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The Covenant Invasion: Primal Confrontations
Posted By: Joshua Barreto (Infernal)<JRUNFIRE@YAHOO.COM>
Date: 2 June 2004, 11:15 PM
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The Landing
0455 Hours, September 23, 2552 (military calendar) UNSC Orbital Defense Platform Delta Gamma 223, in defense formation code: Fox-049-Bravo; Earth
Rear Admiral Amadeus knew the Super MAC guns on this platform couldn't go down. It held this position well against a strong force of several Supercarriers and short attack ships. The Covenant forces had another idea for this place, and the admiral wasn't going to let them express it.
UNSC High Command had been warned. Nobody knows where the intel came from, or by whom. But word spread like wildfire. The collective of alien races known as the Covenant, found Earth. The entire human race was at stake, and the population of the blue planet, on sanity's edge. This is it, the Rear Admiral
thought. This is the end.
"Give me firing solutions on silos A through D. Captain Davis, are you there?"
"-Yes admiral-"
"Have your crew warm the MAC guns ASAP. I need a couple of more rounds, our super missiles are clearing the Seraphs, but they aren't doing anything to this thing's shields."
"-Aye sir. MAC guns 4 and 5 at 85% readiness, 6 through 9 are hot-"
"Captain Lotus, fire your four guns now!"
The plasma scoured defense platform with its 12 Super MAC guns, jolted as four projectiles shot out its massive cannons. The 15 kilometer disc had massive, criss -crossing rings that rotated to keep a center of gravity. The guns stuck out of them like gigantic needles protruding from a ball of yarn. Around the defense platform were small mobile defense shields, cargo liners and sacrificial sattellites that attempted in blocking and nullifying Covenant weaponry. They did so with 60% efficiency, until they became molten hunks of debris, becoming dangerously sized metallic meteorites that impacted upon the hapless gun base.
"Lotus, report!"
"-Target hit sir, and hard. Its main weaponry has been disabled, and its hull integrity is at 45% and dropping rapidly sir-"
"Good shot, Captain." He looked at his tactical display screen and only swallowed. Where there once were six carriers, now stood a crescent formation of ten. "How're 4 and 5 Davis?"
"-Ready and firing sir!-"
The Covenant supercarrier, now spewing atmosphere and debris into space, took two more holes into the sixth bulbous starboard side section, which reached through several layers of decks. Electric blue flames ignited outward, sending it into a slow spiral into another sister vessel amidst the formation. She nosed into the other supercarrier's eighth bulbous section, over coming the force of its defense shields it crumpled inward, and broke deep into the hull. Blue-purple flames ignited both vessels if but for a second, before they both swelled and blew apart. The front half of the second carrier continued forward from the blast's momentum and careened into another ship. Flaming chunks of the two ships blew outward and caused several ships' shields to activate defensively.
The Orbital Defense Platform jolted over and over, its cannons sending their respective payloads to a quartet of vibrant colored craft. Shields flashed and disabled, cruisers swelled and blew apart, plasma torpedoes melted away sattellites and freight ships, and small explosions lit up from hundreds of Seraphs coming head on into super missile flak. This small section of space was alive with two forces engaging in the defense, or genocide of the other. The occasional reactor went off, and a nuclear bright glare would blind all eyes for thousands of kilometers around.
There were 30 Super MAC holding, Orbital Defense Platforms slowly but surely holding there place
in the defense against the Covenant. They steadily orbited the Earth, trying to nullify the Covenant juggernaut from wiping the human existence from the galaxy. But the highly advanced coalition of races were far stronger than the force seen at the Battle of Reach. A total of 700 ships appeared between the blue planet and Mars, and more came in by the hour. Some of them even took the time to glass the red planet.
"-Rear Admiral Amadeus, this is Vice Admiral Wolfhart; respond please-"
"Yes, I'm here sir."
"-Good. We need your guns at these coordinates. Our ships haven't been able to hold off the incoming forces there, and you're the nearest defensive option. I've already sent in a contingency of destroyers and carriers to deal with your situation. Come in guns hot son.-"
"Aye sir, I'll be there in ten minutes." He saw his destination, and 16 crescent shaped formations within 1000 kilometers of it. The human fleet there were being overwhelmed, and were already pulling back into another defense position. As he issued out orders, a hit the station took, shook the bridge and initiated red warning lights.
"Dammit!! Captain Gibaldi, the defense shields, where are they? Captain Tienus, fire those Titan super missiles and free floating Lance mines, we need a smoke screen. Captain Dasker, how're the gun batteries holding up?"
"-Defense shields have been destroyed sir, not one left, our sattellites are maneuvering as fast as possible, but there's too much incoming fire for them to block. I'm doing what I can sir-"
"Titan missiles away sir, we've made contact with numerous Seraphs sir, but the mines have been set with some of our tactical nukes for the bigger craft, so the point defense systems are going to have to take care of us on the move sir-"
"-Guns 6 through 9 have been disabled sir, guns 2, 3, 4, and 5 are hot and ready to fire. Guns 11 and 12 are at critical heat levels.-"
"Fire at will son!! I wanna take out some of these bastards before we leave." As he said those last words, a warning siren resounded throughout the gun base. A white blue glow lit the entire bridge, as the Admiral helplessly looked at the incoming plasma torpedo that crashed into the main viewport. In an instant, the entire command crew and bridge were sucked out into the vaccuum in space, as the plasma flash vaporized them into nothingness.
The lightly pulsating blue beams of light within Olahim's chamber quickly turned into a purplish red haze as his crew of 300 infiltration specializing Al'djurian warriors, finished gearing up and making their last rounds of preperation. The silver-black armored Elites climbed into individual landing pods, shiny, gray-colored 12 foot high cylindrical tubs within chutes that ran along the ventral part of the supercarrier like a network of veins.
"Al'djurian warriors, of the highest esteem, battle lies ahead; death awaits, only for the highly priveleged."
The communication earpieces resounded with the smooth, relaxing melodious ceremonial music that played before Al'djurian warriors went into battle. It seemed to have some underlying secret to calming the nerves of even the rookie fighters. It's said among their own, that the prophets of ages past came upon ancient relics that captured the musical voices sung by the gods, and reproduced it over and over to calm the unnerved and fearful.
As Olahim climbed into his pod, he gave a rising click of his mandibles, wishing some nearby comrades good luck. Some glowing symbols raced across his front display, detailing his mission. The pod encased itself around him, pressurized and came alive with life. Vibrations ensued as the low hum of energy gave way to a feeling of movement. The pods were now moving through the launch tubes enroute their exit vectors to the rear top section of the ship.
He touched several glowing knobs, opening up holopanels with vid-screens. One was the main camera from his ship, the supercarrier Sirenous Requiem; its numerous weapons turrets discharging their gaseous payloads to a couple of human vessels.
Blue-red plasma made contact and melted several layers of one ship, yellow-orange metal bent inward as the intense heat boiled through its sections. A Covenant ship's shields overloaded and flashed off as the purple craft swelled and blew apart in a series of explosions. Warning beacons blared as the ride in the chute was coming to an end.
Three hundred sparkling specks flew out in rapid succession off the top rear section of the sixth bulbous protrusion from the Sirenous Requiem. They looked like glitter spilled out in zero-gee against the blackness of space. Longswords engaged the helpless pods, shooting down as many as possible before taking on the escort forces of the Seraphs.
Olahim's pulse and heartbeat bagan to accelerate, as his pod shook him violently side to side. Various screams were heard over the com-frequency as explosions, random debris and Longsword rounds hit his fellow warriors.
"The Gods grant a fruitful afterlife to they that fulfill their mission..." The melody continued its calming rhythms. "As promised, he who ends the transgressors' contiuous pattern of sinful advents, will see his name inscribed across the heavens of Al'djuria, as said by the High Prophet of Translated Promises."
Olahim turned off the incoming musical transmission. He believed all this preaching was far mor suited for the monks, not warriors entering battle. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to soothe the growing tensions within his own mind. He was a skilled warrior, a veteran of many successful infiltration campaigns. But in this individual landing pod, he was nothing more than target practice.
As he continued to view the external cameras of his tub, a number of frantic, shrill screams came in from the command center of the Sirenous Requiem. At first, Olahim believed his ship to have finally been brought down. Upon careful examination, he could still see the ship, now over 10000 kilometers away, completely intact and still flying in space. Its engines were running fine, and the diagnostic readouts he pulled up showed everything was at 100%.
"Al'djurian warrior Olahim, by the gods, requests knowledge from the great ship, Sirenous Requiem. What has happened? I say once more..."
The frequency went dead with static. He continued to try and contact his superiors. All lines were dead. His already racing heart jumped suddenly with more fear. As he kept his incoming comm-traffic receiver open, numerous reports indicated an alien crew had taken the bridge of the vessel, and the commanders had been assassinated.
He put on his external cameras again, to see if his ship had moved. As his pod entered Earth's atmosphere, the intense heat interfered with the electronic components of his pod. Along with the snowy reception and violent rumblings, Olahim could not get a clear view of the Sirenous Requiem. The supercarrier faded into the blackness of space, and the random glare of the occasional reactor explosion. He hit another knob, that would record everything into a small crystalline cube. All he could do now was growl and curse the dishonorable usurpers. His mind told him it was the Hunters. Long had his kind warned the Prophets of their indifference to the Covenant hierarchy. Long had he been suspicious of their disloyalty among given Covenant units.
No, thinking on these matters would cloud his thoughts. He had to focus on the mission at hand. A holographic image floated into view. It was a heavily guarded human installation, which he and his crew were to infiltrate and destroy its defenses. This would allow an attack force of the Bauhl-geuls to enter and fulfill their mission. The humans called them Brutes. Suited them well, he thought. Their disgusting, ruthless behavior carried onto the battlefield, their sloppiness reflected in the mayhem and destruction inflicted on both human and Covenant.
A holopanel displayed a map of his landing zone. A human habitat named SIDD-NEE, full of their sinfully constructed cities. The thought of unworthy beings ever attempting to achieve a civilized existence was blasphemy. He felt his oneness closer to completion as he performed his noble duties. He lived to slay.
Like fireballs falling from the heavens, 200 or so landing pods entered Earth's atmosphere glowing white hot and some, ablaze. Their computer controlled thrusters, bursted at different intervals to compensate for speed and trajectory of each pod.
Olahim's vid-screens came alive once more, showing a vast expanse of blue. Still five kilometers up, the landing zone was brown, with some blotches of green. It was longer, and more softly triangular than he'd expected. The pod jolted violently, as it spun down toward the Earth. Olahim calmly held on, as he hit a few other keys.
His eyes widened with anger. The landing zone match-up was different. The map layout showed an error reading at the top while small red lights winked in the display. He pulled up another reading. A 3-D holographic display of the Sirenous Requiem's intended launch trajectory with a comparison of his. They were off by more than 15000 kilometers. No doubt it was the work of saboteurs. Whoever now commanded his ship, entered new destination coordinates for the entire landing infiltration force.
"Olahim, Al'djurian warrior, by the Gods, speaking with the landing team. Do you hear now my transmission?" Different voices responded affirmatively. Some began to ask questions, others began to argue. Confusion already set in, it was Olahim's job to clear everything up.
"Silence! Our landing vessels have been re-directed. I do not have knowledge as to the land nor the reasons as to why. Let me assure you, my brothers, that it is still the will of the Gods for us to land. If it were not, we would have perished upon our departure." He tried to hide the potentially enraging truth from his voice. "We are to land very soon. If the Gods did not intend for us to land here, so be it. We are Al'djurian warriors, and will slay the human filth no less!!"
Cheers went across all the frequencies, as his little speech of motivation worked his crew. As the warning beacons blared again, a private comm-channel was opened up from a close, well respected comrade, and old friend.
"Olahim, brother. This is Zorian who speaks now." He spoke clear cut, as if knowing of Olahim's false convocations. "I saw, of the ill-fated end of our ship. The commanders were assassinated, but not by Coven....."
Olahim didn't understand what he'd just said. He went for the comm-send knob when radar warnings pinged in.
"Zorian, I know not of what you speak, we shall have to be vigilant and wait. We have human flyers upon us."
Several human Skyhawks flew up to meet the falling intruders. They shot down 22 pods upon initial engagement. The thrusters from the silver, shiny pods flared with life, attempting evasive maneuvers in their falling flight. From the distance, it seemed like someone threw a handful of pebbles into the air, scattering upon the return, while being chased by numerous sparrows.
Olahim hit some manual override knobs, allowing him minimal movement and total control of his acceleration and deceleration. A pod was hit with a cluster bomb's shrapnel, igniting several energy coils and setting it alight with gaseous flames. A few seconds later, it blew up, sending shockwaves to 10 or so nearby pods. Olahim was one of them.
He made sure the nose was down, it was something his landing instructors constantly emphasized.
"Keep its nose pointed toward your intended landing zone, and no matter how chaotic heavens and clouds may be, by the Gods you shall indeed land and live to slay!"
Still, the speed and amount of force caused his pod to shake uncontrollably. Another nearby explosion caused debris to spray across the top and puncture small holes into the hull. The jolt put the pod into a rapidly spinning, helicopter seed descent.
A loud staccato of anti-aircraft fire was met with a rapid response of successive explosions. Olahim grimaced, as he saw the numbers of his landing force dwindling below 3 digit numbers. As the vid-screens popped on and off, he made out the area of his inevitable crash landing. There were mountains, tall, thick green foliage, and a deep ravine, like a crack within the green earth. A waterfall was at the far north end, which disappeared into the crack.
"Olahim, I must tell you....she was...." Zorian's voice was interrupted by random white noise and the metallic strain of the pod trying to overcome the g-forces."...human vessels...it was...I must....we were...
we must...."
"Zorian, your words are as thin as the air, hold until our landing!"
Zorian's voice was instantly cut off by a disturbing loud cracking sound, with the fire warning beacons blaring. Olahim saw his pod on one vid-screen, its midsection breaking apart and the top ablaze with purple-blue flames. It fell in a rapid spiral, leaving a trail of smoke and flames, as it came closer and closer to the tops of trees. He tried to say some last words and faded out as the pod broke through the top of the jungle.
Olahim tried to regain control out of the helicopter seed descent, but couldn't. As the pod's spinning speed increased, g-forces pulled him backwards against his seat-hold. One of the straps from his harness snapped, and popped back against his snout. He cursed as one of his many teeth fell out. The pull of the forces continued to play hell with him, until he could no longer think. His claws became numb, then his limbs, then his body. He felt pins and needles as he saw the trees grow taller and taller around him. Blackness overwhelmed and washed over him, sucking him into unconsciousness.
The pod crashed into the canopy, breaking through meters of thick trees and rotting vines. It caught several fresh vines and snapped them, making a loud cracking noise like several whips. The heat and friction charred a hole through the trees and even left few flames in its wake. As the pod finally hit the jungle floor, it spun on its nose like a top for a few seconds before bouncing off a mid-sized boulder and falling down another several hundred feet. It splashed down in a small but deep pool of water, ending its trip. The water sizzled and boiled as the pod cooled from a white-silver to an orange, red, then finally a burnt silver color. Steam rose from the pod, as it floated and bobbed in the small ripples it caused, silently whispering tales of a deadly creature soon to rise from its seemingly peaceful, shiny-gray coffin.
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