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Anathema - Three
Posted By: Bloodcider<duiguy117@hotmail.com>
Date: 21 January 2005, 10:04 PM
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Three
1500 Hours, July 20, 2552 (Military Calender) / Sigma Octanus IV / Wildness North of Control Point Alpha, Extraction Zone
Nayap collapsed from exaustion, exhaling in relief. Somehow he had managed to do it, to drag an unconcious Elite over two miles, with a wounded shoulder. The bullet wound itself had reopened somehow, more than likely from Nayap stressing it so much. A stream of light blue trickled down his shoulder and across his side. A trail of it ran across the ground, be he doubt there would be anything following it. The pain wasn't as severe as it had been before, having now dulled down to a stabbing pain. Not all the much of an improvement.
Nayap picked up the small radio from Raka's helmet again. He opened a Comm. Link once more, and spoke into the mike.
"Hello?" He grunted.
"Who is this?" An Elite on the other end replied sharply. Nayap rolled his eyes, having had this conversation before.
"Nayap, Assault Squad, Sabotage Mission, Sigma Octanus Four. The Squad leader and I are in position, and ready for extraction." He replied.
"Put your squad leader on." The Elite barked.
"He's unconcious, and-"
"Oh, it's you." The Elite cut him off. "We tried to contact you a few hours ago, Grunt. Why was your communicator turned off?"
"I, uh...well, it wasn't." Nayap replied, surprised.
"That explains nothing." The Elite responded. He was right too, it didn't. Though, Nayap didn't know how he could have missed a radio call. The only time he was seperated from the radio was when he'd tackled Iziz over the hill.
Damn. That had to be it.
"Well, sorry for the inconvienience. What was it you were trying to tell me?" Nayap queried, his voice hesitant. He hoped the Elite wouldn't make a fuss over it. Though, they tended to do that alot.
"Due to the assault on the human command center, we are rerouting dropships to different locations. Your extraction isn't coming." He replied.
"What am I supposed to do?"
"If you can, you have to move to the third human camp. A dropship will be able to pick you up there."
"The third human camp?" An aggitated Nayap questioned, keeping his voice in control even through his fury, "Where is that?"
"It's to the North. Hurry up."
The line went silent.
Nayaps hand curled into a fist and raised the radio above his head. He caught himself in time, before he slammed if off the ground. Such acts of rage would not benefit him. He'd simply have to move onwards to 'the third human camp', wherever it was.
Even now, Nayap could see the smoke curling into the air in the distance. It was a likely spot to begin his search, and he would get to it in due time. He noticed the sun was setting, meaning he'd have to make his second tiring trek in the darkness.
Nayap let loose a growl. A growl of built up anger, and frustration. He brought his foot back and kicked the dirt. He wanted to kill something with his bare hands. He was tired, in pain, and after all he'd accomplished, it had been for nothing, as now he'd have to move even farther. He sighed, his shoulders sagged, and once more he began the tedious task of dragging Raka.
A throbbing pain began to rhytmetically pound into his mind, forcing him into an aware conciousness. His eyes snapped open, and Iziz let out a low hiss of pain. His hands gripped the dirt, and tried to lift himself from the ground.
The blood that had trickled from his head had managed to coagulate and stick to the tree. As he pulled away, the gooey substance stretched, then ripped the scab from his forehead. Iziz clutched the reopened wound with a cry of confused pain and anger, twisting his body and screaming, mistaking the sudden pain for an attack. He regained his posture, calming himself down to rationality when he realized he was alone.
Breathing ragged breaths, trying to overcome to the splitting pain in his head, Iziz tried to get a grip on his current situation. The sun hung low on the horizon, meaning he'd been unconcious for several hours. He could have missed the extraction. That also meant that the Grunt could have been extracted. Then, maybe he was still on his way there.
"I should have killed him when I had the chance." Iziz spoke to himself. "No, I can fix this. I..I can find him again. And kill him then." The more Iziz thought about it, the more pleased he became with himself. The pounding of his wound slowly but surely dulled down as he thought more and more about it. He could work his way out of this. Iziz had underestimated the Grunt, but he'd recover from it. All he needed to do was get to the extraction point. The Grunt would be there, or on his way there, and Iziz would end his miserable existance like every other Grunt.
"Yes, yes, yes, this was only a minor snag. I can fix it, and it will all work out quite nicely." The Jackal repeated. He climbed to his feet, retrieved the plasma pistol from his belt, and jogged off through the forest.
He would find the grunt, and he would kill it.
Second Lietenant Shawn Lowell had been just leaving the command building when a Warthog came rolling through the the check point at the front entrance. The traffic gate lowerd behind it as it stopped.
Sitting in the Warthog were three very bewildered looking Marines.
Lowell raised his hand, made a few gestures, and pointed towards the jeep. Four of the patrolling Marines accompanied him as he walk towards the Warthog.
"Report, Marine." He commanded, as he approached the drivers side.
"I'm in charge, Sir." The man in the passenger seat. Lowell looked over at him, and recognized him as Sergeant Sharp of Control Point Alpha. His uniform was soaked in various shades of blood and gore, and smeared with mud. His face was pale, his eyes distant. He looked like hell.
"Sharp." He nodded.
"Sir. Control Points Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie have been attacked by the Covenant." Sharp said quickly. "No survivors, except us."
Lowell raised an eyebrow in confusion. They'd received no emergency calls from any of the three bases, yet, he didn't know Sharp to be a liar. Not that he'd take a Warthog all the way to Firebase Delta to make a false claim. No, something had happened.
"Come with me, we'll discuss this inside." Lowell responded. He then turned his attention to the other marines in the jeep. "What're your names?"
"Corporal Gaudette, sir." The driver replied,
"Sir, Private Keller, sir." said the gunner.
"Very well. Report to medbay, some soldiers will show you the way." Lowell said, and looked back at two of the four Marines. "Men."
Gaudette and Keller climbed out of the Warthog, and were escorted to the medical bay by the two Marines. Sharp followed him inside the main building as a soldier moved the Warthog down into the parking garage.
One they were inside Lowells office, he started asking questions immediatly. "These attacks, when did they happen, and what exactly did happen?"
Sharp sat silent for a moment, looking as though he was trying to recall what had transpired.
"Private Keller and I had been out on routine patrol when we were attacked by four Covenant Ghosts. We destroyed 'em, only to get back to camp and find the twenty marines dead. I tried to contact Bravo camp, but got no response. But, I did get through to Charlie and managed to warn them. Keller and I drove off from Alpha immediatly after that. We found Bravo camp destroyed, all of the supplies ruined, and soldiers dead.
"So, we went to Charlie camp. We helped prepare defenses, but, the Covenant hit the camp hard. Wraith tanks, Bandit dropships, alot of infantry. If it hadn't been for my warning, the Jackhammer teams never would've been deplyed. Though, I don't see what it matters, aside from myself, Private Keller, and Corporal Gaudette, no one at Charlie survived. It's in the same shape as Bravo. Dead. We went from there to here right after we mopped up the rest of the Covenant."
Lowell sat back in his chair, stroking his beard thoughfully as he took in the information. At last, he spoke;
"You said Alpha is still in good condition?"
"Yeah, but the soldiers are d-"
"That's good for us then."
"How, sir?"
"Because, Sergeant, we're packing up. Leaving Sigma Octanus in less than a few weeks. You know what that means, right?"
"Uh...no, no I don't, sir."
"It means we've already begun shipping out supplies, Sergeant. Weapons, tools, vehicles, the whole nine yards. Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie still had those things, thats why the camps were there, incase of emergency. But now, the camps are destroyed, except for Alpha, which is strange. But, do you see the point I'm getting at?" Lowell said, he found himself leaning forward in his seat now, both elbows on the desk.
"I think so."
"It means that the Covenant destroyed our emergency supply caches. Meanwhile, we've already shipped out most of our main supplies. They took out the little fish, so the big fish has nothing to feed on to sustain itself."
Sharp sat back in his seat, paler than before. He swallowed, and talked, "Then w-what the hell are we going to do?"
Lowell rubbed the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, letting out a sigh. "There's not much we can do. For one, we'll have to find out how the Covenant knew we were packing up. Maybe they intercepted and decrypted a radio transmission, maybe they captured interrogated someone. Hell, maybe they were just damned lucky. But finding out will have to wait, I think, we'll have to get supply team out to Alpha to salvage what they can. Apart from that, we'll have to prepare for invasion."
"How much time do you think we have?" Sharp said after a moment.
The intercom crackled, and a alarmed voice shouted from the other end. "Hostiles sighted at extreme range, sir. Eight dropships and counting."
Lowell slammed his fist on the table, "Fuck." he exlaimed loudly. He pressed the button to transmit a message to the waiting marine on the other end of the intercom.
"Very well. Prepare for immediate emergency defense." He spoke.
"Yes sir."
Moments later, an airstrike alarm sounded out around the base, the long continuous horn drowning out the fantic shouts of Marines outside as they ran to their positions. Lowell turned to Sharp, who was now standing, clutching his MA5B rifle.
"We don't have anytime, Sergeant. Get your shit togeather, we're being invaded."
Iziz slowed to a jog, and gradually a stop, as he approached the designated extraction zone. But the Grunt was nowhere to be found. He bent over with his hands on his knees and attempted to catch his breath. He'd just run a very long distance in a short amount of time, something he wasn't quite used to.
But the Grunts are used to it, his mind informed him. The Grunts are fodder, they run around all day and get shot. They're worthless, I'm not.
A grin spread across the features of his face, and he exhaled once more. As he breathed in again, he caught the smell. It was a famliar smell, though he was more aware of smelling it on a much larger scale.
"Grunt blood." He spoke aloud, and looked around.
The shining blue blood of the the Grunt was trailed across the ground, and was not hard to see at all in the dimming light. The Grunt wasn't here, for some reason, he'd left. There were no signs of the Elite either, save drag marks on the ground.
"But why would he move..." Iziz wondered aloud. This was the extraction zone. Surely not even a stupid Grunt would forget such a thing. He had to have had good reasons.
Reasons Iziz would find out.
He walked along the trail of blood. It stopped just a few feet from his location, and pooled. Then, it continued onwards, with dragmarks on it aswell. The Grunt had taken the Elite with him, that much was clear. But there were no signs of struggle, even though there was blood. Iziz scratched his head, and tilted it to one side in a jerky, birdlike motion. He'd ask the Grunt what had happened before he killed it.
Iziz started off at a jog again, following the blood trail, and disappearing into the growing darkness.
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