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Feet First All The Way, E. Company's Story: Part II
Posted By: Crazy-Ivan
Date: 31 August 2005, 9:42 pm
Read/Post Comments
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Part Two: First Blood
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note: I am aware that Elites were not known to the UNSC until immediately prior to Reach but I have included them in the earlier campaigns to add to the story.
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August 2531, Camp Anderson, Reach, Epsilon Eridani system
"Used to date a beauty queen!"
"Used to date a beauty queen!"
"Now I sleep with an MA3!"
"Now I sleep with an MA3!"
"You maggots will have to do better than that! The nurses from the Medical Corps could run laps around you! Lets take a walk in the quarry." The final comment produced a collective groan from the trainees.
They were part of the biggest military mobilization since the Third World War. These recruits were from across the Orion arm of the galaxy: inner colonies, outer colonies and a few from Earth itself. If they could pass the brutal entry course these men would make it into the top rung of the Marine hierarchy: Helljumpers.
The large Orbital Drop Divisions (ODDs) were deactivated long ago. The UNSC had had little need to land a large force on a hostile world since the 25th century due to its preemptive strike policy created after the quenching of the Eridanus revolt. The only use for a ODD was to land on a hostile world, they were extremely expensive and were replaced by single OD platoons (ODPs) aboard each ship.
First contact had changed all that; the several ODDs were reactivated to deal with the Covenant threat. Thousands of men volunteered, some were currently normal Marines, some simply civilians, and some reservists. The extra pay attracted some, some wanted the thrills, and others simply wanted the best men possible to be at their sides when it hit the fan.
Captain Hitchcock of the 134th Orbital Drop Training Brigade watched from the top of the U shaped gulch, formerly a strip-mine for titanium, as his men navigated through the rocks and stun mines. The quarry was only accessible from one side, the men had to get from one side to the other, navigating lose rocks and mazes of gigantic boulders, touch a pole bearing their regimental colors and return; in under twelve minutes. Failure to do so meant the unlucky recruit would miss dinner and be forced to march all night.
Hitchcock couldn't be happier with the men that would make up Echo Company. They were literally the best in the Regiment, if not the Division, but he wanted them to be better. There were several officers, fresh out of the Prospective Marine Officers Academy, training with the men: Romidovskii, Richards, Morgan, and Appleby. These second lieutenants would be Echo's platoon commanders; the 101st's company commanders and everything higher would be transferred in from the ODPs.
Everyone managed to finish the course in fewer than nine minuets. The prospective ODSTS could certainly be proud of that. Echo managed to complete basic training one week ahead of the rest of the 506th and would participate in drop training with the 505th.
Onboard UNSCS Macarthur
Private First Class Edward Boyle sat in the spacious mission briefing room aboard the UNSCS Macarthur. Macarthur was the first in a line of new assault carriers tasked to land ODSTs and Marines on hostile worlds. They carried enough HEV (Human Entry Vehicle) pods to deploy a Division of Helljumpers four times. They could hold, in addition to one ODST Division, three Marine Infantry Divisions and were filled with Pelicans and Albatross super transports.
A captain, bearing the insignia of the Orbital Drop Training Brigade stepped into the room.
"Officer on deck!" a burly sergeant yelled. The men in the room simultaneously snapped to attention and saluted.
"Be seated. Gentlemen, I am Captain Bernie Fisher of the Orbital Drop Training Brigade. Today you will earn your wings. You've already made dummy jumps from towers this is the real thing. Your first jump will be onto Omri, Reach's largest moon. The gravity well is sufficiently low enough for us to drop you from a low altitude. Your second jump will be into Reach itself. Now, let me tell you what to expect…"
Boyle still wasn't entirely sure what to expect, even after listening to the Captain and drooping onto Omri, as he waited in the Macarthur's Alfa HEV Bay. He had gone through the simulators and the practice jump but this was the real thing. He felt an almost inpreceptible shudder as the first wave of pods was launched from the massive ship.
"Second wave, load up." Said the jumpmaster, a Petty Officer First Class. Boyle stepped into his pod, a technician sealed the door. Boyle felt a lurch as an overhead crane lifted the pod and deposited it in one of the three levels of launch tubes. The atmosphere in the tube was sucked out, the exterior door of the tube opened venting the launch tube to space. He griped the handholds next to his head, suddenly deathly afraid, but it was too late to stop.
The pod shuddered, as it was jettisoned from the launch tube by a series of powerful magnets. The screen in front of Boyle lit up, displaying his planned trajectory and the current location of his pod. Green markers designated the hundreds of other pods flying alongside him. The HEV pod was now soaring through space. The port side warmed up as the rays of Epsilon Eridani shined on it.
Boyle felt the pod shudder as it entered the atmosphere of Reach. The tremendous friction caused by the air quickly heated the Titanium and ceramic pod; Boyle realized where the term Helljumper originated. The shaking increased as the atmosphere thickened.
The pod deployed one of its two chutes, to decrease its airspeed. The HEV slowed but Boyle's inertia demanded he move downward despite the retaining four point harness. He pushed up against the floor with the combined force of his legs and the massive springs supporting his harness what seemed like hours until he was moving the same speed as the pod.
The chute disengaged and the pod accelerated downward. The pod rocked downward for several more minuets until another chute was deployed and the process repeated. The second chute disengaged and the pod slammed into the ground, Boyle braced himself and let his legs absorb the shock. Shaped charges blew of the warped door before him, allowing him to kick it open. The rest of the pods from Echo Company landed and the soon to be Helljumpers let of a victory whop.
The celebration over their "wings," a set of wings with a HEV pod in between, was the rowdiest occasion they had experienced yet in the Military. Following the party was a brief memorial service for the men who had not survived the drop. Some of the troopers were knocked unconscious because of the freak accidents common with HEV deployments. Being unconscious they were unable to brace fro the impact and broke most of their bones, some died others were merely in critical condition.
November 2532, Scorpios IV, system
The Excelsior, a Prowler class ONI stealth ship, slipped into a high orbit around Scorpios IV. Her heavily baffled engines did not emit a noticeable heat signature from a far distance, and her shape and coating with Radiation Absorbing Material reduced if not eliminated her sensor signature. She cut her engines and shut down all non-vital systems, making her even less visible to the Covenant fleet around the planet.
Unlike most of her sister ships, she was not under the command of Section 1, the intelligence gathering branch, but under Section 3, the special warfare branch. Deep within her bowls armored monsters awoke.
Chief Petty Officer Jack Richardson thanked God that these, these things were on his side as he looked into the reflective golden visor of the Mjolnir Mk. II armor.
It spoke. "Is the HEV bay ready for launch?"
"Y-yes sir."
Green-One executed an about face, attaching his customized MA5B to his armor and entering his HEV. For the next few days Green and White teams would observe Covenant forces around a twelve square-kilometer, known as Landing Zone Foxtrot surrounding what was once the village of New Erickson.
Several days later
Aboard USNCS Grafton a Macarthur class assault carrier, part of Admiral Preston Cole's 4th fleet
Ronald Morgan and his friend dived onto the rubber tube and raced down the snow-covered hill. It hadn't snowed for several weeks and the old snow was packed down almost until it became solid ice. The snow tube zipped down the hill quickly with the weight of two people, to quickly. Morgan suddenly realized, with a grin, how stupid he was being. Oh well, what's the worst that could happen?
The over inflated tube rocketed over the long hill designed to keep the tubes from going to far to the left and into the pine forest. Morgan tried to bail out but was hit in the chest by a fallen trunk almost as soon as he touched the ground. He felt a stap of pain shoot through his chest and heard the crack as his ribs broke.
The pain was suddenly replaced by cold. He opened his eyes, blackness, it must have been night. No, there were no stars. Maybe he was under the canopy of the pine forest. No, there wasn't the smell of pine tar. He moved his hands, they stopped. He was in a coffin! No, the sides were metal not wood. He sat up and became aware of a slime clinging to the back of his throat. He coughed up the mucus like substance. His sight slowly returned and First Lieutenant Ronald C. Morgan USNC looked around cryo-bay Beta of the Grafton.
Morgan meet with the troops of 4th Platoon who waited for their comrades to exit cryo-sleep. As the last of the platoon awoke they were led to shower facilities by a technician. After washing the nutrient solution that they had coughed up on themselves, the troops of 4th platoon gathered their shipboard fatigues from a plastic composite rack. The shipboard uniforms were Class-B Uniforms: consisting of a pair of standard issue combat boots, green pants and green button down shirts with the traditional black beret of the ODSTS.
The troopers attached M6Ds, the special operations version of the Colt-Berretta M6 pistol, to their thigh holster. For the most part they were unnecessary onboard, but no Marine really wanted to walk around unarmed, especially Helljumpers.
In the Cryo Bays around them the rest of the 101st along with the regular Marines were exiting suspended animation.
"Exiting slipspace in three hours" sounded the artificial voice of the ship's AI. An ODST Major in Class-A uniform handed papers to each company commander, giving briefing times.
Captain Edmond Lukas stood at ease on the Grafton's port observation deck alone, watching the inky blackness of Shaw-Fujikawa space displayed on an LCD screen and reviewing the mission in his head. Lukas was somewhat annoyed by his transfer from his Platoon, he had an incredible loyalty to his men.
On the other hand being a Captain in the Orbital Drop Platoons usually meant a desk job unless he got extremely lucky and got a job with a Special Opps Group. Being with the 101st meant he could see more action. He also couldn't have asked for a better group of men. Echo was possibly better, though he wouldn't admit it, than his old Platoon.
Lukas reflected on his officers. Morgan and Romidovskii were defiantly his best. Appleby although a great Orbital Drop Shock Trooper he made a poor leader. Richards, despised by superiors and subordinates alike, would probably never get promoted above Captain and was vastly better suited for staff jobs.
The company commander turned as he heard the heels of combat boots on the Titanium-A deck. Romidovskii and several of his men entered from the port hatch. They watched as the Shaw-Fujikawa Faster Than Light Engines tore a hole in the space-time fabric and flooded the darkness of slipspace with photons. The massive ship shuddered as it entered 'normal' space.
Captain Lukas turned to his 1st Platoon commander. "I want my men ready for action immediately. Pass the word on."
"Yes sir"
Ten minuets later the entirety of Echo co. was dressed in their BDUs and waiting in the ODST Ready Room. Each ODST had a Helmet with a Tactical Helmet Mounted Display. The Troopers chose their own weapons. Most carried a M7 Submachine Gun and a M6D. Some carried MA5B assault riffles or Shotguns. Each Platoon received one S2 Sniper Riffle for their sharpshooter and one M247 Machine Gun.
Each ODST carried enough rations for two weeks, a combat knife, a bedroll, an entrenching tool, ammunition for each weapon, a first aid kit, a handheld data pad, and extra power cells for the helmet and data pad. In addition to this they carried any extra ammunition they wanted, and items for personal entertainment, plus any Mk.3 toilet paper they wanted to take (it amused the Helljumpers to no end that the UNSC had an official designation for their toilet paper).
2532, Scorpios IV, Gemini Beta
The Spartans watched into the night as a single Covenant frigate deployed her ground forces Dropships ferried troops down to the outpost. The gravity lift dropped pieces of the large cylinders used by the Grunts for barracks, which were reassembled on the ground. Ten Dropships and a squadron of Banshee fighters stayed behind, stationed on an old field.
Green-One clicked his helmet radio three times and gave a thumbs-up sign to Green-Four. The sniper fired a single round from his S2-AM riffle, followed by the clink as his rifle's autobolt action chambered another round. Another shot cracked in the night and two of the Elites commanding the eight anti-aircraft installations in the LZ. Three more shots and the installations were professionally decapitated. Ten streaks of smoke trailed out of the woods as the SPARTANS launched their Jackhammer missiles.
In order to produce fire there must be three elements present: fuel, oxygen, and an ignition source. The atmosphere proved plenty of oxygen, the rockets produced the ignition, and the massive metal tubes filled with methane provided the fuel source as ten massive plumes of fire light the night sky. The SPARTANS' visors automatically darkened.
Thrown into confusion the Covenant commander ordered the Banshees and launched. The pilots ran straight into a wall of high explosive as the SPARTANS launched more rockets. A flock of Jackals and Grunts swarmed the area. White-One activated the six Lotus anti-tank mines among the dropships the night before. As hoped, at least one mine destroyed something explosive. Plasma vented from charging cracked containment vessels and incinerated the alien troops and permanently grounding the alien vessels.
The SPARTAN team melted back into the woods to await exfiltration.
Aboard UNSCS Grafton
Captain Lukas reviewed his men. Echo was composed of over 175 troops. It contained four platoons and a six-man headquarters section. Each platoon was composed of six squads of twelve men, which could be broken down into fire teams.
"How are we going Helljumpers?"
"Feet first sir!" responded the entire company.
Gunnery Sergeant Adam Heintz was the Platoon sergeant for Lt. Morgan. He had received a rapid promotion from corporal in the rush to get experienced gunnies into the new Divisions. The veteran of many human verses human conflicts fingered his ODST patch; a triangle with two swords crossed under a comet, and replaced his black beret with his helmet.
Four massive HEV bays lined the lower keel of the Grafton. Heintz grabbed a handhold as the massive ship rotated to bring bays C and D into firing position, the 505th was already on their way planet side as the other three regiments waited for launch.
PFC Boyle triple checked his pod's trajectory as the door was attached to his ride to the planet. Heintz knocked twice on the HEV's door. Boyle responded with one knock. The private felt his abdomen constrict as he began to sweat despite the cool interior of the ship. This is it my first combat drop. No more training drops…
Boyle's thought was cut short as the pod dropped into the launch chute and cycled thought the airlock. The four-point harness dug into the tops of his shoulder's as his body's inertia fought to keep him from moving. Boyle felt a slight tremor as the pod exited the launch tube. For several seconds he floated in zero gravity until the pod entered the outer regions of the atmosphere.
Heintz forced himself to relax his white-knuckle grip on his harness. The heating of the floor always made him nervous but he forced himself to review the mission in his head one more time, searching for any possible hindrances nobody had foreseen yet.
He hoped that the anti-air batteries had been neutralized; Echo would land on the North side of New Erickson, a small town inside a clearing in Scorpios IV's jungle. Echo would clear out the town with the help of Delta and Foxtrot Company and Division HQ.
Lukas felt the increasing heat as the atmospheric friction ate away the last layer of ceramic skin. The Capitan's knees and the springs attached to his harness absorbed the shock of the landing. The doorframe warped under the impulse of landing and the heat of entry. Lukas closed his eyes as shaped charges blew away the door.
The ODST swept left and then right with his M7, nothing. Twin streams of plasma cut through the sky as a shade turret melted an HEV pod away. Lukas felt pure rage as he watched the blob of molten titanium and charred carbon impact with the soil twenty meters to the left.
The Shade was obscured from his view by a grove of trees, Lukas raced towards them, moving erratically to make himself a harder target. Three Helljumpers already were at the grove, taking cover behind trees. The CO of Echo Company saw the evidence of a firefight: trees charred from plasma fire and eight dead ODSTS.
Lukas dived behind a tree in time to avoid a green blob form an overcharged plasma pistol. The Captain got his first good look at his opponents. Beyond the trees was what apparently passed for a Covenant bunker; it was a dome of purple metal with firing slits. Connecting it with other bunkers was a network of low trenches. Behind the ring of fortifications were two Shades, one apparently offline.
The Shade, now finished slaughtering Helljumpers was free to focus its attention on the four humans annoying the defenses. One way to do this.
"Covering fire!" yelled Lukas as he opened up on the aliens with his M7. The stream of bullets merely bounced off the unknown alloy but made the aliens keep their heads down. Lukas raced about ten meters forward, diving down just in time as a stream of purple overshot and flew over his head. He felt the searing pain as shrapnel flew into his leg after seven needles embedded in the tree behind him exploded.
The veteran officer loaded another clip into his M7 and drew his M6D. He ignored his legs and peered through the scope of his "Jackal Blaster" as the special operations weapon is known to the UNSC. A Grunt with an overcharging pistol stuck his head out of a trench. Lukas pooped it off.
Another Grunt, this one carrying the large spike toped gun that ONI had given the name "needler." The diminutive alien fired several random bursts before his head exploded.
A Jackal inside the bunker spotted the muzzle flashes of the M6D and focused his plasma canon at the lone human. Lukas ducked behind his tree and sat up, priming a smoke grenade. One of the ODSTS behind him stood to get a shoot at the firing slit and received a chest of purple needles for his pains.
The Captain heaved the smoke grenade over the side of his head, exploding a meter in front of the purple dome. Lukas easily crawled under the random plasma fire. Out of the haze materialized the pitted metal dome. He rolled over on his back and removed a M9 HE grenade from his belt, priming it and lobbing it through the open slit. Lukas closed his eyes and covered his ears feeling the ground shake as the grenade silenced the bunker.
The two remaining Helljumpers materialized behind him, spraying the trenches with fire from their SMGs. The wind began to blow away the artificial haze allowing Lukas to see the Shade turret and heard screams, as his two companions were crispy fried by a stream of plasma. He raised his M6D, feeling the adrenalin leaving his bloodstream. The pistol felt unusually heavy, his hand looked white and pale. Blood loss he thought immediately before the blackness came.
Boyle sighted in another of the Jackals in his M6D. They were advancing on a group of ODSTS in an irrigation ditch. Boyle and what was left of his squad had the good fortune to accidentally outflank them. Many of his squad mates had been melted by the Shades; others had been blown off course by winds that the Meteorological Corps failed to predict in their crystal balls.
The remaining Jackals tried to determine where the new threat was coming from, giving the pinned down troops an opportunity to rip into the unprotected parts of the formation. Corporal Bob Chan exterminated the last of the confused aliens. The corporal used his the radio to communicate with the ODSTS now coming out of the stinking water and approached the newcomers.
The troops came from First Platoon.
"Who's your Sergeant?" One of the First Platoon men pointed to a man clutching a seared arm stump.
"Our Squad's Corporal got it on the way in. Sarge is drifting in and out of consciousness. Guess you're in charge till we find someone from First."
Morgan crouched over a map of the area trying to figure out where Lukas was, as well as where the rest of the company landed. The officer's radio crackled.
"Echo1-3 to Ech1-0: the Captain is with us. We are situated in a tree grove about one klick south of your position. The CO is wounded and unconscious. Over"
"Roger that, try to move him to my position if possible. Over."
"Wilco, over and out."
Morgan nervously glanced around the farmhouse kitchen he used as a temporary headquarters. The Captain's incapacitation made him the CO of Echo, not a prospect he particularly relished. Around the farmhouse he had managed to compile as much of the Company as possible. Morgan turned to the only other officer he could get to the rally point.
"Demitri, we can't sit here. The Covies are going to get plasma artillery on us real quick. I want more men, but we have no choice. Lets go."
Romidovskii nodded and left, he would command what was left of 3rd Platoon reinforced by the few troops from 4th. Morgan would command the remnants of 1st and 2nd.
PFC Bill Gehris sprinted forward and dove into a dry drainage ditch running parallel to the road. The Helljumper scanned the buildings again with his M6D's scope. If anything was hiding in those buildings it was keeping its ugly head down.
The Jackal watched the approaching humans. None of the creatures that had run up saw him; he was stationed well within the village. Now the second group of the abominations rushed up. The bird-like alien placed his monocular on the ground and raised his particle beam rifle.
A purple streak flew over Gehris's head, drilling a neat hole in the head of one of the troopers with an MA5B. The advancing troops threw themselves to the ground. Corporal Bernshaw fired at something in the town with his M6D. Another beam drilled him but allowed Gehris to pinpoint the Jackal sniper in his M6D's scope and squeezed off a shot at extreme range. It missed. He fired another round as the alien sniped another ODST. The unshielded alien dropped with a mass of lead lodged in the center of its small brain.
The entire company froze and dove for cover as the screech of Banshees ripped through the air. Two Banshees either called in from another Covenant base or left undestroyed by the advance team flew in low over the fields. An Ardent IV shoulder launched Surface to Air Missile turned one into airborne dust. Its twin launched a single green orb. The blast from the Fuel Rod cannon lifted Gehris's prone body into the air and slammed it into the ground where it lay like a rag doll.
The entire ground shook and the air filled with a thunderous roar. PFC Gehris sat up suddenly. Gasping with pain he clutched his chest and lay down quickly, his head impacting not earth but what the UNSC tried to pass off as a pillow.
The D75-TC Albatross jerked to a halt on the arresting cables and spooled down its pulse-detonation engines. Inside were three Scorpion Main Battle Tanks, the first elements of the 1st Cavalry Division to land on Scorpios IV. As the last of the massive tanks rolled off the loading ramp the massive transport spooled up its power plants and made a laborious accent into the atmosphere.
First Lieutenant Morgan read over the casually list for his company compiled by Regimental Headquarters. Out of 175 men, fifty-two were Killed In Action and twenty were wounded. Captain Lukas's incapacitation made Morgan the leader of the remainder of Echo. Since yesterday Pelicans and Albatrosses had delivered four regular Marine Divisions and were beginning to deliver an Armored Division.
PFC Boyle threw his pack onto the ground in front of the blackened circle of soil that served as a Pelican landing zone and sat down on top of it. Like the rest of the men in Echo he had a few hours of sleep since the battle but was still slightly tired. He was trained for this though, during Basic Shock Trooper training.
Warrant Officer Natalie Thomas flared her D77-TC and landed in the charred circle. She checked the Automated Cartography System readout. Her destination was a small clearing two miles from Hill 306, the highest geographic feature in 300 klicks.
Lt. Morgan watched the ground shrink away as Thomas's Pelican accelerated upward. The jungle was one of the few places where humanity had an advantage over the Covenant. The aliens just weren't used to jungle warfare. They refused to use guerilla tactics and generally made themselves good targets. General Wilson, the commander of ground forces in the Scorpios Theater, and his staff considered the airhead relatively safe from air assault since the Marines' C601 Skyhawk atmospheric fighters with their missiles were able to destroy any Banshees or Dropships that came near LZ Foxtrot.
From Hill 306 the men of 4th Platoon could use infrared optics to penetrate the dense jungle canopy and observe Covenant troop movements.
The Pelicans touched down just long enough for their passengers to disembark. Warrant Officer Thomas rotated her Pelican's engines to flight position and entered a course in the autopilot system for the [I]Grafton[/I].
Sergeant Heintz knelt in the tall grass and waited for his ears to adjust to the relative silence of the jungle. Richard Morgan double-checked the aerial real-time feed from a Clarion drone in low orbit, dedicated to his platoon for this mission. The thermal sensors detected what must be a Covenant force assembling about 200 klicks from Hill 306, some sort of advance unit was trying to burn a trail through the jungle. 4th platoon would set up camp and watch their progress for a few days before ambushing them.
Several days later
Force Master Waki'Udama stood hunched over the holo-pedestal inside his personal command shelter. The positions of the enemy were marked with red triangles. The Forces of Glorious Victory Legion following him were marked in purple hexagons. The strain was taking its toll on him. The Legion Master of Glorious Victory had been demanding that Glory Force move faster. Glory Force was tasked with burning a road through the jungle for the rest of the attack force.
Glorious Victory's primary weapon was the mighty Wraith "tanks" supplemented by infantry in Shadow troop transports and recon elements composed of Ghosts.
The Force Master pushed his worries away; he would still have the honor of being the first to engage the enemy. His aids had been warning him about the possibility of ambush; the most likely spot was a 290-unit hill, the tallest object in the area. His Banshee pilots had assured him there was no visible enemy force, and only their 'heavy fighting vehicles', which would be obvious from the air, could hope to do any harm to his mighty Wraiths. Nevertheless, his Wraiths were beyond the hill, only supply laden Shadows and a few Specters were near the hill. There was no honor in attacking them.
The white-armored alien tried to stand strait up but only succeeded in bashing his unprotected head into a communications console. He rubbed the top of his skull; the fatigue was making him careless. 'Udama gingerly replaced his helmet.
The Squadron Master maneuvered his way between equipment and staff to the rear hatch. Upon setting foot on the plasma scorched earth he stretched out his leg and arm muscles. A passing Kig-Yar beat his right fist into the left side of his chest, the Covenant equivalent of the human salute.
"There! Kathy Gearhart's spotter indicated the white clad alien step out of the rear of a shadow.
"Odd," neither marine had seen an Elite before. Both saw the Jackal show respect to the new species.
"Tango-1 to Alfa-1, leader-type covie in sights, new species. Request immediate authorization to engage."
Morgan taped the sound activated microphone mounted in front of his lips to turn it on. "Roger, execute at will."
The Force Master reached down to his belt to activate his personal shield, but stopped short as sodium tipped Armor Piercing Fin Stabilized round pierced his thick skin and skull, entering into a breathing passage then compromised the part of his brain that controlled vision, and then into the center of his brain, the portion controlling sleep and basic life functions like controlling which heart was used when and breathing, finally the round exited in reverse order of its entry path and lodged a full two meters into the plasma seared soil.
PFC Thomas Caranteno sighted a Shadow in the sights of his M19 Rocket Launcher; he moved his sights to the front of the vehicle, exhaled, held his breath and squeezed the trigger. The rocket hit the hovering supply carrier in the mid section igniting a fuel rod container for re-supplying Banshees. The resulting fireball engulfed two other Shadows and a Specter.
Another Specter raced to the charred hulks of the Shadows. A secondary explosion from the breached fuel tank of a fourth Shadow enveloped the Covenant equivalent of a Warthog resulting in the uncontrolled venting of hot plasma, roasting a band of Grunts who ran to the site.
Another shot, another Shadow destroyed, this one carrying something less volatile than the last. Caranteno set down his empty launcher and inserted two more rockets from the pile of four, which another ODST had deposited next to him an hour ago.
Wayne Harrison dropped another Jackal, 4th Platoon's Sharpshooter resented the addition of two Sniper/Spotter teams from the 223rd Scout/Sniper Regiment to augment himself but tried to keep his mind focused on the mission. Another Jackal dropped as an Armour Piercing Fin-Stabilizing Discarding Sabot round from his S2.
Caranteno sent another rocket into a cluster of Grunts and Jackals. A two-man team of ODSTS opened fire on a group of Shadows with a Man-Portable version of the M68 Gauss Cannon. A pair of Banshees screeched overhead, strafing the trees with plasma and fuel rod rounds as Wraiths began plastering the hillside with plasma.
The Covenant aircraft gained altitude for a turn and erupted into fireballs as two missiles guided by a D75 AWACS aircraft impacted them. A quartet of C601 Skyhawk Atmospheric Fighter-Bombers broke through the early morning haze and smoke deploying Cluster Munitions. The bomblets literally tore holes in the Covenant formation, immediately neutralizing any dismounted infantry and many of the vehicles.
The C601s banked and turned to finish off individual targets with their Scorpion missiles and Autocannons. The Skyhawks banked and flew over the concealed ODSTS, wobbled their wings and returned to New Erickson Field. What was left of the Grunts and Jackals ran back down the trail as fast as their legs would carry them, the diminutive Grunts squealing in terror.
Ed Boyle stood up from his prone position. A slight rain had started, almost as if to wash away the Covenant filth. Lance Corporal Andrew Yorker, his squad leader since his Sergeant was killed scanned the fresh graveyard with his binoculars, no movement.
"Move out Helljumpers."
Like all the other squads, Yorker's, call sign: Fire Team Alpha, moved cautiously onto the patch of blackened earth to gather whatever intelligence wasn't incinerated.
Most of the Shadows and Wraiths to badly damaged to gather any technical data from and most of the corpses were to charred to gather what ONI liked to call "Biological Intelligence." The roar of an inbound Pelicans broke the eerie silence of the new bone yard. The lead D77 flared circled and landed, inside were four men in black uniforms.
The ODSTS immediately recognized the ONI men; one from Section 1, intelligence; one from Section 6, Research and Development; and two from Section 4, Public Information (Propaganda).
The Section 4 men began filming the ambush site, making sure they recorded plenty of dead aliens but none of the injured or dead Marines being evacuated with burns covering their bodies. The other ONI men took their own pictures.
The Section 1 man appeared to be a Bio Intel specialist and had Yorker's men carry several dead alien bodies to his Pelican, resulting in some vomiting and later dry heaves due to the smell of the seared flesh. The Section 4 men interviewed Boyle, who had an iron stomach and looked better than the rest of the squad until the Section 6 man ordered the squad to assist in opening up Covenant vehicles.
The Section 6 spook was most interested in the Wraiths. The Helljumpers opened up several of the destroyed armored fighting vehicles under the supervision of the ONI man. Inside each was a body of one of the tall aliens, which the Section 1 man referred to as Elites before having more ODSTS haul them off as the Section 6 man took photographs of the insides of the vehicles. A voice came over the radio receivers mounted in
"Echo-four Alpha, Echo-four Alpha; this is Echo-zero Actual" Romidovskii.
"Echo-zero this is Echo-Four Alpha Actual, go ahead" Yorker replied.
"Overheads indicate Covenant forces inbound on your position. Recommend immediate evacuation."
"Wilco, Echo-four Alpha out."
The ONI man said "One more." The tone did not indicate an order, but coming from an ONI operative it was as good as a direct command.
The next Wraith had a dented hatch, sealing it shut. 'Section 6,' as the Helljumpers began calling him behind his back, utilized a cutting torch to remove the hatch.
Team Master Nato'Necusee was knocked unconscious by the detonations of the cluster bombs. He awoke to the sensation of red-hot liquid globules of metal searing his skin and a splitting headache; his skull was almost certainly fractured. He looked for the source of the hot metal, some of which had found its way in-between his armor and skin. He attempted to let off a howl of rage, but only could manage a high-pitched cough, windpipe damage. Very embarrassing, but it would heal rapidly. After shifting his position in the seat so that the sparks fell on his helmet he checked his tactical display to see the disposition of his team. All eliminated. His Force, the same.
The Team Master snapped his mandibles rapidly in shame, it was very dishonorable to be the only member of your team left alive, especially as a Team Master, worse to be the only one left in the Force. Now a group of Unngoys would 'rescue' him from what should be his coffin.
One option, the Crimson armored Sangheili drew his deactivated energy sword hilt and the ceremonial Death Blade that had been passed down the family line from pre-historic times. The self-doomed Sangheli read the inscription on the handle to himself: Better to die with honor than to live with none.
Team Master Nato'Necusee, son of Councilor Taranc'Necusee the son of Honor Guard Yark'Necusee, placed the Death Blade between his mandibles and prepared to thrust into the roof of his mouth. The Unngoy would find an honorably dead Sangheli.
"Lift the hatch."
Forerunners be praised thought the Team Master, these were no Unggoy, there would be a more honorable solution. He sheathed his Death Blade and lifted the plasma sword hilt on his lap.
Yorker grunted as he and two others lifted the heavy hatch. The ONI man steeped forward to get a good look at the interior, and fell backwards. At least the top half did. From the waist down he stood for a moment before rejoining his torso on the charred ground. A Crimson armored Elite leaped from the Wraith and threw a plasma grenade. The blue sphere stuck to the chest of PFC Caranteno. The plasma blade began an elaborate dance around the battlefield at the hands of the experienced Sangheli.
Boyle opened up on the alien with an MA5B he got from a Marine in exchange for his M7, a great deal as far as the ODST was concerned.
"Get it off! Get it off me!" screamed Caranteno, he had managed to pull the grenade off his chest, but was unable to remove his hands from the glowing orb of death.
Yorker drew his M6D and began losing rounds into the aliens flickering shield. Third degree burns now covered Caranteno's hands and chest. The 'Rocket Jockey' now saw a glimmer of hope: the searing hot plasma would burn off his hands; he would drop the grenade and jump back. He would survive! He would survive!
Boom
Caranteno died with a smile on his lips. The Elite primed another plasma grenade; he raised his arm for a throw. The swarm of lead finally degraded and destroyed his shields. A stray round hit the plasma grenade, causing an uncontrolled degradation in the magnetic plasma containment field. Nato'Necusee died from his own grenade. He died with a horse, high pitched howl of rage, and of victory, and of honor. His ancestors would have been pleased.
"Echo-four Alpha, Echo four Alpha; this is Eagle-Eyes, do you copy? Over." The radio chatter split the morbid silence. "Echo-four Alpha, do you…"
"Rodger Eagle-Eyes, this is Echo-four Alpha Actual, go ahead."
"Echo-four Alpha there are Covenant Banshees inbound on your position ETA three minutes. Recommend immediate exfiltration. Over."
The Pelican pilots heard the conversation. They marginally increased the power on their engines. Boyle could tell they were becoming nervous.
"You heard the lady," said Yorker, referring to the radio operator on the AWACS Albatross "lets get out of hear. I heard they'll have some hot steaks back at the LZ for us." The men needed no extra urging. Yorker didn't bother looking for permission from the ONI men; enough of his troops had died today (if that Section 6 man weren't in two peaces he probably would have shoot him himself) besides the remaining Officers had left in the first Pelican with the dead aliens.
The ODSTS were forced to leave their dead behind so the rest of them could get out in time. Even the alien corpses got better treatment than his comrades. They were all kids; none of the dead were over 21. Boyle stared blankly out the open door of the fleeing D77, all so young, all so young. Full of promise, promise and hope and youth. Dead. It was, however better to go down fighting than die cowering in a hole while your planet was glassed. The thought didn't provide much consolation. He needed a drink.
The lone Pelican touched down near an aide station. The sight sickened the Helljumpers to the core. Scores, no, hundreds of bodies lay in heaps. Those that the medics and surgeons couldn't help, got to late, or had to pass up in triage: the task of determining which patients they could help, which ones were to far gone, and which ones would take to much time to put back together. Edward Boyle buried his head in his hands and buckled at the knees, vomiting on the red stained grass and soil. He couldn't stand the thought of consuming food or beverage right now, especially not liquor.
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