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Absolution: Chapter VI
Posted By: Havok<detoxpunk@hotmail.com>
Date: 5 August 2004, 1:16 AM
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ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER VI
The staccato report of automatic weapons fire echoed in the nanotech facility. Cameras recorded the bombardment of tests the Forerunner fighter was going through. Right now, a platoon of marines was pounding the spacecraft with full auto fire.
The clips ran empty, and silence reigned once again. Scientists hurried forward to inspect the hull of the ship. Nothing. Not even a scratch. Dr. Halsey furiously typed notes into her data pad while she watched the close-up replay of the experiment. What was happening seemed illogical. Something else had to be going on here.
The doors behind her opened, and five jackhammer-toting marines stepped into the testing area. The data recorders were reset, and on cue, the soldiers opened fire. The missile launchers belched fire and smoke, and high speed cameras caught the impacts with beautiful clarity. Again, nothing. No, wait. Something happened. Dr. Halsey replayed the image on the screen, and upped the magnification. There. The magnified image showed the skin of the craft flexing and dispersing the warhead impact and detonation.
The size and force of the munitions brought in steadily increased. It was now obvious to everyone that although the skin of the fighter had a lot of give, it was unbreakable. Shaped charges made the impact area ripple like water. It was amazing to watch. Naval Intelligence specialists ran about, collecting and transmitting data. ONI had acquired one hell of a treasure trove.
________________________________________________________
The next few months left the entire scientific and military community breathless. More ships were fabricated, as well as several heavy space based weapons and ground vehicles. Scientists built translation suites into the vehicles, and slowly at first the technology was reverse engineered, and the ships were made suitable for human use.
_______________________________________________________
Sweat rolled off Heines' nose. It fell to the ground and splashed into the dust. God I really hate this place. He thought for the hundredth time since his force landed on this miserable excuse for a planet. The sun loomed huge and unforgiving in the sky, and never seemed to set.
The sound of scorpion tanks thundering behind him in a never ending roar dulled his senses, threatening to drive him insane. He turned around and surveyed the land behind him. His force of ten thousand had been reinforced by an additional desert corps for this op.
Ever since ONI had managed to duplicate the Forerunner technology, every unit the UNSC could muster was on extended deployment. A major overhaul of weaponry and equipment made the equal fight on the ground severely one sided.
The Colonel looked down at his armor again, relishing the way it gleamed in the overbearing sunlight. The armor sheathed his entire body, with robust nanotech plates providing additional cover to the chest, forearms, thighs, hands, feet, and head. The material was silvery and was gentle on the skin, which every man no doubt appreciated.
___________________________________________________________
The Marine's eyes traveled from the body armor he wore to the decking of the warthog he rode on. Nanotech this, nanotech that. He thought, with mock irritation. Those ONI bastards will never let me have my fatigues back.
Corporal Whol was drumming over much the same things as Heines, though he was at the back of the formation, sitting on the side of a tank. He couldn't figure out for the life of him why ONI couldn't make the combat armor camouflage. The suits made them damn near invincible; that much was undeniable. But that didn't account for a whole lot if every enemy for a thousand miles saw you coming.
Suddenly over the next dune, the objective came into view. A massive covenant base. Jesus was the collective thought of all twenty thousand troops as the structures on the horizon got bigger by the second.
The scorpion tanks halted, pivoted, and fired their first salvo. The muzzle blast kicked up dust obscuring the tanks from enemy sensors. A second salvo was delivered, and then a third. The men on the tanks just hunkered down and waited. Some crawled under the tanks to find a safe spot to light a cigarette.
A half hour of solid firing devastated the outer walls of the Covenant base. The firing stopped, and the warthogs surged forward, faster and more agile than their heavy set counterparts. Massive treaded tired thudded over alien rubble and chain gun opened up on the few grunts who managed to survive the onslaught. The tanks finally reached the outskirts of the base and spread out, seeking targets of opportunity. The infantry hopped off of the tanks and split into four man squads to mop up the area.
________________________________________________________
"Sweet mother of pearl!" a quad blast of plasma seared the wall where Corporal Whol's head had been an instant before. A shade turret was tracking him, and the outcome of his personal battle right now didn't look good. The new armor was impenetrable, so he was told. The marine learned long ago not to trust anyone who made anything and guaranteed them to be one hundred percent effective. It just wasn't smart to work that way.
The turrets swiveled on it anti-grav pods and fired a sustained burst. Whol dove out of the way, but not fast enough to dodge a bolt that slammed into his midsection. Expecting immense pain, he was stunned to feel an intense cool instead. He slammed into the ground and looked down at himself. The plasma was still dissipating, rivulets of it drooling to the ground. Ok, shit can definitely not get any weirder than this. He crawled against the base of a half destroyed wall and peered around the end.
The elite in the gunner's seat manipulated the control, searching out any more targets. Whol reached to his utility belt and unclipped two frag grenades. Yanking the pins, he let the spoons fly and counted to three, then hurled them in a tight overhand arc right at the turret. The elite saw the incoming and tried to crawl out of the seat, but it was too late. The grenades hit the turret, splashing into the plasma anti-grav pod, and detonated.
A fierce blue plasma fire enveloped the elite, charring the armor and flesh instantly.
__________________________________________________________
Heines hopped off of the command warthog, and strolled around the broken ground, surveying the carnage. The base was littered with smoking fires. Covenant carcasses littered the area, smoking from the immense firepower that chewed through their now outclassed body armor.
He looked up as a flight of sleek Forerunner fighter-bombers screamed overhead, scouring the area around the base for runaways and stragglers. Pelican dropships fell from the sky, disgorging more troops and supplies. Gleaming machinery pushed away the rubble, and construction crews hopped off arriving maintenance tugs in preparation for rebuilding the base in a more human fashion.
The Colonel looked out at the horizon, the dominating sun burning a path through the night. It was time for the UNSC to take the offensive, and the future looked very bleak for the Covenant indeed.
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