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Part 3: What the dead tell me.
2536, March 10, Military calendar, Aboard Assault Cruiser Romulus; high orbit over planet Uripedes.
Scott had fought the covenant before, all of his Spartan family had. Scott was the only one who hated waiting before the mission though; he wanted to be on the ground with his rifle in hands, taking aim at elites and grunts. They knew the covenant had two crashed ships on this planet; their job was to secure the wreckage and remove any resistance that remained. This mission felt unreal to Scott, the ships had been gutted stem to stern by MAC guns from four different heavy cruisers. There wouldn't be anything left to salvage, still he followed orders. Looking up he saw John outlining the teams, Scott already knew he would be on Blue team, moving forward, crawling through the wreckage and doing recon. Uther was to his right, checking his rifle's scope alignment, satisfied he stowed his gear. "Our drop is in five, Red team, Blue team, Green team I want you loaded and ready to go two minutes ago." The Spartans snapped to attention and rushed from their ready room to the launch bay, Scott followed suit, and he wanted to be on that planet. There was a mission to fulfill, he had orders, and like it or not he was going to prove them all wrong about him.
The night sky was pinpricked with stars, the looming blue world before them filled the view screen as the three pelicans raced towards the atmosphere. "Five Five five, this is Deadbeat, we are on schedule to drop alpha zulu niner four." The warrant officer's gruff voice came over the broad band, another mistake Scott counted. In the pelican was blue team with him, the first to the closest LZ, the first to make visual contact. Errol had the lead, flanked by Colin, and Julia with the detonation packs, Scott listened to the banter of the pilots, hardened veterans or not they should have been quiet right now. If there were any covenant left alive down there in the wreckage they were going to know someone was coming for them. Their most hated enemies, Scott pulled the breech back on his rifle, feeling the smooth clean titanium action snap into place.
"Roger that command," the comm links in their helmets spoke to them, the pilot was nearing the wreckage, "alright blue team, we are at alpha zulu niner four! You have four clicks between one downed covenant war bird and your metal asses, hit the dirt boys because this is where you get off!" The warrant officer shouted with glee as the boarding doors slid open, five meters above the burned scarred ground below, dust and smoke swirling from the pelican's exhaust vents. "MOVE MOVE MOVE!" Scott heard Errol's hard voice echo through his comm., the Spartans already moving out, he acknowledged as he jumped from his seat and threw himself out of the landing craft.
The broken dirt clouded beneath his half ton frame as he landed in a crouch, green arrows in his HUD indicated the other Spartans on blue team. Errol's voice received orders, and he relayed John's words: "alright blue team, Scott you're with me thirty meter spread, eyes open, over lapping fire fields from the dirt. Julia, Colin keep a half click back and low, we want to deliver that ordinance intact." Scott knew without those demo packs there would be no easy entrance to the covenant wreck's more protected interior, or at least what survived of it.
Scott ran with Errol over the broken terrain, leaping the chasms and sliding down the hills, all the while keeping exactly thirty meters between him and his commanding officer, thermal readings from fly bys and the orbiting Romulus's scanners showed the plains to be devoid of life, but small movements around the primary wreck to have survivors. When they had landed the bulbous purple half shell of the covenant ship had barely seemed a small hill in the distance, but now it loomed over the craterous crevasse it had dragged into the planet. Though scarred and pockmarked, and clearly with a gaping whole dominating one side of the massive alien vessel, it still seemed largely intact. Errol saw them first and transferred the data to Scott, "contact, back me up, they're not injured in the least, four elites. Draw a bead and wipe them out Scott." His orders came through, Scott acknowledged, his transmission light winked at him in his HUD as he raced up the slope.
Scott's body slammed into the ground, and he reached behind him to the under slung sniper rifle. On his belly, his hands snapped the supports out from under the long barrel, his HUD linked with the rifle's high magnification scopes. Amid the billowing smoke coming from the downwind purple hulk blue plasma flashes flared, the scope zoomed in, and Scott searched the origins of the blast, switching to his thermal optic scope he could see the plasma rifles overheating, and the white outlines of the Elites brandishing them.
Scott drew a bead and let loose with two shots, the first white outline of an Elite fell. Two more cracks from his rifle and another down, Errol's acknowledgement light winked on, two more from Julia and Colin. Scott had stopped to reload when suddenly hiss motion tracker warning flared; he spun on to his back bringing the rifle to the air barely in time to see the blurring blue plasma blade slice down where his head had been a moment before. He fired blindly towards the nothingness of a camouflaged alien, hitting nothing, the blade arced again towards him, but Scott anticipated the move and rolled away, snapping his body to his feet.
The HUD's thermal scope wasn't reading right, only the plasma blade was showing, but now Scot could see his assailant's proximity, and he was on his feet. Without seeing the Elite's feet though, he had no way of knowing where the next arc of the blade would go, this was not a hand to hand scenario he could win, the clip of the rifle was empty, it would take him precisely three seconds to bring his assault rifle to bear and switch off the safety, and given the speed of the camouflaged Elite, that would be enough time to close and sever the rifle from his hands.
Scott backpedaled quickly, his hand moving to his side, the elite was charging fast upon him. Five meters, the blade was cocked for a high downward slash. Four meters, Scott's hand upon the hilt of the combat knife concealed on the small of the back of his armor. The catch release ejected the blade to his hand. Three meters, it would be less then two seconds. Two meters, Scott threw himself backwards onto his back. One meter, the blade was slashing down upon him, its residual electromagnetic pulse causing a slight distortion in his HUD.
The blackened titanium blade whipped up into the air, the alien was slicing for his head in a lightning fast arc. Scott's own blade however, slashed into the unprotected hilt of the plasma blade, the unshielded hand was sliced cleanly through as well as the plasma blade's generator, power supply and all. The blade instantly faded and the invisible alien, not able to react to the sudden change fell upon him, over come by his own motion. Scott felt the bleeding stump of the alien's hand impact upon his chest, his free arm came up and an augmented metal fist landed upon the alien's throat, his camouflage generator was failing now, and with a frustrating last gasp it gave up on bending the light wave lengths around the red armored Covenant Elite.
The Covent flew upwards clutching its neck, fleeting gurgling gasps escaping his split jaw. Its eyes were enflamed with surprise and fury, Scott didn't care to wait anymore, his comm. to Errol was undoubtedly filled with orders and requests, the others would be regrouping without him. The alien was on its hind quarters, bleeding, Scott snap rolled himself to his feet, and buried the knife to the hilt into the creature's face. Remorseless Scott scanned the surroundings, no other threats on his motion detector. The purple behemoth still loomed to the north. Plasma fire to the north east indicated the remained of blue team assailing the highest ridge, their best path to the alien hull perched upon the broken ground.
Retrieving his sniper rifle and cueing the scope to the action he saw them there, Errol covering Colin and Julia. Julia was spraying a team of jackals with automatic weapons fire, she was carrying a heavier machine gun, belt fed from a massive ammo drum on her back. Scott hadn't noticed her arsenal in the pelican, he surprised himself that he had omitted that detail, four elites were unloading their plasma weapons upon Colin's position, his hard cover nothing more than a blackened sandstone boulder. Scott was already running, leaping between the chasms wrought upon the land.
Scott switched to his assault rifle, he had twenty more meters between him and the rest of blue team, and now he was flanking the covenant. Ten grunts, sixteen jackals, four elites. The odds were bad for them against the shielded alien troops, the first of four grunts were now in range, oblivious to his presence. Four three round bursts fired, the twelve rounds embedded themselves into grunts. Two fell to the bullet rounds, the remainders exploded as their breathing apparatuses were severed and ignited. Balls of blue flame emitted from their corpses alerting the covenant to Scott's closing. The grunts scattered, ducking for cover as his assault rifle passed over them. His better targets were the jackals, with their energy shields to Julia's machine gun.
Errol was igniting an Elite's shields with his sniper rifle, within a second the large alien fell spewing a purple ichors from its chest. The other elites were focusing on Colin, but one turned in time to see its comrade die, shouting in an alien tongue. The blue plasma raced from its plasma rifle towards Errol, who could only try to duck backwards in time. He wasn't fast enough though, the first shot took his plasma rifle, melting and fusing it, its chamber bubbled as the rounds exploded, spraying Errol's armor with the molten steel of the weapon. Errol was thrown back, his chest plate and arm smoldering.
Scott's assault rifle barked its deadly payload into the backs of the jackals just as he saw Errol's weapon explode in his hands. In his HUD all of the squad lights were blinking, radioing messages to John, to red team, to any who would listen. Three of the jackals were dead; soon the covered grunts would poke their heads out and start shooting their plasma pistols. Scott ran straight through the fray, dropping two grenades, a meter apart. Between him and the elites were a pair of grunts, Scott swatted them out of the way as the concussion from the grenades erupted behind him. He was less than nine meters from the elites, and the one that had shot Errol was furiously bringing his weapon to Scott's fore.
The weapon's deadly charges raced in the air but went wild, Scott weaved leaping to the side and shooting four three round bursts. The counter on his rifle was getting low, eight rounds remained, and the alien's blue blur around him told of his shield's remaining strength. Suddenly the alien's weapon stopped dead, its glowing green fangs turning blue, the weapon expanded and split, releasing superheated gas. Scott continued racing towards the alien and brought his gun's butt upon the creature.
The Elite's forearm deflected the weapon in a circling motion, dropping the overheated plasma rifle and seizing the Spartan with a powerful clawed hand. The grip felt like steel, even through the plate of his MJOLNIR armor, the alien was smart; Scott was encumbered and had but one free hand. It shouted in an alien tongue and quickly pivoted using its weight to swing Scott off balance to his right. Then Scott saw them, the other Elites were turning from Colin to unload their plasma rifles into him point blank. His mind shut down, and he watched himself tear into the Elite holding him, his strength augmented by the suit as his hand shot up from its attempt to brace himself away from the Elite, to the Elite's throat, his grip was strong and nearly collapsed the neck of the blue armored foe. The alien's eyes bulged and its shield crackled stressing but not being able to resist the small focused pressure of his hand. The Elite felt the constricting pressure on his neck, even through his now failing energy shield.
The Elites to his back had their guns trained on the falling SPARTAN, but Scott was falling with an accomplice now, hitting the ground with a mighty thud from his half ton mass and the weight of the Elite on top of him. The plasma fire leapt from their rifles into the Elite's shielded back, one blue blur exploded on the ground next to this head, the move had bought him a second, but now he was on his back, encumbered by a rifle and a body, without a free hand. His adrenalin pumped, and anger flowed in him, defiance hatred, his whole life was there in his mind.
Scott saw purple blood spray everywhere though, as his anger took him over. The Elites were cut down in a hail of gun fire. Three explosions shook his armor and his motion tracker went hay wire. He pushed the body of the elite off himself and rolled to his stomach, quickly trying to assess the situation, his gun was facing forward, eight rounds still in the chamber. Everything was going slower now, and with gritted teeth he pushed up off the ground, the Elites bodies were just now hitting the ground one of the plasma rifles looked like a blackened exploded boiler, his body was scorched and bleeding.
Alien bodies were everywhere; Julia looked at Scott her heavy machine gun's three barrels still spinning, smoke rising from the weapon's chamber. Errol was on his feet, two pistols in hand, blackened oblong streaks of cooling steel pockmarked his dark olive green armor. He was breathing heavily, and Scott thought he saw blood oozing from the joint of is arm. "Status CO?" Scott asked on the comm. channel to Errol.
"Resistance neutralized, Red Team is coming in on our vector, they encountered a similar patrol, John slaughtered them all." Errol replied, his comm. light blinking on Scott's HUD.
Scott turned to the slope of the ridge going up to the hull of the crashed Covenant ship. Intel streamed into his HUD again, translation software decrypted the information. "Downed alien craft designated Silence of Fate." Julia spoke over the team comm. link. "Eta formations, Colin, bring the detonation packs; look for the hatch they came out of, Scott guard his rear, Julia, and you're with me we're holding this bit of dirt until Red team meets up here."
Scott charged up the ridge and found a three meter gap between the ship and the end of the tortured sandstone that supported their weight. He leapt to the hull and began running towards the bubbled purple hatch that lay before him. Colin's massive thump behind him signified his arrival. "You see it?" Scott asked over the comm., scanning with his rifle, his adrenalin was subsiding. His ammo counter was low; he ejected the clip and slammed a new one in place.
"I see it." Colin's hard baritone echoed in his helmet. The larger SPARTAN ran passed Scott, the pack of explosives slung over his shoulder, his assault rifle tracing patterns across the hull. "If there are more contacts in the ship, they'll know we're coming through this hatch. Primary entrance and exit protocol." Scott stopped over the hatch catching up to Colin, turning a full three hundred and sixty degrees around the ship, back to his squad member who had already begun to extricate the explosive devices from the long black bag.
"Solutions?" Colin asked looking up at him.
"Detonate somewhere else. Find alternative entrance. Find alternative breeching method." Scott said absent mindedly taking note of his ammo count on his belt, his two grenades, pistol with two clips, one slightly bent titanium knife, one more clip armor piercing rounds, one empty sniper rifle, two rounds without a clip to load them in. Things were looking grim, they needed another solution.
"Errol, where is red team?" Scott radioed his squad leader.
"ETA three minutes." Errol replied.
"Any heat down there?" Scott asked.
"Nothing, it's quiet, we've set up make shift hardcover. What's your breech status?" Errol sounded short of breath, plasma burns were rough, but the SPARTAN wouldn't forget his mission or his team.
"Negative breech," Scott said, an angry snarl curling around his face, there was too much uncertainty here, but they had a job to do. He looked to Colin who had placed the charges, and doing something he knew he shouldn't, nodded to his teammate. Ten seconds later, the ship shook with a dull thud as the alien metal sheered from the force of the shaped charges planted around it. Scott peered in, there was nothing to fear inside, everything that was still alive, he'd kill. He and Colin dropped into the darkness of the ruined frigate, his mind racing, his heart pounding, his assault rifle spitting its deadly barbs into the aliens that remained. He had orders. Neutralize the covenant on this dead hulk, whether he liked it or not. He liked it.
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