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The Containment Series by Minuteman
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Part One of the Containment Series: Protocol
Date: 9 October 2006, 7:59 pm
Delo Tulamii leaned casually against the side of the plasma turret. The light of energy torches scattered around glinted off of his black armor. As Phantoms lumbered overhead, he sighed. Sentry duty always sucked, especially when everyone else was on missions. But, as Dentramii had once put it, "Somebody's gotta do it." So tonight was Delo's turn, along with eleven others. A series of plasma turrets and sniper pods had been set up along the perimeter of the arming and refueling point. Humans weren't the concern tonight, however; oh no, tonight was Flood. Basic containment protocol dictated that before the parasite could be effectively dealt with, it had to be kept from taking the main defensive areas of the Covenant base. So, while most of his brothers were pushing back the Flood's main forces, the Containment and Defense squad had been set up to defend the main base of the Quarantine Zone from Flood attacks.
With that in mind, Delo unslung his Carbine and checked the current plug.
With a shriek, an ex-human combat form propelled itself from the shadows. Delo sent several bolts its way, and tore it in half.
Wary of future attacks, he mounted the plasma turret. it was going to be a busy night.
Protocol dictated that Enso Cordumii push back main Flood forces while C&D squads mopped any left behind. With this fact firmly implanted in his mind by the Prophets, Field Master Cordumii led his forces, mounted on Spectres, deeper into the structure. Around him plasma flew, and his personal Ghost seemed unnoticed compared to the other vehicles. That changed when a combat form attempted to board Enso's Ghost. He pulled his energy sword and managed to slice it, though the Ghost bucked and lurched. He slung the sword once more, and concentrated on regaining control of the hoversled.
It didn't work. The light recon vehicle flew into the air as a Carrier behind it exploded, and smashed into one of the distant walls.
The Ghost exploded, and Enso fell to the ground. He struggled to get up, and tasted his own blood.
He lay still as snarls surrounded him.
Delo held fast as the plasma turret bucked, and red energy sizzled through the air towards the oncoming parasitic assault. The creatures had somehow managed to acquire Wraiths, and lots of them, and the snipers were having a hell of a time trying to take down the "infantry".
With shaking hands, Delo called for air support.
Which he got.
Ten Banshees screamed above them, each one leaving their own arcing green sphere behind. The radiation energy smashed into the Flood positions, and Wraiths exploded in blue showers while Combat forms were burned to ash where they stood.
Amongst the silence, Delo stood. He unslung the Carbine, and swept the area with his scope. Through the quiet came shrieks.
Lots of shrieks.
Enso stood. Several combat forms were waiting for him. He reached for his sword-only to see it lying on the ground next to the Ghost wreckage, more than four meters away from him. He was going to have to hand-to-hand his way over there.
Fortunately, the job was enhanced by the fact that he had managed to keep two grenades throughout the crash. He utilized these, and was rewarded by corpses and one standing combat form.
He charged it, ducked the whiplike arm, and slammed into the middle. The parasite was propelled backwards, and slammed into the Ghost wreckage. This brought Enso right next to his sword, which he activated and used to cut the form in two and destroy the pod within.
Feeling victorious, he turned around in circles only to find his platoon was no longer there. Not destroyed-there was no wreckage-but simply gone. Either they had continued on, presuming him dead, or they had bugged out.
He hoped, for their sake, it was the former, and, sword ready, charged forwards into the darkness.
Delo steered himself. The Carbine had run out of plugs, and most of his men were dead. Fortunately, thjough many of the plasma turrets were gone, they had previously set up a series of automatic plasma cannons, and he utilized these to take down the onslaught.
He shouted into his radio for more support. He got no answer, and was about to call again when a whiplike arm hurled him against the wall of the AARP. He slumped to the ground-
-unconscious.
As Enso ran on, something slithered out of the dark behind him. A tentacle-a tentacle of rotting biomass, linked to several others which came up slowly behind it.
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