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Birthright-Part 1
Posted By: the_master_grunt<warthog_jump@yahoo.com.sg>
Date: 10 June 2005, 5:45 AM
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The Master Chief tapped a pad on the side of his gauntlet, and his visions in a roughly circular field of his
HUD jumped up by two times as the MJOLNIR Mark VII armor's in-built binoculars were activated. In the distance,
he could see several specks scurrying through the marshy land. The Covenant scouts were careless- they made no
attempt to hide their trail, rather, they splashed through the mud with the air of those who thought themselves
invincible. The Chief ached to just grab something, anything, and just shoot them; if it could not be fired,
then it could be thrown- casual observation had never been his strong point. However, Spartans had to be
patient- if you just charged onto the killing field, you'd be shot in seconds. Besides, it was against his orders
to just alert the enemy to the Human presence.
"Chief, how is it?" Admiral Decker asked. The Chief turned to look at him.
"Not good. The advance party is already here. With about thirty scouts, and going by recon and standard Covenant
deployment formation, that makes for an oncoming assault force of about a hundred and seventy." The Chief turned
in the small observation tower the humans had built, to look at the fort on a small hillock. It was designated
Alpha Base. By all standards, it was primitive. Made out of wood and literally kept together by spit, luck and
prayers, it wouldn't hold for long against a Covenant siege.
"Sound the alarm." The admiral said considerably calmly, considering the situation they were in. The Humans had
discovered the Covenant's arms factories, and were out for blood. Unexpected, however, was the Covenant's quick
and unnervingly powerful reaction to the intrusion. The Maple Fire had been brought down just shy of orbit by a
powerful long-range plasma cannon of some kind. Luckily, the crew had jettisoned the in escape pods to land and
establish their base. They had got their own back, too-the Fire had crashed just shy of a Covenant military base, and the shock waves from the impact had seriously damaged the installation. Striking quickly, the Humans had seized a shipment of arms and fled into the swamp, and now the Covenant was preparing to attack.
Around Alpha Base, UNSC Marines scrambled to defensive positions. A number of Scorpion MBTs rolled up,
ready for battle. Warthogs gunned forward, at the ready. Snipers and rocket jockeys were holding defensive
positions in towers and on the ground. Now all they had to do was wait.
They waited in complete silence for thirty minutes. Then, the first line of Covenant troops appeared from the
gloom. They were Jackals, accompanied by a Wraith mortar tank.
"Fire at will!" The admiral yelled into the comm system.
All around the perimeter, machine-gun turrets blazed to life. The muzzle flash blinded and shocked most of the
troops as the high-caliber rounds hammered alien flesh. Powerful bullets skewered the mortar tank. In milliseconds, a burst of plasma fire spouted from the tank, and it jerked sideways violently as though an invisible hand was shaking it apart. The out-of-control tank smashed through several trees and crushed a company of grunts under its considerable mass.
It didn't take long for the Jackal infantry to recover, and they quickly returned fire with plasma pistols.
Green energy bolts pelted the defenders as they withdrew.
How unfortunate that the Covenant Brutes chose that moment to break ranks and charge individually. Separated from the rest, they made easy targets, and soon began falling.
The Chief steadied the S3-AM Sniper's rifle on his shoulder.
It was more powerful and faster than its predecessor, the S2-AM, and did not leave bullet trails
for the enemy to trace. All of a sudden, he heard a terrible screeching noise, and looked up to see a flock of
Covenant Banshees flying through the trees. They were at a disadvantage, as the tall trees limited their
movement, and so were forced to group together. The chief allowed himself a small smile as he grabbed one
of the many weapons lying in the tower-a rocket launcher. He took careful aim, and fired.
The Jackal named Kun looked upwards in shock and fear. He caught a glimpse of the human projectile
flashing along the sky towards his air cover. Then, the primitive missile exploded in the flock of Banshees.
The explosion put half the Banshees out of action immediately. Of the survivors, several were mortally injured,
and crashed into trees in seconds. There were lucky ones, however, and they immediately screeched forward at
the tower from which the rocket had been fired, spitting plasma at the treacherous Humans as they went. Kun
looked fearfully through the gap in his plasma shield at the tower, and saw a lone Human clad in some strange
green armor within it. The strafing Banshees sped forward, eager to kill. That was when a second rocket roared
out of the tower and blew the Banshee of Air Master Hargarus out of the sky. Kun ducked as shrapnel fell
around him. He decided, rather than take part in a battle against such a fearsome enemy, to just pretend he was
dead. Then maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance to live, and make it back to base after this madness was
over.
"This is Admiral Decker to all Pelican pilots. Evacuate all non-essential personnel and equipment.
Repeat, this is a priority One order. Break off all engagements and evacuate all non-essential personnel to
the Beta Base-where the good men of the Fury have set up camp. Decker over and out." The admiral was making
preparations to evacuate Alpha Base. Given the Humans' firepower compared to the size of the attacking force,
it was reasonably safe to assume that the base could not withstand the assault for long.
The Master Chief hit the ground and ran straight for the makeshift armory. He quickly selected a Battle rifle
and two SMGs. He hefted the rifle into a holding slot on the armor of his right thigh, strapped an M7D pistol
into a holster and loaded the SMGs. He also appropriated a small number of fragmentation grenades and took a
captured Covenant Plasma Rifle for good measure. It was a killing ground out there, and it would greatly
increase his chances of survival if he was, so to speak, armed to the teeth. Dual-wielding the SMGs, he stepped
out of the small bunker and into the mud of the swamp.
A trio of Brutes were roaring and flailing at the wooden door of a storehouse. They would break through in
seconds, and then the rest of the assault force would follow. There was just one problem, however,
and that was that the Chief was in a position to flank them. Moving quietly for a man two metres tall, the
Chief crept through the brackish water. He remembered from his last encounter that Brutes did not fare well
against Covenant Needlers, and so quickly pried one from the fingers of a dead Jackal. He checked its ammo
counter. It was low, way too low, and a wrecked and burning turret nearby suggested where most of the ammo
had gone to. With low ordnance and no cover, he would have to plan this skirmish carefully.
"What are you waiting for? Fool! It's just a portal! Bash it down!" Curatarus bellowed at the other two Jiralhanae.
"You imbecile!" The Jiralhanae named Gazmonus muttered. "No wonder the infidels call us Brutes, with Jiralhanae like you. If we bash through, the whole portal will fall onto our heads! Do you want that!? Better, I think, if we retreat a bit and blast it with our Carbines, or just let the Wraith take it."
Curatarus was about to say something involving his Carbine and Gazmonus's body cavities, when something struck him hard at the base of his neck, crushed the base of his skull, and broke both of his spines, leaving his inert body to crash to the ground.
The first part of the chief's plan had gone beautifully. The first Brute was dead, and the other two were stunned long enough for the Chief to exact the same treatment on the second. Now there was only one left, but it was mad. It ditched its carbine and roared as it leapt forward and bowled the Chief over. The chief rolled and came up into a crouch with his needler ready. The blow had done far less damage than it should have, as the soft and muddy ground had stopped the assailant from gathering up too much force for its attack. He fired, and a barrage of translucent purple needles arced straight at the Brute, peppering it. They stayed there for a second, and then went off in a huge pink explosion. The Brute roared in fury, but it was too late, and it was torn apart by the blast. The chief heaved a sigh and tossed the empty Needler to the ground. He checked his motion sensor, drew his pistol, spun, and shot the Jackal who had been creeping up on him from behind. The Jackal dropped as the slug tore its way through its skull and came out the other end, trailing bodily fluids behind it.
Even though he had come through without a scratch, the Chief still felt that something was wrong. The Covenant Jackal scouts were known to be very sharp, how could they have missed a few machine gun turrets? Then, he realized. He turned a hundred and eighty degrees and ran back to the tower. He had barely reached the structure when it began raining Phantoms.
Field Master Razarus was pleased. The battle was going well, all was going according to plan, and a promotion was in sight. The infidel defenses were already stretched to their limit, what with the sudden appearance of seven Phantoms over their base. Another attack to the west would surely crush them. The Council would be pleased. "What a fool," the Jiralhanae said out loud. "I must have overestimated the infidels. The infidel Field Master is not only a coward, but stupid to boot." His command crew was only too happy to concur. That was when a barrage of missiles ripped through the sky, targeted the first Phantom, blew it to bits, and wiped the smiles off their faces.
Lieutenant Wells' fire team had done their job well, the Chief had to admit. The Warthogs they were in charge of had been outfitted with two gunnery platforms, one LAAG and one AA missile barrel. The fifteen 'Hogs fired a second salvo at the descending dropships, even as pieces of the first one hit the ground all over a fifty-metre radius. The missles missed, however, and the dropships let loose their cargo. Brutes rained down into the camp, and started living up to their names.
The Chief scoped in on a veteran Brute who was carrying a Brute Shot. The grenade launcher would come in handy. The platoon of Brutes around him were firing and protecting him rather than running about, which identified his rank as an important personnel. The Chief lowered his rifle so the targeting reticle was sighted on the Brute's weapon. He took a deep breath, steadied the battle rifle, and fired. The rifle barked, and three bullets flew from the nozzle. In a split-second, the bullets had penetrated the highly-explosive grenades, and the resulting explosion decimated the small group. All of a sudden, a huge explosion forced the Chief to spin around, only to see that the Covenant Wraiths had breached the makeshift door. The huge blue behemoths-there were two of them- hurled cyan fireballs at the defenders. A Marine screamed as he disappeared from the waist down. The Chief was mad. He did not have the firepower to take two Wraiths down, but surely there had to be a way. Then, a powerful blow hit him from the back, and he toppled over the side of the tower into the waters below.
The Jiralhanae named Shazurus was amazed. He had not only managed to sneak up on the human, but had even managed to kill him! He would get a promotion for sure. Nobody could survive the thirty-foot drop. It had been worth the effort scaling the tower after all. He had been seriously debating with himself whether he should climb it: he was an inexperienced fighter, and this human had apparently even managed to take down honor guards! Lost in his fantasies, Shazurus peered over the edge, and fifteen pounds of lead, suddenly lodged in his head, showed him the way to paradise.
The Chief was still in shock. He should have noticed the enemy, should have been able to react faster. Still, the brute was dead. Half a magazine of an SMG will do that to an alien. Now to deal with the wraith. The Chief considered his options, a frontal assault would be useless, given the beast's thick armor, and he would be killed before he could get to one of the MBTs. Perhaps...ah, yes, that would work. Taking a deep breath, he raced out into the open, smashing in the skull of a Jackal as he went, and leapt onto the back of the first Wraith. He felt upwards, gained purchase, strained, and ripped off a plate of blue armor. He reached in with one hand, strangled the pilot Brute, and tossed the body into the marsh. He then jumped in, took a moment to look at the controls, and spun to face the second tank. He fired, and the sky-blue energy burst smashed against the side of the other tank, denting the plating. The tank spun, and the Chief heard a garbled language come over the comm system. He took no heed of it and fired again. This round ripped the tank open end from end, killing the Brute inside it.
The Chief's hemelt comm. system crackled as a message came in.
"Chief? Can you read me?"
"Sir, yes, sir!" the Chief said, while decimating a file of Jackals with a mortar round.
"Good to hear it. How's your side?" Admiral Decker's voice came in. It was gravelly and tired, and the Chief suspected that it was not good news.
"No developments, sir. The Covenant are pulling their forces out of the area. It seems that they are redirecting their forces for a strike from the west. Plus, from intel, we can gather that another wing of Banshees is coming in from the north." The Chief read off his intelligence screen.
"Thing's aren't looking good," the admiral sighed. "The Covenant landing forces are stronger than we expected. We have suffered thirty percent casualties and are pulling out. Repeat, we are retreating. Chief, I'm uploading the coordinates of the rendezvous point into your armor's system. Meanwhile, defend the base until evacuations of personnel and equipment is complete. The last thing we need now is for the Covies to capture vehicles, manpower and equipment."
"Yes, sir." The Chief grimaced as a plasma grenade detonated nearby. Coordinates scrolled across his sight of vision, as a three-Marine fire team rushed forward and cut down the attacking Brute with assault weapons. The chief jammed the controls, and the wraith lurched forward into a swarm of Brutes and Jackals. As expected, a brute leapt onto the tank from behind and tossed the chief out- but not before the Spartan had attached a plasma grenade at the point nearest to the fuselage. He sprinted twenty metres away-a hopefully safe distance from what was about to ensue-and heard the Brute's surprised yelp even at that distance. Instinctively, the Chief turned, saw the Brute attempt to leap out of the vehicle, and covered his eyes just as the grenade detonated. A swathe of cyan energy scythed through most of the Covenant ranks, and several equally devastating-if more spread out-secondary explosions, set off by the dead Brutes' plasma grenades, decimated the rest.
"A third of them are dead, half are wounded, and the rest are scared and'll need a change of pants soon," the Chief said over the comm. system. "Right, marines! Let's pull out!" Cheering and firing several farewells into the Covenant collective, the Marines ran off into the mist. The Chief paused to hoist himself up onto the gunnery platform of one of the Warthogs, and the driver wasted no time speeding them off to the rendezvous point.
"How many?" The Chief asked. The answer was all too plain, if general, and he had to admit-he was afraid of the answer.
The gunnery officer shook his head. "Sixty-five. I don't get it. How could this have happened?"
The group had arrived at the meeting place, only to find the ground littered with bodies-all of them wearing Marine green. What had happened here? The Spartan could only wonder. There was hope, however. One of the dead Marine's helmet camera had recorded the face of the Admiral, however, he was not part of the body count. If they could just find Decker, he might be able to tell them what had transpired here. Sixty-five dead. Two more were mortally injured, and unable to provide information.
"C'mon Marines! Let's go!" Lieutenant Wells roared over the sound of the rain. The somber group plodded away from the massacre, and into the fog.
END OF PART 1
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