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Tau Chi II: Ch. 5 - Contact
Posted By: Myth
Date: 20 January 2009, 9:09 am
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Tau Chi II: Orbital Path, Centauri System
Aboard: UNSCDF Cerberus
Crew Barracks: Deck Nine
Jeremy Hale ambled along the corridors of the Cerberus, exhausted from the events of his previous shift. The surviving UNSC ships were safely on the far side of Tau Chi now, sheltered from their Covenant counterparts for the next eleven hours.
'A' crew had been relieved at once, ordered to get as much sleep as possible. The Longsword Wings had dispatched the last of the Covenant boarding vessels several hours ago, and the threat of enemy infiltrators had been averted. Hale removed his pistol belt and gripped it loosely with his left hand, allowing the strap to drag along the deck with a series of clacking each time to encountered a chink in the plating.
He stumbled into the crew barracks and collapsed on the nearest cot, depositing his pistol on the table nearby. It felt as if tiny weights had been festooned to his eyelids, slowing weighing them down until they connected, plunging him into darkness.
Sleep came almost instantly, bringing forth new demons to torment his rest. His mind conjured up visions of horrible aberrations, screams clad in broken armor. The creatures' wails answered by the desperate pleas of help from the cornered soldiers, unarmed and defenseless against the monsters before them.
He was forced to watch from above, knowing their pain as if it were his, subject to watch and listen to their terror, as their bodies were ripped apart before his eyes. Each would cry out his name before their last breath departed from their lips, crying out for salvation from the hell they had been sent to…
Hale's eyes shot open and rolled out on to the deck with a crash. His body was bathed in sweat, and he sobbed uncontrollably. Shivers racked his body as the fear abated, granting him a measure of the calm he usually commanded.
"Hale?" The voice said from above him. His bunkmate was a Longsword pilot who flew escort for troop deployments to the surface.
"I'm fine. Nightmare," he said, toweling his brow with the hem of his shirt.
Lieutenant Commander Franklin Gear hopped down to the deck from the bunk above him. "What about?"
"Don't wanna talk about it," Hale said, standing.
"Your friends on the Bridge?" Franklin asked.
"Its not that its…" He paused, choking back more tears. "I let them die down there, Frank! I let them die!"
"Let who die?"
"Those Marines! I sent them down there, I chose them for the op, and then I wasn't there when they needed me. If only I could have—"
"…You know that's bullshit, man. Those boys knew what they were getting into, and they wouldn't have made it even if you could have reached them the whole time," Gear said grimly, placing a hand on Hale's shoulder.
"Juliet called for extraction…if I had got the uplink situated sooner…"
"Hey, you brought eight guys back, right?" Gear shrugged.
"Seven," Hale answered, straightening.
"You keeping cool when it was going down brought those guys home. You did fine."
"…Seven out of an entire company." The sickening revelation seemed to slither over him and tighten its grip on his neck.
"Look, man. I know this is your first. Believe me I've been there. Being an officer means that you will see men die, and there's no getting around that. It doesn't get any easier, but you can't blame yourself for their deaths."
"Yeah I know…it just feels like…I'm responsible for them," Hale explained.
"You are. But it doesn't mean that if you're more responsible that they aren't going to die. I'm not downplaying their deaths, Hale. I watched half my squadron go down today, believe me it hurts, but you just gotta do your job with a level head and do it right…that's all you can do. And you did."
"Yeah…I guess so. I don't know, the whole time I feel like I was watching someone else, like I was on autopilot…and then…it just hit me I guess."
"It's alright, pal. You did fine. Now we both got jobs to do, and let's get to 'em. Come on, I'll walk you down," Franklin stood, zipping up the front of his flight suit.
Hale followed the pilot for several decks aft, until Gear split off to head to the hangers. Jeremy took a deep breath and crossed the threshold of the CIC. The calm washed back over him like cool water. He exhaled and took his chair behind a repaired Ops terminal. The sign in finished and he returned to work.
Brauer stood at the fore of the Command Deck, hands clasped at the small of his back, gazing out the central view port. Hale watched him for a moment, looking at the man with a newfound respect and admiration. The captain stood on bloodstained decks, watched half of his crew vaporized before his eyes, and still he maintained unwavering mettle.
Hale looked away from the officer, and accessed the Operations mainframe. He swiveled away from the console and stood before the glass pane display. A holographic representation of Wing 4-6 raced out from the shadow of Tau Chi's moon and laid out a field of SHIVA tactical warheads in a loose net a few thousand kilometers outside the defense perimeter. Let's see if that works…
Tau Chi II Sector, Centauri System
Aboard: Covenant Assault Carrier Confession's Price
Supreme Commander Sarkmere Talom'ee strode the corridors towards the Command Center of the Covenant Assault Carrier. The vanguard legions were already preparing for the invasion, and the activity on the bridge mirrored that. Covenant naval crews differed from their human counterparts in that many of Sark's bridge officers were also prominent leaders of his contingent of ground forces.
His weapons officers were assembling their assault harnesses and priming their plasma carbines. The Commander longed to accompany them; he was loath to send Sangheili to battle when he was not there to lead them. Not that he was worried for them, Sangheili relished the glory of combat, and an honorable death was an aspiration of all their greatest warriors. No, he was reluctant to be absent from the field to share the carnage with his brethren.
Talom'ee gazed down at the plasma rifle at his hip, visible from a shift of his robes. He sighed softly and gathered the garment around himself. Kaln materialized at his side, watching the displays of the troops moving about on the holographic projections.
"Are they ready, Kaln?"
"Indeed, Excellency," The Elite turned to face him, his golden eyes illustrating a measure of concern. "The probe revealed some startling information, Commander."
"And what would that be?" Sark asked, listening intently, though fixing his eyes on the displays.
"The human contingents on the southern surface have been decimated."
Sark shifted his gaze. "I do not see how this is ill news, comrade."
"Commander, our forces had been confirmed eliminated at the time of the humans arrival, once they had gained entry to the Forerunner structure, they dropped out of contact," Kaln face did mirror concern, but nothing akin to fear.
"Perhaps a sentry system set in place by the ancients that we failed to recognize?" Sark suggested, his mind turning over the possibilities.
"…Unlikely," Kaln was withholding something. He suspected the answer. "Not Fasa'ee and all under his command. There would have been survivors."
Sark stumbled over a troubling realization. "…No, not here. They were dealt with on the—"
"It would seem, brother, that we have been misinformed once again."
"Burn the planet," Sark ordered, "If the Hierarchs cannot prepare us for what we are to encounter, we have nothing more to gain here."
"Are we to discard the quarantine policies as well, Sark? Wattinr'ee's orders were impossible to misinterpret…and despite even our best efforts at glassing the human worlds, there are always survivors."
Sarkmere swore softly. He had let his frustration cloud his judgment for a moment. "The humans will fall to infection…and the Parasite will spread to the stars…you're correct. We have an obligation to fulfill."
Kaln's mandibles clamped together, betraying a measure of tense resignation. "I suspected such a response, I will lead the legions myself."
"I would have no one else," Sark answered. "The Flood will sense the nearest presence of a high populace…which seems to be this human metropolis here, Chinhae-Taejon." The Commander fumbled with the words meant for human mouths.
"Shall we burn the region before our lances set down?"
"No…the charred landscape would only hamper our forces' movements, leaving them vulnerable to the Parasite's survivors," Sark stated. "Disregard my previous directives…we will have to eliminate the human presence in their cities and then burn their vessels, only then will the planet be cleansed…once any form of escape for the infection has been dealt with."
"Yes, Excellency. I'll send down the advance lances," Kaln saluted crisply and strode off the command platform. Sark watched him leave, turning back towards his displays.
The Supreme Commander raised an armored hand and waved it before the projections. The screen shimmered and shifted as if a pool of water. When the image cleared, it portrayed the CCS Triumvirate moving forward of the Prophet's Blade, accompanied by dozens of Seraph fighters, floating about the gargantuan battle-cruiser like tiny shimmering raindrops.
"There is something amiss," Kaln's voice resonated from the bridge below the platform.
Sark concentrated on the bulbous CCS moving into a field of wreckage of UNSC ships. The point lasers of the Triumvirate detected an object and opened fire. The display instantly turned white with a flash of light.
"What treachery is this?" One of the deck officers asked desperately.
"The final attempts at resistance from a dying animal, friend." Kaln's cool voice answered. Sark stared at the displays until the projections cleared, revealing a broken silhouette of what was the Triumvirate.
"Patience seems to be a virtue ignored when coupled with a pressing objective," Sark clenched his jaw with contained frustration. "And the price is another thousand lives…let us proceed with care, Sangheili. The humans are only the beginning of this conflict, but they are not to be ignored."
Sark looked down at his waist, where his blade clung to his armor. He released a slow exhale and ignited Unforgiving, moving the white-hot blade against his forearms in a pair of crosses, scalding his gray skin to a bright red.
He stifled a snarl as the pain arrived milliseconds afterwards. A few Sangheili had noticed, but had wisely remained rigid at their posts, attending their duties. The blade was replaced at his waist and his robes adjusted to hide his recently acquired imperfection.
The self-inflicted dishonor was a miniscule, insignificant payment for the hundreds sent to die from a poorly considered directive. He would bear the scars with the ill will that accompanied such things. He cleared the fog of pain from his mind and straightened. "Barrage the field, clear away the human defenses."
The nine Covenant capital ships fluidly advanced through the vacuum, battering the wreckage fields with salvos of plasma blasts. The barrage was met with an answering set of bright flashes as the last of the human's nuclear devices detonated harmlessly.
"Send a lance to the Triumvirate and recover its survivors," Sark dictated to no one in particular, but knew the directive would be carried out.
Tau Chi II, Centauri System
Chinhae-Taejon, Pesanga Province
AA-Position Bravo: Echo Platoon
"Whaddaya think, Sam?" PFC. Casey asked from behind the spotter's scope.
"I dunno, man." Lance Corporal Samuel Hawkins shifted from behind his riflescope to retrieve the D-DACT clipped to his vest. "Command's got no birds in for the next hour…check the call sign…"
"She don't got one…Covenant maybe? Its still too far to make out the make…all I've got is a faint engine signature on the long-range scanners," Erik Casey informed him, looked up from the scope.
The two snipers lay prone on the thirtieth story of an incomplete skyscraper project, overlooking the anti-aircraft battery nestled against the seawall of Chinhae's southern border.
"You think anything's gonna go down?" Casey asked. The Marine's helmet lay next to him, allowing him to peer through the spotter's scope more easily. His exposed countenance betrayed a tinge of concern.
"You'll see her again, Case. Just be cool, and we'll be fine," Sam encouraged, looking up at his friend for a moment.
"…Yeah, I hope so. You know she's pregnant?" Casey said quietly, almost embarrassedly.
"No shit? Congratulations!" Sam smiled widely, exposing perfect white teeth against his dark skin. "Do her folks know yet?"
"Heh, I'd be dead already, pal. Nicole's old man is a captain in the 105th."
"Shee-it. Better watch yourself. I've got a few buddies in the 105th, hardcore sons 'a bitches. You know they were on Jericho?"
"Holy fuck, he's going to kill me," Casey said, laughing softly.
Sam chuckled as well. "Better ask to marry her right now. Might only break your legs if you hurry."
A few more stifled laughs terminated the conversation. A garbled voice asked their status a moment later.
"Eyes 3-1, this is Control, got anything?"
"Yeah, Sarge. We got a faint hit on sensor group 3-9-8 …unknown classification." Casey held up the map to assure himself he had given the correct the location.
"Wilco, Eyes. We'll watch for 'em."
An incessant beeping blared in their earpieces. "Scratch that, Sarge! We got a Covenant contact group moving up over the water, same sector."
"Acknowledged, Eyes, lightin' up 3-9-8," The Control Ops sergeant warned. Hawkins watched as the turret of the AA battery swung towards the waterline and filled the sky with clouds of flak.
The 10x magnification scope revealed the violet, bulbous Phantoms soaring directly into the battery's field of fire. There were six Phantoms, flying in no recognizable formation. The leading dropships slammed into the wall of flak, obliterating the crafts' hull, pitching their wreckage into the thrashing seas beneath.
The loss of the first two craft seemed to promote action from the others. The four Phantoms evaded another salvo from the battery with jolted movements. The wing group crossed over land, the event punctuated with another dropship crashing to the sand below in a pillar of flame. A squadron of M808B Scorpions rolled into position around the battery, preparing to repel the encroaching hostiles.
The battery below was set in a large plaza. Marines were shoving barricades into place and taking up positions on the lower level buildings.
Hawkins snapped onto the crippled Phantom half-buried in the sand of the beachhead. "Show time, Case. Whaddaya got?"
"Nine hundred and twelve meters…little less than a second of flight time. Six kilometer per hour winds coming out of the north…movement," Casey's hushed report resonated into Hawkins's earpiece.
"Target…what is that?" Casey asked, adjusting the scope to assure his brain of what he had seen.
Hawkins did not possess the same confusion. He compensated for time, movement and the wind and selected one of the figures emerging from the dropship. He squeezed the trigger, provoking the rifle to recoil against his shoulder.
One, one thousand…
Pop. The 15.2mm APFSDS round tore through the macabre form's chest, obliterating the creature's upper body, leaving the legs to take a few more steps before collapsing to the sand.
"Another target, eight hundred and seventy-four meters, wind's died down…flight time the same," Casey dictated.
The bullet left the barrel instantly, flying through the target's skull, exploding it with a shower of brains. Hawkins was already switching targets when he realized the form hadn't slowed its charge.
"What the fuck?" He breathed, targeting the chest and firing again. The third shot dismembered the form as the first had. The figure did not move again.
"Sam, I've got some little guys comin' out of the Phantom…"
"Don't worry about the little squid fuckers," Sam breathed, squeezing off his last round.
"Shit, Sam! We've got multiple hostiles moving left!" Case reached for his BR55HB and shouldered the carbine.
The sharp notes of the battle rifle's report snapped through the air. Hawkins reached for a pile of magazines and slammed one home. "Control, you have multiple hostiles closing in on your right flank!"
Four other sniper teams replied instantly, firing upon the lines of encroaching invaders. The M808's followed suit, pivoting on their four sets of treads to blow away entire waves of the grotesque monstrosities.
One of the Scorpions rolled forward, firing with its thirty caliber cannon into the throng. Sabot rounds showered the masses as well from a collection of sharpshooters. Hawkins watched as an ocean of the squid forms crawled over the surface of the tank, attaching themselves to the chest of the gunner and driver inside.
A scream cut through the COM as the men died, strangled to death by tendril-like tentacles. The tank lay still for a moment and then rotated its turret and cannon, firing on its former comrades' lines. Confusion set in seconds later as swarms of the little forms crashed over the UNSC defenses. Within seconds, confusion turned to chaos, as the surviving Marines were cut down by hordes of the decayed undead.
"Who do we hit?" Casey screamed. "Sam!"
Sam watched as Marines below fought hopelessly against infection forms adhered to their bodies, thrashing as the creatures won dominion over them. With a choked sound, looking into a man's eyes through the scope and squeezed the trigger.
The sabot round hit him in the chest with a plume of crimson, allowing him to lie still. "Their gone, Case! They're all fucking gone!"
Case bit his lip and lowered his helmet over his head, pressed a hand to his transmitter. "Cerberus Command, this is Eyes 3-1! We have an overrun position in Chin-Tae double 'a' Bravo! Broken Arrow, repeat, Broken Arrow!"
Hale's voice answered immediately. "Affirm on directive, Eyes. How many friendlies in the zone?"
Case looked at Sam with a grieved glance. Sam nodded grimly in response. "None. Repeat, there are no friendlies in the zone," Case replied, choking on the words.
In reply, a squadron of Shortswords screeched overhead, deploying cluster munitions and incendiary ordnance across the surface of Echo Platoon's former position. Buildings crumpled to their foundations, crushing dozens of dying Marines and their counterparts in the process. The napalm finished the gruesome task, adhering to the bodies of everything within the kill zone, burning it to death and beyond.
"We gotta go, man," Sam said urgently. "The other teams are on the wrong side of the line…we're the only ones left." There was movement even within the flames, coupled with the screams of the dying. The other sniper teams might have survived the strike, but their positions put the new hostilities in the path of their escape into the city center.
"Contact Command. Whatever the hell those things were, they just wiped us the fuck out," Sam stated, slinging the S2 over his shoulder and scrambling to depart their perch.
"…Shit," Casey swore.
"What?"
"Uplink for this sector musta taken a hit…I've got nothing to Command."
"Fuck. Okay, Callahan and his boys are dug in farther inside…let's move."
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