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A Marine Named Peters: Fly Away Home
Posted By: GLADIATRRR3000<gladiatrrr2002@hotmail.com>
Date: 10 July 2003, 2:03 AM
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As Peters slump into a small mattress, he started thinking of his girlfriend back on Earth. She had probably forgotten all about him by now. It must have been three years since he saw her last. He had shipped out on a hot summer day, accompanied only by three people. His brother, Patrick, his best friend, Mark, and his girlfriend, Denise. His parents had disowned him as soon as he signed up for the army. He only had two small suitcases, filled with what little clothes he now owned. He hugged Patrick, kissed Denise, and waved to Mark. That was the last he saw of them. Patrick died in battle in some far off planet, which was glassed shortly thereafter. Mark had been tortured to death by space pirates in the middle of space. Denise, claiming she would write, never did. She probably had gotten a different man the day after he left. As Peters thought of this, he fell into a deep sleep.
An hour later, he was awoken by gunfire. Still thinking this was a dream, he turned over and closed his eyes again. Then Karls yelled. Peters woke, still groggy. "Sir, the Covenant must have intercepted our transmission! They got here just a minute ago! There must be at least ten Elites, and there are two Hunters!"
Peters felt his blood run cold. Maybe if they were in better condition, and if they had better guns, they could survive this. But they were tired, outnumbered, and low on ammo. It would take evac another hour to get here, unless they went ahead of schedule. There was no way they would get out of there alive. Trying to make the impression that he was confident, Peters laughed. "We must be damn good if they sent that much for so little!"
Karls bent down, reloaded, and kneeled up. He poked his head out the window and looked around. "They're gone!" Peters began to sweat.
"Why would they come here to get us and just run away like that?"
"I have no idea, sir."
"Your Excellency, scanners in the area of 'Peeterz' report that the Holy Relic is nearby!" exclaimed a technician.
"How can that be? Just but a few hours ago the Holy Relic was in the mountain range!" said the Prophet.
"I can answer that question." A Special Ops Elite walked out of the shadows. "I am an expert on the humans. I have studied their culture to..." The Prophet cut him off.
"I DO NOT CARE WHAT YOU ARE AN EXPERT ON!" bellowed the Prophet. "HOW IS THE HOLY RELIC IN THAT AREA?"
The Elite's voice shook in fear, although he remained calm on the outside. "Although the humans are primitive compared to our standard, they are somewhat sentient. Therefore, I believe that one of the humans realized the importance of the Relic and brought it with him."
"So, you say that the humans are smart, do you? That is not only treason, that is blasphemy." The Prophet said, a hint of anger in his voice. The Elite began to sweat. "But, seeing that that is the only good explanation, I will allow you to live."
The Elite sighed. "Thank you, your Excellency. Your judgment is always correct." He bowed and left the room.
"Your Excellency," stuttered another technician. "Seeing as the Relic is in the hands of a human we are trying to kill, is there not the possibility that we might... destroy it as well?"
The Prophet thought for a moment, then replied. "Yes, that is true. Call off the attackers and send in the stealth squad." He paused for a moment. "Send the 'human expert' in as well. Let us see how good he is at his expertise."
"Hey, did you see that?" Peters asked.
"See what?" said Karls, searching the skies.
"Not in the sky, on the ground. It looked like a blur in midair." He pointed towards it. "You see it?"
"Yeah."
Peters then recalled the time he first saw a stealth elite. One killed an entire squad before gunned down. As he remembered it, it all started when someone thought the ground was blurring. "Oh, shit!" he cried. "It's a stealth Elite!"
"What do we do?" cried Karls, as plasma came out of thin air.
"Shut all windows and close the door!"
"Oh, that'll hold them off for a LONG time, sir!"
"You have a better plan?"
Karls looked around. "Look! There's a sandbag! We'll pour the sand on the ground, then we can see their footprints!"
"Good idea." Peters cut a hole in the bottom and emptied the bag on the floor.
They hid in a dark corner of the bunker, readied their weapons, and aimed at the door.
'Prothesty ordered his men to a halt. He had trouble counting his men due to the camouflage they all wore. When he had checked them all in, he made a series of hand gestures. The Elites had trouble seeing them, but understood. Two went around the back to see if there was a rear entrance, and three went inside. A few moments later came screams. 'Prothesty saw blood erupt from thin air, then three corpses fall. How could this be? Humans could not see them, they were near invisible! He looked at the ground, and saw that they had left footprints. He then heard screams from the rear of the building, and knew that the others had met similar fates. Being the only one left, he knew he had to finish the job or be killed.
He stepped into the building, careful not to step on the ground. He put one foot on a shelf, and the hoisted himself up and grabbed an overhead light. It squeaked slightly, but the humans did not seem to notice. He grabbed another light and moved forward. One human said something under his breath, and 'Prothesty did not move. He waited a few moments and moved again. After a minute had passed, he was behind the humans. He took hold of a pole and shimmied down. His feet touched the floor. He was right behind them when one of them yelled, "NOW!"
They opened fire in him, too close to miss a single shot. Since his camouflage was on, his shield was off, so the many rounds tore through 'Prothesty's weak body. Confused, 'Prothesty fell and died.
"Thank GOD for motion trackers!" Yelled Karls.
"Thank God indeed." Said Peters. He then had a severe leg pain, which took the better part of ten minutes. When it was over, Peters asked, "When does evac get here?"
"Five minutes."
"Good." Peters sighed. "Very good."
Peters reloaded his MA5B. He checked his pocket to see how much ammo he had left, when he felt a rock. He pulled it out and saw that it was the strange rock Karls had found in the caves. It looked strangely familiar, like he had seen it in a book somewhere. He thought hard, trying to remember where he had seen it before, then gave up. He stood up, looked outside, and heard the exact sound he wanted to hear. The sound of a Pelican's engine. He saw the Pelican clear the hilltop and slow down for descent. He motioned Karls to come to the door, when he heard another thing. Something he didn't want to hear.
He turned around, and sure enough, a platoon of Covenant were running at them. Elites, Jackals, Grunts, and Hunters started to open fire. Peters and Karls started running towards the landing pad, trying to signal the Pelican to hurry up. The pilot must have noticed, because he stopped lowering the landing gear and just hit the ground. "Get in!" yelled one of the two men in the passenger area. Peters threw Karls into the Pelican when he realized that he had left the rock behind. He told them to wait ten seconds before lifting off. He ran faster than he had ever run before. He got to the bunker, found the rock, then began to run back to the Pelican when a Needler round hit him in his bad leg.
"AAAAGGGGHHHH!" Peters screamed. He fell down. "GO!" he yelled at the Pelican.
Karls jumped out of the Pelican, ran towards Peters, picked him up, and carried him to the Pelican, which immediately took off. Peters' vision was blurring, and the pain was going away. "He's going into shock!" Yelled the medic.
"Well, stop him!" yelled Karls.
The medic plunged a needle into Peters' chest, emptied it, then threw it out. He pulled some biofoam out of a bag, put the nozzle into the recently created hole in Peters' leg, then filled it with foam. He then gave Peters some morphine to numb the pain. "You okay?" he asked.
"Never better." Peters laughed.
"Good." Said the medic. "Your trial is tomorrow at 1200 hours."
"What?"
**To be Continued**
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