the wall on the left. Stacks upon stacks off books jostled for Mech's attention, with titles like 'MOBY DICK', 'THE JUNGLE', and multiple other classic books that were older than the antique shuttles from the year 2000. But this did not interest the soldiers standing in the room. One of the bookcases had swung away, revealing a dark flight of steps that lead who-knows-where. Mech checked his motion sensor. Nothing.
Mech turned around, and spoke to his soldiers.
"Jacob, Stanley, you two come with me. We'll investigate where this rabbit hole goes. The rest of you, stay here and hold position, just in case someone tries to catch us by surprise. I think the Mayor here thinks we're trying to put him down, and doesn't want that. If we're not back in-" Mech checked his mission timer. "-an hour, head back to the drop ship and go back to the ship. Then tell the Captain what happened. He'll know what to do." He put his gauntleted hand of each of his soldiers. "Good luck men, I hope we see each other again. Close the bookcase behind us." The men nodded, but rolled their eyes. Mech smiled behind his faceplate. They all thought he was invincible. He hoped he wouldn't let them down. He glanced at Jacob and Stanley, nodded, and then strode down the stairs. The men behind them shut the fake bookcase behind them with a thunk.
Mech's boots made clunking noises that a deaf man couldn't have heard. Mech didn't care. The way he saw it, if the mayor ran, it meant he was guilty of something, since he wouldn't have run in the first place. Hell, he had technically already run by going through this stupid secret passage. If Mech was lucky, the mayor would be cowering down in some bunker he had undoubtedly built for an emergency. Cheap, electric torches shined up at the ceiling, revealing a damp, medieval-like stone wall. Finally, he got to the bottom. In front of him was a pair off titanium elevator doors. Unless a pair of missiles or high-explosives appeared out of mid-air, they were stuck until someone opened the doors from the inside. The two soldiers behind him stirred uneasily. Mech felt something, too. His soldier sense was buzzing. Something was wrong. Mech glanced around, a saw a speaker-box similar to the one on the door he had broken into. Mech pressed the SPEAK button, and spoke.
"Mr. Mayor? This is Mech, also known as SPARTAN-666 in some black-ops circles. We are here to answer questions according to the emergency distress transmissions being sent to the UNSC high-command. We are not here to demote you, hurt you, or send you to prison. I repeat, we just want to know what's going on here. Please respond."
"Yeah, sure you are. I'm not moving unless you can guarantee me what you just said. Or you can send in one of your men, unarmed, as a hostage. Then you can come in and talk. You'll be unarmed, yourselves." The mayor's reedy voice crackled over the speaker. Mech thought through the deal. It seemed reasonable, even if it was a bit stupid. Even without weapons, the mayor should know Mech was dangerous. Still, it was the best he could get right now. Mech clicked the speaker.
"Agreed. I'll send in my guy, and you can pat him down before we come in. We'll even wait until you say to come in. Then I and my other soldier will come in, also unarmed. I will not remove my armor though. Is that satisfactory?" Mech unclicked the button. A long silence was heard in reply. Just when he thought of asking again, the doors slid open. A second set of steel elevator doors were just across the threshold. Mech nodded at Stanley, and the man nodded in reply. He put down all of his weapons, and smartly stepped across. The doors behind him closed, and when they opened again, he was gone.
"Okay, you next, SPARTAN-boy." The voice called out. Mech rolled his eyes. He turned to Jacob, and signaled him to stay in case of trouble. Jacob nodded, and Mech put down his own weapons, deactivated his shields visibly, and stepped in the elevator. The doors hissed shut behind him, and then opened in front. Mech gazed in a mixture of contempt and awe at the furnished 'bunker' before him.
Luxurious carpets, furniture, and paintings dotted the room, much like the regular office above. The only hint that he was in a bunker were the heavy concrete walls with reinforcing steel beams. Otherwise, this could have been a presidential suite at the most expensive hotel Mech could imagine. Standing in the middle of the room, with a pistol to Stanley's forehead (who was remarkably calm, considering the circumstances), was a medium-build, old-looking man. His hand was shaking visibly, as with most people when they saw a fully armored SPARTAN. But not enough that he could be taken advantage of. The gun he held was a M6D. The pistol was old, but it was much, much stronger than the wimpy little M6C, which had awestruck Mech that an army would throw away such a useful little weapon in favor of something worse.
The mayor gestured toward an empty chair that was probably worth more than a middle-class citizen. Mech understood and sat in it, being careful not to exert his weight on it, lest he broke it. The mayor eyed him again, and spoke.
"Okay sonny, you've got some explaining to do. You just barge into our sector, land without a transmission, and then barge into my office. All of this without stating your intentions. Now give me a reason." Mech sighed. This was going to be much more complicated and weird than he had thought. He exhaled again, and replied.
"Sir, like I said, we are not here to throw you out of power or whatever, even if it does seem you're spending the money for yourself." The mayor threw him a venomous look, but Mech ignored him and pressed on. "We're just here to find out what the hell is happening. Listen to this." Mech played an audio recording over his external speakers. A frightened, tired voice sounded, with sounds of a battle behind him.
Jesus Christ! They're breaking through! Someone help us! Repeat, this is Gamdon VI! The covies are breaking through! Our position is about to be overrun! UNSC command, please respond! WE ARE BEING OVER-
Mech cut off the transmission as static enveloped.
"As you can see, sir, UNSC did send a rescue force. Us. Currently, there are twenty warships above our heads, since this planet is such a valuable natural resource, compared to other planets. We arrive approximately two standard hours ago, and spent about half of that monitoring radio signals, as well as the planet itself. Although this planet is unharmed, the ships were still receiving messages asking for help. Now, sir, I'll ask you the questions. What is going on here?"
The mayor shook his head wonderingly. He seemed bewildered, and he slowly put the pistol on a coffee table next to him, which did not escape Mech's notice.
"I don't know how you did it, but that's the voice of my highest-ranked military officer, a man by the name of-" Before the mayor could finish, sudden alarms went off, and a radio in the corner of the room went off. Everyone in the room jumped, but the mayor was halfway to the radio by the time Mech's soldiers.
"What's the matter, son?" The mayor asked. A frightened, tired voice replied.
"Sir, we h-have ju-just spotted mul-multiple contacts on our long r-range radar. We h-have received reports of-" the voice paused, and an audible gulp was heard. "- twenty Covenant ships inbound. We'll try to- What!? What's the readings!? Oh my god. They fired on us! Sir! We are under attack, incoming plasma is about to hit the reactor!" Static exploded onto the radio as the line went dead for a moment, then the voice came back. "We've been hit…sir, I'm-I'm getting dizzy. I-I think they h-hit the life support system. We…we don't have much longer. I think…I think I was the only one who…who made it. Please…send some backup. Wait…some alarm is going off…what? The AI is saying the coolant pipe just failed. Well. I guess this is h-how I'm going to d-" Static came as a tremendous explosion rocked the bunker.
"What the hell was that!?" Stanley demanded. He had slowly been inching his way toward the pistol, until he was thrown out of the chair. Mech felt a cold pit of fear in his stomach. This was the Covenant attack. Training sims about worst-case scenarios instantly kicked in. He grabbed the mayor by the cuff of his expensive shirt and slammed him against the wall.
"Is there a more secure room than this? Something that dosen't have heavy furniture that can fly around in it?" Mech snarled the words out. The mayor gulped and nodded, and shakily pointed to a side room. Satisfied, Mech said, "Okay. Stanley, you go out and check on the guys. Jacob is probably already up there. Report back ASAP. If the reports are true, we need to set up a defensive perimeter down here. Double time!" Stanley punched in the door controls, and dashed out when they opened. Mech jogged to the side room the mayor had pointed out, with the politician following behind him. Mech opened the doors, and glanced around.
There was a long hall, with multiple concrete barriers spaced far enough to make it easy to dash from one cover to the next without fear of being hit, but far enough that enemies trying to take the hallway would still be hard-pressed to stay under cover. At the end, another set of elevator-like door stood. Mech went up, and the mayor put in a code. Instantly, the doors opened, and Mech went inside. The room was a survivalist's and defender's dream. Auto-turrets with friend/foe settings were attached to the walls, but welded into a position that prevented them from aiming anywhere but the door. A hallway that branched into two sections, each with two more elevator door, completed it. More concrete barriers dotted the way. The mayor pointed at each door in turn.
"This door-" he pointed at the left, "leads to the command center, while the other leads to a store room and barracks, with a secret hangar at the end." Mech nodded admiringly. The mayor may have spent tons of tax money, but he sure knew how to make a fallback point.
"Okay, I'll head back to my men. You stay here and prep the place. I'll be back in about twenty minutes." He put a hand on the man's shoulder. "You planned this out pretty smart."
The mayor grinned back. "'Those with power are afraid to lose it.'" He quoted. "I made sure I won't be the one to do that." Mech smiled under his faceplate, and dashed back.
Five minutes later, Mech arrived at the top of the stairs.
At least, what was left of them.
A smoking, still burning crater was all that was left. Mech's hearts suddenly seemed to stop beating. He took two shaky steps forward, and fell to the ground, his knees crushing the burnt wood beneath him. Stanley lay face-up in the wreckage, multiple plasma burns on his chest and face. He was quite clearly dead. Mech glanced up. What he saw chilled him.
A monstrous-looking Covenant ship floated about him, gravity elevator glowing and humming. Small, black dots sped toward Mech, and adrenaline kicked in as he realized they were Elite drop-pods. He turned, and then seemed to remember something. He grabbed Stanley's grenades, set the detonator to five minutes, and buried them far enough so they wouldn't be seen. Then he primed them, and dashed back down the stairs. Hell rained down demons and fire around him.
He didn't look back.
-Mech
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