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The Forerunner: Chapter One
Posted By: Steele<hoffmansteele@hotmail.com>
Date: 21 March 2004, 4:47 AM
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The Forerunner: Chapter One
Corporal Timothy Ryan peered through his binoculars. What he saw sent icy-cold tendrils snaking through his gut. He scanned to the left, barely making out the fleeting glimpses of Covenant troops through the thick fog.
His squad—or what was left of it, anyway—were in a small ravine that overlooked a valley the size of a football field. In the valley had been where B platoon of Bravo Company (they had called themselves the BBs) had landed. It had required six Pelicans to off load the Marines and supplies, including the four APC-hogs and two standard jungle-camouflage Warthogs.
The route B platoon intended to take, however, had been too swampy for the Warthogs and the Marines had had to proceed on foot, where they had been ambushed and virtually wiped out. The Covenant had apparently decided to use this same spot as an LZ for their own troops; Ryan could see two Phantoms sitting on the ground, not to mention the smoking ruins of three Warthogs and the detachment left behind to guard the Marine's LZ.
He flicked the binoculars' mode over to IR mode and scanned the area again. He counted around four Elite-sized signatures, four Jackal-sized signatures, and about twenty Grunt signatures—a sizeable force.
Sliding back down the ravine, he surveyed his eight remaining Marines and informed them of the situation. "We're in luck," he whispered. "I do believe one of the two surviving Warthogs is the one with the Gauss Rifle mount. If we can sneak down, we can use the Rifle to take out one of the Phantoms and capture the other one and escape. What do ya'll think?"
A big Marine by the name of Herald Lincoln said, "Sounds good. Though I think that half of us should head for the 'hog, while the other half attempt to seize the Phantom." He lifted his MB6C Battle Rifle and flipped off the safety. "I'll take Esker, Smith, McHugh, and Peters. We'll sneak around to the opposite side and take the Phantom, while the rest of you all take that Gauss Rifle and light those Covies up."
Ryan thought for a second. He didn't like taking orders from Privates; he was a Corporal after all. But Lincoln's plan appeared to be sound; it wasn't like they had unlimited choices. "Alright," he finally said. "Go ahead and sneak around. We'll give you five minutes to get into position, then we're moving, so you better be ready."
Lincoln nodded, and his group turned and followed him off into the woods. Ryan gave a few quick orders to his three Marines then eased back over the ravine's lip, zooming in at their target. The Warthog was parked haphazardly in a ditch with its rear end facing the majority of the Covenant—a perfect position. The nearest Covenant were almost fifteen yards away, so if he was silent they could sneak up to the Warthog unnoticed.
He waited four minutes, then ordered his Marines forward, following closely behind. They didn't make a sound and they reached the Warthog undetected. PFC Horn quietly jumped in the Gauss Rifle mount and said, "Somebody turn on the 'hog; the Rifle's not drawing any power."
Ryan nodded and reached for the ignition. When that didn't work, he leaned over and looked at it, realizing why. Some dastardly Elite had put a Plasma Rifle bolt right in the ignition switch.
"Sir," a Marine next to him said, noticing the same thing. "I can hot-wire a 'hog, if you let me get where you are."
Ryan let the Marine get where he'd been and watched as the Marine set about his work, his hands elbow-deep into a mass of wires. Ryan briefly wondered where the Marine had learned such a talent, though he knew not to ask.
The Marine looked back over at Ryan and gave him a thumbs up, then touched two wires together. There was a spark and the Warthog roared to life, alerting the Covenant to the Marines' presence. Immediately two Plasma bolts slammed into the side of the Warthog and Ryan jumped in the driver's seat and threw the 'hog in reverse as Horn opened up with the Gauss Rifle.
The Warthog slowly pulled itself out of the ditch and he whipped it around and headed straight for the targeted Phantom. Multiple Gauss Rifle bolts slammed into it; tearing great gouges in its armor and melting its engine. The leading support strut gave away and heeled over, sinking nose first into the mucky ground.
A couple more Gauss rounds later, the Phantom started to smoke and Ryan considered it out of commission. He then whipped the 'hog around to engage the Covenant. Plasma bolts slammed into the side of the jeep, superheating armor but leaving the Marine's unscathed. Apparently the Covenant were having a hard time hitting fast moving targets.
PFC Horn spun the Gauss Rifle Mount around, wiping the Covenant out. When the heavy shots hit an Elite, they immediately overloaded the shield and turned the alien into a smoking ruin.
But even with the Gauss Rifle and the Warthog, the Covenant had too many soldiers and the majority of them were battle-hardened, not panicking and taking cover. Ryan knew that it wouldn't be too long before the pure volume of fire would take them out. He slammed the brakes and cranked the wheel around, causing the Warthog's rear end to fishtail and crush a Jackal, covering the Warthog's side in purple ichor.
Suddenly the gun on the remaining Phantom opened up, not at Ryan and the Warthog, but at the Covenant who were dug in. The heavy Plasma scorched the ground and melted the Covenant. It was over quickly—the Covenant couldn't withstand such firepower at close range.
Ryan parked the Warthog by the Phantom and immediately got out, his rifle at the ready in case there were any remaining Covenant. He was about to board the Phantom when Private Esker, who was standing at the boarding ramp, suddenly gave a shout of surprise and pointed behind Ryan.
Ryan spun and felt his guts go cold. Not too far away was a group of Covenant Shadows, approaching at full speed. He sprinted for the Phantom as fast as he could, his group of Marines right behind him. But before he could make it, the Phantom suddenly lurched and rose form the ground, its bay door closing. Esker waved goodbye.
The Phantom floated to the left, slamming into trees, before it accelerated skyward. Ryan stomped his foot in anger. "Those IDIOTS," he exploded. "They'll never make orbit."
Almost as if to prove his point, two Banshees dropped out of the sky behind the Phantom and trailed it for a few minutes, obviously radioing it. In perfect formation they both broke off and banked back around behind the Phantom. Two green blobs of Fuel-Rod energy slammed into the Phantom, disabling its shields.
Cobalt Plasma bolts pounded the Phantom, slowly crippling it. The Phantom's turret spun and spat a bolt of energy at the Banshees, but they dodged with ease. Suddenly one of the engines flamed out and the Phantom began the slow plummet back down to the ground, trailing smoke.
Ryan shook his head, still angry. Those idiots had stolen their escape vehicle and then wasted it on a premature escape attempt. But who should he blame? He was the one who had let Lincoln lead the team to take the Phantom. It was his fault as much as theirs.
"Corporal," PFC Horn shouted. "The Shadows."
Ryan turned and saw that the Shadows were getting quite close. He jumped back in the Warthog and slammed the accelerator down, barely giving the other Marines time to get in. Horn had already spun the Gauss Rifle, blasting one of the Shadows away in a cloud of fire and smoke. The other two sped up, covering the rough terrain with ease, and fired.
A Shade blast sizzled by, just missing Ryan, but scorching his face. The Warthog was bouncing up and down, throwing Horn's aim off so much, that he was having severe trouble hitting the Shadows. Plasma started to hit the ground around them and Ryan realized the Covenant were trying to melt the Warthog's tires.
He cut the wheel to the left and the Warthog leapt into a nearby stream. The wheels caught, throwing up gravel and water. The Shadows dipped in after him.
One of the Shadows turned too tight and its leading antigravity strut caught the ditch bank, causing it to completely swing around. As it slammed into the ditch, its armor crumpled and the Elite driving it was crushed.
The other Shadow almost flipped getting into the ditch, but managed to recover and didn't waste any time shooting at the Warthog again.
Ryan knew they couldn't keep this up. The road was too bumpy for Horn to get a good shot, but the Shadow merely glided along, as smooth as smooth could be. He got an idea.
"Hold, on!" He screamed.
Stomping on the brakes, he cranked the 'hog's steering wheel to the left. The Warthog responded by swinging around to face the remaining Shadow.
The Elite in the driver's seat gave an obvious look of surprise and jerked the Shadow away from the Warthog—right into a Gauss Rifle shot.
The blue-white energy bolt lanced straight into the Shadow's cockpit and turned it into a mass of torn metal and dying Covenant. Ryan sighed with relief—they'd almost gotten it, then.
"Ahh, Corporal? Turn around."
Ryan did so and almost jumped out of his seat in alarm. Behind the stopped Warthog were a trio of Ghosts with mean looking Elites at the wheel.
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