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Holt Forest
Date: 18 November 2005, 3:28 am
0743 hours, September 24, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, Holt Forest, planet Knossos
He could see them, taking cover behind some trees only a dozen meters away, their bodies partially obscured by the low fog. There looked to be at least three patrols, maybe more. The Grunts were up front, the thin vulture-like outlines of Jackals behind them, and at least two Elites shouting orders in the distance. The Covenant stood motionless, staring fiercely at their enemy. Across from them stood a platoon of soldiers staring back with just as much intensity. The quiet was almost enough drive a man mad, and the tension equally unsettling. It was a standoff of the worst sort.
What were they waiting for?
"Bayonets!" the strong voice of Lieutenant Anthony called out. Behind him came the clatter of 40 knives being attached to firearms. He wiped the sweat and grime from his brow and pressed his body against the makeshift shield in front of him. Across the platoon's line there was a broken barrier of wooden bunkers, hastily assembled from branches and doused in flame retardant. The Lieutenant hoped it would be enough.
Across no man's land the Covenant seemed to finally be ready as well. They chattered anxiously, feet stomping on the ground. Further into the fog, pinpoints of green began to illuminate- the charging plasma pistols of the Jackals. Anthony held his hand high in the air. "Hold steady!" He shouted back to the soldiers. Order would win the situation and minimize casualties; that is what he had been taught, and that was his own experience- but seeing the enemy in plain view like this made it very hard to not run over and stab the poor sobs. Luckily he didn't have to hold back the troops much longer. Suddenly the Covenant line began advancing. Slowly at first, and then the aliens broke into a full sprint.
"Grenades!"
There was a flurry of explosions, and several of the Covenant were killed in a plume of dirt and shrapnel. Not enough, though- the plasma weapons discharged, a dozen green fireballs melting harmlessly into the black coating of the barriers.
"Open fire!"
The firefight had begun. Plasma and lead crossed paths as both sides fired their weapons, the covenant still advancing despite a lack of cover, and being slaughtered as a result. The humans on the other hand were well protected, familiar with their environment. Something was odd about the whole thing, though- why were the Covenant being so careless?
The Jackals formed a wall with their energy shields, and the Grunts quickly fell into position behind them. Safe from the bullets, they pressed forward rapidly. The distance between the groups had been short, and it didn't take long at all for them to press in too close to the barriers for grenades. The Soldiers continued firing rapidly, and when the Covenant line finally reached them they sprung up strong and fast with their bayonets, stabbing at the enemy and taking shots where they could. The small armies were now locked in hand to hand combat, and the lines began breaking up into chaos very quickly.
"Hold file!" Anthony shouted loudly, trying to maintain order. A Jackal came at him rapidly, swinging its shield, and the Lieutenant quickly slashed him across the throat. The alien collapsed immediately, hissing. Anthony quickly took aim and shot another two Grunts. "Hold file!" he shouted again. He looked across the line- a lone soldier had run out and was now recklessly fighting hand to hand and pressing into the Covenant forces. The Lieutenant cursed- that fool was going to get himself killed.
"Guard, on me!" He shouted loudly, and two soldiers came to his sides. Together they pushed forward towards the soldier. Anthony could see his face now- a Corporal Heller.
"Heller, get back in the line!" The man showed no signs of acknowledgement. A Jackal swiped him across the head with a plasma pistol, knocking the man down, and lifted it's weapon to shoot the downed opponent. Anthony raised his rifle and riddled the monster with bullets. He pulled Heller off the ground by the back of his collar. "I said get back to the line!" the Corporal looked at him distantly, eyes glazed over. He was drunk. Anger shot through Anthony.
"You damn idiot! You're going to get yourself killed! I told you to-" Heller swung and hit the Lieutenant across the jaw. Immediately the two other soldiers grabbed his arms and began dragging him off.
Anthony wiped his mouth, and looked around. The last of the Covenant were being killed off, and the battle was clearly won. It had been easy of a fight. He didn't bother asking why, though- he was simply grateful for it.
The Corporal would be dealt with at camp.
Knossos: The Increasing Threat
Date: 19 November 2005, 1:05 am
(A side note, this is the second segment of the Knossos series which began with Holt Forest. I forgot to add the "Knossos:" label to that piece.)
As the Covenant sweep through the Outer Colonies on their steady path towards earth they leave little but destruction in their wake. Only a handful of planets hold out from total destruction, and what little resistance the Humans can muster is fierce. They fight to protect their lives, their homes, and their species. Many of these worlds are doomed, their annihilation at the hands of the Covenant inevitable. Some, where the Covenant have underestimated resistance, continue to fight back the invaders. One of these planets is Knossos, a backwater planet in the Sigma Draconis system with little but plains, seas, and deserts. The militaristic republic of Knossos was on the brink of civil war before the covenant invaded, united uneasily to combat the alien threat. The soldiers trapped on its surface have waged a bloody war for the last four years to free themselves of the Covenant aggressors. Now, with victory over the enemy in sight, old political tensions again run high in the republic. The fate of Knossos lies in the hands of the few.
1707 hours, September 24, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, UNSC camp at the Red Plains, planet Knossos
"Presenting an Elite of Gold rank, second in command of the Knossos invading forces, assistant to the Prophet of Omen."
Lieutenant Colonel Julian Amari sat calmly in his plush chair, hands clasped on his desk. They were in a large tent, filled with ornate and colorful decorations- this was the office of Amari during military campaigns. On the inside it looked almost like a proper house. Sitting there comfortably, Amari looked like a king. Before him stood two soldiers, carrying the exhausted body of an Elite; the alien had been stripped of its armor and clearly showed signs of having been beaten. Its head sagged in shamed defeat. Amari raised his right hand slightly, a gesture to turn on the speech translators. He waited a long moment, considering the beast, before finally speaking.
"What is your name, Warrior?" he asked quietly.
The Elite lifted his head and stared fiercely, the last flames of defiance smoldering in his eyes. "Your devil tongue could not speak it if I told you."
"Very well," Amari said, leaning back in his chair. "I will skip the pleasantries. How many covenant remain on Knossos?"
"Kill me, heathen. You will not have me betray my cause."
"Death will come to you in time, I assure you. How many covenant?"
"Enough to cleanse this planet of your stench."
"That I doubt," Amari said shortly. "It's no accident that your attacks get weaker and weaker, and it is not by luck that we still live. You were under supplied from the start."
"My brothers come for us. Soon you will be purged from this world, and the Light will be freed."
Amari paused, considering. It was not the Covenant's babble that worried him- many before him had spoken of some "Light". He considered it religious nonsense. But the information that reinforcements were coming to the enemy was unsettling. He looked over at the two soldiers. "Torture him. See what other information you can gather, but keep him alive. He may still be of use to us." The men nodded, and dragged the elite off. Another man in fatigues entered just as they were leaving. He scowled at the elite, and then broke into a large grin when he saw Amari.
"Ugly beast," the man said, shaking hands with the Lieutenant Colonel. "I hope you don't intend on keeping it as a pet."
"I thought it wiser to keep him a bit longer; you never know when such things will be useful. What's that in your hand, Madison?"
The man held out a piece of paper. Julian took it, looking it over with interest. Madison grinned again. "News from Alsafi. A new Covenant ship has just entered the system. It's a small one, naturally; you know, I think the poor bastards still think we're easily beaten."
Amari frowned, setting it down on his desk. "I expect they'll land near by, sometime within the week. Set up a watch group, will you?"
"Easily done."
The Lieutenant Colonel tapped his chin in thought. "What ever happened to that Corporal… What was his name… The drunkard who hit Marcus Anthony. Heller."
Madison scratched his head. "I had Lieutenant Anthony beat him publicly, and then he was imprisoned. Certainly made an example of him."
"Heller was popular with the men. Hopefully this won't damage moral."
"How could it, after the series of battles we've been winning? The men love you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go see to that watch."
Amari nodded, and watched as Madison turned and walked away.
-------------------
James Heller pounded against the side of the holding cell. He stood on his toes, trying to peer through a crack to the outside- there was a lot of rushing around, and anxious voices.
"Hey!" he shouted loudly. "Hey, in here! What's happening!" He pounded again on the brick siding of the cell. "In here, you godless bastards!"
"Covenant ship just entered system," A voice said quietly. "They're preparing the defenses."
Heller turned to look at the man in the next cell, who was also peering through a crack. "No, don't say that," he said quietly.
"There's going to be another battle soon."
"And me in here?" Heller yelled angrily. Frustrated, he started pounding again on the walls. "Hey!"
-------------------
0230 hours, September 25, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, watch group at the Red Plains, planet Knossos
The soldier peered through binoculars at the sky, searching for the telltale signs of a Covenant ship entering the atmosphere. He'd been watching in shifts all night now. It was cold; he was hungry and tired, and wanted very much to just return to camp.
Something caught his eye. It looked vaguely like a shooting star, but was moving slower. Soon he could see it was much larger- the hulking shape of a Covenant ship tearing through the atmosphere, its underbelly glowing red hot. As he watched, it seemed to be getting closer. Its belly started to cool, fading to a black outline against the stars.
Bang, Bang…
The soldier jumped nervously. Sonic booms. The Covenant ship passed fluidly through the air, and almost seemed to groan as it passed overhead, racing towards the west- towards the mountains. Soon it was gone.
The man looked towards his buddy, who was staring towards the mountains with a dropped jaw. The soldier shook the man's arm, bringing him back to reality.
"Send a message back to camp."
Knossos: Fetters of War
Date: 27 November 2005, 11:41 pm
0901 hours, September 25, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, UNSC camp at the Red Plains, planet Knossos
"And so the Symps just ran right to the alien camp?"
"Yes, the fools! I suppose they thought the Covenant would help them. What's best is how the aliens disposed of them. You see, they didn't just shoot them; they took them right up to a thousand feet and dropped them!"
"Brilliant! Maybe now they'll see logic and stop fighting us."
Lieutenant Colonel Amari laughed heartily as he took another bite of his omelet. He and his friend William Dean were eating breakfast in his house-sized tent, catching up on months of being apart. The man had come unannounced earlier in the morning to celebrate with Amari victory over the Sympathizers in the northern regions of Knossos. The Sympathizers, Humans who were tragically misled and believed the Covenant were gods, had tried for months to upset warfare wherever possible. In a last desperate attempt to win victory for their cause they had tried to seek help from their revered Covenant. The aliens had not reacted favorably.
"I see things are going well for you here," William said happily, stabbing a bit of egg onto his fork.
"Mmm. Yes," Amari replied, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Very well. I'm surprised the Covenant just don't give up, or at least glass us and be done with it."
Sunlight poured into the tent as Madison lifted the flap and entered hurriedly. "Dean, my old friend!" He slapped William on the back, making the man choke slightly on his food, and reached to grab a pad of paper off a back shelf. He came back to stand beside the table. "How goes the war up North?"
"Well, actually, it's going-"
"Listen, not now, I'm in a rush. Lieutenant Colonel, about the Covenant reinforcements?"
"Ah, yes," Amari said, turning in his seat. "I was just going to send for that report."
"The Watchmen saw the ship come in last night, it landed past the Hearth Mountains. I suppose you want me to take care of it?"
"Yes, please. I'd like to have the continent secured by mid October, this nuisance doesn't help."
"I'll get on it, then," Madison said, turning again to walk out. "Enjoy your stay, Will."
Dean waited for the man to leave before he spoke again.
"I don't see how you can stand that man."
"He loves to fight, and he's efficient."
"You don't seem to be worried about this new threat," William noted.
"It's nothing, really, just a delay. The Covenant aren't a match for me."
1027 hours, September 25, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, UNSC camp at the Red Plains, planet Knossos
Captain Madison sat listlessly at his desk, twirling a pen between his fingers. He had been trying to come up with an attack plan for an hour now and had only succeeded in drawing a few scribbles and a depiction of a marine shooting a grunt. The trouble with it all was he didn't know precisely where the Covenant were. They had flown past the mountains, and sense told him they would be there, but they could have gone for hundreds of miles beyond that. He couldn't very well march on a position and have the enemy not be there. And sending scouts would be suicide for whoever went. He'd have to pick someone he didn't care for.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Madison called, setting his pencil down and moving important looking papers to cover his scribbles. A soldier opened the door and moved quickly to stand at rigid attention in front of the Captain's desk. Madison held back a grin, letting the soldier salute for a moment, before returning the gesture.
"Lieutenant Anthony," he said coyly, leaning back in his chair. "Just the man I was hoping to see."
"I was told you sent for me, Sir," Anthony said quietly.
"So I did. I'd like your advice on a delicate matter."
"Sir?"
"As you've no doubt heard, the Covenant sent reinforcements in last night. I think they landed just over the mountains- through the River Valley. Trouble is, we can't be sure, since we have no working satellite equipment and can't risk another pelican for scouting. We also need to know what sort of artillery they brought with them. How would you proceed?"
Anthony hesitated for a moment, thinking, before speaking. "Well, Sir… I'd do it manually, since that's our only option, starting with the mountains. I'd go quietly, take one or two men through River Valley and get a report."
"A great idea. Do it."
"Do it, Sir?"
"There should be an extra warthog in the motor pool, take it if you want. The Valley isn't scorching this time of day so you should leave immediately. I'll even let you choose your own men, if you'd like."
Anthony nodded, looking a bit unsure of the idea. "Understood, Sir."
1104 hours, September 25, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, holding cell at the Red Plains, planet Knossos
James Heller knelt in the dirt, hands clasped in prayer, his gaze towards the dirty ceiling.
"Dear Lord, I know I haven't always been the most faithful servant, or even that decent of a man, but if you would open this door for me I'll attend chapel every weekend; or, if for some reason I can't, I'll at least read a few bible passages. This, Lord, I promise to you."
There was a loud creaking behind him; James turned his head quickly to see the cell door was being opened.
"Corporal Heller, come forward."
Heller quickly stood up and moved towards the door. A guard held it open, an impatient look on his face. Just behind him stood Lieutenant Anthony— the man who had beaten him for insubordination. Heller turned to the guard in annoyance. "What's he doing here?"
"You are to be released from captivity into supervision of Lieutenant Anthony, and your past infractions will be wiped from the record," The guard said, a bit of a smirk on his face.
"Forget it," Heller said, sitting down on the floor. "I'd rather be court-martialed than serve under this chickenshit."
"These orders come straight from Lieutenant Colonel Amari."
"Amari?" Heller asked, a look of surprise on his face.
"You are to locate the Covenant base camp."
Heller looked stunned. "Me locate…" He looked from the guard to Anthony and back again. This was unthinkable.
Heller burst into laughter.
1631 hours, September 25, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, somewhere in the River Valley, planet Knossos
In the hundred years Knossos had been a colony nobody had quite figured out why River Valley was named so. More of a canyon than anything, any water that had once been there was long gone. It was now similar to a desert, the yellow and brown sand scorching in the afternoon heat. Heat waves rippled in the bright light of the orange sun, casting strange shadows against sparsely scattered rocks and vegetation— and speeding through it all was a small green Warthog, tires kicking up a trail of dust as it drove along.
"I suppose you'll want me to forgive you with all this," Heller said, smiling as he looked out at the valley, wind blowing through his short-cropped hair.
"What's that?" Lieutenant Anthony asked, voice raised to be heard over the car engine.
"I said," Heller repeated, "That I bet this is all to have me forgive you for your nasty comments."
"You will address me properly, Heller."
"Yes, Sir."
Anthony shook his head. "This is far from a reward. HQ sent us on a task to find the Covenant base camp, which is nearly impossible since the enemy no doubt has guards and snipers set up along the valley. Even if we did find them we would most likely be killed, it's a suicide mission. I chose you because you're condemned anyway. The loss of one ill-behaved soldier won't matter much to the war effort."
"I would've felt better if you had just lied, Sir."
There was an awkward silence for a few minutes. Anthony drove in wordless annoyance, while Heller stared continuously out the window.
"Sir, how much farther is it?" Heller asked at last.
"Any distance with you is-"
His words were cut off by an explosion of noise and dirt on the road ahead. Anthony swerved the warthog and threw on the brakes, a rain of sand and dust pouring down and making it impossible to see. The warthog had little traction in the sand. It span in circles, still rushing forward and keeping the two soldiers from any sort of rational thought. The force was unbearable, and the world was a fast moving blur. There was another explosion to the left, and another behind them. Several more seemed to shatter the world. Anthony strained to get back to his senses. He pulled the steering wheel hard to try and even out the spin, gritting his teeth and squinting to keep the sand from his eyes. It took only a moment to even out, and soon after the dust cloud passed to show the trail ahead.
There was a very large rock in the way.
Almost immediately the warthog slammed into the face of it, coming to a violent stop and destroying the front of the vehicle completely. The last thing Anthony remembered seeing was the steering wheel rushing toward his head.
-----------------
"Madison."
The Captain stopped walking, and leaned back to peer through the door he had just passed. Amari sat behind his desk, twirling a pen. Madison took a few steps backward and stared at his superior.
"Yes, Sir?"
"What news of the Covenant ship?"
"I wouldn't know. I sent scouts a few hours ago."
"Through river valley?"
"If they know how to read a map."
"I see. I just remembered that we had set up a few mines through there."
"Pity."
"Get me some bourbon, will you? I'm parched."
"Of course."
-----------------
Anthony was woken by a hard slap to the face.
"Get up!"
He opened his eyes, blinking repeatedly to get the sand out of them. Heller was kneeling over him.
"What happened?" The lieutenant mumbled.
"I think we were attacked."
Anthony sat up hurriedly, and winced from unexpected pain. It felt like a few of his ribs were broken. He was lying in the sand a few feet behind the destroyed warthog, which was letting off a heavy amount of smoke and was clearly inoperable. He twisted to look behind him- holes and blast marks littered the ground.
"Mines," he said after a moment, climbing to his feet.
Heller also stood. "Mines?"
"Yes, mines, you know what mines are don't you?"
"Well, yes, but-"
"They must've been here to halt any covenant forces."
"Friendly fire," Heller grumbled. He put his hands on his hips, and glanced around the small canyon. "I suppose we had better turn back?"
"No point."
"It'll be dark soon, no worries about the heat."
"No, you fool, look at that!" Anthony gestured towards the wrecked and smoking warthog.
"I see it. We can walk."
"There's no use walking, that smoke will attract attention from-" his speech halted suddenly. He stared off down the valley. "Damn."
"What?" Heller turned to face whatever it was Anthony was staring at. His posture stiffened immediately. "Oh. Damn."
Two puffs of sand in the distance were coming towards them rapidly, their shapes blurred by the waves of heat.
"Ghosts," Heller noted, a grin creeping across his face.
Anthony glanced at him. "What?"
"Elites don't scout. Grunts do."
A slow grin spread across the lieutenant's face as well. Their rides had come.
1916 hours, September 25, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, Covenant camp at the Hearth Mountains, planet Knossos
"Look at them all," Heller whispered. "There must be thousands!"
The two men lay prone on a cliff overlooking the Covenant base. It appeared to be a staging point for their new forces on Knossos. The cruiser had long since gone, probably to another part of the planet, but it had left in its wake thousands of covenant troops. Their ranks seem to spread for a mile. Mixed in with the lot were scores of ghosts, dropships, wraiths, specres, and banshees.
There was more than enough firepower here to decimate Amari's forces.
"I think," Anthony whispered, "That they're moving out from here. Look- some of the vehicles are going south, some are going north, and others east."
"That's still a sizable potion for us," Heller grumbled. The man snapped a few pictures with his camera.
"A sizable portion? If they leave a quarter of that, it'll be enough to wipe us out. And who knows if there are more back on their ship."
"And they said it was a small cruiser. Lazy pricks."
"The sun starting to go down," Anthony said quietly. "We need to report back. Amari will need as much time as possible to plan."
"He better think of something good."
Knossos: The Sigma Draconis Star
Date: 13 December 2005, 3:52 am
From: Blake.Encrypted@centralhall.gov
To: Amari@UNSCknossos.mil
Subject: Re: Change of Plans
My friend,
Your efforts in preserving this planet have been exemplary and I have no doubt that we all have you to thank for our lives. Countless times you have proven yourself as a commander, and the people look upon you as a hero. But as an ally, I must tell you that we have reservations concerning your new strategy.
Your new position has placed the 203rd very close to Carthage, and while I understand your reasoning for the decision I do not see why such a risky gambit is in order. Should you fail in the valley, Carthage will almost certainly be sacked. We cannot afford to lose the capital.
Captains William Dean and Richard Gideon are tied up in their regions so you will have no reinforcements. I sincerely hope you will reconsider this maneuver.
Respectfully,
Robert C. Blake
Acting Governor of Knossos
1006 hours, September 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, UNSC Camp on Carthage outskirts, planet Knossos
"I think the man doubts my ability," Amari mused, leaning back in his chair. "Wouldn't you say so?"
Madison grunted from the filing cabinet he was sitting on. "As I've said, politicians have no mind for warfare. They squabble for votes and support and let our type protect their facade of order." He rapped his knuckles on the cabinet. "No offense, Dean."
The young Captain glanced up from where he was standing, as if he had just been pulled back into reality. "What? Oh. I'm no politician really, it's boring stuff. Of course, family tradition has it that I join in. I suppose the upside of this war is it's saved me from wasting away in a cold senate chair, eh?"
"Heritage is an unsightly thing," Amari said, rising from his seat. "I'm sorry to see you leave so soon, my friend."
"I as well. Unusual circumstances in my neck of the woods, though—I wish I could stay and help."
"Victory is assured, don't you worry about that."
"Are you really so certain?"
"I'm an old man, true, but a tricky one. Have a safe journey home."
Dean nodded. The two men clapped each other on the back, and after a moment of gathering his will, Dean walked briskly from the tent.
"Touching," Madison commented. "Would you like to kiss him on the cheek, as well?"
"Taking his armies outright wouldn't look proper, this is the cleanest way to do it."
"Treachery is a fine game to play, but I prefer open combat."
"Dean and Gideon are both loyal to the Governor and what remains of the Knossos Republic and I cannot defeat them outright."
"So you plan to have the Governor move first? Have him do something outrageous, and declare martial law?"
"You speak as though I haven't had this planned for ages."
Madison shrugged in apathy, and slid off the cabinet. He stood staring at Amari, evaluating him coolly as if to search his mind.
"I've one worry," He said with a solemn expression.
"What's that?"
"Suppose we lose the Valley."
1024 hours, September 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, River Valley, planet Knossos
The Valley was blisteringly hot. It was the kind of miserable heat that seemed to absorb all moisture and left your moth feeling like it was full of cotton. The canyon-esque walls of the valley and it's dry riverbed floor offered little in the way of shade. Everything seemed to be drenched in the yellow-orange light of Sigma Draconis' star. Through these conditions hundreds of men raced against time, setting up pre-fabricated bunkers, laying mines and digging trenches into the walls for rocket attacks and snipers. Understandably, nobody was in the best of spirits.
"Faster!" Lieutenant Anthony yelled from his perch on top of a warthog. "You'll need to work faster if you want to be ready before the heat!"
The valley, hot as it was, got hotter throughout the day, reaching upwards of 120f regularly by mid afternoon. Miserable conditions for any soldier, and dangerous to fight in.
"Sweet Lord, Alsafi burns bright today," Heller complained as he leaned against the warthog, referring to the Sigma Draconis star. Anthony turned to look down at him, and then returned to shouting orders.
"You know what Alsafi means, Anthony? Do you?"
"No, Heller, I do not."
"It's Arabic, taken from something or other, for those damned cooking tripods. Ironic, actually."
"Can't you go make yourself useful?"
Heller shrugged, and slid to a crouch, trying to hide in the warthog's small shadow.
"Suicide, this is," Heller noted loudly after a moment.
Anthony turned again, and looked down at the man.
"What is? This?"
"Well, this whole thing is suicide. The valley is too narrow, its walls too steep and if anyone is caught in those trenches they'll be sitting ducks. Easily. Unless the surprise is pulled off as planned, we're all lost."
Anthony couldn't argue. For once, Heller had a point. Amari had taken risks before but this was asking for disaster. To make matters worse, neither Amari or Captain Madison were present. To say moral was grim wouldn't be untrue.
"It is a lovely day though, isn't it?" Heller began again. "Not a damn cloud in the sky. Not a one."
"The heat is bad enough, don't remind me."
"The only explanation, of course, is that God hates us."
"God does not hate us, Corporal, "Anthony said with a bit of a smile. "He just hates you."
"Thank you, Sir."
Anthony broke out into a grin, and stared off down the valley. A speck in the distance caught his eye, something in the air. Even before the speck started to take shape, his stomach sank with dread.
Banshee.
A few moments later the howl of its engines echoed through the valley and alerted the other soldiers to it's presence. Three hundred heads stopped and stared uncertainly. So much for the ambush.
Anthony began yelling again, trying to usher the soldiers into movement, and it didn't take much. Soon everyone was rushing around madly, trying to make last minute preparations and find some cover. Heller scrambled to his feet, and shouldered the rocket launcher he had put against the warthog. He leaned on the vehicle, and took careful aim.
The Banshee came closer and closer at high speeds, and appeared to be dropping in altitude. It wasn't firing, but it was clear it intended to do a flyby. Heller waited patiently as it dropped from the sky, engines screaming. He ignored the shouts from the other soldiers.
Just a bit closer. Just a little bit closer and it would be scrap.
Heller moved his finger to the trigger, and pulled.
"Heller, don't!" Anthony yelled.
The man jerked the launcher upward in surprise and the rocket fired, passing cleanly over the path of the Banshee. The Covenant ship raced overhead, pulling a gust of wind with it, and pulled up out of the valley, circling wide and flying back to wherever it had come from.
Heller stood in shock.
"Give me that," Anthony said in annoyance, grabbing the launcher from him.
"What the hell did you do that for!" Heller yelled angrily. "I had him, I had a perfect shot! He'll go back and tell everyone now!"
"And what if you had succeeded? What then? The damn thing would have crashed into our soldiers and our defenses!"
Heller clenched his teeth angrily, and leaned in close to Anthony. He looked for a moment as if he would say something, or even hit the Lieutenant, but he never did—he stomped off instead. Anthony sighed, and leaned the launcher against the warthog.
"Lieutenant!"
Anthony turned to look for whoever had called. A man was running toward him.
"Lieutenant!"
"Yes? What is it?"
"Look, sir!" The man pointed frantically down the valley. Anthony climbed back on top of the warthog to get another look. There was a large cloud of dirt and sand in the distance. Snapping his fingers at the other man, he took his binoculars and searched the distance.
He lowered them again slowly after a moment, and looked back down. "Get everyone ready."
1045 hours, September 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Channel 49 News Cast, "Defending Humanity", Knossos
For those of you just joining us, analysts are discussing the repositioning of the 203rd Marine battalion to a location just a few miles outside of our planet's capital, Carthage. Lieutenant Colonel Amari ordered this movement late last night on unknown grounds, and the troops are still getting resettled. This new position has many officials concerned, not to mention the citizens of the city who are absolutely abject to having the fight for Knossos right on their doorstep. This new position for the famed 203rd is, experts are saying, a risky effort to in fact protect Carthage and discourage any direct attack against it, but the exact reasoning behind the movement is still unconfirmed. At this time neither Lieutenant Colonel Amari or Acting Governor Blake are available for comment, we will continue giving you updates as the situation develops. We go now to our senior war correspondent—
Governor Robert Blake turned off the news feed in annoyance. He sat in a plush leather chair in his office-- his for the last few years, ever since his predecessor had been killed. Elections had been postponed due to the Covenant threat, and nobody seemed to be in a hurry to restart them. War was much more interesting. He sipped his class of whiskey, swirled it around a bit in his hand as he thought. The situation was becoming less stable every day. The only person who seemed assured of victory was Amari himself, the crazy old fool.
There was a light knock on the door. "Come in," Blake called.
The door cracked open slightly, and a young man poked his head in. Blake didn't recognize him- it must've been one of the different aides. "Mr. Governor, Sir? There's a large collection of the press outside, they would like an official comment."
"Tell them to go away."
"I tried, sir, but-"
"Tell them to go away again nicely, and if they refuse, tell them to procreate with themselves."
The man snickered a little. "Yes, Sir."
Bloody press, Blake thought.
There was a loud bang, it sounded like an explosion—the entire room rattled and shook with it. Blake sat up in his chair. Boom, again. Boom. The Governor stood and hurried to the window, pulling back the blinds in a rush. He peered out, past the city walls and into the distant UNSC base. Flashes of light came intermittently, shooting up from the ground.
The door burst open. Another nameless aide. "Sir, they're firing artillery into the valley!"
1051 hours, September 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, River Valley, planet Knossos
"INCOMING!"
Explosions rocked the earth and sent plumes of dirt and smoke high into the air. Anthony dove for cover behind a concrete bunker as a hail of debris and plasma rained down from the exploding Wraith tank.
"What the hell!" Heller yelled, looking at his partner. "What the hell is going on!"
"Artillary!" Anthony yelled back over the deafening roar of combat. "They're shelling us!"
"Who is? The Covenant?"
"No! Command!"
Anthony looked to his right and shrunk into the bunker as he saw two more Wraith tanks float over the carnage of destroyed vehicles and bodies. Rockets flew down from trenches in the valley walls, destroying one and passing harmlessly by the other. The Wraith launched a mortar of plasma and plowed on its way, Ghosts and Covenant infantry following in it's wake. Heller popped up long enough to quickly shoot a pair of jackals in the head. He came back down to see Anthony shooting in the direction of the troops. Before he could ask what he was doing, he saw-- they were now behind the line of fire.
"Shit," Heller said, reloading his rifle. "Shit."
A Grunt poked it's head over the top of the bunker and yelled out a screech, waving it's plasma pistol at Anthony. The Lieutenant didn't waste time in pulling a knife and stabbing the creature in the throat. The Grunt slumped back over the slab of concrete.
"You have a plan?" Heller asked, shooting at Covenant as they pushed pass them further into the UNSC ranks.
"Me? I was hoping you would have one."
"Okay," Heller said, fumbling around for his own combat knife, "Okay, I'm out of ideas."
"It won't take them long to notice we're back here- Cover!!" A plasma mortar slammed into the rock wall a few feet down the line, throwing bits of debris everywhere. Anthony thought he saw a few bodies fall with the rock as well. This was followed up with another earth shattering barrage of artillery fire. The large shells landed everywhere, decimating Covenant and Human alike and blotting out the sky with thick black smoke. Soon all light was engulfed in that dark mix, and nothing but the screams and explosions of war were discernable.
For a few blissful moments, Anthony thought he was in Hell.
1123 hours, September 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, UNSC Camp on Carthage outskirts, planet Knossos
"Beautiful," Amari said happily, peering with binoculars as thick clouds of smoke started pouring from the distant mountains. "We have victory."
"I'm not positive," Madison said, also searching the horizon. "It doesn't sit right with me. I think we could have done this without the loss of life."
"Nonsense. The Covenant wouldn't expect that we would shell our own defenses, and this gave us the advantage. Furthermore, the troops there held them in one place as we destroyed them. Three hundred soldiers is an acceptable price for this victory."
"I suppose. If anything other than a Human leaves that Valley, we'll send the reserves in."
"Tell them they can stop the shelling now. Time to assess the damage."
"Yes, Sir. I do have a terrible hunger for lunch, would you like something from the kitchen?"
"I think I'll accompany you."
1132 hours, September 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, Northern Trail through the Holt Forest, planet Knossos
"The thing is, with those Covenant brutes, I have the suspicion that they're not all as barbaric as they seem, you understand? Through personal observation, and what we've gathered from torture and the limited UNSC files we downloaded before, you know, we were cut off—there's evidence that their culture may be much richer than we thought. I think, then, if someone could find a way to reason with them, maybe we would be better off than duking it out."
Dean chuckled, and looked over at the soldier driving the warthog. The man had been miserably silent the entire trip, only entering the conversation to add bits like, "You don't say?" or "Interesting, really." He did claim, once, to know how Dean felt, but the Captain doubted it. The soldier didn't seem the sharpest knife in the drawer.
Dean sighed, and settled into his seat. Doing so, he noticed someone up ahead, someone in military uniform waving his arms for them to stop. It looked like a checkpoint.
"Odd, one out here," he muttered.
The warthog slowed to a stop, and the soldier walked around to the drivers door. "Where are you off too?" He said, leaning against the door.
"We're driving up to the northern front. This here is Captain Dean, I've been told to escort him through to his base—"
Dean ignored the conversation as they talked on, pulling out different identification. The entire thing didn't seem right. They were in the middle of the forest, without a base for miles. A movement caught his eye in the bushes; he tilted his head to peer out the window. Another rustling. At first, it looked like just a bush. Then he saw the pair of eyes behind the camouflage.
"Oh my God-" Dean started to mutter, but he was cut off suddenly by a loud gunshot. The drivers head exploded, sending bits of bone and gore splattering across Dean's face. The soldier who had stopped them was holding a smoking pistol. Before the soldier could aim again, dean pulled out his own gun and shot the man twice in the throat.
Whoever was camouflaged in the bushes leaped out, firing his rifle at the warthog. Dean moved his foot quickly over the dead driver's and pushed down on the gas, sending the car shooting forward. He grabbed the wheel and tried to steer, mind racing. What was going on?
Bullets pinged off the warthog, one lucky enough to puncture the tire. The Warthog swerved, and crashed into the woods.
1200 hours, September 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sigma Draconis system, River Valley, planet Knossos
Lieutenant Anthony and Corporal Heller stood emotionlessly in a field of dead covenant and human soldiers. Wreckage still smoldered around them, and every once in a while a vehicle or pack of ammunition would explode. The sky had cleared up enough to see, but the smoke and smell of charred flesh still hung in the air.
They walked around soundlessly, nudging corpses as they passed to check for any survivors. About twenty other soldiers did the same.
None of them said anything. There was nothing to say, they all understood their situation, what had happened to them. They all knew against hope that the artillery strikes had been on purpose, but they didn't want to think of the implications. For now they were just grateful to be alive.
Once they had made their rounds, and made sure there were no wounded who couldn't move, they began a long march back across the plains towards the camp. It was noon; the sun was just starting to reach its peak.
"Alsafi burns bright today," Heller noted quietly, carefully stepping over bodies and spent bullet casings.
"A cooking tripod, you said," Anthony remembered.
"That's right."
They trudged along in silence for a few more minutes. Anthony pulled off his helmet, and let it fall to the ground; it was hot.
"Ironic."
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