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Death from Above part VI: The Gods of War
Posted By: AlphaBravo343<e.moeller3@verizon.com>
Date: 29 April 2003, 3:04 AM
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0103 Hours, January 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
North Western United States, SPARTAN-II group Bravo
The army of Spartans had swept through the north west part of the United States, and were still moving at an incredible pace. With the help of three battalions of UNSC Marines and several reigiments of ODSTs, they had managed to take back Detroit, Bangor, Washington D.C., the state of Delaware, and New Jersey. They were preparing to move on to the more southern states when all hell broke loose on manhattan...
Private Douglas was patrolling the small strip of road along the shore of the East river. The Spartans had made a fortress out of the island and it was under their complete control. He had his MA5B at his waist, holding it lazily with both hands. The seawall to his right gave way to a thick sheet of fog that surrounded the harbor. The air was thick with forboding and strangley, his stomach felt as if it were churning. Not literally, but it was the tell-tale sign that his instincts were telling him to be wary.
There was a loud clang down the small alley to his left, he raised his assult rifle in a lightning fast motion. The alley was dark, he kept his eye down the alley as he flicked the flashlight on his rifle to the "on" setting. The beam of light seemed thin in the heavy mist. He swept the rifle across the alley, and saw what had made the noise. A cat lay behind a trash can, its wide eyes staring at him, it shuddered and darted away.
He grinned as he turned back toward the street, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle. But all at once, he stopped walking, not on his own will, but it seemed as if a wall had fallen silently behind him in the time it took him to find the cat. He stepped back, puzzeled, and almost let out a scream at the silouhette that stood before him. He raised his rifle slowly up the figure. The light revealed two cloven hooves, and black armored shins, the light travelled up the creatures large and muscular chest, and finally resting on its head.
The Elite clicked its mandibles dripping with saliva, and let out a low snarl. Douglas started to shriek, but the air caught in his throat. Time had slowed, and he found he couldn't move his limbs. Nevertheless, he began to raise his MA5B, and he saw a strobe of blue-white light, heard the whine of a plasma weapon, and felt something slam into his chest. He fell backward, and his vision began to fog. He groped at his chest and felt the wound, he felt the exposed bones and the searing tissue of his inner chest. His hand came away sticky with his own blood. It doesn't hurt, he thought, shouldn't it hurt?
He scrambled to his knees, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his chest. He reached for the rifle with a shaking, blood smeared hand. The Elite pushed it's foot down on top of his arm, he heard bones crack, it didn't hurt either. He fell on to his back again, facing the Elite. It seemed to grin at him as It said in perfect english, "Your time has come to an end human" And it tightened it's grip on the glowing plasma rifle and aimed it at Douglas'face.
He somehow found the strength to lay hold of his M6D pistol strapped to his hip, and leveled it at the Elite's grinning face with a strength he didn't know he possessed. "Well, then I'll see you in hell," he said as he held down the trigger and the pistol spat .45 caliber rounds into it's face. It's sheild shimmered and blinked out from the sustained fire. It's eyes widened and Douglas smiled, bearing his blood filled mouth to the creature, and he squeezed the trigger. The last round in the magazine tore a fist-sized hole in the Elite's head, and the last thing Douglas saw was it's crumpled form fall beside him. And then he knew no more.
"COMM reports are coming in from all over the island sir!, the entire task force is engaged with a Spec-Ops group of Covenant soldiers!," shouted the tech Sargeant from his seat at the radio link.
"Alright, let's have Spartan group A move to the west end of the island, and send group B to the east end. The two Master Sargeants stood, saluted the Master Cheif and he returned it. They strode from the command tent and the Master Chief knew that they would carry out his orders and that the Covenant would be stalled here.
Explosions erupted around the Chief, a Wraith mortar tank launched a globule of plasma at his flank. He dove forward and felt the ground rumble. He looked behind him and saw a crater and the remnants of four marines that had once stood there. He quickly got to his feet and unslung his Jackhammer launcher. He leveled it at the hovering behemoth and squeezed both triggers. Twin puffs of exhaust streaked toward the tank and it detonated into three pieces. He looked off to his left and through the smoke of the battlefield, he could see several marines pinned down behind the burning chassis of a Warthog by a Ghost. He reloaded the launcher as he sprinted to the burning Warthog. He dove behind it just as several streaks of plasma sizzled by behind him.
"Thank God," muttered one of the marines, "I thought we were cooked."
"Not as long as I'm here, just sit tight, I'm gonna send that bastard to hell," said the Chief.
He popped out from behind the Warthog long enough to draw a bead on the ghost. He launched a rocket at the hovering vehicle and it's pilot tried to strafe out of the rocket's path. But it was too late, the rocket clipped the right "wing" of the craft and the wing dipped into the ground, sending the Ghost in a tumbling motion toward one of the nearby buildings. The Ghost plunged into the building's wall and exploded, sending it's howling pilot through the air. The Elite crumpled on the ground and the Cheif heard it's spine splinter beneath its muscular neck.
All at once, the battle stopped. The Chief looked around at the sky-scrapers, at the burning scy-scrapers, and the billowing orange-ish black smoke rising above the island in giant columns.
"Reports from all over the island sir, the Covenant is falling back, I repeat, falling back," spoke the Corporal through the hissing COMM link through his helmet's speakers.
"Thank you Corporal, Master Chief Spartan-117, out," He replied. Cortana would have told me that the Chief thought to himself. But Cortana had been called out to The Supreme Admiral's ship in orbit. He felt as if a part of him was missing.
He pushed the thoughts aside and began to ponder where they should move next. They had stonewalled the Covenant in the North West, and the Covenant had lost well over ten-thousand troops in the war on Earth. And humanity had lost about thirteen-thousand soldiers. He was very suprised at how well the fight was going. He had heard that the battle above the planet was going exceptionally well too, they had successfully repelled three waves of Covenant ships. The last had come a week ago, and no more after that. The Covenant troops left on Earth were stranded...and that made them all the more dangerous.
To be continued...
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