Somewhere over the ridge, there's the sun
Posted By: fwooperboy<Fwooperboy@hotmail.com>
Date: 3 November 2006, 4:42 am
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The trench filled with dust and smog. Nothing could be seen but the blurry outlines of the trench walls and the dusky faces of the frightened soldiers.
They knew death was near. All but abandoned by their superiors, contact lost entirely the 462 division assault marines were a lost unit.
As die-hards, nobody really cared. Trooper Fitzgerald knew this as his sergeant wrote a final letter.
He was young and scared as the ground shook and shuddered. There were distant booms like some gargantuan elephant treading on the ground. Then there was a flash of brilliant plasma and the spectral phantom forms flew overhead. Marines began screaming. There was a raucous cry of an Elite officer and the sergeant loaded his battle rifle, turning to the last of his men.
"Alright marines, this is it. We know the flood are approaching, the covenant at their head. I've called for an evac but we have to hold in this trench series." There was a bright bolt of gause energy as the remaining human energy launcher threw a bolt into the heavens and was destroyed in purple plasma.
The marines turned and put their weapons to the dirt so they could fire and reload efficiently in the trench. A repeater turret clattered into life spewing bullets at hostiles approaching.
"You can't see 'em, but fire anywhere, everywhere,' yelled the sergeant above the din of the approaching scarab walkers.
The soldiers pulled their triggers and sent a barrage of gunfire into the approaching alien spearhead.
Grunt forms began falling and then a jackal and then another and then an elite fell. The humans worked with precision and dexterity and very soon a wounded elite orderly warbled the retreat cry. The alien wave crawled backwards but the line of shadowy figures did not disperse. Slowly it grew bulkier and the sergeant could see the spines sticking into the air and cursed.
"Damnit..." he turned to Fitzgerald. "Trooper, prime a grenade, prime a rocket. Prime them and hit that line. We got hunters folks!" he roared and the marines began whimpering as the bulky hunter formation approached.
There were energy blasts all around and torrents of green plasma shots thudded in and around the duggout.
Marines were torn to shreds as the trench shattered. The sergeant screamed as he was atomized. Fitzgerlad clung to the trench wall and prayed he would survive. Elite aliens began pouring into the trench, the noise of battle errupted. Fitzgerald blocked an elites swing with his rifle and made a lunge, hitting the creature square in the eye with the long bayonet attatchment.
"Take cover marines! Firing!" came the cry and Fitzgerald made another cling to the wall as plumes of promtheium and fire scorched everything down one half of the trench to burning black charcoal. The marine with the flamethrower prepared another burst of the lethal weapon but he was mobbed by grunts and died screaming. Fitzgerald remembered the grendae he had been priming and now he pulled the pin and lobbed it into the approaching alien assailants. A marine made a dive and made it just in time as the light explosive tore alien scum to pieces.
As if in direct response a grunt primed a stciky grenade and lobbed it at the marines. The plasma grenade glued to a marines body. He wailed and attempted to tear it off and Fitzgerald made yet another dive at the trench wall
There was a roaring of dirt and dust in Fitzgerald's eyes and ears and then all was black.
All was black until a burst of white light startled the lone marine. He opened his eyes and saw partial light. He felt his chest was compressed and he shook his body and the compression was removed. Dirst fell off his form and out his ears and he staggered to his feet. The bright light was all around, coming from the ring world itself, but the sky was blue, all the hellish ash and dust having dispersed.
Next to him lay a dead elite, the weight on his chest he had felt earlier. Dead lay scattered everywhere. Man and alien were shredded alike and all around lay the of vicious struggle, including green blood of the parasite.
Fitzgerald threw off his helmet and rifle and peered over the last trench ridge. A pelican was waiting amongst the dead for surviviors.
Behind was the sun, white red burning to look at against the blue sky. As medics rushed forward, Fitzgerald said a word of thanks that he had seen the sun one last time and fell to the ground, dead.
His wife would hear the news three weeks later and look into Earths sun and cry.
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