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Storming the Fortress---Part II of Souls of War
Posted By: CJ Champion
Date: 4 April 2003, 3:45 AM
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Spartan 117 readied his assault rifle. 2 Ghosts were coming straight for him, their engines howling as they came. Instead of shooting at the hovercrafts, John decided it would be best to shoot at the pilots. The rifle's shells wouldn't do much to the purple hover-sleds. He took aim at the one to the left of him, still aware of the one behind him. They wanted a vice attack-sandwich him in. A couple quick bursts de-throned the Elite from its steed, the beast shreiking as it spiraled to the icy ground.
The Master Cheif spun to meet the other Ghost. It was so dangerously close it surprised him. He rolled to the side avoiding the vehicle just in time to save himself. In response, the Ghost pivoted and raced toward him again, the Elite's eyes steely as he squeezed the controls. Death in the form of blue plasma hurled itself at the Master Cheif from the Ghost's front-mounted rifles, the Spartan dodged it nimbly while shooting at his target. Then, BLAM. A stray shell hit the Ghosts fuel intake and it exploded in a firy inferno. The chared Elite was flung into the air, and landed already dead and burning with a thump.
2 less annoyances now. He rushed to another squad, Neil still in his mind. Spartan 117 was about to give them a hand with the Hunters.
"AAAARRRGH!" a marine fell dead at John's feet just then with a plasma burn covering his side. He had already broken that promise to himself, he realized. From then on he swore not to make one he couldn't keep.
"Nice to see you, sir!" a marine adressed the Master Cheif while simultaneously firing at a Hunter from mid-range. That Marine was Bill Roeskey.
Bill took a Hunter down by shooting it in that tender spot of flesh where it was exposed between its armor. He learned this tactic before in training, but didn't belive such a huge beast could be killed in such a fasion. I'll be damned, he thought. It worked.
John fired at the sensitive spot of another lumbering Hunter, killing it as well. The Covenant hit the ground cracking the ice. The rest of John's platoon caught on as well and the remaining Hunters dropped like flies.
They were definetly making progress. The Jackals were made quick work of along with the Grunts. The first battle was over, and the frozen plain was covered in blood of all kinds and colors, sadly some of it being human. "Did we lose anyone?" Bill asked John.
"2 that I know of," came his grim reply. He walked over to the corpses and ripped off their dogtags. The badly burned soldier was a certain Jim Karsal. The Master Cheif then retreived the dogtags off of what was left of the plasma cannon victim's body. Harry Russel. Damn, he thought. He put the dogtags in a compartment in his green armour. His squad followed him to Neil, that wound could be infected by now.
"Jesus Christ, the burn!" Neil Sanders screamed clutching his stomach.
"Someone get some dressings on this man," the Master Cheif requested. Gregg Jones immedietly complied. Jones opened up his emergency pack to tend to Sanders's injury.
"Get ready, Neil this is gonna hurt like a bitch," Gregg said. He spayed an antibiotic right into the puncture in Neil's stomach, and he screamed almost inhumanly loud.
"Come on, suck it up mang!" came the hispanic reply of Julio Rivera. He couldn't stand to see one of his fellow men cry--it almost made him physically sick.
Gregg wrapped some gauze tight around Neil's wound, then patted him on the back.
"Okay, lets move," The Master Cheif calmly but urgently commanded. Neil put an arm around Julio's shoulders for support as the squad ran down a steep snowy hill toward a Covenant fortress. Inside that fortress, was the platoon they were sent to rescue. And they would be rescued, John thought. They had to be.
The monocromatic metal fort loomed above the band of warriors. Gun turrents enclosing the walls on teirs that climbed higher and higher. It was a tall tower, octagonal in shape. The Master Cheif's keen eyesight spotted the telltale warpin in the air. There were Elites surrounding that base with active camoflauge. A lot of them equipped with energy sabers.
"Be careful, there are a lot of Elites around there," John informed his squad. They just now began to see the aliens. "It would probably be best to take them out from long distance."
"Gotcha," Bill answered for all of them.
"On 3," the Master Cheif's stony voice said. The faint clicks and clacks of guns being steadied was heard, then complete silence. "3"
Gun fire exploded out of 18 rifles, the weaker invisible Elites began to fall instantly. These Elites traded energy for stealth. Purple blood was spatttered in all directions contrasting the snow as the Elietes' bodies were shredded and crumpled by the barrage of bullets. Their low cries of pain filled the air. None of them knew where it was coming from: the marines were too far away. 5 left now...4...3...2...1. Done.
"Yeah!!!" Julio whooped, patting Neil on the back as to tell him, We did it! The first wave of security was felled. But that tower was damn tall, and the captured platoon was probably at the top.
"Time to storm the fort," the Master Cheif said. For the first time in years, a smile tugged at his lips.
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