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By the Skin of our Teeth by Kyle Stegerwald aka Pajari
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By the Skin of our Teeth Part 1
Date: 29 September 2004, 12:25 AM
(Author's note: Sorry for breaking off this story in mid-stride, more to come!)
The aliens swarmed through the gap like a kaleidoscopic river of reds, blues, and pinks - they toppled over broken barricades made hastily of rocks, gutted tanks, and warped steel. They clumsily swarmed over it all and made for our position. Screaming unholy war cries at the top of their lungs, filling the air with their rage and their fury, every one itching to get at us- every one striving to tear us apart.
They would never get us. We were as good as gone already.
The landing pad we were about to depart from was high atop the last remaining base in this region- the base situated inside of a pristine alpine gorge that was pristine no longer. No Marine, myself included, would ever forget the weeks-long siege that had just ended. The rocks of the gorge walls flowed like water before plasma barrages- the base shook for days on end with the massive artillery bombardment we had been subjected to, the Covenant died in scores before our swiftly dwindling forces. They had been held off for weeks now, they had been slaughtered- and it might have been our turn, but for a fortuitous twist of fate.
Do an old Marine the service of listening to his tale.
It all began at night, four weeks ago. We had been getting reports of Covenant patrol activity from our orbital sensors- but we didn't know how many of them there were or where their hiding spots were. On our very first patrol we ran into an entire Covenant LZ fifteen miles away from our base. I was on that mission, and I recall distinctly (this is not the sort of thing one forgets) the sheer an unadulterated horror that overcame me as I saw legions of them disembarking from their transports. The chill of the night seemed to suddenly slice right through my skin and into my very soul. Myself and five others in the recon squad laid flat on our bellies on the top of a tree-covered moraine a mile away, and took turns freaking out by looking through the lone set of binoculars we possessed. I spent all of two seconds peering through them- it was too much, even for me.
And believe me, I've seen a lot. I've stared down the barrel of a rifle more than once and lived to tell the tale. I've been in such ridiculous odds before, outnumbered ten, fifteen, a hundred to one, and pulled through. I've bailed out of a flaming plane from a hundred feet and not suffered a scratch. Let me tell you, I've seen everything now!
Back at base, the situation could be described as chaotic in the purest sense of the word. The word was out, not only at our base, but all across the planet, that the Covenant had launched a full-scale attack. Not just here- oh no! The squeaking freaks were everywhere. We had it easy, as I recall. Poor comrades on garrison duty at Echo V were attacked at night by four regiments' worth of aliens- don't know how they survived until the morning- except that not many of them did.
At any rate, what was happening at the other end of the planet had no bearing on what was going on here- we, as normal, could expect no reinforcement, while the enemy had practically limitless supplies of reserves to call up.
Well, you must be thinking by now, what else is new?
The aliens found us soon after our recon mission- they sent their first few waves of grunts at our defenses in the morning. We heard 'em coming through the pass long before we saw 'em, and when they came out onto the valley floor, we let rip. Fifty-caliber bullets tore massive gaps in their line, entire platoons of grunts were blown to pieces by Marine howitzers, and our snipers took special care to pop the Elites unfortunate enough to be commanding this mission, while the rest of us sat back and took potshots. We all knew when to save our bullets.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Well, allow me to rephrase that. It was uneventful for the enemy- it was one of the hardest days of my life. Setting concrete bunkers, strengthening the base defenses, mounting AA guns, re-stocking the howitzer pits and MG crews, and stringing mines and barbed wire in front of our positions.
You see, the main base was a bunch of concrete bunkers half-covered with soil and inlaid with titanium. It was surrounded by a circular concrete wall twenty meters high and ten meters thick. Outside this base was where the real fight was to take place- where the trenches, MG nests, and bunkers were placed. Inside the base was essentially the medical station, the support weapons, air support, and the landing pad, in case anyone decided to drop on by and lend a hand to the defense. We were so sure of outside intervention, that we set up a large antenna right in the middle of the landing pad so that we could jam Covenant transmissions and decode them.
The second attack wave was far more methodical and far more dangerous. The Covenant came on slowly, behind the protective shadow of their plasma tanks and under the cover of a rolling plasma barrage that slammed into our positions like a continuous, flaming shock wave. We Marines out on the line all hid like little girls in our bunkers and waited for the Covenant to come within what season Marines like to call 'the Teeth'- the point where there are four or more heavy weapons that can focus their attention on a single target from three or more angles. After the plasma barrage ended, we went out to the trenches again and waited to give the Covenant a taste of their own medicine.
"Squad four, do you copy?" the radio from bas cackled in the bunker just as I was leaving, behind my men. I turned around and rushed to the radio.
"Squad four here sir."
"What is the g-2?"
"The Covenant will be in the optimal firing range within one minute thirty seconds." I replied curtly and precisely into the microphone, my form hunched over the radio set and my rifle lying on the floor next to me, silently calling my name.
"Acknowledged. Base out." I heard a yelled command over the radio after that, but I didn't understand what it was until artillery shells began whistling over my head and settling with a muted thump into the Covenant formations. The delayed- action charges gave the impression of being duds- and the artillerymen lent credence to that perception by firing some exploding rounds too. The aliens, thinking that our equipment had simply malfunctioned, walked on, until...
A fiery blast rent the air and the shrieks of Covenant warriors pierced the eerie calm of the battlefield. Instantly the Covenant lines were thrown into a state of disarray, and then I moved outside the bunker and saw our entire air force- five troop transports- swoop low over the mass of troops and unload bombs, as Marine machine-gunners fired with wild abandon. The bombs tore great holes in the Covenant line and even managed to knock a few tanks out of action- one tank was slammed four times by bombs, and it is safe to say that the remnants of that particular tank are now in the stratosphere along with the rest of the dust. I grabbed my own weapon, set up the bipod, and let rip. I spent the entire clip firing at a group of jackals trying to form their shields into a protective barrier so that their brethren could chuck grenades at us. I knocked down three or four jackals with my high- caliber explosive ammo, before they got wise and started marching forward, shields locked and four deep, towards us. I threw a frag grenade, and to my endless surprise, an alien threw it back. He missed, naturally.
The Covenant broke into an all-out charge shortly after that, when they ran into our mines. Their formations were shattered, and they retreated in haste, under a withering barrage of Marine lead. It was a refreshing experience, watching them run, squealing, back to their improvised staging area at the head of the valley. I laid on my stomach up against the front of the trench, looking down the ironsights on my rifle and squeezing off rounds every now and then. I doubt I hit anything.
The radio once more cackled to life in the bunker, and I sprinted towards it, managing to catch the end of the first sentence: "-all platoon leaders listen up." Well, maybe I hadn't missed much.
"We are sending out the armor. Repeat: we are sending out the armor. All squads fit assault armor and loadout to level three. Assault in t minus two minutes. Base out."
Perhaps that statement bears some explaining- 'assault armor' was the works- breastplate, shin guards, helmet, etc. Level three loadout meant the close-in hard-hitting weapons. Pistols, shotguns, modified assault rifles. And of course, the phrase 'sending out the armor' meant we were going all-out, sending out our aging fleet of ten scorpion tanks to engage and hopefully slaughter the enemy. Before I had time to even grab a few clips and yell to my men to fit their armor, I saw a warthog scream over our trench, clearing the armored helmet of one of my men by a couple of inches and throwing up dust and rocks as it careened towards the Covenant firebase. What the hell was he doing?
I was interrupted once more by ten or more Warthogs flying over the trench in pursuit of their leader, Marine gunners hanging on to their machine guns and crouching to stay onboard their vehicle as the drivers floored the petal and hauled ass. It was a curious scene- one of those small ironies of war that people forget about. Here was a platoon or two of mechanized Marines charging into battle against an entire alien army.
It wasn't until the tanks rumbled past and our squad joined them that their brave charge seemed less like a suicide mission. After all, we were headed there too.
And we were going to live, right?
The tanks seemed to crawl over the plain, engines thrumming with a solid, steady power that grumbled and shook the ground. My squad was either riding on a tank or walking sullenly beside it, eyes glue to the alien camp before us and weapons at the ready, as they had been a thousand times before. This time, though, something seemed different. This war of extermination had brought us many victories- my regiment in particular. We were the best, the elite, the most decorated and hallowed formation on this god-forsaken planet. And everyone knew the same truth- this counterattack wasn't like any other- we could all feel it on our weary, battle-hardened bones. This was to be our Ragnarok, our Goetterdamerrung- the twilight of the Gods. I bet you there were men that day that knew they were going to die, that their luck had run out when they left their trench, and still they marched forward, proud and erect, like a goddamn Marine. Sometimes, when I see the state of our world today, and the direction this war is heading, I wish I had run out of luck on that day too.
We reached the mouth of the valley and the ground became far rougher, strewn with car-sized boulders and littered with the refuse of an army in retreat- wounded and dead soldiers, cast-aside weapons, derelict tanks and other vehicles, and blood. Lots of trails of purple and pink blood. We followed them, knowing that more blood would be spilt today. Suddenly the tanks ground to a halt, their barrels elevated, and they all let loose a thundering volley of fire and steel whose vapor trails streaked towards the enemy camp and exploded with a force that seemed to tear the very fabric of our existence apart like so much paper. We were shaken now, and nervous. Artillery rounds thumped into the camp and we could see clearly the flying bodies and body parts littering the air and coating the ground with blood, three hundred yards in front of us.
The Warthog teams seemed to have done their work, for they were screaming back at full speed, their gunners still tearing loose with machine guns, spraying bullets like water over the alien camp, raking it with yellow tracers. I smiled for a moment as they slowed in front of us and drove slowly through the line, to take up a position at the rear. We all gave them a rousing cheer, and it looked like they deserved it. Tires were melted from plasma, armor had been torn off in some cases by plasma and in others by furious Elites, and on more than one vehicle I saw small trails of blood running down the gun. I grimaced and marched on. Our time for sacrifice was about to some.
We began to charge the camp at about one hundred meters, spreading out to reduce the effectiveness of the alien's energy weapons and approaching the camp from three directions. The aliens' defensive positions had been either savaged by the artillery bombardment or torn to ribbons by the Warthogs, so we had an easy time of it, until we crossed some invisible line and the aliens opened up with every weapon they had. We took cover behind tanks and saw them melt before the barrage- Titanium-A battle plate melting and coming off in gobs! The tanks pressed forward while they still could, firing all the time and disgorging vast amounts of steam as the armor cooling system overloaded. The tank I was following exploded, the turret ripping off and the hole in the top of the tank erupting in flame. The tank ground to a halt and, amazingly, the crew leaped out of the front hatch as fast as humanly possible. The last one to come out was on fire, screaming and beating at himself with gloved hands. Two of my soldiers grabbed his ankles, snatched him off the tank and beat him into the dust. One of them tore off his empty backpack and beat out the flames while the other grabbed a flame extinguishing unit off his hip and sprayed the soldier's legs and chest, dousing the flames nearly instantaneously. That stuff's not meant for human flesh, but it probably saved the soldier's life. He was screaming as the medics dragged him away, writhing and convulsing in pain. I have no idea what happened to him, but we hid out behind his tank before advancing forward under cover of its' smoke. We, along with the rest of the Marines, charged into the melee battle raging in the alien camp. Most of their weapons were out of ammo, their power generator having been knocked offline, and we had the upper hand.
I sprinted at an elite standing over one of my Marines and decked him in the back of the head with the back end of my rifle, sending him reeling over my soldier and onto the ground in front of me. The wounded Marine got up, picked up his pistol, and squeezed off several rounds, most of which caught the alien in the face and dropped him to the ground while he choked on his own blood. I helped the Marine up and saw a pack of Grunts charging us, weapons firing and filling the air with plasma. I crouched and knocked three or four of the Grunts on their ass with a single burst from my rifle. The other Marine reloaded his pistol and got off a few shots before I turned around and saw him lying in a pile of his own blood.
Behind him stood a grinning Elite, sword grasped. He swung the sword and I dodged backward, firing my rifle- but the bullets just bounced off his shield. He stepped forward and plunged the sword forward. Gasping and reeling backward before it's lethal advance, I fell to the ground. He had me now- the sword was poised for downfall and I could hear him cackling madly above the din of battle. As the sword's path traced downwards, life slowed down and I saw distinctly his head blown clean off by a sniper's bullet. The body seemed to remain, to hang there in front of me and sway from side to side, the shield dissipating and the body finally falling backward and settling to the ground with a loud thump. I stood up, brushed myself off, and noticed that the noise of battle had ended suddenly. I could see the alien columns streaming away in disarray down the valley, wounded and dying perched on their plasma tanks and everybody else hauling ass. I let out a deep sigh and gathered my men.
Our ranks were thinned now, we'd lost a quarter of our own number. I know that I was one of the lucky ones- I saw other squad leaders later sobbing their hearts out over losing their entire squad. Some squads, leader and all, had simply ceased to exist. I don't doubt that the aliens knocked two entire companies of Marines off our order of battle, but of course I can never know because the casualty figures will never be released. We retreated to the base and it's spartan comforts that night, gathering with us all of the alien weapons and ammo. The sentries were wide-awake that night, probing the darkness for news of the inevitable alien assault. They never left a human outpost standing wherever they found it- and I wasn't about to fool myself with the belief that they'd leave us alone. I knew it was just a matter of time.
The next day we picked it up- a Covenant force so big it jammed our radar and scared the living shit out of the radar operator that found it. We made the decision- or should I say the brass made the decision- that the base would be defended to the last man. I sat through the squad leader's briefing and was paralyzed by fear the entire time- this was a suicide order, a death sentence. The Earth we were supposed to be defending was pointing her long scepter at us and demanding that we make the ultimate sacrifice for her- and I didn't want to. I gave the ruling to my men in our barracks and watched their hearts sink through the floor. My newest recruit- a guy named Peter, tall and wiry with a Slavic look about him, was visibly shaken when I told everyone the news.
Later that night I walked by his bunk and saw him scrawling out a note- most likely to his mother or his wife. He must not have known that they never send those letters.
End of Part I
By the Skin of our Teeth Part II
Date: 10 October 2004, 4:32 AM
The night was cool and pitch-black- all I could see as I stepped out of the barracks was tracers flying overhead, plasma bolts searing off-course into the mountains, and behind all of them the inky void pockmarked with stars. We had been rudely awakened by an advance guard of the alien force- they came wailing and screeching through our token defenses and nearly took the whole damn base- if it hadn't been for a few alert snipers and a single tank crew, we might have been dead by now. But now the situation was becoming more desperate by the hour, as legions of foes converged on our base, testing our defenses, probing, waiting for the right opportunity to strike, but all the while holding their main force in reserve.
I breathed in one last time and reached up to the top of my helmet- and pulled my night vision goggles down on my face. Instantly the world took on a more sinister and dark aspect- outlined in green were my comrades, kneeling in a semicircle around me, and behind them were platoons of men rushing to the front, weapons at the ready and boots crunching softly on the gravel. I watched them for a second and then motioned quickly for my own men to follow me. I started out at a light jog towards our positions, a hundred yards from the base. It was currently being held by a skeleton crew that was spread out along a line four times to long for its' size. We relieved them, set up our heavy weapons, and waited for the next wave of aliens to come.
We weren't a moment too soon.
Almost directly after we had set a new belt of ammo into our heavy machine gun, what seemed like a horde of aliens charged us, plasma slicing cruelly through the dark night and screeches piercing the eerie calm that had come before. The rat-a-tat-tat of our machine guns and assault rifles drowned out the screams of their wounded, and our fragmentation grenades sent aliens arcing high into the sky and brightened the entire battle scene like the sun had descended suddenly to our position, and just as quickly vanished. Snipers took aim, machine gunners laid on the trigger, and the rest of us laid low in the trenches and took potshots. Once more, we knew when to fire and when to wait up until things were down to the wire.
I could hear, after the alien attack floundered, our comrades on either side coming under heavy attack. I could hear the screams of our fellow soldiers- I was so close I could almost feel their pain. But, for all I knew, we were miles and miles apart. We didn't dare move, we didn't dare show a sign of life, lest the Covenant see it as a sign that we wanted more. Soon after that, we saw the Pelicans lift off from the base, most likely filled with machine guns and bombs. Our ad hoc air force swept swiftly above us, heading for the aliens' staging base. I, via the night vision, could make out their formation- they were in a modified delta- the Pelicans seemed to be protecting a Longsword interceptor with a large payload strapped underneath it- I knew it was a tactical nuclear device.
The radio in the bunker flared to life with confused chatter and shouted commands. I rushed to it, and heard the base communications officer halt the chaos and send out a curt, brief message: "You've seen it. Cover your eyes, Marines. Dawn is about to come." And then the radio fell silent, and I threw myself at the ground to the prone position, screaming at the top of my lungs to my men to crouch down and cover their eyes.
A bright flash appeared in the middle of the night, a rapidly expanding ball of flame that glowed and smothered all in its' path. I waited for the familiar flush of heat and the rush of wind, and it came, blowing past me, seeing to drive me over the very edge of sanity, and then came the rushing back of the heat and the light, carrying me back again. Breathless, I got up and looked around. I was woozy and dazed from knocking my head on the cold concrete floor, but otherwise lucid. I knelt down, picked up my rifle, and slowly moved outside. In front of me was one of my snipers, still prone and very angry.
"Where the hell did we get one of those!?" he inquired violently, springing up to his feet and massaging a bruised neck with his hand. I shrugged, and said:
"You've got me. Maybe they were saving it for a special occasion." The sniper grumbled and returned to his position. I flipped on my night-vision goggles, and saw the Pelicans returning from their bleak mission, minus four of their original number, and one smoking and flaming so badly that I doubted it could ever be reliably flown again without serious and time-consuming repair. I walked among the trenches, knowing that we had got off amazingly easy tonight- that we had played our trump card, and that the remnants of the alien force were rapidly fleeing. I figured that we had four hours until dawn- four hours until the aliens figured out what had happened, diverted forces from other sectors, and attacked us in force. So, I did what anyone else would have done in my position.
I got some goddam sleep.
I was shaken awake by the roar of artillery shells some time later- I sprang to my feet, rifle in hand, and peered over the shoulder of my machine gunner out onto the valley floor, now fully lit by the rising sun. The aliens were charging once more, and among their ranks there burst flowers of destruction, great yellow and brown explosions that shot upward and carried Covenant with them, overturning tanks, spattering purple and red blood across the plains. I ran out of the bunker at a crisp pace and took my place on the firing line. The Elites frantically shouted commands and the Jackals formed a tight phalanx of shields, advancing slowly and methodically. Mines and artillery, nor the frequent, desperate strafing runs of our Pelicans did not deter them- they marched onward and plugged the gaps. I could hear the cavalry, though. Tanks rumbled forth from the base and fired salvo after salvo into the alien's ranks, and the Marine snipers took unfailing aim at the officers- the Elites. The heavy weapons overheated until smoke poured from their barrels and clogged the bunkers with smoke and dust- and then we poured water on the guns, loaded up another ammo belt and let rip once more. I fired clip after clip, firing until my hands went numb from recoil. I stopped and looked up and saw a squad of Banshee fighters streak over the mountaintops and make for the base- firing as fast and as much as they could, taking heavy fire from our heavy weapons, anti-air batteries hastily wheeled into position, and even individual Marines, futilely firing at the ship, hoping to score a lucky hit. Two of the Banshees, listing heavily and shot through like sieves, peeled away, lost control, and spun into the ground in a heap of flaming wreckage. I saw a second fleet of Banshees fly low over the horde of their brethren, guns silent, but engines throttling as fast as they could. Once more, we tried in vain to stop them, and succeeded in bringing down three more. They made it over the base, and we saw them all suddenly dive in unison, letting loose with a single small package that none of us had noticed before.
The entire base glowed green- a single, bright flash consumed everything, leaving charred and melted remnants of buildings, equipment- and people- in it's wake. The aliens had played their trump card- and now it was our turn to run. With the entire command and control staff gone, it was safe to assume that we could to whatever the hell we wanted now. I got on the horn immediately.
"Squad leaders, listen up." I paused for a second and let the rest of the leaders get to the radio, anxious now, as the Covenant drew near and our defense became more strained by the second. "We have an opportunity here- the command staff has just been vaporized. There is no one to stop us from retreating. We can survive to fight another day if we head for the hills- there is a base fifteen miles from here, with a full fleet of escape craft." I crouched by the radio expectantly, sweat clouding my brow and fatigue slowly seizing control of my muscles.
"Are you advocating disobeying orders, soldier?" Came a crackling voice.
"Yes I am. Unless you want to die pointlessly here." I responded icily.
"I'd sooner do that then commit treason!"
"Fine, you can stay here. I'm going to live to fight these Covenant another day! When we have the upper hand, I want to be right there, right in the middle of it with a rifle in one hand and a grenade in the other. I don't want to be another memory, another Marine in a shallow grave millions of miles from home!" I screamed, letting loose with all of my pent-up emotion, screeching and yelling and nearly crying from desperation and fear.
"I'm with him, Malone." Said another squad leader, quietly ignoring my outburst. Malone did not respond. I could hear him sulking.
"Fine. Let's go."
I broke the news to my men, and they were dumbfounded. Was this my idea? Yes, it was. Were we disobeying direct orders? Yes, we were. Was it guaranteed that there would be a way out at this base? No, it wasn't. But it was better than standing and fighting here. I looked up and saw the alien horde break all formation and semblance of discipline and charge us at a dead run- swarming and flowing like a tidal wave.
Time to disappear.
By the Skin of our Teeth part III
Date: 25 November 2004, 6:02 AM
By the Skin of our Teeth, part III
Anabasis
Author's Note: Sorry it took so damn long for me to finish this. It has been an incredible month for games- Half Life 2, World of Warcraft, and of course the further adventures of Master Chief & companions in Halo 2. So, forgive the delay, and I hope you judge this piece worth the wait. I've taken to heart the criticisms of my fellow forum members, and I hope that this is a much-improved piece. Hopefully it won't get lost in the barrage of fan fiction. Bonne chance, dear readers!
We were fading fast, heading up the steep valley east of the base. Our tanks ground slowly on the precarious shelves of loose gravel, our Warthogs sped past them, and the rest of us hoofed it up to the crest of the valley. I don't remember much of this scene- save that it was exhausting. We reached the crest of the valley and quickly moved on- apparently the Covenant had snipers watching all around the base for signs of fleeing humans. Seeing us moving out in such an orderly fashion must have startled them- but not for long. As soon as they saw us, we had to move quickly. Snipers began to pick of straggling marines- the plasma beams cut sharply through the night, blinding those of us that saw them and burning those of us that were hit.
We made it to the top of the valley and saw another valley stretching before us, with mountains in the distance. Even at night it was beautiful- the cold water flowed in a shallow river through the valley, the green grass rose high beside the water, and trees blanketed the far side of the valley- if we could reach those trees before the aliens crested the ridge of the valley, we would be safe. If not, well, we'd just have to pray that we had enough firepower to keep them at bay.
The tanks, of their own accord, turned their turrets around and fired volley after volley into the remnants of our base and covered the valley in machinegun fire. The rest of us stole away down the valley.
"Sir" whispered a marine as we plunged into the waist-deep water of the stream.
"Yes?" I said, pulling my gun up above my waist.
"How far is the base again?"
"Fifteen miles." I said, sucking in my breath as the cold set in.
"In this terrain?" He said, half groaning. I didn't answer.
The valleys were steep, the elevation was taking it's toll, and the landscape, when we reached the crest of a valley, seemed to stretch like a stone accordion into the distance. Banshees whined overhead, and we shot them down. Covenant dropships strafed us, let off cargo, and we blew them out of the sky. Snipers harried us, and we squinted through our scopes and drilled them through the head.
Things were tough, but we were doing well.
We reached one particularly large valley, with a cluster of rocks in the middle, and a river flowing to either side of them. A sniper next to me stopped walking, looked through his scope, and instantly dropped to the ground. He motioned for all of us to do the same, and soon dozens of men, all along the ridgeline, were hiding behind rocks and laying on their stomachs. In the early dawn, the aliens could hardly see us.
But we could see them. And we were scared out of our minds. An entire platoon of hunters sat in the rocks, their huge forms heaving softly and their eyes searching for us. Elite snipers crouched behind rocks, and, according to the sniper watching them next to me, one of them was talking to a small device. Soon, dropships appeared on the horizon, and landed in the valley- disgorging hordes of troops. Soon an entire Covenant regiment sat before us- with a full complement of armor.
I realized later that we should have pushed through the Hunters and Elites before they could call in support- but at the time it seemed best to wait for the Covenant to charge us.
Well, they were about too, from what I could tell.
Elites and grunts led off the assault on our position- they got halfway up the rocky slope, slipping on their own blood and climbing over piles of their dead comrades. We thought it suspiciously easy, until a scream rang out behind us, and we saw that the Covenant had dropped troops into the valley behind us, also. A battle raged hand-to hand, tooth-and nail on the ridgeline, until we finally threw (in some cases, literally) the attacking aliens back down the valley.
So, we now sat in the middle of two Covenant forces, one in front of us in the valley, and one behind us in another. Our men, ever resourceful, piled rocks around the tanks and Warthogs (those that had managed to make it this far), made little foxholes for themselves, and sniped the Covenant.
It got so hot and so calm that we could hear each bead of our sweat smack the granite of the ridgeline. I walked along our improvised defenses, and watched admirably as a Warhog team deftly fended off three Banshees at the same time. The triple-barrels were smoking and pouring out rounds for nearly three minutes- sending two of the Banshees flying into the ground in heaps of flaming, twisted purple wreckage, and sending the third one smoking, losing altitude, into the next valley.
I gave 'em all cigars- and they lit them with the gun barrel.
We were hit next by the Covenant at high noon- it reminded me of an old western. Except the cowboy was facing down two gunslingers at the same time, and was already bloodied and battered. I hoped fervently that our little story would have a happy ending, just like the cowboy's- and for a while it looked like I was right. The Covenant took heavy losses, and couldn't even gain the crest of the ridge without calling in air support to drop Elites on our position- they flew in, and we tore them to pieces.
One of them ran straight at me, raising it's plasma rifle to bash my skull in- I laid on the trigger, then threw myself at the Elite's legs. He tripped, and his body flew into a rock. He quickly recovered, sprang to his feet, and let loose with his rifle. I was already behind a rock, and he missed me. When I heard the telltale 'hiss' that a plasma weapon makes when it's overheated, I stepped out from behind the rock, pulled my pistol from it's holster- and let loose with an entire clip.
At that range I couldn't miss.
The attack failed, and the Covenant withdrew. We now had the initiative- and I quickly called an impromptu conference with the other squad leaders. One of them was not happy.
"God damn you. They'll slaughter us out here!" He screamed, blood on his face.
"You'd be dead already if it weren't for my plan." I said quietly. I hadn't put my rifle down. He glared at me and spit.
"So be it. I'd rather be dead then have to endure ten more miles of this bullshit."
"Fine. Stay here." I said. "The rest of you, listen up." He stalked away, and everyone else seemed visibly shaken. I was too- I think I was trembling.
"We need to move on- I say we attack down the north side of the ridge- and send al the armor out first." I looked around the circle- everyone was too tired and scared to say anything, so the plan passed. I told them to mark my shot, and then charge down the valley.
The tanks and warthogs went first- with sniper and rocket launcher cover. We pelted the alien positions in the middle of the valley- the rocks- with salvo after salvo of high-explosive shells and raked over it with machinegun fire. I dare say that those Covenant had never seen such firepower. Many of them didn't live to see much of it, of course, but there were still some hardy alien souls left among them- which we quickly dispatched in a close-quarters battle that raged afterward, when the troops followed the armor down the mountain. It didn't take long for the Covenant on the other side of the ridge to figure out that their brethren had been stomped into the dirt, but by that time, we had given them the slip.
Our numbers were thinned to the point where we could ride on the vehicles- it was a bit cramped, but as long as no one fired anything at us, we did alright. We fought off Covenant Banshees and individual landing parties, but nothing serious happened until we reached the base at last.
There were enough dropships here to accommodate all of us- apparently the skeleton crew that had abandoned the base before had left all of the machinery intact. It was something that could get them court-martialed and shot under normal circumstances, but we honestly didn't care. In this case, it was more likely to win them a commendation- for saving a few companies' worth of hardass marines.
While we loaded the dropships up and took the time to destroy the rest of the sensitive equipment in the base, the Covenant somehow found us. Ten dropships screamed in and disgorged their occupants right in the middle of the base, and Covenant forces were spotted by snipers on the roof of the hanger approaching from all directions. If we piled into the dropships now, we'd get cut to pieces out on the runway. If we drove the Covenant back for long enough, however-
We just might make it. I ordered all Marines to assume defensive positions, and soon there were guns sticking out from every window, Marines behind every doorway and on every roof. We were ready, and we had tons of ammo scrounged from the base.
The Covenant came in fast from the east through some maintenance buildings, but the never got far. Machine guns, grenades, and massed rifle fire kept their heads down, and they could never get past any of our ad hoc bunkers. The northern side of the base was a slaughter-field- waves of Covenant came at the hangar at a dead run down the runway- and they were slaughtered almost completely. I suppose they were getting desperate- or perhaps they just had an inept fool for a commander.
Either way, it was working for us.
Assaults in the south and west faltered after our Marines put up a stiff defense- and we had a brief respite. I immediately called everyone back to the hangar, loaded all of our gear and men on the ships, and got ready to bust through the hangar door and fly to freedom. The aliens came at our defenses again- this time with armor that crunched and destroyed the base buildings. But there were no Marines inside- and as soon as they realized this, they came surging after us in rage.
The aliens swarmed through the gap like a kaleidoscopic river of reds, blues, and pinks - they toppled over broken barricades made hastily of rocks, gutted tanks, and warped steel. They clumsily made over it all and came for our position. Screaming unholy war cries at the top of their lungs, filling the air with their rage and their fury, every one itching to get at us- every one striving to tear us apart.
They would never get us. We were as good as gone already.
We had made it by the skin of our teeth.
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