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Saturn's the Best! ÝÝÝÝÝThen I looked at an uneasy marine sitting opposite from me. "Damm, you look fried there son. Why don't they just stick a flak jacket and and a helmut to you marines. You got steel plates on your chest. The aliens don't got teflon bullets. Heck, they don't even have bullets!" ÝÝÝÝÝThe Terrans were always dumb in my eyes. They just had big pieces of no good scrap metal floating in space and a bunch of high-school kids with big guns and armor. They risk their lives too much. ÝÝÝÝÝSaturn is a whole new world compared to Earth. We originally seperated due to overpopulation and differing philosophies. Now, we are two seperate worlds but still interact with eachother. Saturn has a slightly different but strong government, judicial system, economy and moral/human regard. We don't take much liking to liberals, communists, fascists, and other social degenerates; they pollute Earth instead. ÝÝÝÝÝWe wage war differently, but we have never fought eachother. We are each somewhat fond of the other. Our economies and safety depend on eachother. Saturn specializes in the ever advancing world of agriculture and transgenic crops in addition to artificial intellegence and man-made worlds. We are renowned for our development of explosive projectiles and energy weapons that even rivals Covenat technology. The terrans, however, provide the backbone of all military protection in our galaxy with their flagships and armies. We constantly trade ideas and advancements; Saturn has put much pressure on Earth-based factories to produce mechanized units rather than train more marines. ÝÝÝÝÝOur way of war includes putting robots where humans normally die, but that doesn't mean disecting a kid and putting robotic arms on him. Humans with realistically functioning weapons, munitions, and vehicles are employed to back up the front line. Saturians still hold a higher moral and ethical status when it comes to advancement. We do exploit space by placing satellites with "big lasers" in several galaxies though. ÝÝÝÝÝCongress recently called all reservists on Saturn's moons and platforms to duty. "We have declared that despite being quite different from the terrans, saturians and terrans and both HUMAN. Humanity is gettin it's head slapped in another galaxy. It's time to assist our brethren." ÝÝÝÝÝRight now, there are three satelites floating somewhere in the center of this giant hula-hoop scrapin' aliens all over. Damm, where would these people be without Saturn. This is the beginning of our involvement here and humanity's comeback. The Brethren of Saturn, Chap. 1 - Direction of the Platform I spun around looking for my first officer. "Take us into orbit, Mr. Radi." Engineering, in their blue jumpsuits monitored the core and completed inspections on the nuclear fusion reactors. The two dark red security teams casually patrolled the bright corridors and placed medical kits, emergency weapons, and fire extinguishers near lifts and stairways. Docking crews in neon orange mopped the landing bay and inspected the dropships. The four doctors of sickbay and their androids sterilized utensils and took care of an electrician who slightly burnt himself. The chef, his assistant, and the janitor cleaned tonight's dishes and tables and decided on a menu for tomorrow. Recent studies have, ironically, chosen a projectile design that was first discovered in the 20th century AD. Teflon, the material that coats the airfoil, was also chosen over modern alloys. Blockade techs like these even use shield tactics similar to that of the Roman Army of Earth several centuries earlier. Guard dogs are employed just like the ones used during the human wars of Earth. The rifles of the marines have advanced over time but are based on the basic dependencies of the 20th century gun. Meanwhile, I faced a control board towards the front of the Bridge and activated the onboard AI. "LattÈ, when Mr. Ovruchesky and Mr. Radi return here, please tell them both about GOS 7." The Brethren of Saturn, Chap. 2 - Battleground Materializing The chef leaned over the counter with his white gloves and spatula. "Can I get you anything captain, a waffle, sausage, cereal, oatmeal, eggs?" Good food was a luxury that the destroyer Duspos did not have, so my cruiser smuggled extra crates of oatmeal, onions, and Tabasco onboard before we reached the platform for our 'first' stock up. When we are scheduled to rendezvous with the Terrans, those crates will be theirs. "Um, yeah, can I get a jelly waffle along with my coffee?" "Anything else?" "No thanks. And, uh, what's for dinner and what alcohol do we have left?" "There's going to be Alaskan Cod and the usual sides. "I want you to cook that fish with some beer, well pick some up at the platform." "Sure. Your coffee is ready." Walking through brightly lit corridors, I made my way to the bridge. A door whizzed shut behind me and the automated security door in front of me slowly opened. A young bridge guard named Fred snapped his boots together and saluted. "Good morning captain, ATTENTION ON DECK!" Everyone swung their heads back and looked awkwardly towards the entrance. "Good morning sir," they slowly called. "God, Fred. You really don't have to do that for me; all I ask for is basic respect and damm good listening skills from you people. But thanks crewman. You want a cigarette?" "Um, no thanks. My mom wouldn't want me smoking." Walking towards the front of the room, I extinguished my cigarette on the thick surface of my dark trench coat. I activated the onboard AI from a control board and watched a blue hologram materialize before me. "Hey there LattÈ, have a good sleep?" "Once again, I don't sleep. Oh, and you know what? A system coordinator from Fleet Headquarters came last night to change my serial number and name because some other stupid AI had the same name before I was created. He said it would cause to much confusion if I was LattÈ, so now I'm Gerr, serial number 91915." I had not realized that my easy nature had reduced the crew's discipline, even the AI's, so extremely low. My AI said "stupid". But I was not disappointed, a relaxed and bonded crew always operated better than strangers. "You know, Gerr, that's not such a bad name. I won't miss your old one; I've only met you and your name two days ago. At least you're not coffee." "Yeah, I'm not coffee." "Ok, then. How are we so far?" "Our ship is proceeding at 52 knots towards the platform, we will arrive in eighty seconds. The Aleksander has already broken off for Geneva." A communications officer tuned around in his seat to face me. "Sir, we are being hailed by the Exxon. Should we accept?" "Yes. Load it up." From a larger projector, a platform technician appeared with a headset. "Good morning Conclave, you are here for a scheduled load up." A young navigator snapped back, "Yeah, that's right." Several minutes later, a small cargo transport docked in the main hangar and crews of shipmen unloaded crates of food and racks of missiles. It exited after about twenty minutes and my cruiser docked at a platform bay. Here, remote controlled hoses locked onto ports on the starboard and replenished supplies of oxygen, several other gasses, nuclear fuel, and engineered water. The hoses snapped off and were reeled back after they finished. I faced the technician's image again and smiled. "Thanks for the goodies and beer. We're blastin' outa here and into battle so wish us luck." The projector's lenses shut and opened again as Gerr's image transferred from the smaller projector. "Gerr, make sure all valves are secure and that docking force fields are at maximum. Also get on the intercom and tell docking crew to load the torpedo hatches with concussion missiles. Get all designated personnel into their battery turrets. Have security on active duty and dim the lights for the jump." "Mr. Radi prepare us for jump to the rendezvous sector and start countdown in three minutes, I'm sure you can handle the coordinates. Help me supervise the navigators and make sure we don't stray off course. Mr. Overuchesky, supervise engineering to make sure the engine works properly throughout the jump. When you're done with that, get all the troops in lines near their dropships and give them some advice or a prayer, I don't know, anything. All you personnel on the bridge, do your jobs and if you need help, ask either Mr. Radi or myself. Private-, Fred, grab a seat, this could be shaky." The Brethren of Saturn, Chap. 3 - Deployment And Assault "This is Majik reporting, our vessel is armed and our Clapers are deployed. Hewletts await deployment." "Duspos, vessel ready, Longswords deployed. Preparing for surface assault." A com technician to my left held down a button and lifted a small microphone to his mouth. "Conclave reporting, vessel armed and ready, Hewletts preparing for deployment." Suddenly, an image appeared on the primary projector. "This is Faber, captain of the Obsidian. All onboard AIs, please project my post in your war rooms for further commands. We are proceeding within the active sector and have all fighters and bombers sweeping the atmosphere for transmissions. There are currently no fighters escorting our vessels, so I expect every gun battery and turret within this formation occupied and ready to scrap aliens. Conclave and Duspos, proceed ahead to meet any Covenant threat. I will give the initiation order for a surface assault in ten minutes, so get all landing craft loaded and standing by." "All right, people, you heard him. Fire up the PCC and get ahead." I turned towards my prided officer, Mr. Radi. "I need you to supervise artillery from here and keep in constant communication with the gun decks, we can bet on hostile space. Get the UFD array up now." "And Gerr, get on the intercom and get all marines to the docking bay on the double, this is an combat situation. Keep missile rooms busy once we open fire. I want the torpedo hatches as active as possible." "Artillery! Charge up the EMP and get ready to punch some buttons. Eyes and ears, this is no drill!" In the background of the tension, Gerr savagely blared with urgency over all the speakers. "Get to your stations you metal heads, we're going to sautÈ some alien ass and send it home to their parents slash guardians!" Mr. Overuchesky yelled at the frantic soldiers. "Get into SINGLE-FILE lines in front of your designated Hewlett with all your stuff!" Fortunately, the marines had prepared most of their equipment and their weapons the night before and only had to affix their helmets and adjust visors. The techs instead were already sitting with their shields and cyclones inside their dropship since this morning, apparently going offline and waking up prepared. Pilots, casually as always, climbed into their cockpits and slapped high-fives with docking personnel. Their many tours required thick nerves and clear thinking under adversity, and they had become accustomed to the prewar anxiety. "Alright marines, we're going to war. Some of you have been yearning for action, and I can't guarantee you'll like it. This is serious, and you CAN die. I want all of you to make sure you have your extra mags with you. Switch your safety now but don't turn on the vibration for your bayonets until you land. The first thing you do when you land is to get behind the techs, and drag anyone injured with you. You will be intentionally dropped into distress zones, so you will be under fire the second you step out. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself, that's what Churchill said whether you know him or not. Keep an open mind and say your prayers. Be logical; don't let your emotions kill you. Remember, you are volunteers and defenders of humanity. Two worlds rest upon you, and the best race I know. Make me proud. Are you ready to scrap some aliens?" "SIR, YES, SIR!!!" "Then get your ass in there! CHARGE!" The marines and canine trainers filed into their craft and secured themselves. The dogs had special harnesses outfitted for their security. The soldiers sat anxiously, many whispering different prayers in various languages. The young-minded marines tried to lift a leg or arm to kiss their lucky charms or tags. The optimistic marines cracked anti-liberal jokes to break the tension. "Sir, we have three inbound enemy vessels. They haven't spotted us yet. The formation array is keeping us off their scans. The Clapers found a battle and the chief has given the strike code. He's calling back the Clapers from bomber escort, they're on the way to help us out." I peered towards the projector to find Gerr's flickering image while the AI was busy processing information and supervising operations. "Gerr, we are now on red alert so start the wonderful lights and sounds. Clear docking and lower the fields, all Hewletts should be airborne in thirty seconds." "Sir, EMP disruptor at maximum. Missiles are armed and ready." "Radar stations report multiple Seraphs closing in quickly! They must have had scouts patrolling the area. They'll get here before the Clapers." "Fire the EMP now, before our fighters get here. Launch all missiles at the closest capital enemy signature." "EMP launched, enemy shields down! Missiles one, two, three, four, five, six away! Next six off in three seconds!" I turned away from the row of scrambling technicians to check up in the right side of the bridge. "Mr. Radi, keep our missiles launching. Waste as many enemy ships as possible and ignore the Seraphs. The turrets can handle the smaller ones." "Gerr, you just keep on directing the batteries and get Mr. Overuchesky to wherever you need help." Turning to my left again, I addressed Gerr's shouting. "Sir, gun decks two and five damaged! Deck six is critical!" "Sir, incoming projectiles! They're hot and closing, eight hundred meters. "Fire counter pods." "Pod missiles away! Contact in seven, three, two, one. Two boogers are still live and closing. Three hundred meters! "Evasive maneuvers!" "Alpha Red, this is Orange Leader. Break off and sweep around the Majik, we'll take the left." "Rodger that Orange, we have engaged Covenant fighters." A squad of eight Clapers broke formation and flew abreast. They made a run along the lower hulls of the carriers and sprinted on to protect the less defended Conclave and Duspos, shooting any Seraphs along the way. Several more squads that originally escorted the Longswords appeared seconds later and swept with grace around the vessels. Turrets and batteries that were still operational ferociously blazed with lasers and gunfire, occasionally damaging engines and sending Seraphs spinning to their doom. The human vessels continued launching volleys of missiles and firing MAC guns, hoping to ensure that the marines and pilots would have a home to return to by the end of the day. The Brethren of Saturn, Chap. 4 - Isolated Fury The Covenant by now regained their defensive potential yet both sides had lost equal amounts of troops during the firefight. Needles slithered towards the crowd of riflemen and their android defenders, harmlessly rippling shields. But despite the small haven, the soldiers were isolated and desperate for assistance. The injured were dragged behind boulders where they were drugged and bandaged to await cell regeneration from Terran medics. The plasma fire had stopped for several minutes. Apparently the aliens had decided to change tactics, making them even more unpredictable. Somewhere behind the concrete emplacements hid enemies, ready to strike. The techs moving to stand abreast, began a steady march towards the Forerunner structure where the Covenant resided. With rifles aimed from behind small cavities between the shields, the humans stood ready to mutilate Covenant flesh. The vibrating bayonets broke the methodical silence with a humming similar to an electric razor. Seventy meters from the structure, an elite followed by three grunts appeared from behind a fallen tree and charged towards the mobile barricade with weapons rapidly firing. Within seconds, near-silent swooshing sounds came from the techs as two airfoils ripped through the chest of the elite; blue blood spurted from the perfectly circular cavities. Rifles released single-shot rounds into the grunts, instantly killing the small aliens. Moments later, a glowing grenade was noticed clinging to a shield but exploded before anything could be done, ejecting all cybernetic and several organic bodies above the pack. A few marines grasped their scarlet faces and shrieked. 'My eyes! I'm gonna die!' The healthy marines panicked and jumped for cover behind the boulders. Moments after diving, a young marine realized he abandoned his brothers and left them to die. Plasma bolts rang from innumerable positions and silenced the young soldier who dashed back. He slowly collapsed and lay in the blood of his mortally wounded comrades, his eyes coldly peering sideways at the boulders. Another grenade exploded a few meters back, shattering the rock where the injured leaned and silenced them. The Covenant had slaughtered cherished comrades before their eyes, and the handful of soldiers that remained regained their combat mentality and flew into a rage. They rushed out and leaped from their safety with guns aimlessly pumping. Sprinting with blind ferocity towards the aliens, not one ounce of humanity resided in the sincere minds of the young men. They need not express any towards human-killers. No man succumbed to surrender or call for evac, despite knowing this was a battle destined to be lost if continued. The elites, always fearless and honorable, took the opportunity to fight close up and stopped firing. A transparent ripple accompanied by energy blade charged with a dozen other elites. Both crowds became increasingly closer to contact, neither side slowing down or retreating. The muzzles of rifles continued to blaze as the riflemen dashed forward, occasionally tearing a limb off or slowing down a closing aggressor. The pack of screaming humans rapidly exhausted their magazines and leveled their rifles for the final twelve meters. Upon collision, a few men did not get up. The cloaked leader was the first to kill and the first to be bayoneted. He slashed down a man seconds before being viciously gutted by several blades. Some other elites swung rifles and knocked down two men before turning to face four soldiers who had circled around to reach more targets. Of the two men, one was saved by his helmet and unsheathed a knife from his calf. After crawling to his feet, he jumped up and swung his blade around the head of the busy elite who knocked him down and sliced a gaping hole in its throat. Another elite pulled the soldier off and slammed the butt of a plasma rifle down into his skull, adding more red to the pool of blood that saturated the grass. This elite was in turn gutted by three of the four men on the other side of the chaos. More soldiers fell with bashed arms and heads and yet those still standing stabbed more aliens. The men forgot everything about combat tactics and avenged their losses up close and raging. After twenty-eight seconds of barbaric combat, two heavily bleeding soldiers fell to their knees, just after carving holes into the last elite. They lay above the bodies of the honorable, they rested above a pool of blood that was too large for the earth to absorb. Grunts were nowhere to be seen, only human cheers echoed from an opening on the other side of the small canyon. Never before had any humans attacked with such odds and accomplished their objective. This handful turned the battle around and did what they came to do, prolong the lives of the Terran marines trapped within the canyon walls. They charged knowing they were going to die and took down as many aliens as possible, pushing human potential to the limit. Several more isolated battles took place between other humans and Covenant on this day in pockets all over the ring, losing many brothers yet saving more. On this day, the brethren and their fallen comrades forced the Covenant to recalculate the human race. On this day, they proved their abilities to the Terrans, fighting fiercely and unceasingly. On this day, they defended their honor and reputation. On this day, the Brethren represented the fury of Saturn. The Brethren of Saturn, Chap. 5 - Holding The Alamo "Gerr has confirmed Covenant boarding. This main corridor is the only way the bridge. This is where communications stands, so defend it with your lives. The Terrans can't find us if they don't know we're coming. Unfortunately, -we have nothing to lose; you understand?" "Ye, yes sir," was the hollow reply. The security duos shouldered their rifles and stood behind steel barricades that unlocked and swung from the walls. The industrial barriers were intended to help protect the bridge but no one thought that they would ever be put to use. They waited silently and ready to pull several rounds off. Mr. Radi took a knee behind a crate and slid a magazine into his officer's pistol. Footsteps echoed from the left and grew increasingly closer, then suddenly stopped. Mr. Radi leveled his gun towards the entrance. He had no way of knowing who was around the corner and fumbled his mind for a phrase. "Knock-knock!" He paused for two seconds. "Respond or we will open fire!" "Who's there! Hold your fire!" A bloodied group of engineering personnel appeared from a corridor with small arms. They walked eight meters behind the current line to find crates of cereal and onions in overhangs in the walls. These crates were dragged forward and placed between the steel doors, completing the barricade. "We're slapped bad, engineering's pretty much out. Gerr locked some of the Covies in and cut off oxygen there, funny little chip. It doesn't matter if they got the core anyways, we're leaving. We got aliens all over the ship." "Kitchen staff and sickbay, do you know about them?" "Yes sir, they're running around the ship with the majority of docking, stalling the Covenant from getting to the pods. Mr. Overuchesky is still leading the defenses and says there should be just enough time for everyone to get out." Remnants of the docking crew returned from the armory with armfuls of weapons and ammunition. They dumped their loads behind the barricades and handed larger guns to the relieved faces. The engineering personnel holstered their pistols and grabbed Terran-manufactured shotguns with welcoming hands. The Saturian single-burst rifles were viewed as superior to semi-automatic assault weapons, but nothing ever beat the classic shotgun design. Fred dragged a box of grenades along the line and dispersed them evenly. The docking crew slung rifles and pocketed grenades, apparently ready to leave. Mr. Radi explained to the eleven confused defenders, "They have to secure the pods and escort the other people to them. Then they'll be back and get you guys out but we can't leave the bridge unguarded till then. This is going be systematic, bridge people gonna watch the barricade after you leave. And then they are the last ones to go." The freckled docking supervisor nodded and casually slapped Fred on the back. "Plenty of ammo and guns to go around so be sure to leave some for the bridge nerds. Don't bother going to the armory, we scraped up everything. We leave only to return so don't cry." Gunshots and shouting echoed throughout the walkways. All the corridors led to the main one, and the barricaded personnel could not help thinking it was their duty to venture out and help. "Here they come! Open fire!" Mr. Radi's order was quickly drowned by gunfire. He pulled the trigger twice, instantly knocking a grunt to its back. The security teams emptied their cartridges with deadly accuracy and neutralized several shielded jackals within seconds. The security staff never trained for anything but unarmed combat and firearm operations, all earning the title of "expert rifleman" and representing the best marksmen onboard. The others did not have a chance to fire as the Covenant rapidly realized they had walked into an ambush and backed into smaller side corridors within talking distance of the crates. After a few moments, grunts and elites jumped out at once and fired several bolts towards the emplacement. Grunts rarely used coordinated tactics and surprised the bridge defenders with immense covering fire. "I got it! I got it!" Fred had seen an elite throw grenade during the hail of fire and instinctively leaped over a crate to catch it. The glowing orb landed in his cupped hand as he raced forward. During this instant, he realized the consequence of anxiety. Movement seemed to slow down and he couldn't hear. He was drowning in panic and agreed to the next best thing, keep on running. The bridge defenders did not need to fire another round afterwards. The docking escorts returned twenty minutes later with rifles smoking and chins dripping with sweat. Their boots were stained blue as they proceeded down the main corridor and stepped in puddles of blood. Four meters later, their soles were dyed a feint purple. "Sir, Mr. Radi, I think it be best if the everyone left goes now, were almost wasted." "Yes. Communications should be done. I'll tell the captain." The Brethren of Saturn, Epilogue - A Vicious Cycle |
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