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The Story of a Marine; Ch. 10
Posted By: Ugly wimp<uglywimp@gmail.com>
Date: 9 July 2008, 7:41 pm
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Chapter 10
0448 hours, September 21, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Halo Surface, Alpha Base
Private Andrew Waldron joined the group of marines running out to meet the Covenant threat. It was then he remembered he had no squad. He was going to be assigned in the morning. Well- he thought- at least now the rest of my squad can't be killed, I have no squad. He headed toward the firing pits, but saw that the soldiers in those were already retreating. He jumped into a trench and began putting down covering fire. There was a flash and a loud boom to his right. The Scorpion MBTs had begun to open fire.
The battle was pitched, as Covenant forces charged forward, but most were cut down by the concentrated fire. Few marines were actually hit by any shots from the ground forces. The spirits in the air were a different story. They circled overhead and their ball turrets fired on the trenches. Many were by this barrage. However, a lucky hit with a rocket destroyed the ball turret of one of the ships, and another was blown apart when fired upon by the scorpions.
Waldron shouldered his assault rifle and fired short controlled bursts at on coming targets. This was pitifully easy compared to Sigma Octanus. The combined fire easily cut down approaching targets. At one point, two industrious Jackals got within ten feet of the trenches, but a frag grenade dispatched them both. An elite jumped out of a crater and made a mad dash toward the line and was blown apart by a tank.
And with that the battle ended.
Waldron stuck with a group of soldiers as they began the cleanup operation. They removed bodies, fixed the defenses, and recovered weapons. It was long and tedious work, but work that had to be done.
As Waldron was just about to drop the last plasma pistol his group had picked up into a bin in the area designated as the armory, the fatigue set in. His head suddenly ached, and his muscles protested to merely standing. He dropped the weapon and slumped against a wall. He stood up, willing his muscles to carry him back to his bunk. Andrew had been in combat all day, had slept very little, and then fought again nearly all night. He shrugged off his armor, and flopped on his cot, and was instantly asleep.
The rest of the day was pretty quiet. The Helljumpers went off and set up an ambush somewhere, but for private Waldron, that meant little. He, like everyone else, heard the rumors that the Helljumpers encountered something strange during their ambush, worse than Covenant, but it was just a rumor.
In the meantime, Waldron was once again assigned to a new squad. Sergeant Wyckoff was the commander, and Privates Frank Jones and Jeff Miller made up the remainder of unit. Andrew was not feeling social, and so didn't bother to try to learn any more. He was afraid they too might all die, and so he didn't care about the families they may or may not have. It was callus, he knew that, but this was war. Besides, with each passing day their chances of getting off the ring seemed to get slimmer and slimmer.
Not much later, the news spread. They were taking the Truth and Reconciliation. It would be their ticket off the ring. Waldron's squad also had a special task. Private Miller would take part in the assault on the ship, but Waldron, Jones, and Wyckoff would be dropped off in a Warthog a kilometer from the ship. They would be scouts for the attack, dropped in covertly twenty minutes before the marine's banshees attacked, and picked up immediately after the ship's gravity lift was disengaged.
When Sergeant Wyckoff heard this, his response was something to effect of "Yee-haw!" only stated a bit more eloquently. Waldron was not so enthusiastic. First in and last out sounded a lot like suicide mission to him, but orders were orders and had to be followed. Not only that, but evidently, the Helljumpers had encountered something during their ambush. They were called "Flood" and seemed like pretty nasty buggers. That greatly complicated matters, and didn't make the mission any more appealing.
They mounted up in a pelican as the sun set. Well, the sun was actually being blocked by the planet, Threshold it was called, and so wasn't exactly the same.
The pelican picked up a Warthog and flew away from the butte. Waldron realized it would be the last time he saw Alpha Base. He did not feel sad about that, but the butte had a certain character to it. The combination of alien architecture and the amenities that had been built in gave the place a feel that was highly unique.
One disadvantage to the pelican's design was that anyone in the rear hold could not see what was in front of them, only what was behind them. That seemed prophetic to Waldron, though he could not say exactly why. One thing he was sure of, he could see what was in store for him about as well he could see what was directly in front of the pelican.
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