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Marine Rifles, CHAPTER 1
Posted By: Marine Black Ops<poop@hotmail.com>
Date: 11 October 2003, 4:34 PM
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1
Helleana IV
"The LZ looks clear. I'm bringing us down," The pilot of the Pelican dropship said over the COM channel.
"Roger that. We'll call in when we're ready for evac," Lieutenant Stentson replied.
The Pelican maneuvered down towards a flooded rice pattie field. So far, the area looked deserted. About two clicks south of here was the prosperous but rural town of Senco de Blanc. Satellite reconnaissance had shown that a huge Covenant army was massing in the hills west of town. By now the Covenant will know we're here, Stentson thought. Hopefully we'll be able to draw their attention away from the town, at least, that's the plan. Stentson smiled grimly. But how many times have they cooperated with us, he told himself.
He shifted his MA5B assault rifle in his hands as the dropship landed and opened up its rear hatches. He'd fought the Covenant many times before. He knew to call in air support when those Grunts hurled themselves at your position en masse. He knew that you had to flank the Jackals with energy shields, to take them out with snipers. He fought his battles by the book. And because of all this, the officers all had a high level of respect for him. He also knew that his platoon would go any and do anything for him. I should feel confident, he thought, but I just think this operation will be a failure.
"Alright Marines! Look alive! We're gonna blow this Covenant army off this planet! Now lets GO!!!" He shouted as the Pelican hit the ground and the UNSC Marine Corp deployed on Helleana IV.
" Watkins! Watch that Jackhammer!" Sergeant Avery Johnson shouted.
" Aye sir!" Private Watkins replied.
The 206th Marine Shock, Company A, continued its pre-planned course through a dense and slimy swamp. So far, they were being used as advanced scouts for the main UNSC assault force. They had encountered nothing but a few wandering Grunts in the knee high bog water.
"Why does it have to be so miserable here Sarge?" Corporal Fincher asked. A couple Marines laughed between each other.
"I don't have time for your lip soldier! Remember your duty: ours is not to question why, ours is but to do or die,"
"Yeah, then why----"
Johnson suddenly held up his hand, the signal to be quiet and listen. He thought he had seen something move in the thickets about 20 yards to his left. It might be just another scout squadron, but he wasn't taking any chances with such a dicey mission. He lifted his assault rifle to the ready position and trained it on the brush.
Something moved again. Johnson decided to play it safe. He turned his head slightly and made sure that his squad was ready.
"Halt!" he cried out, "Are you friend or foe?"
"Neither," a voice replied, "We're just some chopped up Marines,"
Johnson knew the speaker was Private Manuel Mendoza. Mendoza was sometimes put under Johnson's command, as he was usually below full strength. He and Mendoza had met on Reach about 2 years ago. They had both been in the same platoon for a while, until Johnson was put in charge of his own squad. They had decided to become friends because he was the only Mexican in the platoon, and Jordan had been the only African American.
"Show yourself! Or I'll be forced to shoot!" Johnson challenged.
"Alright, but promise you won't laugh," Mendoza said with a grim humor.
As the Marines stepped out of the brush, his instinct was to shoot. For what came out didn't look like Marines, but 3 slime and blood spattered creatures that vaguely looked like humans. He finally recognized Mendoza under his grime tan. Jordan was afraid to move, because if this was what the Covenant did to Mandoza's squad, he didn't want to know what they would do to his.
"Thank God you found us," Mendoza said wearily, "We thought we were cut off from the rest of the force,"
"What the hell happened to you? Where's the rest of your squad?" Johnson exclaimed.
" I'll tell you, but first, do you have any water? We were forced to leave many of our supplies behind when we fell back,"croaked Mendoza.
Private Samson offered her canteen and Mendoza drank eagerly. He downed half of the canteen, and after he had drank his fill and made sure his men had been seen to, he placed his map on a log and squatted down. Johnson hunkered down next to him.
"Okay," Mendoza began, "so, we were dropped at grid number 67 at 0400 this morning. We followed this road here, which took us to Carlos Creek," Mendoza traced their path with his finger, then indicating the creek. "That's when things got heavy. I was scouting the north end of the creek when all hell broke loose. I didn't have time for an exact count, but I estimate that there were at least 80 Covie units at that creek."
"Jesus," muttered Johnson, "80? So, what did you do?"
"What else could we do? Sgt. Anders ordered us to fall back, but we got lost in this damned swamp. Those little Grunt guys and their needle thingys... We'd been here for hours, until we found you guys. We'll, that's what happened to us. So, what do you suggest we do now Sarge?"
Johnson thought for a moment. He had 13 men with him, including Mendoza's guys. ' I might want to recon that creek,' he thought.
"Okay, here's what we're goin' to do. It's kind of odd that the Covenant would place that many troops in one area, isn't it? So we are going to check out, and only check out, Carlos Creek. Maybe we can provide some info for ONI ." Johnson instructed. It would keep them alive for awhile, and perhaps there would be a promotion in the offering.
"Damn it!" a trooper cried as a plasma bolt hit his armor and sizzled through it.
"Keep it hot over there Mendoza!" Johnson shouted.
The situation had not looked good ever since Sergeant Avery Johnson's patrol ran into a Covenant forward camp. The 13 men had managed to dodge a heavy engagement, but the bloodthirsty enemy had followed them into the brush. Johnson was trying to head in what he thought was the relative direction of Carlos Creek when he almost fell right in it.
"What is it Sarge? What---? Oh man, just keep up the fire Charlie!" Mendoza yelled into his radio.
"Mendoza, I think we just found Carlos Creek." Johnson whispered.
"What?!"
"Just get your ass up here marine." The tone in Johnson's voice indicated urgency, so Mendoza obeyed. In a minute he was at the Sergeant's side. They stared across the river.
"Oh shit."
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