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Fallen Angels: Operation Angeles: Chapter 2-Contact
Posted By: Captain Bishop<digifighter@aol.com>
Date: 30 March 2006, 8:16 pm


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Ninth Age of Reclamation
Covenant CCS-Battle Cruiser Pious Inquisitor
Sol-III
Invasion of the Human Homeworld


      The Pious Inquisitor hung over the western hemisphere of the human homeworld called Urth. Ship Master Anea 'Uahamee sat in his command chair awaiting the signal that he was waiting for. As the rest of the fleet was engaged above the human continent Afrikka, the High Prophet of regret had sent Pious Inquisitor to obtain another glorious artifact of the mighty Forerunners. It had been many hours since the invasion of Urth, but the sign that he had been hoping for finally came.

      "Your Excellency," one of the subordinates turned to the Ship Master, "we have found the signal."

      "Are you sure?" he didn't expect to find the signal so soon.

      "Yes, your Excellency." the subordinate said, "It is located in a human held region called Las Anjelees. Shall I call for the consent of the Prophet of Regret?"

      "Yes, do it."

      "He shall be in your command quarters, your Excellency."

      Anea 'Uahamee, stood before a holographic projection of the High Prophet of Regret, his gold armor reflecting the light from the hologram in different directions. Anea quickly bowed as the Prophet turned his attention from his map of the Human City, Nuu Mombassah, to the Ship Master.

      "Noble Prophet of Regret, I bring news of the Artifact we had located in the Western Hemisphere of the Human Homeworld."

      "Continue, Ship Master. What have you discovered?" The Hierarch eagerly replied.

      "My lord, it is as we have thought." The Zealot paused amazed by the discovery, "It is yet another of our lords' sacred creations! The Atlas has been found!"

      The prophet stat in his hover-throne, stunned by the discovery. "The Atlas? Are you sure?" The Ship Master rechecked his data. He looked back up to the Prophet and the astonished look on the Sangheili's face had confirmed his suspicions.

      "Yes my lord. I am sure of this."

      The Prophet seemed puzzled of what to do, at first, but a split second later the Hierarch has made his decision. "Ship Master, send a fleet of your best soldiers to recover the Atlas."

      Anea quickly interjected Regret's plan. "But my lord, the Atlas is beneath a human city!"

      Regret slammed his bony fist on the right arm-rest of his hover-throne. "Dig beneath it, burn the structures to the ground, do whatever it takes! But whatever you do you must not fail to reclaim the Atlas! With the Atlas the Covenant shall know the location of the other artifacts, the sacred rings, the Ark, and our Great Journey shall begin!" the Prophet's eyes glowed with a determination.

      "Ship Master 'Uahamee, do not fail me."

      "I shall not and never will, Noble Hierarch." The Sangheili solemnly said.

      "Let us hope not." With that, the Prophet's holographic figure vanished, and the Ship Master was left alone in his command quarters.

      After a few moments of contemplating a plan for retrieving the Atlas, Anea 'Uahamee quickly walked back to the ship's communication station, to hail his best Special Operative Squad. And then the retrieval of the Atlas shall begin.




November 3, 2552 (Standard Military Calendar)
1908 Hours
Earth/ New Angeles, United States
ETA 2 minutes
Operation Angeles


      "Pull us in…there." Bishop told the pilot.

      He pointed to an abandoned city park roughly ten kilometers from the original clicks. The trio of pelicans that made up Foxtrot, Talon, and Lima squads made their way to an open, scorched field.

      "Once we touch down," he ordered into the comm, "Check your gear. Then form the squads. Is that clear?"

      16 red acknowledgement lights winked on his HUD. As soon as the acknowledgement lights flashed the pelicans landed. The engines kicked up dust as they slowed for the landing. Blades of dead grass and clouds of dirt shrouded the soldiers as they unloaded from the pelicans.

      "Pile out! Go, go, go!"

      The pilot of Victor 667 spoke through the comm to Bishop. "Call for us if you need an evac."

      The Captain nodded. "Understood." The pilot replied with a salute. As Bishop turned away, the engines roared to life and the pelicans were gone.

      He activated his comm to speak to Gunnery Sergeant Maxwell. "Sergeant do you read me, over"

      "We read you loud and clear. What is your current position, over."

      "Around eleven clicks from your position. We'll be there as soon as we can, over."

      "Roger that. Just get here as soon as you can. There starting to hit us harder, over."

      "We'll keep that in mind. Over and out."


      Bishop's private comm link opened and could hear the voices of the two other squad leaders. Leader of Talon, Second Lieutenant Hope McNeil was first to speak.

      "So…what's the plan?" Her sharp voice questioned.

      Bishop gave a sigh then started. "We were supposed to take back a recently captured military base. This was the second place the Covenant hit when they invaded the US. No one knows why. Charlie Company was to take us there by foot. Apparently the Covenant put up a pretty tight air patrol and the area was too dangerous, with the mine fields, to risk a drop." Bishop paused. Where the hell is he. "Smith!"

      "Yeah, I'm here. Just checking supplies." Sergeant Major Brantley Smith replied leisurely.

      "Damnit, we're on a mission! Stop acting like this is a friggin' walk in the park!" Bishop always got irritated with Brantley's cockiness. Bishop could here a sigh of ignorance over the comm. He was one hell of a shot, but too immature. "This is a direct order, Sergeant."

      There was a brief moment of silence. "Sir, I'm kind of worried about this mission." Brantley stated sternly.

      "What for?"

      But before any of them could speak any more, three Covenant Ghosts came into view in the street next to the park. They sped down the street avoiding chunks of debris from destroyed buildings.

      "Contacts!" Brantley said as the Ghosts closed in on their position. "Ghosts. Must be a recon group."

      "No shit!" Hope exclaimed as she rolled out of the way of the charging Ghost. She opened up the comm system, and suddenly the system was filled with the leaders barking commands.

      "Corporal! Cook the bastard!" Corporal Shane Jones fired a round from his M41 "Jackhammer". The rocket found its target and locked on. The impact flung the Grunt from the cockpit with such force that the corpse literally fell apart in the air. Torso one way, the legs another.

      "Here comes the welcome party." Jeremy said, barely audible over the explosions. "Three more Ghosts heading this way!"

      The ghosts veered around a row of hedges in the deserted park where a few ODSTs lay hidden, waiting for the right moment for an ambush. The ghosts came past them at an angle exposing the grunt pilots.

      The ODSTs bared their fangs and struck head shots at the Grunts with deadly precision, the 9.62 mm rounds of their BR55-A2 battle rifles, tearing right through the oblong skulls of the Grunts. This was how the Fallen Angels fought; ruthlessly aggressive, they take no prisoners. They watched out for each other, willing to take a lethal blow for the good of the team.

      "Contacts neutralized." A cold, metallic voice said over the comm system. Spartan 242 had shot at the odd canisters under the left wings of the ghosts watched as the explosion sent a piece of metal at the grunts methane tank, and set it off like a rocket.

      "Look!" one of the ODSTs exclaimed, "Fireworks!" Another one chuckled and punched him in the arm at the remark.

      The Spartan looked around at the marines. ODSTs were always tough to the core but this division was different. They held no prejudice against her. They were all friendly and accepted her as a normal marine. Just a foot taller and outweighing them by over eight hundred lbs. She felt more comfortable with the Fallen Angels than with any other outfit besides the Spartans. But nothing could replace the feeling of duty and acceptance she had with her brothers and sisters of the Spartan II program.

      "Status report, Freeman!" Bishop coughed out. The smoke from the wrecked vehicles made his eyes watery.

      "We got two KIA. Pity." Freeman replied solemnly.

      The squads stood still in silence to honor their fallen comrades. Corporal Nicholas Young of Talon Squad gave a short prayer. "Amen."

      Spartan 242 walked toward the Captain. "Captain, I suggest we get settled in for the night. The New Angeles UNSC Marine Base will most likely have enough fire power for Charlie Company to last the night. Besides, we need your marines in top condition if we're gonna stand a chance against the Covenant." They each looked at the battle weary soldiers. 242 was right.

      The Lieutenant keyed on the comm system and sent a message to Charlie Company.

      "Charlie Company, this is Captain Jacob Bishop. Squad Leader of Foxtrot Squad of the Fallen Angels. We are bunking out in a building about ten clicks from you locale. Is this alright?"

      Bishop waited half-a-minute for a response. "Affirmative Lieutenant. My boys can last the night. The Covies bugged out at the last minute. Said something about a demon coming or something. Hell I don't know."

      "Affirmative Sergeant. We'll leave at 0200 hours. I hope you can last that long."

      "Alright. We'll see you soon, hopefully."


      The Fallen Angels found a small town house. The front door was bashed open and there were alien foot prints in the dirt of toppled planters. Thankfully there were no bodies in sight. Supposedly all the civilians were evacuated post the New Mombassa invasion and sent to the underground bunker complex the UNSC had just recently completed. Work began on it after the destruction of Harvest in 2535, the construction was 86% completed after the fall of Reach in 2552.

      There were splinters and shards of ceramic from the planters. The Covenant must've thoroughly searched this place. Sofas and chairs were toppled over. Curtains were torn from the windows sills. Tables and stool were jumbled on the kitchen floor. No square inch of the town house was left unchecked.

      "Mc Neil, Smith." He addressed the other squad leaders, "post your best sniper and spotter on the roof. Spartan 242 will be taking command of them for guard duty." He looked over to the Spartan who nodded and hefted a S2-AM sniper rifle. She turned and walked toward the other two squads. "Darwin, Elric, Daniels." he continued to issue orders. "You three will be guarding the entrance. Remember, don't fire unless you know they've spotted you." The three privates nodded to their commanding officer. "Freeman, Barrett." he looked towards his best soldiers. "Alert me when things go haywire." With that he turned around to face the rest of the squad. "The rest of you!" The other ODSTs snapped to attention. "Get some rest. Your gonna need it. Move out!"

      "Sir, yes sir!" Kayla followed Jacob for a short while before speaking. "And you, sir?"

      "I'm gonna get some rest. Good work out there, Kayla. I can see you going places. Wake me up in an hour." He picked up a fallen stool and fell into a deep sleep. But unbeknownst to him, this would be Bishop's last restful sleep for the next few days.









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