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The Chronicles of Corporal Wilkens: Parts 6 and 7: Seperation, Devastation, and Rescue
Posted By: Major Silva<majorsilva@aol.com>
Date: 21 November 2005, 1:52 am
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PT 6
Deployment +07 hours: 13 minutes: 22 seconds ( Corporal Wilkens Mission Clock )/
City Block Designation **N/A**, New Mombasa, Earth
The Master Chief was leading. He put a burst into the Grunt manning the plasma turret, and then charged ahead to tackle the infuriated Elite.
Wilkens held back, as ordered, and unslung the Battle Rifle, steadying it on a nearby house railing. He looked through the small scope attached to his BR-55. He hit the small tab on the scope, and the Elite's head filled the scope. He put two bursts into the alien's head, just in time. The Master Chief finished him off with a kick to the chest, followed by sustained bursts from his own BR-55.
Content with an assist, Wilkens was just about to go ahead to the awaiting group when he was grabbed from behind. The Elite covered his mouth, and ordered his squad of eight Jackal's forward. The Marines were unsuspecting. Two of the Jackals also had Beam Rifles - an ugly Covenant copy of the human sniper rifle.
Wilkens kicked and kicked, to no avail. The Elite only held him more firmly. After the Jackals were in position, he dragged the madened Corporal Wilkens forward, toward the concealed Jackals. The Elite produced a short howl, and the Jackals all stepped out from cover, and the humans turned and looked around.
They found Wilkens being held hostage, and some not-too-friendly-looking Jackals.
Richard Wilkens kicked at the Elite's shin, but knew it was in vain. In fact, it angered the Elite. He unsheathed his holstered plasma pistol, and burrowed it into Wilken's skull, growling close to Wilken's ear, The Corporal obliged, and stopped struggling.
The Master Chief, the Lieutenent's Marines, and the Marines from the hotel all leveled their rifles and submachine guns at various aliens arrayed in front of them, waiting for some reason, or order to fire.
Unexpectedly, the Elite stepped forward, past the Jackal lines, dragging Wilkens. It surprisingly uttered passable English, though obviously did not enjoy it.
"Put your weapons down, or I will kill him", it said, and shoved the plasma pistol's barrel deeper into Wilkens' skull.
"Sir?" Private Trocardo asked, frightened.
"Don't listen to him", the Lieutenent whispered back, "We're not budging. I sure as hell am getting tired of these hostage -"
The sound of a low drone filled the air around the group, cutting the el Tee off. A Phantom appeared, gracefully gliding through the buildings behind the Covenant squad. It's three attached plasma cannons locked onto their targets, and large, bulbous, globs of scarlet - white energy filled the air, speeding toward the Marine position.
"Fall back!" Lieutenent Roeder screamed, as one of the Marines from the hotel was blasted in half, and the ground around them was being melted by the hundreds of streaming plasma. The Master Chief, the Marines, everyone dashed into the building for cover, leaving Wilkens alone.
The Elite let go of Wilkens, and tossed him to the ground, giving a good kick as a token of his appreciation. The Phantom lowered to the ground, and the Jackals quickly started riding up the small grav lift at the ships port side. The Elite turned, and was about to walk away when he glanced back, just in time to receive a ferocious blow from a fallen two by four which Wilkens had picked up when the Elite had let him go.
The skirmish lasted mere seconds. The Elite was just too strong. He punched Wilkens in the chest, and clubbed him with the plasma pistol. Wilkens was no match. He got up again, attempting to run again, when the Elite decided he wasn't in for a chase, and fired a shot at Wilkens back, hitting him square between the sholder blades.
Wilkens thought the Elite had come up and punched him - atleast that was what it had felt like. He did not realize that he was bleeding immensly from the back, and that he had a gaping hole by his left shoulder. That is why, when he received no further attack, and continued to run, Corporal Richard Wilkens was astonished when he felt as if all the energy left him as if it were blown away by the wind, and he suddenly felt exhausted.
Corporal Wilkens crashed to the ground, meters away from the Hotel Zanzibar. He couldn't move, couldn't call for help. He just lay there, helpless, as the Marines were gone - into the depths of the building, and was left there alone.
Luck, it seemed, was not on Wilkens' side. He passed out.
PT 7
Deployment +08 hours: 46 minutes: 03 seconds ( Corporal Wilkens Mission Clock )/
City Block Designation **N/A**, Hotel Zanzibar, New Mombasa, Earth
When Corporal Richard Wilkens finally came to, he awoke to intense pain in his back, almost a gnawing pain. He groaned aloud.
That's when the stray Jackal gave a chicken-like screech of surprise, and jumped back, waiting for attack. The damned thing had been eating Wilkens alive, from the plasma hole in the Corporal's back.
Wilkens started to rise, but shrunk down in the pain. He quickly unholstered his SMG, and with one hand, put 23 rounds into the lone Jackal.
Richard crawled to the hotel wall, and leaned against it, barely being able to breathe, feeling so tired. He wiped his face with his sleeve, and took a glance at the Jackal. It had no weapon, no shield device. Wilkens found it strange that this lone Jackal had found him, and not notified any Covenant forces.
'Screw it', he thought. Pondering about the conceptions and reasons of a stray Covenant asshole wasn't going to get him any help, or fix the hole in his back.
He reached back, slowly, to his left shoulder with his right hand, and came back with a hand full of blood. He screamed aloud painfully. Wilkens had a huge sense of helplessness, of crying out, of dying in front of a god damned hotel, not being able to move, in the middle of a disastrous invasion.
Wilkens passed out again.
When he awoke, he found just what he had wanted to find right before he had his little tumble and broken his arm, at the begininng of his deployment. He was in a hospital bed, and around him were four Navy nurses, completing an assortment of different tasks.
He tried to talk, but nothing came out. Wilkens was in a small, brightly lit room, with no windows. There were other beds around them, each with other wounded soldiers in them. One was missing a limb, another had his eye out, and a few others were suffering from plasma and needler impacts. One of the nurses saw that he was awake, and came to him.
"Everything's going to be alright", she said, "You're on the UNSC frigate In Amber Clad , you're in no danger, soldier".
Wilkens was struck with a strange sense of his voice coming back to him. He tried to say, 'what happened', but all that came out was "...happened?"
The nurse looked at him, obviously not having a clue as to what had happened to him. "I do not know how or when you were evacuated, but you were. That is all I know."
"..ank..you", Wilkens managed to say, as the nurse turned to tend to a screaming patient.
So, all he knew was where he was. He didn't know how he was found, if the Covenant were repelled -
Just then, the ship rumbled, and the lights flickered. He felt a slight acceleration, they were moving. "What's happening?", he said, getting the full ability to talk back.
One of the nurses turned, and addressed Wilkens, "I don't know", then, turning to another nurse, "Get on the line with the Bridge, find out what's happening."
Corporal Wilkens tried to sit up, and found it surprisingly easy to move. He reached back to the plasma hole. It was filled, and a bio-layer was over it, with a skin graph from him over that, then bandages. It didn't hurt. He checked his arm - there was no pain in it, either.
He attributed this to the advances in medicine and surgery in the military. They could now go in, and mend a bone, and leave but a whole the size of a hair with robotic surgery. The bone was then "melted" back together, in a way, leaving no pain afterwards. Wilkens was grateful for this. If they were being pursued, or were pursing, he predicted this ship would need all the soldiers it could get.
Wilkens rose, and retrieved his fatigues from the nightstand next to his bed. A nurse turned to stop him, but looking at his chart, found that he had been checked out as O.K. by the doctor onboard. She opened the door for him, and he quickly walked out, going to the restrooms. Once there, he ditched his hospital clothes, and donned his old, burned, battle worn army fatigues.
"Will a Corporal Richard L. Wilkens please report to the Bridge, immediatley", a male voice from a nearby speaker said. Evidently, the nurse had notified the Captain, or whoever, that he was awake.
Wilkens was no Navy tech. He hadn't been on a spacecraft for years, not since the War had started, and he was shipped out to Earth. So, he had no idea where to look for the Bridge, and had no idea where on the ship he was at the moment. So, Wilkens had only the signs on the floors to go by.
After a short walk, Wilkens was met with two Navy security officers, sent to escort him to the Bridge. Wilkens nodded, and slicked his hair back, as they lead him through the many hallways of the ship. All Wilkens wanted to know was what the hell was happening.
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