 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
Concept Art
Halo Bulletins
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
ARG Forum
Links
Admin
Submissions
Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Clean Sweep by aussie_spartan
|
Clean Sweep 1
Date: 30 May 2008, 12:26 pm
I am aware that my work is not perfect. If you can see any errors (either factual or gramatical) please contact me so that I can fix them in upcoming chapters. Though, I think it fair to warn you that if I feel it pointless then nothing will change. First in a series I'm hoping on creating to get myself back into the swing of writing. Enjoy.
----------
>To open file press enter. To delete press delete.
>ENTER
>>... file opened. Scanning retina...
>>Comparing to registered database, please wait. Search complete, welcome Major.
>>NOTE: ALL information in this document is to be considered RESTRICTED to level Omega, failure to comply will result in immediate court marshal.
File start:
Operation: CLEAN SWEEP
Access Level: Omega
Access code: gf3w-8gtt-90hg-olmj
Receiver: Station 6, South Africa (1st Lt Tom Lucas)
Sender: Dog Company, 2nd Platoon, Red Squad leader (SSgt Glen Floury)
Recording location: Station 6
>Begin Transmission:
>>Receiver: Hello? D Company? Anyone respond.
>>Sender: ...Glen... respond... evac...
>>Receiver: You're breaking up; I need you to move somewhere I can get a stronger signal.
>>Sender: ... request... bombardment...
>>Receiver: There already is an artillery barrage hitting near your position as per your request. Would you like us to move the barrage to hit a different location?
>>Sender: ...hitting... repeat... our position...
>>Receiver: Jesus... are we hitting your position? (Off radio: Stop the fucking shelling! We're hitting our own guys!)
>>Sender: Negative! Hit... position.
>>Receiver: ... you want us to hit your position?
>>Sender: ...overrun... blast them!
>>Receiver: Negative, we cannot shell your position. We can send for another air strike if you want.
>>Sender: Negative, tree cover... thick... shell...
>>Receiver: We cannot shell your position. Please move somewhere I can hear you better.
>>Sender: ... is this better?
>>Receiver: Yes, thank God. What is your situation?
>>Sender: We have been completely overrun. Covenant are everywhere...get down! (Explosion) Suppressing fire! Suppressing fire! Just hit our position!
>>Receiver: Ok, artillery barrage on your position. What else do you need?
>>Sender: Ammo! Most of us are down to our last clips here! I've been nursing this clip for God only knows how long. And backup! I need some damn backup!
>>Receiver: Ok, one moment (pause). 1st Platoon is currently engaged elsewhere right now and 4th Platoon is only at half strength but 3rd Platoon is still a while from you. They are riding in on APC's now, how much longer can you hold out?
>>Sender: If they're not here in the next ten minutes... don't bother.
>End Transmission.
>Press Enter to Continue.
----------
THUMP! Another percussion grenade exploded into the enemy flanks stunning a few Grunts and a Brute. Glen jumped out of cover long enough to pop one of the grunts in the head and then ducked right back behind the tree he was using for cover. Although they tended to burn when hit by direct plasma fire they also tended to stop the spikes from the brutes weapons dead... but that was never a guarantee. The only reason that Staff Sergeant Glen Floury was hiding behind the tree was that all there wasn't anything else left to hide behind the Covenant had burnt everything else. The only thing that saved the trees was that there was so damn many of them.
"Filmore! Where the hell are you?" yelled Glen.
Filmore didn't answer at first and Glen was scared that he'd been hit without him noticing. With their corpsman already dead there wouldn't be much they could do but hold his hand while he died. There was nothing worse than watching a fellow marine die when there is nothing you can do to save them. However Filmore did answer eventually.
"When I know sir, you'll be the first person I tell."
Glen activated his microphone smiling. At least someone could keep up the humour in a situation like this.
"Red Squad, I need a sit rep."
As the other members of his squad called in Glen checked to see if anyone else had died since their last sit rep, then he winced when one more marine didn't call in. He then made contact with the other squad leaders and they exchanged figures. Glen did some quick sums and counted sixteen dead and five wounded, two of them looked like they'd die soon if they didn't get to a field hospital. Thinking back Glen remembered how this all started. They had been searching the jungle for any Covenant forces nearby. ONI satellites had reported Covenant dropships landing somewhere in these jungles and frankly no one wanted Covenant both on Station 6's front porch and back door so Dog Company was sent to hunt them down. It wasn't long before forward observers made contact with Covenant scout parties and the chase was on. For the first time in Glen's life his larger and more powerful force was chasing the weaker Covenant. It wasn't to last however as the scouting parties they were following lead them right into a ambush and soon Dog Company found themselves fighting for their lives in the sweltering heat. Glen should have known it wasn't fortune that allowed him to find the scouts but plain old bad luck. For three hours now they had been heavily engaged with the Covenant, unable to break away and becoming increasingly disorientated in the heavy jungle. In desperation they ordered an artillery barrage on the Covenant position to try and give them some cover under which they hoped to escape but this was not to be. The Covenant's ambush had been hastily organised and as a result their lines were intermingled with the human's which was good for them because it allowed them to score some easy kills with surrounded enemies but also prevented cohesive unit movement. Now Covenant and human forces wondered aimlessly through each other firing at anything that moved.
"For Christ sake!" Glen heard Staff Sergeant Potts yell over the radio "Are we being hit with our own damn artillery?"
"Well, well Potts. Isn't it nice of you to join our merry group again? And where the hell have you been all this time?" asked 2nd Lieutenant Crosshaw the highest ranking officer left.
The radio crackled twice before Potts responded. "Pinned down by the river. We tried to contact you but this damn jungle covering is too thick. All we got was static. Incidentally we can't contact 6 either and I was wondering if you can."
Crosshaw had to yell over gunfire on his end to be heard "We can't either but apparently Florey can. He must have better elevation than we do."
There was a brief pause in radio traffic while each speaker opened fire except Glen. He was out of ammunition for his assault rifle and he had lost his pistol in the mad scramble to reach the top of the hill before the Covenant so Glen now relied solely on his squad to cover him. Glen would have taken some ammunition from one of his soldiers but they had none to spare either and he did not want to put any of them out. At least he could be useful on the radio if he couldn't shoot.
Finally Potts said something "Glen, where the hell are you? I'd like to meet up and combine firepower."
"I'd tell you where I was if I knew." Glen yelled into the microphone, trying to be heard over the gunfire.
"But you don't." Potts finished the sentence for him "Well this is just great. Now what the hell are we going to do?"
THUMP! Another percussion grenade went off, this time too near Glen. Everything went white and all Glen could hear was a high pitched whine. Glen stumbled out into the open and quickly tried to get his bearings before he was shot. Suddenly his chest grew very hot and he felt a jab in his back as if someone had walked up behind him and jabbed him hard. At first the disorientation prevented Glen from establishing what it was but as the heat seared up his neck Glen realised he'd been hit with an overcharged plasma bolt. Glen tried to yell that he was hit but all that came out of his mouth was a hoarse moan. Glen collapsed.
----------
Jun watched the human fall to the ground. Part of his back plate had melted away where his plasma bolt had hit it and Jun could see a small fire starting. Before he could finish the job and fell the downed alien another of the monstrosities leapt out from cover and fired his way. While Jun cowered behind a rock to avoid an early grave the human dragged his fallen comrade away and deprived Jun of his kill. Not that this bothered Jun too much anyway. He had seen what a plasma pistols overcharge could do to human flesh and knew that the alien was dead anyway, maybe not yet but at least he would bleed out. Taking comfort in that Jun exposed his head and tried to find another target.
"Get back to the Warchief and tell him we need more soldiers!" a Jiralhanae somewhere roared at Jun.
Only too happy to oblige and leave the chaotic battlefield Jun stepped lively and ran back in the direction of HQ. Although Jun was happy to know he would be leaving the battle for now he also knew better than to let his guard down, this was for two reasons. The first one being that the aliens and their lines were too intermingled for anywhere to be safe, there was every possibility that a human was hiding right behind the next bush. The second being that after he had gathered reinforcements they would most likely send Jun to lead them to the hill and that meant rejoining the battle. As he waddled towards HQ an explosion shook Jun to his core and sent dirt piling on top of his head. Once the ringing had stopped Jun did a quick body check, head, torso, legs and arms (Jun knew it was unlikely he'd not realise losing them yet but it's better to be safe than sorry), then continued on his way. This was why they needed to take down the aliens on the hill. To stop them from communicating with the other aliens who were raining down this hatred upon them. Something Jun could fully understand. He wanted to stop worrying about dying at any given moment from an unseen enemy as much as any of the Jiralhanae did. Jun stopped for a moment to catch his breath. The massive tank on his back did not easily allow for speed, fighting, agility, flexibility or anything else that might be of use in combat but it did keep him alive with a healthy stream of methane. Something which made Jun very grateful at times and at other times very irritated. This was one of the irritated times. Finally Jun did make it back to the HQ and asked to see the Warchief.
"I have an important message for the Warchief!" Jun squeaked.
A muscular Jiralhanae warrior regarded him coldly "Wait here Unggoy while I see if the Warchief is too busy for the likes of you."
After waited what seemed an eternity Jun was told he would have to wait more before the Warchief would see him as he was too busy planning a new mode of attack against the humans. Although Jun knew his message was important for this he also knew how stupid it would be for him to interrupt the Warchief.
"The Warchief will see you now. This had better be important." Said a rather gruff looking Jiralhanae with a nasty scar scratched across his cheek.
While walking past the massive hulk Jun tried not to stare at the scar but, failing, he received blow to the back of the head while he past for his lack of restraint. Finally he was standing before the Warchief when suddenly he realised how much smarter it would have been to instead just give one of the Jiralhanae the message to pass on. Silently cursing himself Jun waited for the Warchief to speak. His iridescent golden armour sparkled in what light made it through the tree canopy overhead but the many blood stains ruined any beauty that the armour might have held otherwise. Through not nearly as much as the beast inside the armour did.
With a mouth that looked like it was stuck in a perpetual sneer the Warchief cried "Who is this pathetic creature with a message for me? This had better be of the utmost importance."
A thousand thoughts raced through Jun's mind all at once. He wondered if there was any way he could make his message sound important enough over the din of distance weapons clattering to make the Warchief spare his life. Realising there probably wasn't Jun started planning his own funeral and wondered if his mother would be there to see it. Jun wondered if the Warchief would leave enough left to see. This and a million other thoughts had all travelled through Jun's mind long before he heard the distant whine of an incoming mortar round. When he did hear it however only one last through went through Jun's mind before his body was blown into pieces was: 'I wonder what it's like back home right now?'
The mortar round crashed right into the middle of the Covenant HQ before anyone was able to react. The round killed off most of the Jiralhanae leadership including the Warchief instantly. Many others were left to bleed from shrapnel wounds.
----------
Specialist Alex Cornet loaded another of the massive rounds into the mortar gun and yelled coordinates to the man adjusting the angle. Alex knew she and the others were firing on friendly positions and they knew that they were killing friendlies. All she could hope for was that they were hitting more enemies than friendlies. She shrugged.
"Friendly fire's a bitch and so am I." She said to a laughing crew as another round tore through the air.
----------
"Frig! What was that!" yelled LCPL Joseph Light as an explosion tore into the ground in front of their APC's.
"Just a mortar round. One of ours." Replied 1st Lt David Scully, a hint of annoyance in his otherwise professional voice.
"How do you know it's one of ours?" Light asked.
Scully raised his eyebrows and didn't answer. Eventually someone in another APC yelled through the radio "'Cause it missed!"
This got a few chuckles out of the soldiers but the tension remained just as strong as it had been before. They were going into battle. Their comrades, soldiers they had fought and died with were in peril and they were their only hope. Lt Scully remained completely silent throughout the trip. He knew they were going into the known. There was very little Station 6 could tell them about 2nd Platoon's plight save that they were in a desperate situation, being shelled by friendlies and low on everything. Scully's mind began to wonder towards the massive metal creatures carrying them in. They would have to dismount from the APC's once the terrain became too dense, and it would, for the large and unwieldy vehicles to move through. Scully would have preferred warthog's to carry his troops in such an environment due to their ability to fit and fight in tight spaces but the ATV's could only hold so many troops and frankly Station 6 didn't have enough to put all of Scully's soldiers in the action. Luckily Scully had been smart enough to 'borrow' some of the warthogs so at least they'd have some mechanised support for the battle and a good way of evacuating the wounded without resorting to calling in a dropship.
Leaning forward to the soldier he was sitting knee to knee with Scully asked "Have you got the location yet?"
He had asked if Station 6 could use the radio transmissions from 2nd Platoon to triangulate their position but they had little luck so far. It was all that damn foliage. It blocked all radio signals coming in or out of the jungle and so made things maddeningly difficult. Scully knew that once they entered the forest they were most likely going to be on their own so he had come prepared by ensuring that each squad had someone with a high powered weapon in case they need their own mini barrage while in the jungle.
The soldier across from Scully shook his head sadly and replied "Nothing yet Lt, but I'll tell you the moment we get anything."
Scully frowned. A feat made even harder by the fact that he was already frowning seriously. "It'll be too late when we're in the jungle. Tell 6 that we need them to hurry up or else they're going to have two platoons lost in that hellhole."
The soldier nodded and went back to his radio. Scully sighed and went over his battle plans again checking to make sure that he had everything down pat. Any problem in such an isolated place and there was every chance that he'd be leading some of his soldiers to their graves, a fact which weighed very heavily on Scully.
Light smiled and asked "So, we're just gunna go in there and blow their asses off right?"
"Yea, that's right Lance Corporal," replied Scully smiling "then its back home for dinner and medals."
Taken aback by his sudden change in demeanour Light didn't have a chance to respond before Scully's attention was stolen back by the soldier across from him again.
"Sir! 6 just got back to me. They have the location and are sending coordinates right now."
Scully breathed a sigh of relief. This was going to make his job much easier. Rather than having to head to 2nd Platoons last known position and work from there they could just head to the general area they were now saving time and, more importantly, lives.
"Tell them I said thanks." Said Scully.
"I will sir."
----------
"Lieutenant Scully sends his regards."
1st Lieutenant Tom Lucas smiled weakly and replied "Tell him he's welcome to call anytime."
Although he was very strained Lucas had to maintain a positive outlook. He was the voice on the other end of the line for all the marines so it was his job to be light when necessary and serious at all other times. It was a difficult job and it was not uncommon to be yelled at in the normal course of his day but it felt good to be the only link between the marines and their much needed support.
"Hello? Potts? This is 6. Help is on the way. I repeat. Help is on the way. Can you hold out for much longer?"
Lucas waited for a response of any kind but the only reply that he got was a burst of static.
Clean Sweep 2
Date: 1 June 2008, 8:22 am
Once again, if you see any problems (either factual or grammatical ) feel free to contact me. I know I'm not a perfect writer and I enjoy every opportunity to better my writing. Case in point the fact that I'm not very good at expressing how a soldier would actually talk in a battlefield (I tried to do better but I'm not sure if I did any good). Also, (SPOILER ALERT!) I'm not sure if pilots actually power down while flying so if they don't just pretend you can see. Although it's the future so... maybe... maybe...
-------------------------
>To open file press enter. To delete press delete.
>ENTER
>>... file opened. Scanning retina...
>>Comparing to registered database, please wait. Search complete, welcome Major.
>>NOTE: ALL information in this document is to be considered RESTRICTED to level Alpha, failure to comply will result in immediate court marshal.
>>NOTE: Additional restrictions apply to Alpha documents. Under Section 109, Article VI, any failure to upkeep these restrictions will result in immediate execution. TREASON WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.
File start:
Operation: CLEAN SWEEP
Access Level: Alpha
Access code: N/A (Eyes only)
Receiver: Call sign 'Liquid' (TSgt Michael Mance)
Sender: Station 6, South Africa (1st Lt Tom Lucas)
Recording location: Station 6
>Begin Transmission:
>>Receiver: 6 this is Liquid over.
>>Sender: Roger that Liquid. How far are you from the site?
>>Receiver: I am currently passing 3rd Platoon now. I see red smoke in the jungle.
>>Sender: Negative, look for green smoke.
>>Receiver: Roger that. Engage red?
>>Sender: Not yet. We need to make sure that's not friendlies lighting the wrong grenade.
>>Receiver: Understood.
>>Sender: Do you see green smoke?
>>Receiver: That's a negative. All I see is red smoke over.
>>Sender: Wait while I contact the ground forces.
>>Receiver: (Off radio: Bloody ground pounders.)
>>Sender: Hang on (pause). Ok, red smoke is hostile. Repeat, red is hostile. You are cleared to engage.
>>Receiver: Roger. Engaging. (Pause then explosion) I see Covenant contacts moving for cover. Permission to engage?
>>Sender: Negative. Do you see green smoke?
>>Receiver: Negative (pause) wait (pause). Yes, I see green. Repeat, I see green smoke.
>>Sender: Roger. North of the smoke, do you see a slight rise?
>>Receiver: Yes, I see a small hill.
>>Sender: Good.
>>ERROR IN TRANSMISSION: SENDER LOCATION CHANGED. NEW LOCATION UNKNOWN.
>>Sender: Hit it.
>>Receiver: Hit it?
>>Sender: Yes. Burn it.
>>Receiver: You sure?
>>Sender: Yes! Hit it now before they're overwhelmed.
>>ERROR: Sender data double.
>>Receiver: Woa! What was that? I just got a massive energy burst over the com.
>>Sender (1): Hello? Hello? (Static) This is Station 6 calling Liquid.
>>Sender (2): HIT THEM NOW!
>End Transmission.
>Press Enter to Continue.
-------------------------
Lt Tom Lucas' heart skipped a beat. What the hell was this? He had been talking with Liquid and suddenly the radio cut to static leaving Lucas staring dumbfounded at his radio equipment. After a quick check with the engineers Lucas established there was nothing wrong with his end so did that mean something was wrong with Liquid? Had he been shot down? Impossible, his IFF tag showed him still in the air moving at a constant rate. Curiously though Lucas' instruments told him that Liquid was using his radio... and getting a response. Who was he talking to?
"What the hell is happening?" Lucas wondered aloud.
Typing furiously, Lucas tried to re-establish contact with Liquid and was rewarded when his screen told him he was once again in contact with the pilot.
"Hello? Hello? What's going on? This is Station 6 calling liquid."
Lucas nearly jumped out of his seat when another voice shouted over the radio "HIT THEM NOW!"
Who was this? A quick check confirmed that it wasn't Liquid so who else could it be?
"Hello? 6 Is that you?"
Lucas' eyes went wide as someone answered... but it wasn't him. "Yes, this is... uh... 6. Now I want you to hit the... green smoke."
It took several seconds for this to wash over Lucas. When he finally came to the only logical conclusion Lucas almost wished he hadn't.
"Liquid. This is 6. Do nothing. I repeat, do nothing."
Lucas had to buy himself some time to locate the Covenant bastards hacking into his network and show them the true meaning of pain. If he could locate where they were from their hack then he could call Liquid over to their position and have him turn everything into mush. The firepower Liquid's fighter was packing was nothing to poke a stick at; he could punch a hole in even the mighty Covenant Scarab... if a somewhat small one.
"... Liquid. This is 6. Hit the green smoke."
"Uh, 6. What the hell is going on?"
Lucas squashed the Covenant transmission from his com network and set about trying to locate the exact position of the hack. While doing that Lucas quickly turned on the com and spoke to Liquid in an attempt to seem on control of the situation.
"Hang in there Liquid. The Covenant just tried to hack our network. I'm trying to get a location now so you can blast them."
There was a pause as Liquid mulled this over then he responded "How do I know it's you?"
Lucas smiled grimly. "Ask me something only I'd know."
"How long since my last divorce?"
"You've never been married."
-------------------------
Tactical Sergeant Michael Mance smiled into his mask. "Roger that. I'll wait for you to contact me again."
There was no response but Mance wasn't expecting one. He knew Lucas was busy with his work. The man took his job seriously, something Mance could respect. While waiting Mance looked out of his cockpit and down at the wide expanse of greenery below then powered down his engine. Alternating between gliding and actually powering the engines would not only conserve fuel (which he strongly believed he would need as once ground forces had him to back them up they were typically very reluctant to let him go) but it would also stop him from being too far away from the combat area at anytime so he could quickly jump back into the action. Mance exhaled in awe at the beauty that lay below him and wondered how anything as destructive as a battle could exist below the tree canopy. He was answered when small arms fire occasionally stuttered up from below to meet him. It was annoying but Mance knew better than to return fire, it was dangerous enough when he had a clear view of the battlefield but when he couldn't see anything then the likelihood of him hitting the marines was just too high. Mance wasn't really here to shoot at anything anyway; he was carrying much needed ammunition for the stuck platoon below so any Covenant he managed to kill while dropping the supplies was only a bonus.
"Liquid, are you still in the area?"
Lucas knew damn well he was still in the area; he had tabs on all air units. Mance put two and two together, concluding that after the com hack Lucas had lost all faith in his machine's abilities. This could prove to be dangerous. Mance knew that it was a bad idea to trust only your instruments, the reason why he always double checked he was shooting the right thing with visual confirmation, but when your only ears in the battlefield are electronic you had to put some faith in your instruments.
"Yes I am, if you checked your radar you wouldn't need to ask me."
"... sorry. I have a location for the source of the hack. If you hurry you might still be able to hit some of them as they run away."
"Am I still dropping theses supplies or what?"
Mance wanted to know if there was a genuinely helpful reason for his being here or if he was only here to play 'Spot the odd alien'. Having no patience for timewasters Mance wanted to know if his presence held any importance.
"Yes, but I want this done before they're able to save enough equipment to hack in again."
Then Mance was all professional again. Hiding himself behind the cover of professionalism was something he did often in combat and now he had a job to do with parameters under which to perform it. Hit the Covenant position before they got away and deliver the supplies before the ground team no longer needed them.
"Roger that. Receiving coordinates now."
Mance swung his fighter around and hit the accelerator. Gathering up speed before launching a missile increased the speed of the missile, basic physics, which in turn increased the missiles penetrating power. Mance's HUD displayed a marker showing him the origin of the hack and other logistical data relating to what he was about to do to it.
"Target confirmed. I have a lock. Firing."
Releasing the locking pins on a missile Mance let fly and pulled up slightly so that while he would be able to watch the missile impact he would not hit the ground right after it. The Covenant had picked a good place to set up a hack. Too good. The elevation meant that they were an easy target for Mance and the missile impacted perfectly sending up a plume of fire, smoke, trashed machinery, plants and... other things.
"Target neutralised. Over."
"Roger that Liquid. Look for the green smoke."
Irritation welled up in Mance. He had played this game already and was tired of it. He didn't hate the marines but it was hard for him to feel any particular love or camaraderie toward them either. It was their own damned fault that they needed ammunition, not his. Regardless of his feelings through Mance knew that he had a job to do and that the marines did serve a purpose, which made his life easier so he swivelled his head back and forth looking for the smoke. This time however it wasn't long before he spotted the green smoke rolling into the air from the same place it was last time. Taking this as a good sign Liquid activated his intercom.
"Spotted the smoke 6."
"Roger that Liquid. Drop the package."
-------------------------
A bright white light. That's all Staff Sergeant Glen Floury knew. The white light started to fade away and Glen could once again see his surroundings. He was sitting on his bed in the barracks. Glen could hear the distant sounds of soldiers marching, jogging, practicing their marksman skills, bomb defusing, and room clearing. Even in the next room Glen could hear the telltale metallic sounds of marines cleaning and inspecting their weapons. Glen got up and drank in everything around him. Walking through the room Glen checked every bed in the barracks, though he didn't know why. Maybe it was just out of habit. Finally he came to the beds of his own squad, seeing someone had left a picture of their bed Glen went over to inspect it. Filmore's bed. Glen knew because Filmore had attempted to hide his extensive collection of magazines underneath. The collection had long grown beyond the Corporals ability to hide the damn things so, naturally, everyone knew about them. The only reason Glen hadn't busted him for them was because as opposed to the usual filthy magazines the marines tried to hide Filmore's were about hiking and travelling outdoors. Smiling Glen looked at the picture atop the bed; it was one he'd already seen before. It was a picture of Filmore hiking through some alien world with two other marines from their squad trailing behind him. Glen's mouth soured when he realised that the two marines were in fact dead and one of them he still had to write to tell their mother about. He didn't know how long he stood there staring at the silent faces of the dead but eventually Glen was shaken out of his reverence by a cough from behind him. Turning around Glen came face to face with 2nd Lieutenant Crosshaw, a British officer who seemed to enjoy causing the marines grief.
"Were you planning on joining us anytime soon?" Crosshaw's accent making the words seem all the more snide "Or were you planning on standing here all night with your thumbs up your arse?"
Glen stiffed his back and responded "Sir. No, sir!"
"Good then, everything is settled. You, along with the other squad leaders will lead the chockos out to find the Covenant while I confer with the other officers as to what we plan to do in the long term now that the Covenant has landed."
Glen's face tightened at the phrase 'chockos'. Although the other marines might not have gotten the old World War II reference Glen did know exactly what it meant. It meant that the Lieutenant had no faith in the battle performance of the marines. A 'chocko' or 'Chocolate Soldier' was a solder not fit for battle because they would supposedly melt under the heat. Not his squad, not his platoon.
"Sir. Yes, sir!"
Glen did an about face and ran off to find his squad. As soon as he was out of the Barracks Glen noticed Filmore sitting under a tree casually throwing stones against a wall in an attempt to hit a small dot he must have painted onto the wall. Glen was furious. Lounging about normally was something that he would not tolerate but in such a time of crisis things were made even worse.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Glen yelled with all the authority he could muster.
Filmore looked up then jumped up and locked into position standing with his back ramrod straight. It always amazed Glen that Filmore could have such a quality, it stood in great contrast to his usual persona as the wise-cracking prankster.
"Where's the rest of the squad?" Glen barked.
"No idea sir!" Filmore replied "I was too busy throwing peanuts in the lake..."
"Stow it!" Glen said, interrupting Filmore's joke. He'd already heard this one.
Noticing that his Staff Sergeant was in no mood to joke Filmore decided to remain silent for once. A good move if Glen ever saw one. Glen looked around trying to find any of his other squad members out in the yard. If they weren't in the barracks then there were few other places they could be. There was no town nearby to visit; in fact everything outside Station 6 was dense jungle with the exception of the main road and a large plain to the south of the Station created to give aircraft room to land and take off. As Glen looked he noticed that the sun was exceptionally bright making it very hard to see anything, even things up close. Turning back to Filmore Glen was a little startled to notice that it was hard to see Filmore as well. Through Glen could still tell he laid against the tree once more, rocks hitting the wall.
"Filmore!" Glen yelled "Filmore!"
Glen tried to move toward Filmore but his entire body suddenly felt heavy. Too heavy. Everything became whiter and whiter and Glen noticed how loud the rocks hitting the wall were, much louder than they should have been.
"Filmore!" Glen yelled but still he did not notice.
Glen decided that he couldn't hear him because of the rocks hitting the wall. They were so loud. Everything was becoming so white and so bright as well; it forced Glen to close his eyes. Glen tried to move again but his body was still too heavy to move. With his eyes shut Glen yelled Filmore's name again but there was no response so Glen tried to open his eyes. When he did everything had changed. Long gone were the surroundings Glen remembered and now he was surrounded by battle. Filmore was still across from him but now Glen could see the blood trailing its way down his forehead and a smoking assault rifle lying not too far from his unconscious form. Glen also realised that the loud sound of rocks banging against the wall was in actual fact the sound of artillery shells landing near and far. Glen groggily tried to move, tried desperately to get to his fallen comrade but his body would not respond to all of his commands and what commands it did respond to were too slow.
"Get down!"
Someone yelled near Glen and an explosion rocked the earth sending dirt everywhere. Glen forced his lazy muscles to move and dragged himself to Filmore picking up the rifle and slinging it across his back as he went. He wasn't sure if he had a steady enough hand to control the damn thing while it bucked against him but Glen felt safer with its familiar weight against his back anyway.
"Filmore." Glen croaked.
Filmore stirred and raised his head this time filling Glen with relief. He still didn't look good though, blood covered most of his face and his breaths were coming out in wheezing gasps. Though after sitting next to Filmore for a few minutes Glen realised that it was not in fact Filmore wheezing but him, Filmore was breathing peacefully. Glen looked down at his chest but saw nothing. He was wondering why he was still breathing with great difficulty when everything came rushing back to him. The grenade, the burning and being dragged back by Filmore. He was hit trying to save his squad leader. Glen groaned and tried to stem the flow of blood coming from Filmore's head by applying pressure, completely ignoring his own wounds. Glen cradled Filmore in his arms holding the Corporals head against his chest as plasma wined past them and tracers responded in kind. Off in the distance Glen could hear the familiar sound of a warthog's chain gun.
-------------------------
1st Lt David Scully had made radio contact with 2nd Lt Crosshaw only a few minutes ago and, following the other officers instructions, he was quickly led the dismounted team along with the warthogs to the hill on which most of 2nd Platoon were making their last stand. Scully had only managed to acquire five warthogs two with rear-mounted, three-barreled M41 Light Anti-Aircraft Guns (LAAGs), one with the hulking M68 Gauss Cannon quickly becoming popular amongst the more explosive orientated marines and two transport warthogs with the back end of them reconfigured so that they could carry extra marines. These last ones had no real offensive weapons like the other warthogs but they could carry more wounded and at least the open canopy allowed anyone in the back to fire out of the warthog.
"Lay down some fire behind us!" Scully yelled over the din.
Unfortunately whether the transport warthogs could handle themselves or not they would have to be babysat to some degree, meaning that his platoon would be spending just as much time protecting the transport 'hogs as they were trying to find 2nd Platoon. Scully however, knowing this had planned it all out. Each transport 'hog had been assigned a LAAG to guard it and the Gauss was given permission to freely roam around the platoon's position giving heavy mechanized support wherever it was needed.
The Gauss gunner moved the massive barrel to comply with Scully's command and let it rip into an entire squad of Covenant trying to sneak up behind them. The massive cannon fired three times each shot sending sound waves to buffet anyone in the cannon's general vicinity. The sound was almost deafening but the blasts did more to the Covenant than to the humans as Scully watched the first round strike a Brute square in the chest vaporising him and the Grunts unfortunate enough to be near him. The second round tore into a tree sending splinters flying in all directions hitting even more Covenant and the third round went wide not hitting anyone but throwing up dirt and creating a distraction for the Covenant nonetheless. Scully looked to the Gauss gunner. A young private named Rudd.
"Pour that gun into every nook and cranny. Don't be afraid to waste ammo!" Scully yelled to him.
The private just nodded and continued his reign of terror. It wasn't long before they started picking up squads of battle worn marines who swelled the ranks and added to the fire going out. Now given a cohesive force to rally behind and fight, the previously tired marines got their second wind and fought with renewed vigour and passion. Scully organised the new weapons into positions previously not covered by his platoon and it wasn't long before the incoming fire slackened and the Covenant troops began to retreat under the sweltering marine firepower.
"Oh yea!" yelled LCPL Joseph Light switching from his Battle Rifle to Sniper Rifle.
Light was using the old fashioned rifle which had long since been replaced with a much more current version but he refused to hand his in for a replacement. Old Zippo at the armoury was fuming about that one. Scully didn't believe this was because he cared about Light using a lesser weapon but because Zippo wanted the weapon for his own collection.
A marine smiled at Light and asked "Why are you using shit?"
Light smiled back and replied "We're gunna need the NV (Night Vision) on this shit."
Scully silently agreed with Light's evaluation of their situation. The sun was fast disappearing over the horizon and if they didn't hurry the hell up then they would be fighting the Covenant in the dark. Something Scully was not all that happy about. As a means of keeping the marines light he had ordered that anything not absolutely necessary to combat be left behind to all they're proper night equipment was still back at base. Cursing himself for a general lack of oversight Scully made himself promise that if he ever did get himself back to 6 alive then he would never send his troops out of base again without full and proper gear.
"Let's get it into gear! I want to be out before nightfall!" Scully shouted into the com.
Squad leaders yelled at their individual groups to comply with Scully's orders and the platoon double timed it to the hill where most of 2nd Platoon was making what was more and more becoming their last stand.
"Watch this." Light yelled to no one in particular as he brought his sniper to bear.
Light pulled the trigger and the sniper kicked against him sending a single round tearing through the trees and right into the space that had, only a second ago, been occupied by a Brute's head.
"Damn it!" Light cursed.
"Stop showboating!" Scully yelled at Light.
Immediately the smile disappeared from his face as Light put his sniper away and switched back to his Battle Rifle. Scully was pissed. He had no time to be keeping his marines on track while they humped it to 2nd Platoon, he shouldn't have to. Scully tapped his com and hailed Crosshaw.
"Crosshaw this is Scully. Do you read?"
"Roger that. Where the hell are you guys? We are dying out here."
"We are trying to get to you right now. I could use a little help though. Hit a beacon so I can see you on my HUD."
Crosshaw's next words were laced with so much sarcasm that Scully actually winced "Of course! Why didn't I think of that!? Oh, wait! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'll be inviting every Covenant bastard in the country to come and slaughter us!"
Crosshaw was infamous for both his sarcasm and his 'No BS' approach to telling people what he thought about them. It had gotten him into a lot of trouble with the brass and had resulted in his demotion on no less than five occasions but it also earned him the unquestioned respect of many of the marines. Crosshaw was a man who you either loved or hated, there was no in between.
"We need that beacon. The Covenant already knows where you are but we don't."
Scully waited for a moment but there was no response.
"Crosshaw? What's happening?"
There was still no response but a flashing marker did appear on Scully's HUD which he assumed marked 2nd Platoons position. Sending the coordinates to both his platoon and to any other marines who might be in the area then Scully broadcast a message to all of Dog Company.
"This is Lieutenant Scully. Everyone is to hump it to these coordinates immediately. That is where we will all meet together. If you are not there in," Scully consulted his watch "fifteen minutes we will leave without you. I repeat, everyone to the beacon now."
Scully had no intention of leaving anyone behind but he hoped to could inspire the soldiers to move faster if he gave them a time limit. This place was too hot for them to stay in for any period of time, the best thing to do was to get the hell out and carpet bomb everything.
Clean Sweep 3
Date: 27 June 2008, 7:07 am
>To open file press enter. To delete press delete.
>ENTER
>>... please enter password...
>> "the-doctor"
>>Please wait...
>>Thank you for waiting, welcome Captain.
>>NOTE: Destroy this document after use.
File start:
Operation: CLEAN SWEEP
Access Level: None
Access code: N/A
Receiver: Prowler Silent Fury , over South Africa (Ensign Jane Minchin)
Sender: Dog Company, 2nd Platoon, ONI Operative #008-76BC (2nd Lieutenant Ben Crosshaw)
Recording location: Prowler Silent Fury
>Begin Transmission:
>>Receiver: Crosshaw, do you copy?
>>Sender: Yes Fury. What do you want? (Explosion) I'm a little busy right now.
>>Receiver: We were sent information pertaining to an attempt by Covenant forces to hack into Station 6's com. We need you to verify by finding the equipment. Sending coord-
>>Sender: Fuck you.
>>Transmission ended. Cut off from source.
>Press enter to continue and delete.
"Who was that?" Scully asked.
Crosshaw looked at his superior officer and made a face then continued yelling at the troops.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He yelled at a young private sporting a rocket launcher "How the hell do you expect to kill anyone with that thing pointed at the floor?"
The private jumped, startled by the sudden attention given to him by Crosshaw and raised his launcher confusedly looking for something to shoot at. "What am I firing at sir?" The private yelled.
Crosshaw was about to turn the private into paste when Scully interrupted him by calling out to the entire company "Everyone who can move get those who can't onto the 'hogs! We are rolling out of here now !"
There was a rush of movement as people started loading the wounded onto the two transport warthogs and while they did Scully noted that he had underestimated how many people were incapable of moving themselves. Eventually though Dog Company, complete with two heavily burdened transport 'hogs, slowly rolled back in the direction of Station 6.
"Transports in the middle. All the other 'hogs up front with the rockets, blast us out of here!" Scully bellowed.
Instantly Crosshaw and the other leaders started implementing Scully's orders and arranged the company accordingly. It soon became apparent to Scully that at their current pace very little of D company would make it out of this forest alive but there was little that could be done about it. He had all his firepower up the front blasting a hole in the Covenant blockade for them to escape through and it would be impossible for Scully to regain a connection with 6 to call in an airstrike.
Almost as if he could read Scully's mind Crosshaw screamed to the drivers of the transport warthogs "Get those damn 'hogs into gear people. The rest of the company is not interested in waiting for you!"
As per usual Crosshaw's rage did what Covenant firepower and several yelling sergeants never could. The drivers of the transport warthogs picked up speed, finally moving into the holes in the Covenant defence created by the rockets. Scully was about to congratulate Crosshaw when he felt the heat of a massive orb of plasma heading toward their position soon followed by an explosion that rocked the earth. Scully clenched his teeth and hit the dirt, dodging a stray plasma bolt by mere millimetres. Looking at the patch of ground now superheated by the plasma bolt Scully spared a second to imagine what would have happened if it hadn't missed. What life would be like for people without him.
Pushing those thoughts aside Scully picked himself up and looked around, immediately he found what he was looking for. Standing atop a hill their three o'clock was a black armour clad Grunt shakily clutching a smoking fuel rod gun, the poor bastard stood out like a sore thumb. If Scully allowed this Grunt to live then there would be every chance that the Grunt would rain plasma hell down atop D Company using his devastating weapon. There was no doubt about it; he would have to be killed now.
"Oi! Light!" Scully yelled to the aspiring Rambo.
"Yes sir?" Light yelled back.
"Put your sniper to use. See that Grunt with the fuel rod gun?"
LCPL Joseph Light, grinning from ear to ear hefted his bulky rifle and got a bead on the Grunt. He was still smiling while he put three rounds downrange into the Grunt, knocking the diminutive alien onto the floor.
After watching to make sure the Grunt was indeed dead Scully turned his attention to damage control "I need a sit rep! Who was hit?"
Someone's voice crackled over Scully's com "Sir, one of the 'hogs have been hit! She's on fire... everyone's dead. There's nothing we can do."
The bottom dropped out of Scully's stomach. "Which 'hog soldier? Which 'hog?"
As Scully said this he turned around, frantically looking for any sign of the smouldering wreck signifying where a warthog once was. He saw the smoking gauss before he got a reply. "The gauss sir. It was Rudd's 'hog."
Filmore slipped in and out of consciousness. He vaguely remembered being lifted off the ground and moved into a vehicle. He didn't know what kind of vehicle it was and his mind was too groggy to take a guess as to what he was being carried away in. All that Filmore could remember for certain was that Glen was dead.
"Just sit back and relax soldier. We're getting you outta here."
Filmore couldn't see the person speaking but he recognised the voice as the one belonging to Sergeant Potts. Filmore wanted to respond. To tell him that Glen was dead but he felt something cold slip into his veins and Filmore realised he was being drugged up for the ride.
"We're almost home." Potts said reassuringly. "We're almost home."
The last thing Filmore thought before falling asleep was that he wasn't going home. Station 6 was very far from anywhere Filmore would call 'home'.
When Filmore woke he was surrounded by white, disorientation made him scared but slowly memories of where he was came flooding back in. He had spent much time in the med lab of Station 6 while he was in South Africa. Glen often said that-
Filmore banished the painful memory from his awareness as best he could but tears still began to well at his eyes. No longer wanting to be left alone with his internal turmoil Filmore tried to get up and move around the lab to find Doc Tyler but the moment Filmore's feet hit the floor a sense of vertigo hit his head so he had to lie down again.
"Woa there! Sit down. You're not going anywhere soon." said Doc Tyler as he swiftly moved to the marine's side.
"You can't tell me what to do." Filmore muttered under his breath, desperate to get out of the lab.
Doc Tyler smiled. "You can't tell me what to do sir ." He corrected.
Tyler had tried to force some humour into their conversation but, miraculously, Filmore wasn't in the mood for jokes and doubted whether he ever would be again. He had seen comrades die before but Glen... Filmore wanted to voice his outrage to Tyler at his attempts to make light of the situation but every time he tried to open his mouth he felt like he would burst into tears. He tried several times but each time resulted in the same failure. Filmore's throat felt like it was closing up; no words were strong enough to punch through so he just settled with an angry glare directed towards Tyler.
Tyler's smile faded when he realised he wasn't making any progress "You can get as angry as you want but it won't bring him back. So if you want to make that hatred count... save it for the Covenant."
At those words Filmore was finally able to rasp "What do you mean? The Covenant are still out there?"
Doc Tyler nodded "Lucas is trying his best but we can't seem to contact anyone. So for the time being... we're on our own."
Specialist Alex Cornet surveyed all that lay before her. She saw the Pelican dropship and two Shortsword fighters assigned to Station 6. She saw the wide expanse of lush green grass stretching towards the southern horizon. She saw the remaining warthogs still melted in some parts from where plasma scoring had warped their chassis. Most important of all, far in the distance, she could see the jungles she had been raining hell down upon for the better part of a day and where D Company had lost more than a few good soldiers.
Cornet stood upon a hulking behemoth of a gun still as a statue, almost daring the Covenant to leave the forest and challenge her might. She had been given the order by one of the lieutenants, the cute one with an English accent and a strong hatred or all living creatures, to monitor the jungle and destroy anything stupid enough to make the mad dash across the plain to Station 6. She was happy to oblige.
Turning to the rest of her group she yelled "Where the hell are the Covenant? I'm bored."
Some smiled but most saw her talk for what it really was, talk. She was just as scared as the rest of them but was better at hiding it than they were. Currently Station 6 was in a bit of a tight spot, the Pelican couldn't take them all away and they couldn't contact anyone to send them more so they were pretty much stuck in the middle of hostile central. They knew they had Covenant to their north just not exactly where north and how far north meaning that Covenant could literally just walk into their camp at any moment. They only had one pilot left and he had used to last of their Shortsword's heavy ammunition on his last run, the foolish bastard. To cap it all off although they had too many to transport in a Pelican they had too little to properly defend the base after the little incident in the jungle.
D Company consisted of four platoons. These platoons made a total of 160 combat personnel to guard Station 6 along with a HQ and other support staff including people such as Cornet. However, after today there were only 102 soldiers on base and 22 of those were in the med lab with injuries too bad to allow them back into combat. Cornet mulled over the logistics and probabilities of defending Station 6 with only 80 combat troops but quickly gave up. With those numbers the Covenant would have them overrun in moments in even the most suicidal attack.
Turning to her group once more Cornet realised the importance of not letting everyone else know this and guessing the burden of leadership here to be her responsibility she took it upon herself to reassure everyone.
"What the hell are the all you moping about? There's work to be done! Rescan the area and then do a visual check with the binoculars. Make sure no one with invisibility is sneaking up on us, watch for the waving air."
Watching her subordinates scuttle about to follow her orders and realising the need to keep herself busy as well Cornet scrutinized the person scanning with the radar to make sure he was doing it right. This part was the most dangerous part, the waiting game. Now they had to keep busy and keep aware of what was going on around them. The marines were good but they couldn't have eyes everywhere so it was important that she lend a hand in watching for Covenant lest their enemies get the drop on them. Ironically, as well as being the most important part, the waiting game was the part Cornet found the most annoying.
"God, just attack already so we can blow you to hell." Cornet muttered low so that only she could hear.
"Mud! I am sick to death of this stupid mud!" moaned Gir-tar turning her vulture-like head towards Yarrh. "No human bounty is worth this!"
Although Yarrh was inclined to agree he knew better than to return to the Jiralhanae without having, at the very least, tried to kill the human they were supposed to. They had been crawling through the slick mud for hours now thanks to their new leaders.
After the Jiralhanae Chieftain had met an unfortunate demise along with the rest of the pack leaders the only ones of high enough rank left were not really those who should be in power. Picking up on the idea left by their predecessors the Jiralhanae had decided to attempt an electronic attack against the humans but this had catastrophically backfired. Yarrh was unsure whether the blame lay on the Jiralhanae supervising or the fools doing the hacking but Yarrh did know that, one way or another, the guilty party would pay. If it so happens that the human they were to kill had something to do with the death of their kin then that would be a bonus along the way.
"Silence! We are nearly there. Prepare the beam rifle." Yarrh hissed.
Gir-tar obediently did as she was told and removed their sniper rifle from its casing, being very careful not to make too much noise or to let too much light reflect off its surface. They had slowly been making their way around the large field south of the human base so that they could get a decent view of the human's encampment. The Jiralhanae had told them to only fire upon one particular human who they believed to be the leader. Once he was dead they were allowed to take out any more targets of opportunity they wanted then retreat... so long as that particular human was dead.
"What can you see?" whispered Gir-tar eagerly. Yarrh could tell she was desperate to kill this human and leave, Yarrh was too.
"Nothing yet, I haven't gotten the viewfinder out yet." Yarrh snapped unzipping his own rucksack.
After a few minutes of quiet fumbling they were finally set up and ready to shoot, unfortunately they did not have sights on their target yet. Yarrh took another long look at the image of the human they were to kill. He had no idea as to how the photo had been captured and couldn't really care, all that mattered now was memorising the black tuft of hair, the pale white skin, the brown eyes and the disgusting nose. Yarrh found all humans vile to look at and this one was no exception though, Yarrh thought, it probably wouldn't matter for much longer as he intended to blow that face away.
Taking another look through the viewfinder Yarrh scanned the human encampment for any sign of this human but all he saw was their warrior class walking around searching for intruders like them. "Just try and find us," Yarrh whispered with glee "I would be just as willing to kill one of you in a close combat fight as by distance."
Although he could not see her while looking through the viewfinder Yarrh knew that Gir-tar heard him and was now smiling. He doubted she would have any regrets about getting into close combat with these creatures; she loved using her claws up close and personal.
"Don't engage them unless you absolutely have to." Yarrh warned.
Gir-tar smiled dangerously "But I do absolutely have to."
Yarrh sighed. "Not too long ago you were desperate to get out of here and now you can't wait to fight them? Slow down, I can't keep up with your constant mood swings."
"I'm always in the mood for killing." Gir-tar said almost cryptically.
Yarrh sighed again; Gir-tar was a real puzzle. One moment she could be complaining about the little things and the next she could be focused completely on the problem at hand, not that Yarrh was annoyed that she had finally decided to commit herself to the mission. Snorting and racking it all up to just another bad day Yarrh returned to the viewfinder hoping to spot the human, maybe today wouldn't have to be all bad.
Lucas hit the monitor with his fist but the reinforced metal and screen easily took the pressure without cracking. Rubbing his sore hand Lucas stared angrily at the screen as if the pain was its fault and swore some more. He immediately stopped when the door to 'The Com Bunker' opened and Captain Wall stepped into the threshold. If there was anyone more unpopular amongst the soldiers than Lieutenant Crosshaw it was Captain Wall, the man was not fit to lead troops. His mistake earlier in the day had cost many lives but he was the highest ranking officer at Station 6 and due to the com crisis there wasn't any way of changing that.
"Any luck punching through the static?" Wall inquired.
Lucas had the carefully moderate his voice in order to keep out the frustration but he didn't do a very good job of it. "No sir. I'm still having trouble."
Wall just stood in the doorway and didn't say anything for a while until "Could this be the Covenant jamming our signal?"
Flushing red at his impotence Lucas replied "There's no other explanation sir. This static is too strong, too inconvenient. It's the Covenant messing with us."
"That leaves us with two options. We can either send someone out on a mongoose to make contact with the nearest station or we could find the Covenant in the jungle and destroy the machine they're using." Wall said simply.
Lucas sighed explosively.
"Is there something I should know lieutenant?" Wall inquired.
"It would be pointless to send the marines back into the jungle. This signal isn't being sent from there." Lucas explained "Only a Covenant ship would have the capabilities to do something like this."
Wall raised an eyebrow in an attempt to look incredulous but all it did was make him look like a bigger idiot "You mean to tell me that there is a Covenant ship above us right now that has not bothered to glass us?"
Lucas gave Wall a condescending look "Their troops are still groundside sir."
Wall's face blanked for a minute and he just managed an "Oh." Before leaving.
Captain Wall found Scully in his quarters near the barracks. The moment Wall walked in he was almost overwhelmed by the stench of vomit, vaguely curious Wall studied Scully more closely trying to discern from his demeanour whether his sickness was due to a bug or to the failed operation.
"Are you ok Lieutenant?" Wall asked.
Scully opened his mouth to respond but quickly ducked behind his desk and started a dry heave which ended in a wet splat that made Wall visibly shudder.
Scully waited another moment before he came back up from behind his desk. "Do I seem ok Captain?"
At that remark Wall bristled. How dare Scully talk to a superior officer like that? "I hope that in this dire situation Lieutenant that you are not undermining my authority because this situation may warrant more severe consequences than the norm."
Suddenly a spark flared in Scully's eyes, something Wall had never seen before "How dare you." He snarled "You send God knows only how many troops into a combat situation without any recon or any information and then lecture me on the consequences of my actions? You are the highest ranking officer here and so it is your job, no... your duty to protect those under you. You've failed. Captain."
The last word was filled with a hatred Wall had not heard Scully reserve even for the Covenant. Touching the pistol at his side reflexively Wall chose his next words with caution "Are you sure this is my fault? I'm sure that while in combat leadership of 3rd Platoon is yours not mine. Not trying to cover for your own incompetence are you?"
The taunting subliminally laced into these words was not lost on Scully and he stood up now fully enraged. "You foolish bastard!" He roared "We have lost contact with everyone-"
Now Wall was yelling "We have not lost contact! At this moment I am searching for a scout to send out to the nearest Station to call for backup."
Scully leaned over his desk towards Wall and it was now, when they were face to face that Wall could see how sick Scully really looked. His cheeks had hollowed, his eyes were bloodshot and his breath was rancid. The once respectable looking officer was now more like a corpse than some of the marines lying in the mortuary. Scully waited a moment to let Wall drink in his features before he responded, no longer yelling. Scully's voice was a deathly whisper so soft that Wall had to lean closer to hear it.
"There is no station left within riding distance Captain. The last messages we received instructed us that air blockades are to our North, South, East and West. We have Covenant to both our North and South and they're closing in. We are truly alone now Captain. We are truly dead now Captain. And it's all your fault."
|
