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Subit Sepulcrum Titan Ipsi- Ch.3
Posted By: Sage Scorpion<Awesomedudeman2004@yahoo.com>
Date: 26 April 2004, 2:30 PM
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0700 Zulu September 6, 2563
Planetary Headquarters Tacyon II
Firebase Alpha
Jack awoke from his sleep, two hours later than usual. 'Hhhmm. I could get used to this, no problem. No Covies, no dead bodies, no lying in a trench with your own shit...' His head ached like it had been a landing pad for a concrete slab, and he couldn't fathom why... Suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks: He had gotten piss-faced drunk on vodka and whiskey at the officers bar with Tony the night before, and had tried unsuccessfully to pick up some female NCOs from the administrative detail. Just at that moment, a female NCO climbed out from under his blankets, in the nude. 'Guess I was more successful than I thought. Not bad, boy. Not bad.'
"Uh, you want some coffee or something?" he asked, scratching his head awkwardly.
She just giggled and shook her head no, before climbing into his shower. Afterwards, she dressed and whisked herself of to her station. 'Well, at least there won't be any harassment charges against me. Huh, they couldn't punish me even if they wanted to. I'm too "valuable". Those poor enlisted bastards. They'll never know the joy of amnesty.' With that thought, he took a quick shower, threw on some cargo pants and a Helljumper T-shirt, black with the silver shuttle on it, and tight. He walked to a mirror and looked himself over. 'Eh, could be worse, boy. Gotta start workin out more, but other than that... ' He was lean and muscular, about 215 lbs., and relatively tall at 6'1''.
Five minutes later, he was at the Command Center, or CIC. He walked straight past the first armed MP checkpoint, but had to scan his I.D. disk to the second. This second checkpoint was guarded by a light .30 cal. machine gun and two MPs in a makeshift bunker. he was still new around here, and the guards didn't know him yet. When he finally arrived in the cool, dark building he was another two minutes late. He hoped and prayed that the CINC here wasn't a total prick, because he knew that it would make a huge difference in his squad's attitude, morale, and mentality in the coming storm. 'Hell, he didn't even know I was here for two whole days. Lord, if you love me, don't let him be incompetent. I'll take an efficient prick over a nice dumbass any day.'
He wasn't disappointed. Brigadier General Arwell was a combat veteran of 34 separate engagements, and was a weather-beaten, grizzled 52-year old hellraiser of a man, as well as a competent and beloved officer. He had fought on Sigma Octanus twice, Reach once, Earth twice, and a myriad of other systems whose names he had long forgotten. He had experienced death in many forms, on both ends of the spectrum. He knew what it was like having to send men and women he knew and loved to their deaths, and he threw no lives away uselessly.
He commanded the men and women of the 113th Marine Regulars Division. His unit was only about 2/3 of a normal Infantry Division, the norm being approximately 15,000 fighting troops, and a few thousand support troops. Arwell's forces numbered 10,140 combat troops, mainly infantry, with an independent armor battalion included. He had 3 brigades of 3,000 men each, containing 3 battalions each in turn. They were organized with 1 armored battalion, or tank heavy, and 2 mechanised infantry battalions, or APC heavy. Then there was the steel fist, the armor battalion, which was a very tank heavy unit, containing few infantry carriers.
The weapons and equipment they used were worn in, but still efficient and effective. There was the M23 Asp-II IFV, sporting two heavy machine guns, a 25mm cannon capable of firing HE-T (High Explosive-Tracer) and AP-T (Armor Piercing-Tracer) rounds at almost 300 rounds per second, and some newer models also had a 30mm bow rotary cannon. These vehicles were extremely effective at what they did, and they highlighted the Covenant's inability to make a similiar APC to compete with them.
The tanks used were M808 Scorpion Mk.-III MBTs, with the same coaxial 7.62 mm machine gun, but an entirely new main cannon and fire control system, complete with a laser range finder and several low-light vision systems. The cannon was a 120mm cannon, made of new alloys, which decreased barrel droop and increased muzzle velocity under high stress and temperature. Utilizing a brand new auto-laoding system, the Mk.-IIIs were able to fire about 6 rounds per minute under good circumstances, with enough speed and power to destroy almost anything they could hit on the ground with one well-placed shot. But, in turn, the Covenant MBT, the Specter, could do the same with it's high-powered pulse laser cannon.
To supplement this, there were several thousand M12 Warthog LRVs on the planet, configured as everything from Anti-Armor, to Air Defense/Suppression, to Ambulances to troop carriers, they did it all. Jack's unit rarely used any heavy vehicles or armor at all, but they were in love with the Warthog in all of it's guises, except for the Ambulance. If there was an Ambulance around, odds were, it wouldn't be for the company.
As Jack read through these figures on a console in the CIC, he was impressed. However, he knew that the Covenant could just as easily pour 50,000 troops down to the surface with heavy support and all the trappings of an invasion army in a few hours, and he would be powerless to stop them. He also knew that he and the Marines and Army troopers on this planet could kill every single one of the bastards, and it wouldn't even put a dent in the Covenant numbers. But, he had his orders, and he would follow them to the best of his ability.
Just as he was beginning to get depressed, Tony D' Angelo walked up behind him and popped him in the back of the head, with some force. Jack shoved him back, and punched him in the solar plexus.
"Urrghh, truce, okay? Bleedin' Irish...." Tony weezed and grumbled.
"Hey, you damn wop, you hit me first!" Jack cried, and shoved him lightly. However, Tony lost his balance, and fell over into a chair, which happened to be occupied. He got up, red-faced with laughter.
"Okay, now we're even," he panted. Then seeing Jack's expression, he followed his eyes to the console. After scanning it he said, "Hey, I know it looks bad, but we're not here to be easy on the Covenant. They started it, you know."
Jack chuckled at that. "You're an idiot, you know that?" he said.
"Yup. But you gotta put up with me. You don't have a choice."
"I could have you court martialed for assaulting an officer, you know. I am your superior, you ass."
Tony snorted with laughter. "Hah! I'm sure you would. And the High Prophet 'imself is gonna come down and say 'Tony D'Angelo, we tried, but we can't stand it nomore. You're so good looking, that we just had to come down and surrender. So please stop looking so good! Try looking more like Jack, he's-". He would have kept going, except Jack had punched him in the ribs, and he couldn't really breath. He was also beside himself with laughter.
"Hey you two! Stop wrecking my CIC!! You'll have it a pile of rubble if you keep crashing around here like a Grunt done got into a liquor ration, and you'll save the Covies a plasma torpedo! Cut it out, before I knock yore heads together!" Arwell said, half serious.
"Sorry General," Jack said, shaking hands, "Just easing the tension, sir."
"Don't worry about it," Arwell said, waving it off. "The troops' morale got a big boost when you got here. Before they sent you, they thought that no one cared. When you showed up, they figured somebody's gotta care some give a shit, to risk a whole company of super-elite troops. There's even six SPARTANs here with their leader, Master Chief Petty Officer Peter-347. Hhmmpphh," he grunted, "Must be their HQ detail, my guess."
"Hhhhmm. I wasn't briefed on them being here...." muttered Jack, puzzled.
"Hah! Neither was I! They just showed up! What was I gonna do, turn 'em away? Hell no! They're just as much as a help as you guys are, just we can't risk 'em as much. Not that we risk you too much, we just can't use them as versatily as we can you. First of all, they're irreplaceable 'til that new series hits the lines, and second of all, it's their leaders. It's the MC and all his officers and staff. He doesn't have the same views as FLEETCOM though, which is refreshing; all he ever wants to do is slaughter some Covies. If it's one thing I can't stand, it's an arrogant bastard. I met that last Master Chief of SPARTANs, his name was Paul or something, and he was an asshole. Always so condescending. He basically shit on everything we tried to do for him. We all hated him, so we loved it when he got his balls busted back down to Specialist for that whole corruption scandal. Huh, I thought they only cared for battle, not money or power.... Oh well, guess they messed up on him. But, I'm rambling, son. Your briefing will be at 0900 hours, in that room over there," he said, pointing to a small alcove leading to a room with a few chairs and an AI pedestal. Trash and wrappers littered the floor, and one of the chairs was lying on it's side, a leg rusted off. "Uh, we've been here for quite some time... with no new supplies except the basics, really. Hell, most of our ammunition is almost two years old. With you guys there was a sudden infusion of all the basic stuff we'd been wanting, except the non-combat aspects. Anyway, see you then. I got a crowd of newbies to orient to this planet's logistics supply, they're with the Quartermaster's Office. Huh, this promises to be boring as hell..... Nevermind me, go get some chow and be back here at 0900. Goodbye and good luck," he said, and walked over to lead a group of rather bookish, pale, and thin men over to a small table.
They began to argue about something, and Jack figured that he should go rouse the squad. This was shaping up to be a long day.
Author's Note: Sorry, another boring chapter. These first few installments will tend to be pretty devoid of action, because I have to set up my universe for you. The setting of this series is lightyears away from the known and accepted Halo universe, so I must descibe all the actions, history, and all the new stuff that I've thrown in. That stuff about the armored vehicles they used was probably annoying, but if I had just said "An Asp-II rolled down the hill and opened up with it's main gun" you would have been like: "What the hell is an Asp? There's no such thing!" Also, I know that it has been about 2 months since my last story went up. I have had the stories written up through Ch.6, but I just haven't thought to post them. You should probably go and refresh your memory by reading the whole series (all 3 parts) again. Thanks for your patience, hope you enjoyed it. Oh, and does anyone here know how to write all those spacial ranges that you were lecturing me about in the first 2. I intend to have some space combat later, so if you could zap me an e-mail telling me that you're willing, and I'll send you the distances I wanted to put in
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