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Posted By: A Halo Fan...natic<mikeandrewp@gmail.com>
Date: 18 June 2007, 8:49 pm
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We had no warning.
The first we heard of the invasion was when our holovisions turned themselves on and screamed at us to take shelter. There was panic. We did not know if we were being invaded or bombed. We did not know how many ships were threatening us. We did not even know if they had landed or not. All we were told was that we were to take shelter.
Most people headed for the public shelters. We were more fortunate, and more foresighted. I had prepared a shelter for my family, an extension of the ancient fallout shelter beneath the house. It was one of the selling points when we bought it - a piece of history, not disturbed since the bomb scare of 2342. I renovated it, using my inheritance. My friends thought me daft - but I knew. The aliens were bound to come sometime, and when they did, it was best to be well prepared.
Now who is the one still breathing?
When the war started, we did not know it. No one was told. The troubles of the galaxy could not effect Earth. Who noticed when a few far-flung colonies ceased transmission? Who cared if more tax money was spent on building up the fleet? The citizens of Earth could not be bothered to take heed of the warning signs. But we are all citizens of the galaxy, and some people thought something amiss. Rumors started to spread.
So it was no surprise when the draft was reinstated. Nor when car factories were shut down and converted to manufacturing fighters.
And when the first footage appeared, no one was overly shocked. We expected something horrible - and what we saw was horrible. What we were unprepared for was the scale.
That first video, shot by a marine in battle, showed the slaughter of dozens of soldiers, mowed down by bolts of light. Strange creatures swarmed across the terrain, taking dozens of bullets before falling. The marine with the camera took a hit, and fell. His camera recorded his last moments as the plasma burned into his belly, boiling and hissing in evil counterpoint to his screams. The camera was picked up later by a salvage party. The bodies were left to rot.
The UCA immediately squashed all transmission of the video, but it was passed hand to hand across the world. Within a month, everyone on Earth had seen the film, and the UN could no longer suppress the knowledge of the war.
The propaganda started not long afterwards. Shots of victorious marines, interviews with popular generals, video of the construction of the defense grid. One time they released a movie of a space battle. They thought it might boost morale to show that we could kick alien butt in space. But the video showed a battle of two cruisers and four destroyers against one small enemy ship, and we still lost three of the destroyers. The movie was aired only for one week.
Posters appeared on street corners. Ancient slogans, not used in decades, were revived and used to stir up pride and courage. The newspapers were not short on insults for the aliens. "Squid-head" was particularly popular. There was little criticism of the UN during this time. I do not know if this was because of increased patriotism or increased censorship. It almost doesn't matter.
Then another film leaked. It was of a planet being glassed. It shocked everyone. Hundreds of ships took orbit around Tau Ceti II and let loose a barrage of laser light. The crust of the planet boiled and melted under the heat. The oceans evaporated. Landmasses caught fire. Raw magma erupted to the surface in glowing masses.
Seeing a planet's skin boil away into space like dry ice under a blowtorch - no one was prepared for a sight like that. We expected invasions, yes, we expected orbital bombardments and nukes, but to see a planet killed so casually, so matter of factly, was something that struck us to the very core of our being. Everyone on the planet, for the first time in human history, felt the same emotion at the same time.
Terror.
In the weeks following the leak, there was a sort of aimlessness to the people in the street. They seemed unaware of their surroundings, staring straight ahead, oblivious to people and obstacles. Earth's teaming masses wandered aimlessly, knowing that if the aliens broke through, we'd all be dead. The suicide rate tripled.
It was 2535.
I had already finished the modifications to the bomb shelter when I saw the film. I knew then that all my efforts had been in vain. Nothing could survive that. That video was the record of the death of a planet.
However, I still kept some hope. The aliens might decide not to glass Earth. The shelter could survive an indirect hit from a kinetic energy weapon or low yield nuke, and it would protect us from the aftermath and hide us from an invasion. It might save our lives.
It was a small hope, but it was all I had.
The news grew direr. More colonies fell. The UN's propaganda became more and more enthusiastic and cheerful, until even the most diehard believer suspected something. Then all news stopped.
We no longer heard of Covenant victories, or even of our own victories. No one seemed to be sure exactly why the flow of information stopped, but some people whispered of disaster. They said that Reach had fallen. Reach, the last military stronghold of humanity. Reach, the staging point of all our attacks. Reach, our last hope. Reach.
I didn't believe them.
Things began to break down. There were riots in the streets. An arsonist set fire to the City TV building in Toronto, almost setting the whole city ablaze. Someone planted a bomb in the Vatican City, killing a Cardinal and wounding the Pope. A man threw burning gasoline over people in the Capitol Mall, then shot himself in the head. Some said it was the end of the world. I disagreed. It was just the end of civilization.
I had stocked the shelter thoroughly. Food, water, and air enough to keep six people alive for a month. Medical supplies. Firearms. Books. Everything I could think of. If I were lucky I wouldn't have to use it.
I wouldn't have to use it if I were unlucky, either.
This time fate threw a wild card. I am typing this on the shelter's terminal. We've been down here for twenty days, and nerves are starting to get frayed. The radio says Dallas was hit with a rock traveling at cometary speeds. Luckily we are far removed from the center of town. Unfortunately, there is crater glass over the exit.
I am down here with my family - my wife, Anne, my sons, Jacob and Dave, and my daughter, Sue. Also with us is Jacob's fiancé.
We are all going to die soon.
Whether by suffocation or starvation or dehydration, we don't have long. I'd say we could live another twenty, maybe thirty days if we had to, although I doubt it'd be much to live for unless they get a rescue team down here. I don't plan on letting us suffer, though. I stocked enough sleeping pills and liquor to let a dozen men die painlessly.
I am leaving this message in case we are dug up after we die. For the record, this is George Walsh, 52, of Dallas, Texas, USA.
9/24/2552
I would like to announce the marriage of Jacob Walsh and Eileen Kerry. May all their days be blessed.
9/26/2552
The air recycler's just quit. I haven't told anyone yet, but we only have eighteen hours to live on the air we have. I'll bring it up next mealtime. Then I'll pass out the pills.
10/8/2552
Everyone else has taken their pills. I skipped mine. I'm normally not the type to play iron man, but these aren't normal circumstances.
No one else is moving. I'm alone. The air is thick. It's getting hard to breathe. The air meter is riding the red line. I love my Anne.
I wish I could have lived to have grandchildren.
I'm rambling. I am signing off now. I pray to God this will be found. I suppose it is in His hands now.
- George Walsh.
10/9/2552
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