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The Chronicle of Squad Omega: Chapter I
Posted By: Dark-NiTe
Date: 9 March 2004, 1:08 AM
Read/Post Comments
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The deafening sounds of war relayed off of the frigid canyon walls as a band of marines ran through the snow, their heels kicking up white puffs. The conflict between squads Delta, Omega and the Covenant force had been raging for a half an hour now, and the marines didn't have time for their progress to be impeded in this manner, and for this duration...
"Captain!" Robert Smitty yelled over the blast of the Wraith. The boulbous plasma projectile ripped apart an evergreen tree, sending it smashing down over the stone embankment the squad took cover behind. Snow from its outline rained upon them as he continued, "More of those bastards are coming! What the hell are we gonna do!?" Smitty was getting frantic.
Captain Vincent Alexander pondered the situation closely. He hunkered down with his AR close to his chest in thought. He had gotten through more hopeless situations on the battle-field than he could count, and he remembered some of them quite clearly. His peircing blue-grey eyes looked up at Smitty then, and he declared his verdict. "We're gonna find Delta. That's the best chance we got." Even though chances of success were sparse, he didn't feel overly insecure. He got up, black hair swaying in the wind over a thinnly bearded face, and stood behind the newly fallen tree-barricade. It's convenience almost made him laugh. "Wait for my call," he said, peeking over the tree.
Smitty looked to the rest of the squad, Jett Amarillo, Jon South, and Skye Firenze. The men all shivered in the biting cold.
"Now!" Captain Alexander yelled. Without hesitation, the band leapt up and ran after their leader. Their rifles blazed relentlessly at the Covenant onslaught that rained upon them. Jon strafed after the group cutting down Grunts that feebly tried to intercept them. They all tried to keep a safe, clear space around them, never letting their enemies get closer. They made their way to an overturned Warthog, squad Delta scattered around it.
"Captain Stryfe, good to see you," Vincent greeted.
"Likewise," he said, surprised that Omega actually made it through the Covenant force. Unfortunately, their massive numbers were growing even more...the squads were getting impossibly surrounded at all sides. Vicent Alexander figured they only had one option.
"Captain Stryfe, we need to turn over this vehicle, and fast," Vincent said. The two squads of marines all listened intently. "Some men will have to cover us while the others turn this thing over."
"You heard him!" Captain Stryfe barked. "Do it!" Most all of the marines went to right the vehicle, and only Smitty, Amarillo, and South stood and shot into the stampede of death that raged toward them.
Jett Amarillo( a man of 17), however, was not the one to give up. He picked off the aliens furiously with staggering precision. Right now, the three were dealing with a wave of 6 Blue Elites, 10 Jackals, and maybe 10 to 15 Grunts coming up over a snowy ridge that hung over a frozen lake. The aliens climbed over the raise with the clear intent to kill. Jett pumped the rounds of his AR into an Elite, making that his second down. It twisted and fell into the snow, sloshing up the frost mixed with its own blood. "Damn," Jett muttered in exasperation, he knew more were still coming from the back...
Jon was clipping off Grunts in the front. He knew from past experience that even though the 'lil guys went down fast, they still were a threat. He glanced back to see how the others were doing.
The numerous soldiers gave it all they had in getting the Warthog up. They shoved it up partially, but it only fell back down every time. "Goddamn thing weighs a fucking ton," Skye Firenze panted. It was too heavy for them to lift.
Vincent got one of their rocket launchers in pure rage and frustration, and shot a shell into the Warthog.
"Holy shit!" three marines yelled all at slightly different times. The vehicle hurtled through the air spinning wildly, and landed with a blunt crash in the snow. Upright.
"Get in," Vincent said.
"Ten guys won't fuckin' fit on!" Skye protested.
"We'll make 'em fit," Captain Stryfe said. They all clambered onto the vehicle. Some resorting to hanging off the side with only one arm and their feet firmly achored on the side. Stryfe drove. Vincent Alexander was gunner. The car sped up to pick up Smitty, South, and Amarillo. In quick desperation, Smitty got on the hood, Jett holstered his AR and hung onto the drivers door with both arms, and South squeezed into the gunners area with three others. They were all jammed in as tight as they could be. Stryfe hit the acceleration.
They sped through the Covenant mowing them down in sprays of purple and blue blood. It showered the car, as did the plasma from the enemy's weapons. Smitty held onto the windshield for dear life, "Holy shit! I'm gonna die I'm gonna die! Help me sweet lord! Jesus! Jesus! Sweet mother of God have mercy on my pitiful soul!!!"
Vincent Alexander gunned down the pursuing Covenant swivling the mount in a blind rage. Spent shells fell like rain from the turret, scattering golden flecks into the white blanket of frost.
The Wraith fired.
All of them looked back. "Oh no. Not now...Not Now!" Vincent's voice swelled into panic. He was panicking...that hadn't happened since his starship almost combusted in slipspace on his way back to the Autumn.
They all looked forward.
A cliff.
Jett never expected to understand the course of his life, but why the hell did it have to end now? He knew there was no possible escape. They would either be incinerated by the Waith's blast, or careen off that cliff to their death.
He prayed for the first time in a while.
The blue plasma blast hit ground behind them, a huge blossom of white powder geysering into the air. The marines all cried out in fear at the realization of their impending doom as the car was flung into the air. They all hand that sickening feeling of weightlessness sweep over them as they spun in all directions into the sky like ragdolls. Jett was flung head over heels at a height that wasn't even comprehended by him yet. When he saw the icy plain nearly 100 feet below him, he gasped, "Oh my God." He was going to die. How...why? Being faced with his death...it was indescribable. Nothing like he had ever felt... He was surrealy sick. He watched Smitty hit the ice with a crack, his entire body went limp. Then, he saw Captain Alexander hurdle past him...
White hot pain. Jett screamed out as his head hit a branch jutting from a canyon wall. His legs caught a ledge, and he spun out of control through the air with added momentum. He twisted in the air with 30 more feet to go, and his chest banged against the branch of a tree this time. He couldn't breath or even think. He closed his eyes right before he landed on his back against the ice.
Captain Vincet Alexander saw Jett's entire fall. He really thought they could make it out of this one...but there was no hiding from it. It was over. He sucked in a sharp gasp as he hit a craig in the canyon wall while flying forward. His unconcious body then skittered face first down the wall, and landed in a snow bank with a mute thud.
Skye caught the ledge that Jett previously hit with his hands, and struggled in desperation to hang on. His face shook in strain. "Fuck...Fuck!" his grip slipped and he hit the same tree as Jett did on the way down, his back cracking loudly. He hit the ice and bounced off his back and turned in the air to land face down.
Jon South was the last to hit. He had watched almost every fall. That was almost enough to make him wish for death. But the last thing he really wanted was to die. He fell on his side into a huge bank of snow.
Silence.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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