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The fight for Omega Centauri by Aonghus Maher
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Part 1: On Angel's Wings
Date: 17 January 2004, 6:15 PM
Holding position above the planet, glinting as it caught the light of the distant sun, the Angel's Wings was an awe inspiring sight to any who could see it. While only a comparitavly small ten kilometers what it lacked in size it made up for with firepower. Bristling with swiveling gun turrets, studded with hundreds of the hexagonical Archer missle launcher pods, carrying five Shiva nuclear warheads and, slung below the the carrier's body, the MAC, or magnetic acceleration cannon, was ready to fire. Between the black void of space and the interior of the ship was a meter of solid titanium A plating.
"And it all counts for nothing." Said captain Lucan bitterly as he went over the ship's armament in his head.
"Pardon?"
Strongbo, the Angel's Wings AI, popped into view above the hologram tank. His projected self was a broad shouldered warrior in chain mail with a quiver full of arrows and a bow slung across his back. He looked up from a large tome and the lines of code that streamed down it.
"It doesn't matter, Strongbo. How long until they arrive?"
Strongbo consulted the book in his hands.
"I estimate that the Covenant attack force will enter normal space in five minutes."
Lucan sighed and opened a COM channel to the Loki, the Hammer and the Flame of Hope, the three destroyers that also stood guard over the planet.
"Lucan here. Listen up, people. Company will be arriving in five minutes. I want all weapons ready to fire by that time."
Lucan listened to the affirmative replies before closing the COM channel.
"Weapon status?"
"All Archers are armed, the safety has been removed from one of our Shivas and the MAC is fully charged. We're ready for them, sir." Replied Lucan's second in command.
"Covenant ships entering normal space in five...four...three...two...one."
Green motes of light appeared and gathered. Suddenly there was a flash and the five Covenant ships, four frigates and a carrier, materialised in front of the four human ships.
"Course of action?" Inquired Strongbo.
"Target one of the frigates and fire the MAC."
"Yes sir."
The Angel's Wings shook as the heavy cannon fired. The projectile joined the three others that soared across the view screen. Three of them struck the same frigate, destroying the shields and splitting the hull. The fourth slammed into the frigate on the other side of the carrier. The shields took the force as the three frigates turned their side towards the human ships. Red light wan along their hulls, joining and flying off as a powerful ball of fire.
"Evasive manouvers!"
The Angel's Wings port engines blasted it sideways and out of the three plasma missiles' path. The missiles swerved around and raced back towards the ship. The Loki shot ahead of them, in front of the Angel's wings. Lucan gaped at it.
"What is he doing? They'll all be killed."
"Negative, sir. I'm reading lifeboats dropping towards the surface of the planet."
The Loki's hull melted and warped as the plasma missiles hit it. It degenerated into a ball of molten slag within seconds. Lucan turned back to the forward view screen.
"What's the MAC charge?"
"Ready to fire, sir."
"Fire at will."
Again the ship shook, this time with the cannon aimed at the frigate who's shields had already been weakened. The heavy slug struck the Covenant ship in the engines, blasting it apart. The Hammer and the Flame of Hope fired their MACs as well, both at the same target. The frigate was torn apart by the combined force.
"Fire Archer missile pods A1 to A10."
"Yes sir. Missiles away."
The missiles streamed across the intervening space, hitting the last remaining Covenant frigate and exploding with destrcutive force. The alien ship's shields glowed, repeling the attack. Lucan opened a COM channel to the Hammer and the Flame of Hope.
"Fire your missiles at the frigate. We need it destroyed."
The frigate powered up its weapon as the missiles flew towards it. It was a race of life and death. Lucan gripped the arm rests of his seat.
"Fire Archer pods B1 to C10."
Lucan's missiles joined the others as they soared towards the alien ship. The shields fell after the first two vollies. The hull held for a moment as Lucan's missiles pounded into it but then a great rent opened in it. Secondary explosions made sections of the hull bulge out before the ships superstructure gave out. Lucan shielded his eyes as the ship exploded in a minature supernova. He looked out through the forward view screen, trying to figure out what was wrong. He continued to look out through the view screen as he spoke to Strongbo.
"Didn't a carrier arrive with that force?"
"It did sir. I was just about to raise the point. One moment. Scanning for Covenant engine signatures. Oh dear."
Lucan turned his head sharply to face the AI.
"What?"
"It appears that the carrier has landed on the planet's surface."
"What?! Why?"
"I believe that they know about the hidden inteligence center."
"But if they find that..."
"They find Earth, sir." Finished the AI.
To be continued...
The fight for Omega Centauri. Part 2: At the speed of fear.
Date: 22 January 2004, 8:58 PM
"What are we lookin' for again, sarge?"
"You know Goddamn well, Walker. We're here to look for Covenant ground forces."
"What the Hell do they want with this place? Nothing here but trees and mountains."
It was an accurate statement. There were the same evergreen trees as far as the three UNSC troops could see. It was rather scenic, the animals in the trees chattering as the warthog roared by on the dirt road below. It seemed peaceful, contrary to the reports that a Covenant carrier had put down somewhere close. Walker turned in the passenger to seat and looked up at O'Neill, who was manning the 50.cal machine gun.
"What do you think, O'Neill? See anythin'?"
"All I see is you running your mouth and the sarge getting pissed at you." replied O'Neill.
Seargent Michan turned his head, glaring at Walker.
"Shut your mouth before I make you get out and walk."
"Just offerin' an opinion, sarge." said Walker, settling back into his seat.
They traveled in silence for a while. Suddenly, seargent Michan pulled the warthog up on the edge of a large trench.Walker sat up straight and brought his assault rifle to bear, ready for any attack that may come. O'Neill nervously scanned the surrounding area, worried that the Covenant might try a sneak attack. Seargent Michan slowly drove the warthog into the trench, turned left and sped on. They hadn't been driving for long before they came to a ridge. They looked down the steep slope at the huge Covenant orbital ship nestled in the dirt below and the aliens that swarmed around it. Walker slowly lowered his rifle and gazed in awe at the attack force. Michan fumbled with the radio.
"Scout team alpha to HQ. Come in, HQ."
He waited for an answer which was heralded by a short burst of static and then a calm male voice.
"This is HQ. Go ahead, scout team alpha."
"We have found the Covenant landing site. Transmitting coordinates."
"Roger that, scout team alpha. Can you tell how many troops there are from your current position?"
Michan searched for the right words. He tryed to find an official term for the huge amount of alien soldiers in the depression. Eventually he had to settle on an unofficial term.
"There's a shitload of them."
Suddenly a blue orb scythed over his head as the warthog was spotted. Michan turned the warthog around, still holding onto the radio, and sped back down the trench as five ghosts and three banshees gave chase. The radio came to life again.
"Scout team alpha, the transmission of your coordinates was cut short. Please remain still and retransmit the data."
"Negative, HQ. We are under fire and being persued. We're going to be out of contact for a while." Michan paused. He knew the man he was talking to. "Tell Sarah I'll miss her, Tom."
"I won't have to, Jake. You can tell her yourself."
"Roger that. Scout team alpha out."
Michan put the raio back into its cradle and concentrated fully on driving as O'Neill opened fire on the fast appraoching banshees. The heavy armour piercing rounds pinged off the hull of the center banshee. Eventually O'Neill scored a lucky shot and one of the aircraft's wings exploded, sending the alien craft careening into the one on its right. Both of the banshees crashed into the ground, blowing a large crater in the dirt. The last banshee opened fire, scoring the ground with a double line of fire. Seargent Michan turned sharply and ramped over the side of the trench, onto the dirt track that they had followed before entering the trench. The banshee wheeled over the trees and continued the chase while the ghosts tried to copy Michan's move. Two of them turned too early and crashed into trees with destructive force. The other three made it and followed on, spraying the road ahead with plasma bolts. O'Neill fired at the last banshee, forcing it to fall back or suffer the same fate as its comrades. Then O'Neill focused his fire on the ghosts. An elite took several bullets to the head and was sent flying from his seat, tumbling along the ground as his vehicle slowed to a halt. Suddenly a plasma bolt clipped O'Neill's shoulder. He cried out and took his hand away from the mounted gun. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the hand grip of the 50. cal with his good hand. He managed to fire off a few ronds before he was hit again, this time in the head. His head snapped back as the plasma bolt tore into it and then he slumped to the ground. Walker looked back and swore as the banshee increased it speed and gained on them. Walker turned awkwardly and opened fire, knowing that it was useless. The banshee fired its fuel rod cannon. Michan swerved right and the projectile slammed into the dirt beside them, knocking the warthog sideways. Walker and Michan were thrown free. Walker was sent crashing into a tree, his neck snapping as he struck the trunk head first. Michan stood up unsteadly as the banshee screamed by overhead. He turned as the ghosts opened fire again. Then he turned and ran, ran at the speed of fear. But it wasn't enough. He was struck repeatedly by plasma bolts and sent flying. His vision started to fade and, as luck would have it, his hand fell to a gernade at his belt. He held it up and pulled the pin as the ghosts pulled up beside him and the elites leaned over him. He dropped the gernade and smiled wearily at the sky. The last thing he saw was a flash of light and the last thing he thought of was Sarah, his love back on Earth.
The fight for Omega Centauri. Part three: assuming command
Date: 31 January 2004, 8:32 AM
"Scout team alpha? Come in scout team alpha." Comm. officer Tom Cooney turned his seat to face General Wilder. "We lost them, sir. Radio equipment is shot to hell. I don't think they're coming back." There was a lump in his throat which he quickly swallowed.
"Damn. Raise the other scout teams. Get them back here. I presume that we didn't get the co-ordinates."
"No sir. They were forced to reposition before we could get it all. We have enough to cut down the search area from fifty miles to thirty, but beyond that we have nothing."
General Wilder tugged at his trimmed, regulation length beard. He was bothered by the Covenant tactics. Every time they had found a new human occupied planet they simply glassed the planet from orbit after dispatching any UNSC ships protecting the planet. They never landed troops. Wilder's musings were cut short as a red light blinked to life at the communications station. Cooney looked at it, did a double take and then turned his seat to face General Wilder once more.
"Sir, incoming transmission from the captain of the cruiser the Angel's Wings. It's tagged as urgent."
Wilder picked up a headset and placed it on his head, adjusting the mike so that it was level with his mouth.
"Patch him through."
"Ground base, this is captain Lucan of the Angel's Wings. I want to speak to the highest ranking officer."
"This is General Wilder, sir. With all due respect, what do you want, sir?"
"I want you to move your forces to Mt. Rina."
"What? On whose authority."
Cooney looked at the display screen as it beeped for his attention. Then he swore quietly under his breath.
"Um, sir. You should look at this."
Wilder leaned over Cooney's shoulder, looking at the screen.
"Goddamn! FleetCom, HighCom and ONI authorisation. Impressive credentials, sir."
"General, it is of the utmost importance that you get to Mt. Rina. More will be explained once we can ensure that we have a secure line. One more thing, General. You will find reinforcements there."
The comm. channel went dead. Wilder took the headset off, stared at it and then threw it to the ground. He clenched his fists for a moment and then turned to Cooney.
"We're repositioning to Mt. Rina. Gather half our forces and get them ready for transport. I only want warthogs and troops. Leave the heavy ordinances here. I want them all in the courtyard by the time I finish talking."
"Yes sir."
Cooney issued all the orders. Within a half hour fifty warthogs and a hundred soldiers lay waiting in the main courtyard. Wilder looked down over them all. He could see that they were nervous and confused. He knew how they felt. He checked the ammo count on his pistol and then climbed into the driver's seat of one of the leading warthogs. He turned to the astonished marines.
"What the hell are you all waiting for? A goddamn invitation?"
The marines jumped aboard the warthogs and drove off, Wilder ahead of them all. He looked at the passenger beside him. He then looked at the name stencilled onto the front of the young black man's uniform.
"Private A. J. Johnson?"
The young man turned his head fractionally so that he could look at the general while still keeping one eye on the road ahead, holding his rifle tightly.
"Yes sir?"
"Are you nervous, private?" enquired Wilder.
"The only thing I'm nervous about is that we won't see any action on this road trip, sir."
"Ha! How long have you been in the armed forces, Johnson?"
"Few years, sir." Replied Johnson.
"And you're still a private?"
"I figure us grunts get to see the most action."
"Why did you join the army, Johnson?"
"Permission to speak crudely, sir."
"Granted."
"I wanted to blow shit up, sir."
"Ah yes. Good reason."
They drove on in silence for a while more until the motion tracker pinged. Wilder's eyes snapped down to it. It was clear. Wilder looked warily back to the road, scanning the area ahead. He grabbed the radio.
"Wilder here. Stay sharp. We've got company."
No sooner had Wilder dropped the radio than it buzzed to life again.
"Contact! Hell of a lot of Contact!"
The sound of 50 cal fire came from the back of the formation of the warthogs. A plasma grenade hissed through the air on a direct course for General Wilder. Johnson raised his assault rifle and the grenade stuck to it. Then he threw the rifle back into the bush from which the grenade had been thrown, pulling his pistol from its holster at the same time. There was a high-pitched squeal from the bush shortly before the grunt hiding there was blasted apart. Elites sprang from their hiding places and opened fire. The humans returned the favour and soon the air was full of the sound of automatic fire and the hiss of plasma weapons. Another grenade blasted Wilder's warthog onto its side. Johnson sprang up and opened fire with his pistol, directing five shots at one elite's head. The elite's shields stopped the first four but the last burst through them and implanted itself in the alien's head. There was a splash of purple blood as the elite slid to the ground. Then Johnson ducked down again. He looked to General Wilder and, seeing him trapped in the over turned vehicle, holstered his weapon and tried to pull him out. An elite poked its head over the side of the warthog, smiled and raised its weapon. Then there was a burst of automatic fire from behind it. The elite's shields shimmered as it spun and fired. Johnson pulled Wilder out and stood again. He wiped his eyes and looked again, not believing what he saw. Most of the aliens lay in pools of their own blood and the few that were still standing were soon felled by the new soldiers that had arrived. Once the last of the Covenant troops lay dead one of the new soldiers turned to General Wilder and saluted, his bulky armour not even making a whisper as it moved.
"SPARTAN 117 reporting, sir. With all due respect, we're assuming command."
The fight for Omega Centauri. Part four: Sound the alarm
Date: 10 February 2004, 8:35 PM
"Explain to me again why those fancy armoured shits can take over."
"'Cause Oni has put too much money into them to let them kiss up to guys with such a low rank as General. Bastards." Said Private Little with feeling.
"Shut up. This is an avalanche area. Keep quiet." Newly made Sergeant Johnson warned.
Johnson ran a hand over the two new stripes on his shoulder. He replayed General Wilder's words in his head.
"These men are going to be pissed at the change in management. They need someone they know to have some authority. You saved my ass by fielding that grenade for me. I'm promoting you to the rank of Sergeant as of this moment." Wilder had said.
"Hell, I liked bein' a grunt." Muttered Johnson.
"Hey," whispered Private Brown. "Anybody else hears something."
"Quite screwin' around, Brown."
"Nah, I think he's right, sarge." Sneered Private Golding. "I can't quite make it out, though. Sounds a bit like...the brass screwin' up. How come you get promoted, Johnson?"
"That's sarge to you, Private. And next time the Covenant attack you save the general's ass. That should get you a recommendation at least. Now, everyone shut up."
"What's that?" said Private Little, his voice choked with fear.
Johnson looked around. He couldn't see anything. He turned to Little, about to tell him off, when the snow behind him erupted, spewing out an elite. Johnson spun and opened fire, empting his MA5B's entire clip into the alien's shields. The shimmering veil of the shields fell and Johnson ducked. The other four soldiers took their cue and opened fire, tearing the elite apart. More aliens, including two of the immense hunters, jumped from the snow in front and behind the human patrol. Two elites opened fire on Brown, killing him in a barrage of the coloured plasma bolts. Johnson grimaced every time one the weapons made a seemingly too loud bang. He kept unconsciously glancing at the mountaintop as he fought, expecting the tons of snow to shift at anytime. Then Private Little, who always panicked under pressure, pulled the pin from a grenade and threw it.
"Fire in the hole!" she yelled.
"Mother of Christ, no!" yelled Johnson as the grenade made it's slow arc across the snow.
Somehow, either due to Little's skill or just luck, the grenade lodged itself in the barrel of one of the hunter's fuel rod cannons. The hunter shook the gun in an effort to dislodge the grenade, but to no avail. The grenade exploded, taking the hunter's arm off and destroying the fuel rod cannon. As the fuel rod cannon exploded it tore the hunter apart. The alien's shield landed end up in the snow a few meters from Johnson. Everyone froze and looked up at the mountaintop. A crack appeared in the snow and suddenly the whole thing fell away, rushing down the mountain as if eager to great the armed forces that waited there. Suddenly, Johnson snapped out of his shock. He looked around and saw a likely looking bunch of trees further down the slope.
"Move it. Get down to those trees. Go. GO!"
Johnson ushered the others forward before running himself. He noticed the severed shield of the hunter and thanked God that the hunter's arm had fallen away from it. He kicked the shield over and jumped on top of it, using it as a snowboard. The advancing wave of snow had just about reached then.
"Little, give me your hand!" shouted Johnson as he sped towards the Private.
Little looked over his shoulder and grabbed Johnson's hand. Johnson grunted and pulled Little onto the immense shield. He did the same with Golding before directing the shield straight towards the trees.
"As we pass the tree line jump off and get behind one of the trees."
Johnson ducked down to lower the wind resistance. He willed the trees to come closer. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they passed the trees.
"Now!" shouted Johnson, throwing himself from the shield.
He and Golding rolled behind the same tree. Little was left lying between the trees, directly in the path of the oncoming tons of snow and ice. Johnson reached out, trying to grab the Private. The rumbling of the snow was getting louder. He stretched out, jumped and grabbed Little by the wrist. Then he pulled both himself and Private Little back behind the tree. Then the snow broke over the trees like waves breaking on the shore. The Covenant had been unable to make it to any shelter and had been buried under the snow, their bones snapped by the sheer force of the avalanche. The tree groaned under the weight of the snow but held. Johnson released the breath he hadn't realised that he'd been holding. He pushed off the small amount of snow that had edged its way around the tree and stood, pulling the others up with him. He allowed them a moment's rest before giving out the orders.
"Come on, ladies. We've been in worse battles."
"Yeah, but Brown ain't gonna' fight any more. Poor bastard."
"That as it may be, we have to get back to base. We have to let them know that the Covenant knows that we're here. We have to sound the alarm."
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