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All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 13
Posted By: S7N<n.j.r.jones@brighton.ac.uk>
Date: 1 December 2003, 3:59 AM
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Section 3: Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars
Chapter 13
1200 Hours, August 14th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
United Nations Space Command Priority Transmission
09805I-62
Encryption Code: NONE
Public Key: file/orders 5769/
From: Lieutenant Peter L. McCasky, Commanding Officer, 2nd Platoon,
UNSC 81st Marine Corps/
(UNSC Service Number: 09562-46559- LM)
To: Sergeant Usaf Raynes, Alpha Squad Leader, 2nd Platoon,
UNSC 81st Marine Corps
Subject: Orders (plus a few commendations)
Classification: BEAT Directive (F.Y.E.O)
/start file/
Congrats on having the second best service record in the 81st, Sergeant, a ceremony is to be held after this weeks mission to Corona. In the two years of commanding Alpha Squad, you have lost only two men:
Private W Greggs (KIA, April 13, 2547)
Private J Deiton (KIA, December 25, 2548)
I understand a few of you men already have an array of medals (several purple hearts and a number of stars and ribbons), but the following men under your command (which I believe to be ALL of you men as accounted for) are to be award with the UNSC Award of Conduct, something which is pretty common among platoons, but NOT common for every single member of your unit to garnish one. Here's the list as I understand it:
Sergeant U Raynes (Commanding Officer, Alpha Squad)
Corporal S Harland (Second in Command, Alpha Squad)
Private First Class J Manors
Private Second Class D Harris
Private T Robson
Private G Taylor (Sniper)
Private S McCain (Demolitions)
Private K Walker (JH Operator)
Private S Fincher (Demolitions)
Private P Connor (JH Loader)
Private G Cochran
Private F Wilks
Private W Jackson (Demolitions)
Private D Hutchins
Well done, hope it doesn't go to your/their heads.
Now down to business
As you may well know, 2nd platoon, along with the rest of the 81st are going to Corona III, a large Colony world that has been tagged for attack by the Covenant. It will be a basic attack, with all platoons attacking the coast (where the Covenant are believed to take up defensive points). Not much can be said at the time, but you need to muster your men by 0800 hours, August 16th, at base of operations aboard the UNSC Carrier Pliskin. There you and your men will be briefed on what to expect and how to handle the situation, not that you need it. It will be a long flight, and we'll be in the freezers for the duration. Should be there by the end of the month, if there's anything left.
McCasky, out
/end file/
1100 Hours, August 16th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Carrier Pliskin, Epsilon Eridani System
Orbiting Reach
The briefing had been a boring and arduous one, the same old stuff, on the same old things. Nothing changed, apart from the planet. But Manny got the sneaking suspicion this was different. They had been told everything about Corona; temperature changes, water percentage, indigenous life forms, the usual. The Covenant had shown up, just as expected, a day earlier, decimating the biggest city. They had taken up base along the coast, and a huge number of ground-to-air plasma batteries meant an air assault by the UNSC was out of the question. Covenant troops numbered in the thousands, and since they couldn't land nearby, it meant the only other option would be a water assault.
The marines would be using light-armoured rigs to transport them onto the beach, then once they had cleared the main defence away, armoured support would be brought in. It would be then just a matter of taking out the ground-to-air cannons and allowing air support to move in.
But even though it all sounded very simple, it also sounded decidedly dangerous. There was a whole company in on this mission, totalling in more than two hundred troops. And the idea of a head-on assault reminded him of the distant wars of the 20th century, when Allied troops attacked the coasts of France in a bid to head of the Nazi attack of Europe.
But these were desperate times, and that called for desperate measures. It would be a tough battle, and for the first time in a long while he felt a little nervous. He rolled over in his bunk and threw an arm round the warm body lying next to him. Sarah replied by resting her head on his chest. They had an hour before they went in the freezers, a little down time they had earned from the last op.
The couple lay on Manny's bunk, which he'd been allocated when they came aboard. The room contained four beds, two on either side, one on top of the other, with locker space for their kit. Despite the fact that he outranked his three "room mates", he had been lumbered with the bottom bunk next to the door. But it didn't matter. They'd only be spending at the most two hours in the small rooms, and wouldn't be sleeping in them either; it was strictly for use before and after their duration in the cryo tubes.
Manny inhaled heavily, taking in the warm air. He did this before flights in stasis, seeing it as his final few moments before he stopped breathing entirely when in the pods. Sarah nuzzled his neck, kissing it lightly.
"You nervous?" she said, her voice soft and gentle.
"Little bit," he replied. He felt Sarah go tense a little. Before every mission she asked him if he was nervous or not, and his usually reply was that he wasn't in the slightest. But this time, he wasn't so sure. It had been two years since they first got together, and they hadn't spent more than a week away from each other. They knew each other better than they knew themselves, but that came with living, breathing, sleeping and eating together. The first few weeks had been great. They had fallen in love so easily. Then came the squabbles and petty arguments, despite going through several serious engagements with the Covenant.
Now all they felt for each other was true love, a bond that couldn't be broken, utter devotion. It was if they were the same person.
"That ain't good." Came the husky voice of Fincher who lay on the adjacent bunk. He lay on his side, with his back to them so it was impossible to tell if the man was being serious or not. "You ain't been nervous about a mission in two years. Not since Greggs died." A pang of sadness washed over Manny, the thought of Greggs dying in front of him coming back as if it had happened yesterday.
It also made him think about his brother. The moment they had stepped off of the Pelican and onto the ship home, Bradley was whisked away, and Manny hadn't seen him since. He had thought about sending word to his parents that Brad was still alive and well, but decided against it, just in case he had ONI to deal with. And that he did not want.
"This time is different." He said, his voice devoid of emotion.
"In what way?" another voice came into the mix. Harris was in the bunk above Manny. Since Greggs' death, he had become a different person. His arrogant persona, which had dulled a little during boot, had completely vanished. He focused solely on his duty, and gave a hundred and ten percent in what ever he did.
Manny didn't know which one he preferred, the old Harris or the new one. Either way, he was still a great warrior, and Manny was proud to have him at his side.
"I don't know, it just feels...different." Manny replied. He glanced over at the opposite bed, up at Fincher's bunkmate, Hutchins. The man had been Greggs' replacement two years ago. He was short with tousled brown hair, and a young face. When he came he had been scorned by the rest of the squad and told he would never live up to what Greggs was. But that couldn't have been more further from the truth. He had proved himself and more, as well as becoming fast friends with everyone. His sense of humour was matched only by his ability as a soldier.
The younger man looked back at Manny, half hanging out of his bed. "Different in what way?" his voice, although quiet, still carried.
"It just sounds weird that we're going in head on, like they used to in the old days, during the world wars back on Earth. I know it's the only option, but it just sounds like suicide." He rolled onto his belly and closed his eyes. "Let's just hope it's not."
Manny was suddenly aware that he was awake, and opened his eyes. They felt thick with gunk, and he had to blink to clear the fog that hovered in front of his vision. He took a deep breath, but found himself choking on the slime in his throat.
"Sit up, Private Manors," a soothing male voice echoed in his head. "Sit up, take a deep breath and cough. You have to regurgitate and swallow the protein complex." Manny did so, swinging his legs over the side of the form-fitting bed. He took another deep breath then retched, producing a long stream of liquid. He tried to hold some of it in, but failed miserably, and was left with a bitter taste of lemon in his mouth.
Glancing around, he saw the rest of his squad mates clambering out of their beds, retching as they did so. He caught Fincher's eye and winked at him. The other man gave him a sleepy smile.
"All military personnel are required to be combat ready by eleven-hundred hours. The time now is ten-thirty, on August thirtieth, twenty-five forty-nine, by the UNSC military calendar," the AI said, it's voice very matter-of-factly. The voice irritated Manny slightly, but then again, all military grade artificial intelligences did.
He fell in behind Tanya as they ambled towards the showers, ignoring Raynes' tirade of 'abuse' at them, telling them to "hurry up, maggots!" and "don't make me angry," They knew the drill, they'd been doing it since boot camp. But in a sense it did wake them up, as well as getting Raynes in a good mood; shouting at them now, meant not shouting at them later.
They quickly showered and kitted up, then double-timed it to the cantina for breakfast. There was plenty of banter around the tables as the different squads and platoons intermingled with each other. Manny and Harris sat themselves next to a group of boys from 1st platoon, and quickly got into the conversation about today's drop, swapping quips and jokes about each other's squads, or leaders. It was the usual stuff. The 81st, just like every other company, was a tight-nit bunch. There was always competition between the platoons, as well as the individual squads, but it was all humour. In a way it shielded them from what was about to come. In a few hours, the people that Manny chatted to now may not even be alive. Hell, he could be dead himself.
After they had finished their meals, the chatter died down a little. Harris peered over at Manny. Lighting a cigarette, Manny gave him a quizzical look.
"What's up?"
"You still nervous?" his voice was deadly serious now, compared to the voice he had used to tell McGuire from First that his mother was a whore. Manny stared at him for a while.
"Ask me that after we're back here." He smiled, but knew it was weaker than he wanted it to be. Without exchanging another word the two men got up from the table and prepared for the battle that was to come.
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