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Souls of War.: Part 1: Tides of Battle
Posted By: Dark-NiTe
Date: 14 February 2004, 6:47 AM
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John's face was unreadable beneath the impervious and ominous gold sheen of his visor. He sat motionless inside the Pelican, the green of his Spartan armor radiating nobility. He held sternly his AR, finger resting on trigger as always.
A marine named Neal Anderson looked up at the Spartan as he sat next to him, and wondered what he was thinking. Did Spartan's not fear battle? Was it true? He could really only guess, dissmissing the thought of talking to a Master Cheif of such things. He looked around at the rest of the squadron inside the dark interior of the gently swaying Pelican, Gin Omanosuke, Charlie Newman, Jim Barnsworth, Miguel Rodriguez, Earl King, and Bill Williams sat shoulder to shoulder in the bench seats beside and in front of him.
"We're comin' up on the beach," Sgt. Johnson breifed. There was a vicious thunderstorm outside, rain pouring down in deluges. "Lock and load marines, we've got more riding on this battle than just OUR asses. WE can't let these SOB's fire Halo!" The squad shuffled quietly making once-overs of their equipment, loading up, or strapping a few extra clips on from the ammuntions crate. "Now, are you ready to send these bastards to hell!?" Johnson barked. He spoke not to the Master Cheif.
The marines resounded in an outcry of agreement. John said nothing, he looked down slightly to Neal Anderson beside him. The Pelican swooped down over a wet gray beach, the hull suddenly shook accompanied by the sound of a plasma blast. Fuel-Rod Guns...
"The ship's tak--too-fire! I'll---dro--" The pilot's southern accent was almost completely drowned in static. Neal's stomach flew up into his throat as another blast spun the Pelican violently.
"Shit!" Earl King blurted as he fell from his seat. A grenade klinked from his belt falling out of the Pelican's back hatch. The dropship fought for its bearings and stalled then at an upward angle. They were all going to fall out of the ship if this continued. The dropship was still about 50 feet over the swirling gray ocean below. Thunder cracked deafiningly.
"I can't hol---the sh---an-longer, I--" the intercom snapped off and the Pelican began a decent tailfirst toward the ocean. The squad held onto anything they could at that moment. John braced for the disaster. Sgt. Johnson let out a yell just before the ship plunged into the icy water.
Cold, and blackness were the only things identifiable to the marines as they hit water. The Pelican overturned allowing them to swim to the surface; they were lucky they weren't boxed in. Gin Omanosuke was the first soldier above water, and he wiped his eyes while treading water to see. The battle ensuing on the beach was simultaniously awe-inspring, and utterly terrifying to him. Marines rushed up the grey sand to a huge metal structure that had plasma cannons firing off it in every direction, shooting off green, purple, and blue streamers of death into the human forces. Sand plumes blossomed from explosions dotting the battlefeild, while screams were heard of human and alien alike. The golden streaks of bullets whizzed relentlessly in every direction as melee battles ensued between the dualing species.
It was sheer chaos.
John raised his head above the water looking for his squad. Luckily, they all survived and swam to shore as purple plasma seared by them in clusters of three from the turrets of the Covenent spire. They slammed into the water around them, heaving splashes of water inches beside them. They all grouped behind an overturned Warthog and Ghost that had collided hours ago.
"The Sargent! The Sargent!" Miguel yelled in a Spanish accent with concern while pointing to Johnson.
"Stay here and only fire if you need to! I'll see if the sargent's alright or not!" John yelled in a stony smooth voice over the gunfire that showed concern without panic or fear. He waded to the Sargent, who lay in shallow water just off the coast. The rain soaked all of them to the marrow of their bones as the wind whipped it insultingly in their faces.
"God, I can't do this!" Neal shouted. He felt ashamed in his cowardice.
"Hold yourself together man! Yer out here now and there's not a damn thing you can to about except shoot or get shot!" Jim Barnsworth told him as an explosion rained dirt over their bodies from behind the Warthog/Ghost-barricade. He was right.
John arrived at the Sargent's side, as he lay there in the water. "Damn, my side! What the hell is in my side?!" Johnson yelled in pain. John grimaced slightly at the sight of the huge shrapnel hunk lodged in the Sargent's right side. The wound was bleeding profusely, staining the water around them. John knew that Sgt. Johnson would probably die there.
"Hold still," John said, the only advice he could give. The rain swirled around the two men of war as thunder cracked in the distance. John had been through a lot of fights with Johnson, and didn't know what would happen if he, or the squad were to lose him.
"Master,ugh,Chief," Johnson grunted the adress in pain. "I know its not your job to run my company, but I don't know if I'll come back from this one to do it myself. John," (The Master Cheif actually felt a chill down his spine being it the first time Johnson had adressed him by his first name.) "John, if i really don't get back up...please do this for me. Go. Go back to the squad!"
Spartan's weren't supposed to get attached to someone, but John couldn't help it. They had been through so many battles together. He hesitated to leave. "GO!" Johnson pushed the Cheif off of him just as a plasma beam scorched through his armor and seared into the skin on his chest.
John got up with a splash of water droplets around his feet. Johnson...sacrificed his own life for him...
John's eyes then fell on the squad huddled behind the crashed vehicles on shore. Before he ran back to them, he put Sargent Johnson's AR close to his chest. The Cheif then ran back to his squad, and the waves of that grey sea on Halo, the tides of battle, swallowed Sargent Johnson and carried him away.
DUNN, DUNN, DUMMMMMM...TO BE CONTINUED.
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