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Death from Above by AlphaBravo343
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Death from Above: Humanitys' Resolve part I
Date: 10 April 2003, 1:08 AM
The MAC gun on the UNSC Battlecruiser Horizon, strobed twice, and began their journey across the twenty-kilometer stretch of space between the Battlecruiser and the Covenant frigate. Twin motes of red plasma swirled and collected energy along the Covenant frigates' starboard side, they were readying another salvo of torpedoes.
"Shield status lieutenant Hayter" called the captain to his systems officer.
"Eighty-three percent and climbing at twenty percent per minute, sir" he calmly answered, though the Captain could see the sweat beaded on his upper lip and his shaking hands. They had been in combat many times and he had sucessfully downed over forty Covenant battleships, the most of any registered UNSC vessel. The other UNSC ships around the Horizon followed suite, firing their MAC weapons at the massive fleet of Covenant vessels moving on earth.
"Time to impact of MAC shells on the Covenant frigate, Ares"
"Impact with Covenant frigate in eighteen seconds," replied the shipboard AI. Outside, the white-hot MAC rounds moved past the freshly fired plasma torpedoes, now heading for the Horizon. The two heavy MAC rounds tore through the ships' shields and slammed into its hull. It listed to port and the engines and precision engines flared as its pilot attempted to regain control, seconds later, two-hundred Archer V missiles mushroomed along its exposed hull. The infrastructure shattered and the reactor exploded, sending plasma in wide arcs away from the destroyed vessel. The twin plasma torpedoes, however, showed no signs of stopping as the neared the Horizon.
"Impact in eight seconds, sheilds at maximum," said Ares calmly.
"Sound collision alarms, brace for impact," said Captain Lockheed. Eight seconds later, the plasma splashed across the flaring sheilds of the Horizon. The sheilds shimmered brilliantly, dimmed, and cooled.
"Target the cruiser at coordinates zero zero zero point eight three," said Lockheed.
"Roger that, sir, coming about on course zero zero zero point eight three," replied lieutenant Ackerson, one of his pilots.
"lieutenant Parker, arm Archer V missile pods A-F, and get me best time on recharging those MAC guns," he said to the gunnery officer.
"Roger that Captain, MAC capacitors at forty-percent and climbing," he said.
"Divert all power necessary to get those capacitors at full" he said with despiration in his voice, as he looked at the main viewscreen and the targeted cruiser launched a salvo of plasma torpedoes at the Horizon. The twin MAC guns fired at the Covenant cruiser and tore through her sheilds, slammed into her hull, and left gaping wounds that ran through it from stem to stern. But it was still operational. Meanwhile, the plasma that had been launched, closed on the Horizon, and splayed wildly across her sheilded port side. Alarms blared and whined, informing the crew that the sheilds had been depleted.
"Lieutenant Hayter, get those sheilds back up now!" He shouted, meanwhile the nearby Orbital Defense Super Heavy MAC platforms fired at the damaged cruiser, seconds later, the salvo of super-heavy MAC shells obliterated the cruiser, but the torpedoes continued on course, but not toward the Horizon, instead, they moved toward the Orbital Defense Platforms. Two UNSC figates, the Lancelot, and the Termopylae moved to take the hits, the two torpedoes splashed across the sheilds of the frigates, protecting the platforms. Lockheed thought with gratefullness that the sheilds recently installed on all UNSC ships worked as well as the UNSC scientists had hoped. But while the ships had a descisive advantage, the platforms hadn't been fitted with the sheilding yet. Three hundred of the platforms orbited earth at all times and two-hundred more were planetside ready to be launched into orbit at a moments' notice. He snapped back to reality. On screen, the sheids of the two UNSC frigates cooled and they moved back to the net of battleships that encircled earth, giving protection on all sides.
"All Covenant ships in the vicinity have been eliminated, attacks have ceased in grids thirteen through eighty-five, the remainder of their third wave is fleeing earth airspace. They are going to regroup, and most likely, try to get their troops on the ground when they come back," reported Ares.
"Roger that, get technicians repairing the damages to the sheild generators. Lieutenant Harland, get me fleetcomm on the priority beta channel," he said as he loosened his collar and ran his hands through his greying hair.
"Admiral Williams is on sir, waiting for you to accept the transmission," said lieutenant Harland, as he furiously typed in commands to the tech crews in the reactor room, informing them of their instructions.
"On screen," said the Captain.
"Whats happening Lockheed, whats the situation in your quadrant?" asked the admiral with a hint of impatience in his deep voice.
"Sir, all Covenant vessels in this sector have been eliminated, all other remaining Covanent vessels are moving on out of system vectors. They will regroup and attack again in an estimated three hours, sir." he added that last note with a touch of sarcasm.
A smirk spread across the Admirals' weathered features as he replied, "Very good Lockheed, begin repairs to your vessel and log your actions with UNSC Spearhead groundside."
"Yes sir, Captain Lockheed, out," he said as the comm channel closed and the monitor switched back to the tac display. He stood up and walked towards the exit from the bridge. "Lieutenant Hayter, you're in charge, i'll be in my quarters. Inform me if anything comes up," he said wearily as he turned and strode out of the bridge and to his quarters.
"Yes sir," said Hayter as he turned to look out of the large windows on the bridge. Looked at the giant warships of the UNSC fleet looming in the heavens above earth, his planet, his home...
To be continued...
Death From Above part II: Foreboding to Hell Fire
Date: 12 April 2003, 3:28 AM
Hell Fire
0600 Hours January 12, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Battlecruiser Horizon
Earth Airspace
Three hours turned into two days. The UNSC had been on the ready, with all ships on combat alert Alpha. And still, the Covenant had not returned to attack Earth, nor had any more recon pickettes come. Little did the UNSC know, a fleet of almost one-thousand Covenant frigates, cruisers, flagships, and destroyers were moving at that moment toward them.
"Scout probes returning in eight seconds sir," said Lieutenant Hayter. The small probes returned from their short slipstream flight. The probes were very unreliable due to the lack of understanding of slipstream space. They would sometimes show up thousands of kilometers from their point of origin, and drones would be sent out to retrieve them. Sometimes, they never came back at all. "Probes returning to normal space now sir," said Hayter as two of the twelve probes appeared outside of the Horizon. "Data transfer beginning, sir."
"Send data to my tac display," he said glancing out of the forward windows, out into the depths of space and the lattice of small stars in the distance. The data uploaded to his station and what he saw made his heart stop. On the monitor, there was the swirling Heredotus galaxy in the distance, an unknown gas-giant set in the corner of the shot...And as far as the shot could encompass, were Covenant battleships.
"Get me Fleetcomm on the Priority Alpha Channel now!" he shouted at Lieutenant Hayter. He jumped as Captain Lockheed shouted the order over the relativley silent hum, and the occassional conversation on the bridge.
"Yes sir!" he said back as he furiously typed in the command to the comm station planetside. "Sir!, Admiral Nyquist is on the line!" he said, twisting his head around to look at the Captain.
A small holographic projection of the tall, muscular, man in his late forties snapped to life on the pedestal next to the main tactical display screen.
"What have you got Lockheed?" asked Nyquist as he pulled on his collar.
"Sir, I have an estimated nine-hundred and thirty-four Covenant battleships on the outer ring of the Kushan nebula. They are moving at considerable speed, however, they are not in slipstream space. All ships that are docked should be ready to launch on a momaents notice and all secondary orbital defense platforms should be launched into orbit ASAP," said Lockheed as sweat began to run down his neck.
"Roger that Lockheed, good work, Nyquist out," he said as the line went dead and the small holographic projection rippled and flickered out. He looked out of the forward window again, finding it ironic that the space stretching endlessly all around them, looked serene and calm. But in reality, they were dark waters infested with sharks on a constant vigil, and circling toward Earth, and the only prey they cared about...Humans.
The fear and adrenaline coursed throuh Lockheed as the giant Covenant battleships appeared in the distance. It had been two hours from the transmission with Admiral Nyquist until they had jumped in system. The lumbering vessels grew larger on the monitors and in the veiw window.
Oh God, please don't let them take Earth. he thought. He had been there when they took Reach, and his crew had fought them fiercley when the took Babylon VIII, and when the Covenant had glassed the planet, the remaining UNSC ships jumped out of system, and he cried. He had sat in his quarters for hours, crying. So many lives lost, so many planets glassed, he cried, blinded by his mixed fury and sorrow.
He snapped back to reality, pushed aside his thoughts of sorrow; he set his jaw. Temporarily forgetting his emotional weakness, he saw that the Covenant fleet had halved the distance from Earth. They were now about 500,000 kilometers from the defense net, and closing at considerable speed.
"Ares, lock in targeting solutions, and get me the classifications of those vessels ASAP," he said to the hologram clad in Roman armor. Data scrolled across his muscular form, as he identified the ships in the fleet, and gave targeting solutions for the most hazardous targets. A lattice of small indicators flicked on the tac display. One-hundred and eleven flagships were tagged as targets. He relayed the targeting solutions to the orbital defense platforms, and they acknowledged and thanked him for the information. If they didnt take out those flagships, they could single-handedly take out the entire UNSC fleet.
The Admiral opened a public channel to all the UNSC battleships. "This is Admiral Nyquist to all UNSC warships, the Covenant are moving in, probably for the last time. This is it, the climax of all that has happened in the past thirty years. The Covenant have been destroying our planets and colonies, killing our women and our children, and slaughtering our soldiers. They have crushed our ships, and obliterated our most powerful of weapons. They have declared a holy war on us, and waged that war with uninhibitted tenacity. And here we are, at Earths 'welcome mat', waitng for them to begin the assult that will either decide their complete and utter victory, or send them home with their tails between their legs. Earth is all we have left, and we did our best to keep them from finding it. Well, folks, they finally did.....And now its time to do something about it. I'm uploading targeting solutions to your AIs, move to grid thirteen by twenty-four, they are moving in in a phalanx formation, and they'll run into our nuclear mine field in a few minutes. Take up postitions facing their appraoch vector and give yourselves room to maneuver. And one last note, everyone target the flagships first, they can wipe us out before this battle even starts. Good luck people, Nyquist out."
Lockheed looked at his bridge crew, then at his tac display, then at the UNSC warships moving into position, and finally at the approaching mass of death itself heading straight for the one place he had fought to protect in his time in the UNSC....Earth.
To be continued...
Death from Above part III: Apocalypse
Date: 13 April 2003, 3:30 AM
Apocalypse
2145 Hours, January 12, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Battlecruiser Horizon in orbit
Earth Airspace
They were closing in now. They were within firing range, and still, not one Covenant vessel had so much as launched a fighter.
"This is Admiral Nyquist to all UNSC battleships, pick your targets and be ready to fire on my command. Make sure you take out those Flagships first, I say again, take out those Flagships first!, Nyquist out," he said and the line fell silent.
"Lieutenant Parker, target the nearest Flagship and get me firing solutions on our MACs and Archer V missiles. They'll be running into the nuclear minefield in a few seconds," he said, glancing at Lieutenant Parker.
"Yes sir, targeting solutions on line, transferring data to tac computer," he said as he typed in the calculations.
Outside, the Covenant had met the nuclear minefield. The hundreds of nuclear blasts eclipsed the entire area, overcoming all other light. The nuclear firestorm that ensued sent out EMP waves, deactivating the shields of the nearby vessels. The exposed ships were obliterated in the blast. When the fire and smoke cleared, three hundred Covenant ships had been engulfed in the moon-sized explosion, leaving a hole in their enormous phalanx formation. They were now down to roughly 670 ships. 670 Covenant ships against 900 UNSC ships, not very good odds, but more amazing things had happened.
Two lances, needle thin, shot through space and bounced off two UNSC frigates, the Heracles and the Liberty. Their shields held, but the two ships spun wildly off course, their pilots struggled to regain control of the vessels. They slowed their spin, adjusted, and regained control.
"Flagships fired those shots," said Captain Lockheed, "Ares, if one of those Flagships targets us, detonate one of the fusion tanks the exact moment they fire."
"Yes sir, their weapon moves at light speed, so I cannot gaurantee with one hundred percent assurance that they will miss," replied the calm voice of Ares, his small form on the pedestal shimmered in the light cast from the ceiling of the bridge.
The Admiral came on the alpha channel again, "All ships, target the Flagships and be prepared to fire at my command," he said. Lockheed rechecked the targeting solution on the Flagship he had locked in. The Admiral came in again, "Fire!," he shouted, and the entire UNSC fleet and the five hundred orbital defense platforms fired simultaneously. Over a thousand heavy and super-heavy MAC rounds streaked toward the Flagships among the Covenant fleet. Seconds later, thousands of Archer V missiles streaked forward from the UNSC vessels. A few hundred MAC rounds went wide, but the vast majority found their marks and slammed through the Covenant Flagships. One hundred of the Flagships were struck and several of their fusion reactors detonated, seconds later thousands of Archer V missiles found their marks and blossomed along the hulls of the massive ships. Only four of the Flagships remained.
"What the hell is going on? Why haven't they fired yet? They didn't even fire pulse lasers to destroy the missiles." said Lockheed, and as if on cue, the Covenant ships hummed to life and lights flickered on inside the vessels. The Flagships must not have to power down when they exit slipstream space he thought to himself. Why didnt more of them fire then? he thought again. Suddenly, hundreds of motes of red light began collecting among the Covenant fleet. Their ships were readying a massive salvo of plasma fire.
The admiral spoke again over the alpha channel. "Everyone make sure your sheilds are at full charge, if you sustain more than two plasma blasts, your sheilds will give out. If your sheilds do go out, begin evasive maneuvers."
The UNSC ships fired another salvo of MAC rounds at the Covenant, and the orbital defense platforms followed suite. At the same moment, the Covenant launched their own plasma weapons. Seconds later, thousands of Archer V missiles began chasing after the MAC rounds. The two salvos of MAC rounds and plasma torpedoes met and passed each other. Seconds later, the MAC rounds slammed into the Covenant fleet, sending the smaller ships into wild, spinning arcs away from the rest of the fleet, then they were torn apart from the g-forces weighing on their punctured hulls. The larger ships were gutted by the MAC rounds, and many detonated, the rest weren't destroyed, but were out of comission. Several seconds later, the plasma torpedoes streaked toward the UNSC battleships and splashed across their sheilds. Two-hundred UNSC ships boiled and melted under the combined plasma fire, others jumped into evasive action. All at one time, hundreds of UNSC and Covenant ships jumped forward at full speed. One UNSC destroyer, the Minotaur lanced ahead at full speed, the large metal plate in the shape of an jagged arrow head that had been welded onto her stem, dug into a Covenant carrier and split her amidships. the two halves drifted apart and detonated seperately. the Minotaur turned in a wide arc, her engines beginning to reach crtical heat, and slammed through another Covenat ship. It too was severed, and the two pieces twisted apart, spreading debris in every direction. Six Covenant frigates turned and began to charge their plasma torpedoes, they were facing at the Minotaur. But before they could fire, the Minotaurs' MAC gun strobed three times at the nearest Covenant frigate, and it instantly detonated, then five small exauhst trails exited the Minotaur. Lockheed zoomed the forward camera and saw that they weren't missiles, or rather, not regular missiles. They were 100 megaton nuclear warheads. The five warheads streaked toward the surrounding Covenant frigates, and detonated in a giant sphere of nuclear fire, when the explosion cleared, the Minotaur was gone, and so were thirty other Covenant ships surrounding it.
"Target that other Flagship Lieutenant Parke-," the ship violently shot to starboard, and Lockheed was thrown to the ground. Several of the bridge officers and techs moved to help him up. "Ares, what the hell was that?" he asked with annoyance in his voice.
"I apologize sir, I had to detonate one of the fusion tanks to avoid the Flagships' weapon," answered the calm voice of the A.I.
"It's ok Ares, now, give me a targeting solution on that Flagship," he said brushing off the front of his vest. A moment later, the ship was tagged with a reticle and the A.I. spoke again.
"Targeting solution online Captain, awaiting Lieutenant Parkers' fire signal."
"Fire away Lieutenant Parker," said Lockheed as the MAC gun strobed twice, and the white hot projectiles jumped from the bottom of the battlecruiser. Two more MAC rounds, from the orbital defense platforms raced by the Horizon as hundreds of Archer V missiles launched from their tubes. Seconds later, the Flagship listed lazily to port as the first of four MAC rounds slammed into her hull. As she turned, she exposed her side, and three more MAC rounds punched through her, leaving gaping holes in her hull. Seconds later, hundreds of Archer V missiles detonated along her side, and its superstructure imploded, crushing the ship in on itself.
"Sir!, I'm picking up thousnads of Covenant troop transport ships heading for the surface!" shouted Lieutenant Hayter.
"Roger that, Lieutenant Ackerson, bring us about and line us up with those transports! Lieutenant Parker, target those ships with our Archer missiles, and fire at will!" He said and several UNSC ships turned to fire on the troop transports. Thousands of missiles screamed toward the dark cloud of ships moving toward Earth. Three thousand of them exploded, two-thousand got through. "Lieutenant Hayter, get UNSC groundside headquarters on the line, tell them Earth is being invaded!"
To be continued...
Death from Above part IV: Staring Into the Face of Death
Date: 18 April 2003, 3:55 AM
Answered prayers
2200 Hours, January 12, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Earth, grid nineteen by thirty-two (Washington D.C.)
They had come fast, even with the warning from the HQ in Denver, they hadn't been prepared for what came. The sky was thick with Covenant troop transport ships. When they slowed, and began hovering above ground, hundreds of smaller Covenant dropships streamed from their docking bays. It was at that point that the largest military engagement in the history of the world had begun, and every man able to fight took up his rifle and fought them. But they were too numerous, they pressed through the UNSC ranks, through the hundreds of troops gaurding the former capitol of the United States of America. The Covenant pressed through Washington D.C., and killed everything in their path.
Private Owen Landry fired his MA5B at the grunt that hobbled toward him, the three rounds tearing through the grunts' thin armor, shredding the innards of it's chest. It fell to the ground, it's plasma pistol discharged twice, and then it was still. He sighed, he had been fighting off stragglers for about two hours, He and thirty other Marines that had survived the initial wave of Covenant troops that assulted Washington D.C. His head tilted toward the sky, it was black with acrid smoke, and where it wasn't he could see explosions ripping flashes of nuclear fire into the night. As he stared in awe at the display of dancing fire in the sky, he thought he heard something. "The wind?" he thought, no it wasnt a howling sound, it was more of a mechanic, high pitched whistling...
Covenant Dropship
In the time it took for this to cross his mind, four Covenant dropships tore through the thick smoke and rising ash surrounding the city. "Please God, no" he thought, feeling the weariness right down to his bones. He cycled the bolt on his MA5B and began to sprint toward the bunker they had fallen back to, his muscles screaming in protest all the way.
The Marines stood silent, assult rifles trained on the landing dropships. Cavell cycled the bolt on the 20mm chain cannon mounted on top of the bunker. They watched silently as the bay doors opened and the Covenant troops, still unaware of the Marines, grouped together as the dropships dusted off. Jagger pulled the pin on a frag grenade, drew his arm back, and tossed it into the group of Covenant troops. For a moment, it seemed as if time had slowed to a crawl. The grenade sailed through the air and clattered to the ground on a slab of concrete. Then another landed in the center of a group of elites. They detonated almost simultaneously. Grunts and Jackals were tossed from the thundering explosions and fell, elites screamed in agony as they were pelted with small bits of white hot shrapnel. The remaining forces had stood in shock for a moment, then Cavell opened up with the 20mm and they rounds tore through their ranks. Seeing where the rounds were coming from, they began to charge at the bunker. As they did, the marines opened up with their assult rifles. The Covenant were cut down in a hail of gunfire, and then his world went black. A Covenant mortar tank ahd fired on the bunker, sending the marines sailing through the air as the small building was obliterated beneath them.
He opened his eyes, he was on the ground, and his fellow marines were no where in his range of vision. He saw the burning rubble of the Capitol Building, the broken and crumbled Washington Monument, and his eyesight was shadowed. He looked up, squinting his eyes to see what had come to kill him. "God," he thought, tears coming to his eyes, "save me," and he looked at the face of the elite- and it exploded outward, the round tore through its skull sending bits of bone and brain matter out of its face, or where it had been. He blinked his eyes in disbelief, And then he was being picked up. He couldn't see who was helping him, and he didn't care. It was a miracle, an answered prayer. Finally, after he had been stood upright, he turned to see the one who had saved his life, the one whom God had sent to save him. And he almost fell over again at what stood before him.
"It's the Master Chief", he thought. "That's not possible, there are no more Spartans" But still, he saw at least one-hundred of them, and they had brought equipment. Tanks, warthogs, pelicans, and crates of ammo.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, shifting his eyes back to the Master Chiefs' faceplate.
"We've been deployed to take back Earth. And tonight, the Covenant will be taught a lesson: Don't mess with the bull, or you'll get the horns," he said and chuckled. How could he be so lighthearted?, and at a time like this? He looked back at the army of Spartans that had come to save Earth, and he didnt need an answer to his question, he knew. They weren't going to lose, the Covenant would not take Earth. And it was at that point that Owen Landry decided that if there was anything that needed to be done to save his homeworld, he would aide these invincible super soldiers in their task.
To Be Continued...
part V: Black Night Squadron
Date: 24 April 2003, 2:17 AM
2300 Hours, January 12, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Fort Ticonderoga, Grid seventy-six by eighty-four (Denver, Colorado)
"All Apache pilots, report to your gunships on the double, repeat, all pilots report to your gunships immediately! This is not a drill!," came the Commander over the intercom system throughout the base. Fort Ticonderoga was embedded deep within Mt. Liberty deep within the Rocky mountains. The tunnels weaved deep into the granite layers beneath the mountain. The airfield was positioned in a man-made crevice carved in th top of the mountain. The mist covering the air above the airfield was dense with fog and mist, which would have been a bad thing....except there were sensory outposts all along the Rockies. That and a grid of infra red lasers that criss-crossed over the opening of the small canyon around the airfield, making an intricate 'honeycomb' pattern that detected interruptions in the lasers. Fort Ticonderoga was pivotal and important to the superiority of the UNSC in-atmosphere air combat.
Lieutenant William Evans zipped up the front of his flight suit and shifted his helmet to under his other arm. The word "Preach" was written in worn and scratched white block letters across the sides and front of his flat-black helmet. He pushed his aviator glasses farther up onto his nose and ran his hand through his dark hair. Technically, he was too tall to be an Apache pilot, but with the best track record of any apache pilot in the UNSC Air CORPS., no one was complaining. He quickened his stride, anxious to get behind the controls of his AH-75 B Longbow Apache Gunship. They looked exactly like the 21 century AH-64 Apache Attack Choppers, except these weren't helicopters, they used jet propulsion systems. The UNSC hadn't quite lost use of helicopters, but they were generally used to transport supplies when the UNSC wasn't at war.....until the Covenant had made war on humanity. He wasn't afraid of dying, but he sure as hell wasn't afraid of the Covenant.
"Hello beautiful," said Evans as he ran his palm along the side of his Gunship. He traced his fingers along his name just below the canopy line. He released the latch and the canopy made a slight hissing sound as it tilted back away from the cockpit seats. He hopped in and began to don his helmet, when his co-pilot and navigator hopped into the rear seat.
"Morning Preach, sleep well?" he asked, and Evans didn't need to look at him to know he was grinning from ear to ear.
"I'm wonderful, and how is this glorious morning going for you Striker?" he retorted, wearing a grin of his own.
"Wonderful, ready to kill some Covenant bastards?"
"Haha, do I need to answer that question?" he replied flicking the switch to warm up the engines. Striker's agreeing grunt was lost beneath the growing whine of the turbines. He looked to his right and the airstrip crewman gave him the thumbs up to lift off. He pressed another button and the rigid canopy closed around them. The whine of the engines turned into a deep rumbling and was muffled as the canopy sealed shut. His hands fluidly danced across the controls on the panels in front of him and he rested his hands on the flight and guns sticks. A targeting and airspeed/height meter flicked to life on his hud as he flipped down the clear visor on his helmet. The turbines turned downward and the Apache lifted off of the airstrip. They turned back and the Apache slowly built up speed as it ascended into the mist covering the canyon. His hud went infra red and he could see the rigid line rock jutting into the sky and the missile and machine gun turrets that provided over-lapping fields of defensive fire.
"All Apache gunships, take up position at these coordinates," he said as he relayed the coordinates to his squadron. As he brought his Apache about, he could see the other thirty gunships falling into line around him. He took the small cross on the chain around his neck from beneath his shirt and kissed it. Having it had earned him ridicule from several soldiers who were a little less religious than himself. But the UNSC had encouraged them to find something to hold on to and to focus on.
"We are moving to California, the 122 airborn division has requested air support for the attack that will begin in about an hour. Knight group Bravo will move to San Diego, Alpha will move to San Fransico. Provide air cover and take down as many Covenant dropships as you can before they get troops on the ground, You know your jobs people, let's bring everyone home again, Preach out," He said as he cut the COMM link. He eased forward on the throttle and the Gunship accelerated out of the cloud cover, he glanced to his left and saw Bravo squadron moving away. As he broke free of a patch of clouds, he tilted the Gunship to the right and peered down at the ground, charred and burning. A battle had taken place here several hours ago. The ground was swarming with UNSC personnel and vehicles. Several of the soldiers waved as the Gunships passed, he gave them a small wave and brought the Apache back up to the rest of Alpha squadron. He had heard that there was a SPARTAN II squad newly trained and deployed in Washington D.C. a few hours ago. That was a definite plus, the SPARTANS were the only real way the UNSC could ensure a desicive victory on the ground. The Apache Gunships were a relativley new addition to the UNSC fleet, and an essential one at that.
The sky was heavy with acrid and black smoke, thankfully, it had risen in plumes instead of clouds, this allowed him to see the ground and the bunkers along the shoreline. The Marines had secured the city, and saved fourteen-thousand civilians. He averted his attention ahead again and was startled by what lay before him. A swarm of Covenant dropships and fighters were moving on the beach head. The missile pods along the shore opened up on the fighters, swatting half their numbers out of the sky, then the auto cannons opened up on the Covenant banshees. They were gutted by the 30mm shells that decimated their hulls. The air was thick with machine gun fire. The Knight squadron swooped out of the sky, and moved on the banshees.
"Knight three, fox-two!"
"Knight one, fox-two!," Evans called over the COMM channel. And thirteen other Gunships launched multiple HE Anvil II missiles at the dropships. The groundside missile pods followed suite and launched hundreds of missiles at the incoming dropships. Nearly all of them were shot down in the hail of missiles.
The Apaches tore into the group of banshees. Evan's 30mm machine guns strobed on the sides of the cockpit, casting an eerie light on his controls. He rolled and dodged incoming plasma fire from the slower, less manuverable banshees. One banshee tore through the smoke several hundred yards ahead of him. He squeezed the firing triggers on his control sticks. The tracer rounds lanced forward from the barrels and the banshee nimbly dodged them. Still, he held the triggers down, and one of the bullets caught the anti-grav pod on its wing tip. It spun wildly out of control, spitting plumes of smoke from the pod. Evans pulled the flight stick back hard and the Gunship curved back so it was upside down, then he spun it upright again. he surveyed the battle field, the Covenant had gotten a few squads on the ground and they were charging up the beach toward the bunkers. Evans brought his Gunship about and beared down on the Covenant troops. He launched two missiles at the dropships that were still idling on the beach. They exploded in two giant plumes and the Covenant troops turned toward the incoming Gunship.
"That's right you bastards, look at me when I'm talking to you," and he grinned as he unleashed a hail of tracer rounds into their ranks. Pieces and limbs from Covenant troops flew in every direction, and he grinned as he flew by the bunkers along the beach, several feet off the ground. The troops roared in victory and waved at him as he passed.
The Apache alighted on the airstrip back in Denver and Evans clambered out of the open cockpit. He unzipped his flight suit and strode back to the barracks entrance. He thought faintly to himself about the war, and that he was so underused in the fight to save Earth. He thought about the intense fighting going on on the opposite side of the country, about the intense fighting everywhere.....except here. He didn't really care, and he took out the small cross and examined it. It had a small replica of a man who he had heard was called "Jesus". He didnt quite know the story and he decided it could wait until later to think about. The large metal door opened in front of him and he stepped inside, it hissed shut again as he walked inside.
To be continued...
Death from Above part VI: The Gods of War
Date: 29 April 2003, 3:04 AM
0103 Hours, January 23, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
North Western United States, SPARTAN-II group Bravo
The army of Spartans had swept through the north west part of the United States, and were still moving at an incredible pace. With the help of three battalions of UNSC Marines and several reigiments of ODSTs, they had managed to take back Detroit, Bangor, Washington D.C., the state of Delaware, and New Jersey. They were preparing to move on to the more southern states when all hell broke loose on manhattan...
Private Douglas was patrolling the small strip of road along the shore of the East river. The Spartans had made a fortress out of the island and it was under their complete control. He had his MA5B at his waist, holding it lazily with both hands. The seawall to his right gave way to a thick sheet of fog that surrounded the harbor. The air was thick with forboding and strangley, his stomach felt as if it were churning. Not literally, but it was the tell-tale sign that his instincts were telling him to be wary.
There was a loud clang down the small alley to his left, he raised his assult rifle in a lightning fast motion. The alley was dark, he kept his eye down the alley as he flicked the flashlight on his rifle to the "on" setting. The beam of light seemed thin in the heavy mist. He swept the rifle across the alley, and saw what had made the noise. A cat lay behind a trash can, its wide eyes staring at him, it shuddered and darted away.
He grinned as he turned back toward the street, shaking his head and letting out a small chuckle. But all at once, he stopped walking, not on his own will, but it seemed as if a wall had fallen silently behind him in the time it took him to find the cat. He stepped back, puzzeled, and almost let out a scream at the silouhette that stood before him. He raised his rifle slowly up the figure. The light revealed two cloven hooves, and black armored shins, the light travelled up the creatures large and muscular chest, and finally resting on its head.
The Elite clicked its mandibles dripping with saliva, and let out a low snarl. Douglas started to shriek, but the air caught in his throat. Time had slowed, and he found he couldn't move his limbs. Nevertheless, he began to raise his MA5B, and he saw a strobe of blue-white light, heard the whine of a plasma weapon, and felt something slam into his chest. He fell backward, and his vision began to fog. He groped at his chest and felt the wound, he felt the exposed bones and the searing tissue of his inner chest. His hand came away sticky with his own blood. It doesn't hurt, he thought, shouldn't it hurt?
He scrambled to his knees, blood pouring from the gaping wound in his chest. He reached for the rifle with a shaking, blood smeared hand. The Elite pushed it's foot down on top of his arm, he heard bones crack, it didn't hurt either. He fell on to his back again, facing the Elite. It seemed to grin at him as It said in perfect english, "Your time has come to an end human" And it tightened it's grip on the glowing plasma rifle and aimed it at Douglas'face.
He somehow found the strength to lay hold of his M6D pistol strapped to his hip, and leveled it at the Elite's grinning face with a strength he didn't know he possessed. "Well, then I'll see you in hell," he said as he held down the trigger and the pistol spat .45 caliber rounds into it's face. It's sheild shimmered and blinked out from the sustained fire. It's eyes widened and Douglas smiled, bearing his blood filled mouth to the creature, and he squeezed the trigger. The last round in the magazine tore a fist-sized hole in the Elite's head, and the last thing Douglas saw was it's crumpled form fall beside him. And then he knew no more.
"COMM reports are coming in from all over the island sir!, the entire task force is engaged with a Spec-Ops group of Covenant soldiers!," shouted the tech Sargeant from his seat at the radio link.
"Alright, let's have Spartan group A move to the west end of the island, and send group B to the east end. The two Master Sargeants stood, saluted the Master Cheif and he returned it. They strode from the command tent and the Master Chief knew that they would carry out his orders and that the Covenant would be stalled here.
Explosions erupted around the Chief, a Wraith mortar tank launched a globule of plasma at his flank. He dove forward and felt the ground rumble. He looked behind him and saw a crater and the remnants of four marines that had once stood there. He quickly got to his feet and unslung his Jackhammer launcher. He leveled it at the hovering behemoth and squeezed both triggers. Twin puffs of exhaust streaked toward the tank and it detonated into three pieces. He looked off to his left and through the smoke of the battlefield, he could see several marines pinned down behind the burning chassis of a Warthog by a Ghost. He reloaded the launcher as he sprinted to the burning Warthog. He dove behind it just as several streaks of plasma sizzled by behind him.
"Thank God," muttered one of the marines, "I thought we were cooked."
"Not as long as I'm here, just sit tight, I'm gonna send that bastard to hell," said the Chief.
He popped out from behind the Warthog long enough to draw a bead on the ghost. He launched a rocket at the hovering vehicle and it's pilot tried to strafe out of the rocket's path. But it was too late, the rocket clipped the right "wing" of the craft and the wing dipped into the ground, sending the Ghost in a tumbling motion toward one of the nearby buildings. The Ghost plunged into the building's wall and exploded, sending it's howling pilot through the air. The Elite crumpled on the ground and the Cheif heard it's spine splinter beneath its muscular neck.
All at once, the battle stopped. The Chief looked around at the sky-scrapers, at the burning scy-scrapers, and the billowing orange-ish black smoke rising above the island in giant columns.
"Reports from all over the island sir, the Covenant is falling back, I repeat, falling back," spoke the Corporal through the hissing COMM link through his helmet's speakers.
"Thank you Corporal, Master Chief Spartan-117, out," He replied. Cortana would have told me that the Chief thought to himself. But Cortana had been called out to The Supreme Admiral's ship in orbit. He felt as if a part of him was missing.
He pushed the thoughts aside and began to ponder where they should move next. They had stonewalled the Covenant in the North West, and the Covenant had lost well over ten-thousand troops in the war on Earth. And humanity had lost about thirteen-thousand soldiers. He was very suprised at how well the fight was going. He had heard that the battle above the planet was going exceptionally well too, they had successfully repelled three waves of Covenant ships. The last had come a week ago, and no more after that. The Covenant troops left on Earth were stranded...and that made them all the more dangerous.
To be continued...
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