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Groundside
Posted By: Jihan Batuman<obiwn411@yahoo.com>
Date: 27 February 2005, 3:12 PM
Read/Post Comments
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History- I started the writing for this after I saw the E3 2003 Halo 2 video, but due to laziness, I never really finished until now. This is my first fan fic, so go easy on the criticism. Oh yeah, and if you notice similarities with this story and the First Strike book, just realize that I finished writing this story's rough draft before that book came out.
"Cortana, we'll evac the wounded, keep me posted."
"Of course, Sergeant."
UNSC Sergeant Avery Johnson, his men in tow, went down a ramp to a makeshift aid station. He slowed down, his lips tightening. All around him, marines with plasma burns, missing body parts, and broken bones. Blood was everywhere. His heart clenched and he ground his teeth. The one thing he hated more than the Covenant was seeing his comrades injured.
"You there! Sergeant!"
Johnson spun around, searching for the speaker. He focused on a tall blond man, with a Captains insignia. He saluted quickly, noticing the blood on the man's arms and his face.
"At ease."
He coughed and waved the Sergeant closer.
"Sergeant, my unit was slaughtered about 7 kliks north of this area, on a top secret mission from UNSC Earth HQ. A mission that could halt the Covenant long enough for our men to regroup and organize for the next attack."
Johnson nodded, though he was puzzled why the Captain was telling him this.
"I need you and your men to help me go back and complete the mission."
Johnson shifted his weight awkwardly. The Captain might not be a good commander, considering the fate of his previous squad. However, if he were telling the truth, it would be very important for the UNSC defenders. Johnson thought of his men, all standing silently behind him, waiting for his orders. Through their face-plates, their eyes were all locked on him, waiting to see what he said. His men were the best the ODST had to offer, their training was excellent and their equipment was superb. He knew they would fight until the death if he ordered them to. And they just might have to do that if he accepted.
"Sir, lets move out."
Over his earpiece, he heard PFC Khalil Romain grumble unhappily. Johnson turned his head and stared angrily at him. Romain said something about getting ready and crept off. 5 minutes later, 4 warthogs, 2 with chain-guns and 2 with gauss cannons, drove out of the UNSC motor pool. The Captain drove the first warthog, with Corporal Yang riding shotgun and Corporal Schultz on the chain-gun. With their full-head helmets, they could talk to the rest of the squad without the Captain overhearing them. Sergeant Johnson listened to their colorful remarks as the Captain led them north.
"Half-way there," the Captain's voice crackled over the warthog's radio.
Private Li, in the back of the Sergeant's 'hog, gripped his gauss cannon tighter at the hope of combat. 2 Longsword bombers roared over head, heading in the direction of the aid station. Without warning, a charged plasma bolt shot towards Sergeant Johnson. He ducked quickly and felt the plasma singe the hair on the back of his neck. He hit the brakes and drew his sidearm. Riding shotgun in the Sergeant's warthog, Private Alexi responded too sluggishly and the bolt tore into his helmet. It melted through the metal and started to burn the skin on the side of his face. Johnson ripped the Private's helmet off and putting his sidearm down, examined the wound. The helmet had saved the young man's life. All he had suffered were a few secondary degree burns and a scar on his neck. Even if he were conscious, he wouldn't be able to fight. Johnson carried him to the last warthog in the line, taking PFC Romain as a replacement passenger. Private Taylor drove the injured marine back to the aid station, promising that he would return once Alexi had been returned safely. Johnson ran back to his 'hog, stepping over a few dead grunts that Corporal Schultz had mowed down. The Captain ordered them to start moving again. Schultz almost fell out before he could get a grip on his smoking chain-gun.
"Almost there! Be prepared for another ambush," shouted the Captain.
Johnson flicked his eyes to the weapons slot of the warthog to make sure his battle-rifle was secure.
"HEY!"
Johnson looked up at where Corporal Yang was pointing. Something falling from the sky caught his attention. Most of the pods near them plowed into buildings, crushing themselves on steel and concrete structures. Only 8 of the pods landed in front of them.
"FIRE!"
The Captain's voice shattered the silence. Johnson turned to give his gunner and passenger a better line of fire. He grabbed his rifle and hopped out. He watched the Captain pull out his sidearm and fill the first elite with lead. Johnson nodded inwardly. The Captain was far more competent than the Sergeant had assumed. He didn't freeze when the pods landed and had ordered them to fire while the occupants were still disoriented. The Elites roared angrily as they were pounded with gauss and machine gun rounds, taking down their shields and penetrating their armor. The fire from the warthogs turned the street around them into a pool of purple-black blood. The 'hogs roared ahead, steering around the pods and bumping over the pulpy remains of the elites. They stopped in front of a plain looking building, only 2 stories high. The Captain hopped out of his warthog and waved the squad towards the door.
"This is the objective building. The Covenant may have gotten inside, so watch out for opposition. You two, stay out here and guard the vehicles."
Yang and Romain grudgingly got into the 'hogs and moved them into a defensive formation. The Captain loaded his shotgun and the men lined up next to the door on both sides. Sergeant Johnson handed out silencers to the men except for Corporal Lynch, who had SMGS. He put on his own silencers and nodded. The Captain made the gesture and Lynch kicked open the door, firing as he went. His fire took out the two Grunts near the doorway and the Captain blew away a surprised Elite. They obviously weren't expecting an attack, considering the Grunts didn't have their weapons powered on and the Elite's shield was off. The Elite made a futile attempt to reach his weapon, but choked on it's own blood and stopped moving. With the Captain in the lead, they cleared out the rest of the floor. Private Villamarr headed for the stairs, but the Captain called him back.
"This is it men, the objective should be below us, so check for a hatch or something."
The marines looked around in vain, finding nothing.
"Well, well, well... So much for an objective! This is bullsh-"
The Sergeant cuffed Schultz across the face. The Corporal was visibly restraining himself from hitting back.
"I hope this isn't a rescue mission," a loud voice cut in.
"Major Rittweger?"
Lynch and Schultz shook hands with him. Johnson was embarrassed at the way the enlisted men treated a high-ranking officer and he growled audibly. The Major grinned and explained that he was from the same town as the two men. A silhouette appeared in the doorway.
"Uh, Sarge? It's gettin' kinda dark out here!"
Sergeant Johnson sighed and waved to Romain to come inside. The tall man called out to Yang and they both jogged into the building. The Major lead them into a metal tunnel that had before been invisible. As soon as they were all in, he punched in a code and the doors clicked together. After a long walk, they reached another metal door. This time, 6 machine-guns popped out of the wall and covered the marines. A camera dropped from the ceiling and swept over them. The door slid open silently and the men walked in.
"The UNSC had a backup plan in case there was ever an invading Covenant fleet that got the best of our defenses. I was "volunteered" to be the fail-safe commander and stay here to make sure that the plan was carried out. I had a squad of marines with me who were trained to operate this in an emergency. As soon as they heard about the Covenant ground forces, they left me here. The Captain grinned.
"I told you I'd get back."
The Major shook his head and went back to the explanation.
"Gentlemen, this is not your garden variety Pelican dropship. He stopped in front of the Pelican. Well, it looked like a Pelican.
"WOW! Turrets! EMP plating! It's even got... Those are WAY bigger than Archer missiles!"
Johnson gave Yang a look that would make a flower wilt. Yang turned red and slunk to the back of the group.
The Major sighed at the second interruption and continued, "Say hello to UNSC operation 1X59, sub-project 60A. The Thermoplyae."
He turned to look at the confused marines and finished his explanation.
"It has 2 50. cal turrets on the side, manually used, for anti-fighter fire. It also has the standard nose 50. cal. The EMP plating is to help spread the blast of the nukes in the cargo bay. It also contains a-"
"Wait, wait, wait... TWENTY NUKES?"
The Major glared at Yang for his second outburst. Yang grinned sheepishly and slouched under the other marines.
"As I was saying, it also has a standard UNSC escape pod, capable of holding up to 18 passengers, including the pilots. The marines with me were supposed to complete the mission for me, but they left to go topside to fight the Covenant ground force. The Sergeant thought for a moment before he burst out.
"This can take out the Covenant fleet above Earth!"
"Indeed, Sergeant."
The Major stared at the marines while they mulled over this information. Private Dubbo prayed silently for the Sergeant not to volunteer them.
"We'll do it, Major!"
Johnson ignored the moans and started for the Pelicans hatch. He turned and faced the rest of the men.
"Don't just stand there, damnit! We gotta figure out how this works."
Half and hour later, the Captain, Corporals Yang, Schultz, and Lynch, and PFC Romain got onto the Pelican.
"Remember, get as close to the center of the fleet as you can before you set the launch. If you don't set the timer, the escape pod's computer has a remote detonator. The escape pod is programmed to land in a nearby park. The other marines will go to clear it out and hold it until you all land. The nukes' smart launchers will guide them to the largest ships in the largest amount of space, for maximum damage."
"Peachy," murmured Yang.
The Captain powered up the Pelican and flew it out of the opening dome.
"Ok, men. While they are parading around in space, we get to camp out. Lets go set up a perimeter in the park. MOVE!"
Rittweger let them out a locked the doors. He ran back to the computers to monitor their progress. The Pelican tore through the atmosphere, its powerful engines pushing it faster than a normal dropship. The men prepped the nukes and escape pod while the Captain steered them towards the looming Covenant fleet.
"Crap," Lynch laughed nervously.
"CONTACT!"
The capital ships didn't even bother to fire on what they thought was a small threat. Instead, a smaller ship launched out a few Seraph fighters. The nose gun peppered their shields, but the fighters flew past the ship before it could do enough damage. Yang and Romain ran to the turrets. The Captain aimed the ship towards a large cluster of command ships. He looked at the radar and braced himself as he saw the fighters coming up behind him. An explosion rocked the ship.
"Damage report!"
The Captain got his answer as he heard Yang scream.
"HELP ME!"
The Captain turned and saw the stubby wing of the dropship was burnt and that Yang's turret was hanging from a thin strip of metal. As the momentum of the engines pushed it forward, the turret was ripped off. Unfortunately, Yang couldn't even open the hatch, and his oxygen line and tether were ripped off. He would die a slow and painful death as he used up his remaining oxygen. Romain roared and fired heavily at the fighter that had killed Yang and was rewarded by seeing it spin around, its engines burning. It exploded and took out the fighter next to it as well. However, there were still 2 fighters to deal with.
"Get to the escape pod on the double!"
"Sir, if we try to get out, the fighters will slaughter us!"
Schultz was right. They needed to distract the fighters while they made their escape. The pod would be vulnerable until its afterburners kicked in. To make matters worse, a silvery blade started cutting through the top. The Captain set the launchers for 2 minutes and ran to the remaining turret. He put on an oxygen mask and made sure the men had theirs on too.
"Get in the pod. You have a minute and a half to get out of here."
He didn't listen to the men's arguments and got into the turret. Their survival instinct kicked in and they dove into the pod. The fighters had lowered their guard during the cease fire and the machine-gun rounds made a glowing ball of fire that illuminated the dark space. The remaining fighter peeled off and flew back to its mothership. The pod rumbled out of the bay. The Captain watched its engines ignite and the ungainly craft flew out silently. The elites were almost through now. 40 seconds left. The Captain pulled out his pistol and chambered a round. The first Elite dropped in, its plasma sword ignited. He shot it in the face 5 times before it fell down dead. The second elite met the same fate. The other Elites were somewhat luckier. The third one took the last 2 rounds to the face and tripped, temporarily blinded. He hit the floor, impaled on his own plasma sword. The last 2 grabbed him as he was reloading and threw him to the ground. They kicked him savagely and yelled at him in their strange language. As blood oozed from his mouth, he looked at the timer. 18 seconds. The elites chortled and kicked him again. He heard a snap as some of his ribs caved in. The bone tore through his chest. 11 seconds. They seemed bored and raised their swords. 8 seconds.
One of them yelled at him again and laughed. 4 seconds.
"Go...To...Hell!"
They hooted loudly and brought down their swords.
Boom.
The nukes launched, shaking the Pelican with mighty force. The elites were thrown back. They shook their heads in confusion and got back on their feet. The nukes each had a smart computer in it. They locked on the enemy fleet and spread out. At least 2,000 command ships were blown into oblivion. 5,000 smaller ships were also consumed in the blast. 23 other ships suffered splash damage and spun as their controls went haywire. They spun into other ships, destroying another 12.
The occupants of the pod started at the spectacle. A cloud of light rushed towards them... Stopping 50 feet short of the small craft. Schultz turned off the afterburners as they entered the atmosphere. They flew downward, seeing more and more terrain detail. Soon they could see the city and the tiny patch of green that was the park. They slowed down dramatically, though still going very fast. They lost all momentum and were carried down on their engines. After a few minutes, they could see the park more clearly. And the blue and green plasma bolts crisscrossing the area.
Sergeant Johnson was having big problems. Unlike the Elites he had encountered, quite a few had survived, and were rallying the other Covenant ground troops. Although the marines had pushed back the first wave, twice as many elites had returned, with even more Grunts and Jackals. Most of the park was under Covenant control, except for the corner with the playground on it. Johnson WAS glad he had no losses, though Cousteau had a couple of plasma burns. They had all made it to the back up area alive. When the pod landed, however, it would land right in the middle of the Humans and the Covenant. The Sergeant wished that Master Chief 117 were with them right now. A large, glowing ball arched majestically closer to him, breaking his thoughts about the Spartan. It landed about 10 feet to his left. When the dust settled, he glanced to his side. Corporal Cousteau wasn't there, but there was a small crater where the Frenchman had been crouching. Private Dubbo, who had been in-between the marine and the Sergeant at his machine-gun emplacement, was missing parts from his ballistic suit, and the exposed flesh was bloody and burnt. PFC Tom Clark, the squad's best marksman, watched through his
modified scope, searching for targets.
"HUNTER!" He cried.
The squad, hearing his shout, dove for cover. Johnson swore. There was no way they could take out the Hunter without a rocket launcher or other heavy weapon. Dubbo fired a machine-gun burst, but the Hunter put up its shield. Sergeant Johnson stared hopelessly as the behemoth lumbered towards their position. He started praying silently for any form of help available.
The escape pod hit the ground hard. It bounced up a few feet, than came skipping down. The Hunter tried to dodge, but the lumbering beast was too slow. It grinded to a stop 6 feet later, purple blood marking its trail. The hatched popped open and a smiling marine waved to the Sergeant. Even as Johnson shouted out to him, a blade of floating plasma poked through Corporal Schultz's chest. He looked down in surprise, and collapsed into the Elite. SMG rounds tore into the assassin and it fell to the ground, twitching in its death throes. Another Elite dove towards the pod, only to have its head explode. PFC Clark reloaded his sniper rifle, grinning. The ground squad covered the escape pod occupants as best they could without hitting them. The marines ran faster than they ever had in their lives. PFC Romain was cut down as he jumped over a log. The plasma bolts had caught him in his lower back, propelling him into a jungle gym, where he hung like a grotesque scarecrow. Private Villamarr was cut in half by enemy fire when he stood up to help the others get into cover. Johnson took a quick headcount. Lynch, Clark, Dubbo, Taylor, and himself. Taylor had kept his word and returned once Alexi was safe. The Major had been evacuated, but the marines were left behind, told to wait for their squad mates. Although their warthogs were now on the Covenant side of the park, the UNSC Special Forces team had left them 2 Gauss warthogs. Johnson took a 'hog, with Lynch and Clark. Taylor and Dubbo took the other one. The Sergeant took off, the 2 warthogs sped away as 4 Elites and 6 Jackals threw plasma grenades at their old position. They tore through the Covenant filled streets, not stopping to engage, just killing enough aliens to get through. Johnson's radio crackled and he braked. Taylor barely stopped in time to avoid an accident. He glanced around worriedly, watching for Covenant. A large figure hopped into his gunner seat, nodding for the warthogs to start moving again. Taylor stared at the Spartan, a heroic looking figure on the Gauss cannon. He stomped
down on the gas pedal, still shaking his head to make sure he wasn't dreaming it all up. They sped past the main lines and straight for the HQ. Master Chief headed off to continue fighting while Johnson and his men waited for debriefing.
"Take a break marines. We win this round, but next time it won't be so goddamn easy.
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