The Unknown Quantity Chapter 1
Posted By: Flying Battle Man<Ringworldhalo@yahoo.com>
Date: 29 June 2004, 7:07 PM
Read/Post Comments
|
July 30, 2552. Zulu Delta Sector, Planet Rezen. 2200 hours. Location: Building formerly known as Bobs Inn. Now designated Shelter Charlie
The ODST's Battle Rifle barked and the Grunt toppled. Blood washed over the soldiers reflective faceplate, smearing across his vision. Lt. Jeff Denson raised a gloved hand and wiped the glass/plastic alloy clean. A triple crack! echoed through the building and his com crackled. "Three down." The team sniper reported. "Rodger" A glowing orb smashed into an ODST backing out of a nearby doorway. The plasma hit and splashed over the surface of the ODSTs armor. The flaming comet insignia of the Obital Drop Shock Troops burned away, revealing a piece of burned flesh beneath the suit. The Sgt. James Lockard grunted and whirled around, a Sub-Machine Gun rising as he turned. The SMG rattled and the Elite stumbled back a few steps. An all volunteer outfit, the ODSTs was something you had to be extremely devoted, or just plain nuts to join. Lockard was both. The Elites shields failed and the ODST tried to pull the trigger through the grip. Six rounds leapt from the muzzle and the gun fell silent. "No." The man snarled, dropping the empty weapon and drawing his sidearm from it's thigh holster. The 12.7mm rounds tore into the Elites un-shielded body. The alien screamed and wilted to the floor. A slug entered his head and exit his skull in a splatter that painted the wall behind him purple. "Medic!" Lockard called. An ODST, unrecognizable except for the small red cross on his arm, ran up and began to treat Lockards wound. Densons helmet seal clicked and hissed open as he yanked the headgear off his head and threw it across the room. The last three days had been spent in this god-forsaken hole. The squad had been hit by Seraphs as they entered the atmosphere in their HEVs. Half the men had been killed, trapped inside Standard-issue coffins. Now, with another fourth of the squad dead, the six remaining ODSTs were running out of ammo, food, and motivation. Two ODSTs were barely hanging onto life in a room. The injured marines were gobbling up the squads medical supplies like hungry wolves. But they were ODSTs, they would not be allowed to die. Not on Densons watch. Denson looked into the celing. On the roof, Corporal Steve Freeda lay prone. The man was armed with an S3 AM sniper rifle and was keeping an eye out for the rest of the Covies. The newer model of the rifle featured an infared setting for the scope, a Night Vision setting, 12x zoom and a very powerful 14.5mm FS/DS round. "Here they come!" The call came not through the com channels, but through the night. And the voice was not one Denson recognized. Denson snatched his helmet up and rammed it onto his head. The night vision setting shattered the darkness into green luminesense. About 30 meters away, a beam of light waved through the air. A muzzle flash almost blinded Denson as the unknown quantity fired. "Yeah!" A voice cried. "Have some of this!" Another muzzle flash lit up the ally. "Darkness!" Denson heard the Sniper call. "Retreats from the light!" A call came back. "Move." Denson said quickly to Sgt. Lockard. The man scooted to one side and Denson saw an painkilling syrette poking into Lockards wound. "I think I'll sit this one out, Denny." Lockard murmured groggily. Denson frowned and ran into the night. He deactivated the night vision setting and flipped over to infared. Six Grunt shaped objects were rapidly cooling in the night air. Two Elite blobs spat glowing heat-balls and three Marine blobs. A flash of heat erupted from the nearest Marine and one Elite toppled. The Infared setting clicked off as Denson rounded the corner into the light from the sodium street lights. The Marines had held their own behind a small concrete barrier. The block was pock-marked with plasma burns and had to be at least halfway melted to slag. All three of the Marines ducked and yanked the clips from their old MA5B Assualt Rifles. At the same time. Rookies. Denson thought. The trigger tapped against the hand-grip and the cycling bolt rammed shell after shell into the night air. The brass tinkled across the asphalt. The final Elite warrior dropped to the deck, purple gore oozing from a half dozen wounds. "Thanks for the assist sir." The lead Marine said as he approached. "Not a problem..." Data scrolled across Densons HUD, "Private. Where's your XO?" "Layin' bloody back thataway." The man grunted, thrusting a thumb over his shoulder. The green glow from the mans HUD square illuminated the Flaming Comet on Densons arm. "ODST huh? I was wondering about the get-up." Denson looked the man in the eyes and said, "Watch your toungue Private." "Yes, sir! Of Course, sir!" The man flipped the ODST a sloppy salute and slapped the bolt of his MA5B forward. "Now what do we do?" "We have a shelter set up back down the road. Follow me." Without waiting for acknowledgement, Denson turned and walked away. The Marines looked at one another. After what these men had been through, being with ODSTs didn't sound like such a bad idea. The Marines hustled to catch up.
|