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Freddie's War by Jason Nash
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Freddie's War: Chapter One
Date: 14 May 2005, 6:17 AM
Freddie Redgum took a swig from the glass of wine that was in his hand, looking out of the tent's open door.
He smacked his lips at the taste of the wine, screwing up his face at the sour taste. The wine that was distributed to the troops in battle came only in small quantities, and it tasted really bad. Freddie only drank it for the feeling of happiness and the fact that he could drown his sorrows after drinking a lot of the wine. But the only trouble was that Freddie always woke up with a hangover in the morning.
It was the sixth day of battle on the desert world. The planet had no proper name, only the code number of 'PT-569'. Freddie's troops were beginning to call it 'Scorcher'. They were right about the name: PT-569 was a darn hot planet.
Freddie and his division were camped in a small valley surrounded by slopes and ridges. THey were camped next to a small structure where lookout's had been placed. A large mounted machine gun was on top of the structure.
Freddie stared out of the tent, knowing that out there somewhere waited a whole pack of Elites and Jackals accompanied with a few Hunters.
Battle had been fierce in the first three to four days after Freddie and his division had landed on the planet. Their objective had been to regain control of a Human colony which had been invaded by the Covenant. But the operation had gone wrong from the start.
Freddie and his troops had been dropped into the Insertion Point outside of the valley. They had been tracked down by the Jackals as soon as they touched the ground, resulting in the deaths of three troops and two other troops in Freddie's division had been badly injured.
They had retreated into the valley on the second day, resulting in the deaths of two other troops. Freddie had ordered camp to be set up in the valley, and so, after a few days of hardly any fighting, Freddie sat in his tent now, trying to get drunk.
Freddie was considered as a bit of a weirdo amongst his division, as he would always wear the same red striped white shirt and the same blue striped white pants, even in battle. He slept with teddy bears and talked to them as if they were real animals.
Freddie knew what his troops thought of him, but didn't care. He was happy about the kind of person he was, which was a happy-go-lucky division commander. Freddie had been in many battles and done tough decisions, and rumor has it that he is the way he is because he made the decision to leave his brother to die in battle fifteen years ago. But that's only a rumor, so presumably it's not true.
Freddie stood up in his tent, half-drunk and belching loudly. He stepped outside his tent and walked up the stairs and on top of the small, stone structure. It was round with pointy bits of stone sticking up along the edges.
A lone troop, Private John Flecker, was standing by the mounted machine gun, dressed in full battle gear. He saluted Freddie as he walked over to him.
"Report, Private!" Freddie said to the Private.
"No sight of the enemy yet, sir!"
"Well, if you see any of them, remember to yell out first, and then shoot. Don't shoot and then yell out, you'll just get seen and killed."
"Yes, sir!"
John turned back to looking out at the valley. Freddie sat on a stool which a troop had placed on the structure, and Freddie then started gulping down more wine.
John watched Freddie drown his sorrows. John shook his head. John at first didn't believe the story of Freddie leaving his brother to die in battle, but after a while of watching his Commander, he began to believe it. The signs were all there: talking to teddy bears, wearing stupid-looking clothes. He knew Freddie had gone totally crazy from leaving his brother to die, but didn't want to say anything.
Freddie looked at John, and John stared into those brown eyes, those eyes which had seen so many horrors of battle, so many terrible things. John turned back to watching for the enemy.
Freddie took another swig from his now nearly empty glass of wine.
Freddie, now quite drunk, wasn't drunk enough to notice how quiet it had suddenly gone.
He looked around. A high-pitched droning sound made him drop his glass of wine. It shattered on the stone surface, wine spilling all around Freddie's feet.
Freddie looked up. In the darkness of the night-sky, he spotted a small speck of green which was moving towards them. A Banshee was coming towards him, and it had fired its Fuel Rod Cannon. Freddie watched the green blast zoom towards him. He was too drunk to move, but he knew what it was.
Freddie's War: Chapter Two
Date: 21 May 2005, 6:20 AM
He was too drunk to move, but he knew what it was.
Freddie watched the blast arch towards him, the color of it illuminating the desert sand in an eerie glow. Freddie, now totally immersed in watching the blast fly towards him, didn't notice John run towards him and push him off the structure.
Freddie felt the force of John's shove, causing Freddie to stumble off his stool and fall to the ground. John followed after him. Freddie had himself winded for a few seconds, while John lay on the ground, his face buried deep in the sand.
Freddie felt the ground shake as the structure blew apart in a massive green explosion. Stone debris showered the camp, ripping holes in the sides of tents. Several of the other troops were already running around, searching the perimeter for Covenant.
The Banshee that had fired off the shot was now turning back towards the camp, ready to take a shot at the Human soldiers.
Freddie got up and too out his M6D pistol. Freddie was highly experienced in the use of firearms and a good shot as well. But being drunk changed a few things, including accuracy.
Freddie used the M6D's scope to zoom in on the Banshee. Knowing that bullets wouldn't do much to it, he aimed for the pilot. He fired off four rounds, two of them hitting their mark.
The body of a dead Elite came falling from the now pilot-less Banshee hit the ground in front of Freddie. He had managed to knock out the Elite's personal shield with the first shot and kill the Elite with a well-placed shot with the second. The Banshee crashed into the side of one of the slopes alongside the valley, exploding in a large fireball.
Freddie looked down at John, who had been knocked out cold by the fall. Landing on the ground head-first wasn't such a good idea.
Freddie looked down the valley. He and his division waited and waited, by the attack never came.
Morning came to one half of the planet of PT-569, a.k.a 'Scorcher'. The half Freddie and his division were on got the daylight, and so began another day of a stale-mate between the Humans and the Covenant.
Freddie, now just recovered from a severe hangover, stood surveying last night's attack's damage.
The stone structure, which had looked not to be built be Humans but by something else had been totally obliterated with the blast from the Fuel Rod Cannon. Only one and a half of its walls were left standing. The rest was just rubble.
Freddie, looking upon the rubble, had a few memories creep back into his head...
Fifteen years before...
The operation was supposed to be simple: They land, ambush the small group of Grunts and Elites and take back the scientific lab.
Sitting in the Pelican drop-ship, Freddie stared across at his brother, who was sitting in front of him.
"Okay men, it's simple: we land, recon the Covenant forces then regroup back at Point Zero. We then spend one night planning out our attack. Then first thing the morning after, we attack," Freddie's brother explained.
Freddie looked outside. They were flying over an ocean, on their way to a coastal area. The planet they were on was called Hampson III. It orbited one of the giant Halo rings that seemed to be all over the galaxy.
Freddie and his brother had been fighting together for years, and had always stuck together. Little did Freddie know that this battle was to be his brother's last.
"Three minutes till landing, Redgum," the pilot said through the intercom.
"Alright men, prepare for action," Freddie's brother said. Everybody locked and loaded their rifles.
"Now, everybody has to look out for each other. We shall stick together until the end."
Freddie saw land suddenly appear underneath them, and heard the sound of the landing rockets being fired...
"SIR!"
Freddie felt his heart lurch. He suddenly saw a young, clean-shaven Private standing in front of him. It was Private CC Fletcher.
"Yes?"
"I just came to ask: where do you want us to put up our mounted machine gun?"
"Oh, um...put it in the middle of the rubble."
CC walked off. Freddie scratched his head, and then walked back into his tent.
Freddie checked the crate full of bottles of wine he had stowed away under his bed. There was only three bottles left, and if he conserved it, that would last him about a week. Freddie put the crate away and straightened up his teddy bear, which had slumped forward. It felt so peaceful, but Freddie knew that the battle wasn't over yet. But right now, it was time to help clean up.
Freddie's War: Chapter Three
Date: 22 May 2005, 12:22 AM
Don Groving wiped the sweat off his brow. He looked down at his S2 AM Sniper Rifle. It was getting hot in his hands, and his palms were seating. He slipped the rifle down against the rock.
Don was camped atop the valleys east side, overlooking a Covenant camp. Don was dehydrated, as he had run out of water the day before. He had a searing headache and a lot of sunburn.
He had come to PT-569 with Freddie's division, but was left behind before Freddie and his troops set up camp in the valley. He had to wander around the deserts and grassy plains, until he came across the valley. He was now surveying the Covenant camp, watching and waiting for the right moment to strike. He would then steal the Covenant's supplies for himself and try to regroup with the rest of the Human troops.
But Don was totally exhausted from sitting under an umbrella in the hot sun with only a Sniper Rifle, a can of dog food and seven boxes of Sniper Rifle ammunition with him. The sun had already dried out all the lakes on this half of the planet, so he had to go without any water, which would probably result in his own death.
It was now midday, and using his S2 AM's scope, he zoomed in on the Covenant camp. He could see about seven Elites, including a Gold Elite with a Plasma Sword, walking around patrolling the camp.
The Grunts were carrying boxes and repairing the Banshees and Ghosts, presumably ones used in the early stages of battle. One of the makeshift shanties in the camp had a Hunter standing in it, waiting for orders from its commander. Don could see its orange weak-spots clearly, so Don, without thinking, fired off two shots.
The Hunter, taken completely off-guard, fell forward in a heap, orange blood spilling all around it. The Elites suddenly stopped walking, and with their weapons at the ready, were looking around frantically for who had killed the Hunter.
The Grunts were now running about screaming. Don plugged the Gold Elite with two head shots, the first one disabling its shield while the second killing it.
Seeing the rifle bullets contrails, the rest of the Elites looked in Don's direction. They saw his umbrella sticking up above the ridge. The Elites rushed forward, Don shooting them with ease.
Don, in the middle of reloading his rifle, didn't notice the looming shadow over him.
He felt something hard and heavy slam into the back of his head and then the ground rushing up towards him, and then nothing more.
Freddie sat at the large fold-up table in the middle of the camp, eating lunch with the troops who were taking a break.
He crunched down into the roast chicken flavored bar, screwing up his face at the cardboard taste of it.
The only food they had left were substitute foods, or 'Phony Foods' as his troops like the call them. They were bars which were full of vitamins and minerals and flavored something, but all they actually tasted like was cardboard.
Freddie knew the only way to win the battle was break the stale-mate between the Humans and Covenant. And that meant a full-on counter-attack towards their camp.
He cleared his throat.
"Troops!" He called out. Several heads turned to face him.
"Troops, it's time we attacked the Covenant here in this valley and then move in to retake the Human town beyond the camp. There may be many human prisoners being tortured by the Covenant, and it is our duty to save them. So, tonight, under cover of darkness, we will attack their camp."
"But sir, a full-on attack like that would be suicide," a troop sitting at the end of the table said.
"No it wouldn't...Well; it wouldn't if we planned it out..."
"You're not even sure about this yourself, sir."
"I know, I know, but it's the only way to break the stale-mate."
"Have you got a plan sir?"
Freddie thought about that for a moment, then said, "A simple plan, yes..."
Don opened his eyes. A searing pain shot up through his legs as he tried to sit up.
Don couldn't see anything, and for a moment thought he had gone blind. But then he realized it was only the darkness of the room he was in.
He looked down at himself, and saw that his pants were cut and torn and covered in blood, his own blood. No attempt whatsoever had been made to cover up his wounds.
He tried to remember what had happened: he had managed to kill a Hunter and some Elites from his vantage point atop the ridge, then he was hit in the head by someone or something and had fell down the ridge, cutting himself in several places. He remembered seeing an Elite standing up on the ridge, laughing. Then he had woken up here.
He looked at his watch. The days on this planet lasted for seventeen hours, and at the moment, it was just after lunchtime. Don's stomach rumbled. He was hungry, and had been for the past day or two.
He got up, but his legs were hurting quite a lot, so he had to lean against the wall to help him up.
He looked around. He was in a small, enclosed room with stone walls and a heavy, locked door as its entrance and exit.
He sat back down after finding the door locked, and after about an hour of hunger and boredom, the door opened. Light from outside spilled into the room, and Don had to shield his eyes from it for a little bit. A clawed hand slid a metal tray with brown lumps of stuff and stale water in a jug inside the cell before closing the door. Don looked at it, almost spewed at what it looked like, realized he had nothing to spew up, heard his stomach rumble and began eating and drinking whatever it was.
Freddie's War: Chapter Four
Date: 28 May 2005, 8:47 AM
The midday sun shone through the gathering clouds. The clouds were a sign that PT-569's wet season was coming.
Freddie was sitting on a metal crate labeled 'AMMUNITION', drinking out of a bottle of water. He was totally bored, and so were his troops. They were all looking forward to their attack on the Covenant base happening tonight.
He looked around. Why had it suddenly gone all dark? He wondered, only to have rain start to pour down on top of him in hammering sheets. He walked back inside his tent as his troops ran around outside, trying to cover up their not-waterproof equipment in large blue tarps.
Freddie looked at his watch. 1305 hours PT-569 time. He sat in his chair in his tent and, as he always did after lunchtimes on PT-569, he started to read one out of the assortment of different kinds of magazines he had stashed under a little shelf in one corner of the tent.
The wind buffeted against his tent. He was amazed at how quickly the weather had changed: one minute it was scorching hot, the next it was pouring down rain.
Freddie turned the page in the magazine he was reading. These days, most people tended to go for the electronic magazines, but Freddie still liked the old fashioned paper ones where you did something called 'turning the page', in which you turned over a sheet of paper to be met with yet another sheet of paper. The technology of this era had made many of the old way of turning pages long forgotten.
He read something about 'Salt—An Epicure's Delight' when a gust of strong wind blew over the tent next to Freddie's, which knocked into Freddie's tent, knocking over his shelf, spilling out a whole lot of electronic books. Freddie got out of his chair and went to pick them up when he saw one of the electronic books he had stashed behind all the others so he would hopefully never see it again. It was his brother's journal.
Fifteen years earlier...
The drop-ship landed, and Freddie and the troops stormed out. Freddie's brother ran ahead of the group, as it was his job to; he was the division commander.
When the drop-ship had left, they all started to slowly move forward. Freddie's brother turned to face them:
"Okay, we're three kilometers south of the Covenant base, but we're not exactly safe. Ghosts and Banshees are constantly patrolling the area," Freddie's brother explained.
The environment around them was humid and covered in thick underbrush and tall, leafy green trees. Freddie wiped the sweat that was building up on his umbrella.
"Move out!" Freddie's brother exclaimed, and they started the fairly long walk to the Covenant base.
"I figure that the Covenant on this PT-569 planet are scared about something," Sergeant Greg Walters said, taking a sip from his cup of hot tea.
"I'd say that's true. They're acting so strange and odd. It's as if they're scared; they don't usually take prisoners. Our Don Groving is their prisoner. They usually would've killed him on the spot," Captain Bob Harris added, taking a sip from his cup of hot tea.
They were in the officer's quarters of the ship Esperanto, a medium-sized military spacecraft. The white painted walls of the officer's quarters provided some contrast to the conversation.
"Research has suggested that that planet may have a few dark secrets," Walters said, taking another sip from his tea.
"Damn right. Maybe we should send a scientific team down to investigate. We've discovered a series of underground tunnels on the planet. And we should tell Freddie that the Covenant have got one of his men prisoner."
Bob ruffled his brown hair with his left hand and scratched at a rather nasty mosquito bite he had got the day before on a jungle planet he had visited to help set up an outpost. After that, he had been called aboard the Esperanto to talk with Walters about Freddie's mission.
"I say, that Freddie lad is totally mentally unstable. We should go down and remove him from the mission," Walters said.
"I'm not quite sure. Freddie is quite a nice lad. I knew him from high school."
"He wasn't a total nutter then," Walters said.
"I'm just trying to say, Freddie has good talent. He's good at what he does, and we should appreciate his help. But I suspect that he and his division are in danger: but the only question is, from what?"
"Exactly, old chap! What! What indeed!" And with that, Walters gulped down his tea and left the room.
Bob stared at his cup of tea, then he, the man who owns six mansions on every continent of the world and also owns a franchise of fitness gyms with a sporting and military background gulped down his tea and went to radio Freddie on the current situation.
Freddie himself had snapped back to reality from his flashback to hear the sound of a voice coming out of the several pieces of communication equipment lined against the inside walls of the main tent. The voice played out across the camp:
"To all UNSC personnel: This is a message from Captain of the UNSC military ship, Esperanto, Bob Harris. To all UNSC personnel on the planet known as PT-569: you are in immediate danger. This is not a drill: There is a threat other than the Covenant on the planet. You should all try to hold your ground while we send in a scientific team to investigate..."
(Note: This is to all those people out there who think Freddie is a Spartan. He is not a Spartan, otherwise I would have said so earlier in the series.)
Freddie's War: Chapter 5
Date: 29 May 2005, 6:35 AM
Don was cold. Very cold. The dark, dank cell he was locked up in had absolutely no heating or air-conditioning whatsoever, and only had a faint, dim light in the corner.
He could hear rain pattering down onto the roof of the building. A cold draft blew in from under the door and through the small grating in one of the walls.
A few hours had passed since he had been captured. He was quite sure that the Covenant didn't usually take prisoners, but after some thinking on the subject, he just considered himself lucky.
Don looked at his watch. He couldn't see it, so he moved his arm under the light. It was 1327 hours.
He had just finished his lunch of brown muck and stale water. Whatever had been in that stuff, it was making him feel drowsy.
Don got up, his legs aching underneath him. He moved over to the grating in one of the walls and tried to peek through, but he couldn't see anything.
He was too drowsy to try to break through the grating, so he slumped back down against the wall.
He sat there for another five minutes, and then realized that a rather large rock was digging into his back.
He got up and looked at the roc. It was sticking out from just underneath the wall. He bent down and yanked at it.
It moved only slightly. He yanked it again. It came out completely. Behind it was a small hole.
Figuring that that this may be his only means of escape, Don began digging at the hole with his bare hands.
Eventually, it became bigger enough for him to crawl through. He dived into it and started digging at the dirt that was in front of him. It opened up into a small tunnel with hand-built which lead deeper into the ground.
Don crawled through it. The tunnel was big enough for him to stand up. He got up and started walking. The tunnel twisted and turned, leading deeper and deeper underground.
"The attack has had to been canceled," Freddie said to all his troops who had gathered in the main tent.
"But what was Captain Bob talking about, exactly, sir?" Private John Flecker asked.
"He said he wasn't sure."
"Then how does he know about the planet?"
"There have been people on here before we came," Freddie explained, "Mostly the people who lived in the colony here that the Covenant attacked."
"What about this scientific research team?"
"They're coming tomorrow. I was told to send four of my troops, including myself, to accompany them. And I've already chosen who's going to accompany them. And those people are:
"Private John Flecker.
"Private CC Fletcher.
"Sergeant George Cooper. And I will be coming as well. Everybody else will have to stay here."
After everybody had left the tent, Freddie went back out to his tent to have a bottle of wine.
Meanwhile, waiting by a tall, pointy tree, Sergeant Greg Forsythe and two other Privates were on duty, watching for any Covenant that may try to attack.
Greg was a rather muscular man who done exercises every night and was good friends with Captain Bob Harris.
He pulled out a box of cigarettes and shoved a cigarette into his mouth and lit it. He puffed on it and noticed a number of rather bright lights speedily heading towards him. They were Plasma bolts fired from a Ghost which was also speeding towards them.
Greg dived towards the pointy tree as the Plasma bolts zoomed past and blew up an overturned Warthog which was behind them. The Ghost sped past them, its pilot throwing a Plasma Grenade as it drove past. The Grenade stuck on one of the Private's hair. He was ripped apart by a rather large explosion of Plasma.
Greg pulled out his MA5B Assault Rifle and pointed it at a Banshee which was flying over them. He pumped it full of hot lead, but it didn't really do much to the Banshee.
A whole lot of Elites suddenly ran up on top of a small hill in the middle of the valley and a hail of Plasma peppered the ground around Greg.
He discarded his MA5B for a S2 AM his dead Private had dropped and zoomed in on a Gold Elite which was holding a Plasma sword and heading the pack. He fired off four rounds, and the Elite fell, groaning, in a heap.
The other Elites all aimed for Greg. A whole lot of Plasma bolts headed towards him. Greg got up and began to run. A blast hit him in the leg. He fell forward; his S2 AM flying out of his hands.
He screamed in pain and anger and took out a Fragmentation Grenade and threw it at the oncoming Elites. The explosion sent two Elites flying forwards.
Greg took out an M6D and started shooting at the rest of the Elites, killing one. He then got up and started to limp his way back to the camp.
Freddie blasted an Elite with his Shotgun as it ran into his tent. Another one came in, but Freddie made short work of it.
His troops had been completely taken off guard by the Covenant's attack. His troops seemed to be faring well with the Covenant, but they were totally outnumbered and outgunned. It would be a hard fight.
Freddie stepped out of his tent as a Plasma Grenade landed next to him.
Freddie's War: Chapter Six
Date: 1 June 2005, 7:10 AM
The Grenade stopped rolling. With only seconds to react, he ran to the side and dived behind a pile of metal crates. The Grenade exploded, demolishing Freddie's tent and destroying all the electronic books and bottle of wine he had stashed in it.
Outside, a rather nasty looking Elite walked over to him and took out a rather nasty looking Plasma Sword. Freddie hit it across the head with his Shotgun. Blue blood splattered all over him, and the Elite reeled backwards, and then fell onto a pile of metal crates. They fell down all over the ground, their contents spilling open.
Some contained weapons; others contained ammunition for weapons while others contained First Aid gear. Freddie picked up a packet of Shotgun ammunition and shoved it onto his belt.
A Banshee flew over, bombarding the camp with Plasma bolts. Some of the tents caught on fire and burning troops ran screaming out of them, setting fire to everything else.
The Banshee turned around and headed back for the camp, and dived towards an area where Freddie was standing. Freddie had a clear shot at the pilot, and so, taking up the opportunity, he quickly fired off three shells at it. Most of the pellets hit their mark.
The pilot, a Commander Elite, fell out of the Banshee and hit the ground, blue blood spilling all around it. The Banshee slammed into the ground and started sliding through the camp. It knocked over two tents before coming to a stop after running over a small group of Grunts.
Freddie ran over to the main tent and caught two Elites standing over the equipment inside it and trying to read all the messages that had been sent to the camp. Freddie blasted one while he hit the other. He then took out a fire extinguisher from a compartment under one of the tables and ran outside, spraying the nearest burning tent with foam to smother the flames.
At the same time, Private John Flecker and Sergeant Greg Forsythe were trying to protect the camp's electricity generator from a rather mean bunch of Elites.
They were crouched behind a burning Ghost which John had blown up with a well placed grenade a few minutes earlier.
Three Elites were crouched behind some crates ten meters in front of them. They were rapidly firing their Plasma Rifles and Needlers at John and Greg.
John and Greg fired back, but with less effect due to their weaker Human weapons.
They had been trying to protect the generator for most of the battle, and that would be abruptly ended by a misplaced Grenade and a rather angry Hunter.
John, taking aim with his SMG managed to, under continuing fire, take out one of the Elite's shields, making a lot more vulnerable to attack.
Greg, with his S2 AM, shot dead that same Elite.
And a badly injured Private suddenly ran out into the middle of them with a Grenade in his hand. He screamed just before a Needler needle exploded on his head, cracking open his skull. He dropped the Grenade, which rolled down the uneven ground and stopped against the side of the generator.
The generator then exploded in a great fireball with the occasional electricity bolt flying through the air.
"Ah, no!" John shouted.
Their problems weren't quite over. The massive bulk of a Hunter came into view. Greg shot at it, one of the bullets he fired scraping one of the Hunter's orange, meaty bits. This angered the Hunter, and groaning in pain, it fired its Fuel Rod Cannon and John and Greg, with hardly any time to react, got up and started to run, only to be sent flying towards the burning generator by the force of the explosion.
The camp was a total battle-zone now. Most of it was on fire, but Freddie had managed to put out most of the fires.
The Covenant seemed to be losing the battle, since all their Ghosts and Banshees had been destroyed and most of their Elites were dead with one of their two Hunters injured. The Humans, however, had only lost five troops with two injured.
Freddie, at the moment, had a half-dead Hunter to deal with.
They were standing outside the Medical Tent, and Freddie was armed only with a Shotgun with three shells left and a fire extinguisher while the Hunter had a Fuel Rod Cannon and its sheer strength.
Freddie had dealt with Hunters many times before, but most of those times has had to run away to save his life. This time he wouldn't do that, this time he was determined to win.
The Hunter lunged at him, its massive shielded arm coming forward. Freddie jumped backwards out of its range. The Hunter, missing its target, lunged again. Freddie jumped backwards and pumped its meaty orange bits full of lead. The Hunter staggered, and Freddie now only had a fire extinguisher to help him. His Shotgun had no more ammo left for it.
Freddie sprayed the Hunter with foam from his fire extinguisher. Its head was now completely covered in the stuff. Now that it couldn't see, it started to run around waving its arms about wildly.
Freddie slammed the fire extinguisher into the Hunter's meaty orange bits. The fire extinguisher dented, but it had done its job.
The Hunter fell forwards, dead. Freddie stepped out of its way, as it would've fallen on him otherwise.
Most of the Covenant was dead now, and with only a few straggler Grunts left, Freddie walked off to help with getting rid of those few Grunts.
Freddie's War: Chapter Seven
Date: 12 June 2005, 6:37 AM
Captain Bob Harris stood by the shuttle as the scientific research team walked towards him.
The hangar was small and could only hold two shuttles. Bob looked at the scientific research team as the hurried over to him. They were all dressed in safari gear while a plump man with a cigar in his mouth was dragging along a large crate full of scientific equipment.
The head of the team walked over to Bob.
"Captain?"
"Yes?" Bob said, spitting out a piece of cashew which had been stuck between his teeth since his last meal which was an half an hour ago. The piece of saliva soaked cashew landed next to the scientist's boot. The scientist flinched.
"I'd like to introduce me to my team," the scientist said, turning around. There were five of them in total, six if you included Bob.
The scientist pointed to the plump man pulling along the equipment.
"That's equipment manager Ramon Steldered," the head scientist said. Ramon nodded. The scientist then pointed to a tall man with who was looking at a clipboard that was in his hands.
"Henry McGillian."
Henry looked from the clipboard at Bob. The head scientist then pointed at a woman with long black hair who was reading an electronic book about Physics.
"Lisa Turner."
The head scientist then pointed to an old man wearing glasses.
"That's Sir Hughes."
Hughes was busy looking out the hangar's entrance and out at the amazing display of stars and nearby planets.
The head scientist turned back to Bob. He said, "I'm Joe Garland. I'm head of the scientific unit of the team, obviously." He put out his right hand to shake hands with Bob. Instead of shaking hands, Bob turned to the shuttle and told the pilot to open the shuttle's cargo compartment.
"Load your stuff in there," Bob told the scientific team, and then walked away.
Freddie was sweeping up a pile of ash which was all that was left of a young Private when he felt somebody tap him on the shoulder. He turned around and saw John Flecker standing behind him.
"Fred, you may want to see this," John said.
"See what?"
"Just follow me."
Freddie put down his broom and followed John through the wreckage of the camp, over a slight rise of the ground, past the wreckage of a burnt out Scorpion tank and onto a grassy part of ground near a ridge. Two Marines were standing near a pile of large rocks, looks of surprise and shock on their faces.
"These guy's found it when they went out to collect water from the spring over there," John said, pointing over to a small pool of water twenty meters away.
They walked over to the pile of rocks. A rock had fallen out of place to reveal half buried human skeletons, their skulls smashed open from the inside and a mucus-like substance hanging off them. Freddie saw them ad felt his heart leap forward in shock.
"What the?" He said, staring at the skeletons.
The skeletons had their bones strewn over the sand under the rocks, and Freddie counted five smashed skulls, but knew there were more, but they were hidden under the rocks.
"What happened to them?" Freddie asked John.
"We don't know. When that scientific team arrives we'll get them to take a look at one of the skeletons and analyze a sample of that mucus-like substance. But they look like they've been there a while," John answered.
Freddie stared at the skeletons and his heart beating heavily and quickly, he stepped away from them. He then pushed a rock off the pile, revealing more bones and smashed skulls covered in the gooey substance. He didn't remove anymore rocks, just in case whatever had smashed the skulls of those deceased people could jump out at him.
"Could this be what Captain Bob Harris was talking about?" One of the Marines asked.
"Possibly," Freddie said, walking away.
The shuttle containing the scientific team and Bob took off out of the hangar, zooming through space at very high speeds.
Inside, Bob was sitting with the team, drinking out of a bottle of Coke and not taking any part in the team's conversations. He only spoke when Henry McGillian asked him a question.
"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for on PT-569, Captain?" He asked.
"I don't know. All I know is that it's probably lurking about somewhere in the hand-built network of caves running underneath the planet's surface," Bob answered, finishing his answer by belching loudly.
Henry turned away from Bob and started speaking to Lisa. Bob took another swig from his bottle of Coke and looked around. He noticed that Ramon was looking in the box of equipment, as if checking something was in there. He watched as Ramon moved a box-like object with buttons on it over and pulled out an M6D pistol.
"What's that for?" Bob asked.
"Insurance."
"For what?"
"I heard what we are supposed to be looking for was dangerous," Ramon said, loading the pistol. He pulled back the slider on top of the gun, the bullets now ready to be fired.
"You'll have protection from four highly experienced Marines, and me also," Bob said.
"I do not care. I can do what I want." And with that, Ramon slided the pistol into a waist holster.
(Note: I know this may be straying away from Halo a bit, but this story was inspired by Halo, so technically it's still a Halo story).
Freddie's War: Chapter Eight
Date: 6 August 2005, 6:53 am
John went over to the rocks where the skeletons were and with a small knife, he smeared some of the mucus-like substance onto a piece of scientific glass and put it into a small zip bag. He then strolled back to camp with the sample and went into the research tent at the camp. The research tent was one of the only tents left standing after the battle a day or so before.
He walked over to a piece of complicated machinery in one of the tents and placed the sample in a freezer next to it. As he opened the freezer, cool white steam billowed out and revealed an empty shelf inside the freezer. He placed it on the shelf and closed the freezer.
John was an easygoing person and a close friend of Freddie. John was only starting in his military career and was only considered a small fish in the big pond. But that was about to change soon…
Bob Harris looked out the window of the shuttle. He could see the desolate shape of PT-569 up ahead, growing bigger as they came closer.
Ramon checked his pistol once again and then put it back into his waist holster. He seemed addicted with checking the weapon every five minutes, but then again, he did come from a tough background.
Bob had read Ramon's file and had learnt that his parents were killed in an accident involving a can of dog food and a badly thrown grenade. He had then gone to a life of crime, being a petty thief. But when he was caught, somebody had recruited him into the military to help with the Human/Covenant war. He was given an education and after a few battles went on to study a course on researching extra-terristrial life-forms.
Now Bob was beginning to have suspicions about him. The way he acted, and the fact he was bringing a weapon along for the ride.
Bob's thoughts were broken by the sound of the pilot's voice over the intercom:
"Fifteen minutes till landing. Please make sure all seat-belts are on and fastened properly."
Bob checked his seat-belt. It was clicked in.
The shuttle picked up speed and began to speed towards the planet, the heat of its atmosphere against the shuttle made the interior of the shuttle glow an orange tinted red color. The climate control immediately kicked in at the increase of temperature and released a cool jet of air from a grating in the ceiling of the shuttle. The team was checking their equipment, until a sudden lurch of the shuttle sent the crate that Ramon was looking after sliding across the floor and slamming into the wall, spilling out its contents of First Aid Kits and complicated devices.
"What was that?" The pilot asked through the intercom.
"The crate. It wasn't strapped down," Ramon answered, undoing his seat-belt and standing up.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Sit down!" Bob said.
Ramon gathered up the equipment into the crate and strapped it to the floor and then sat back down.
The shuttle's landing rockets came on, just as the hull of the shuttle was peppered with Plasma fire from a Shade turret on top of a ridge in the valley.
"Crap! We're under fire!" The pilot shouted.
The ship zoomed over the valley, Plasma blasts leaving colorful marks on its hull. One blast hit one of the shuttle's rockets. The rocket stopped working and sent the shuttle in a wild spin.
"We've lost engine No. 3!" The pilot shouted.
Henry McGillian, one of the team's members, started muttering a prayer.
The shuttle was hit by another blast, this one smashing the cockpit's window and creating a mess of the pilot.
"Pilot, land us by the camp!" Bob said. There was no answer. Instead, blood was seeping out from under the door into the cockpit.
"Ah…" Sir Hughes began, before the shuttle crashed into a tent at Freddie's camp, sending two beds and a shelf along with four tent posts flying all over the place.
Bob seatbelt snapped and he went sprawling across the floor before hitting his head on the wall. Everything, for him, went black.
"Aaaaaaaagh!"
The scream echoed across the camp. John, who was having a drink of water, heard the scream and went running to where it had come from. It had come from the research tent.
John ran into the tent and found Freddie already there, looking down at the body of a marine. The freezer was wide open.
Freddie heard John come in and turned around to face him.
"I saw it happen," Freddie said, obviously shocked. "There was a banging sound coming from inside the freezer, so Tony here opened it. The sample of slime you collected had oozed out of its bag and jumped out at his face. It suffocated him."
John looked down at the body. The hardened form of the slime was covering the marine's face, blocking all breathing areas. Something bad was going on, and he was determined to find out what. And then after that, the team's shuttle crashed.
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