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Operation: Stingray Ch. 3: --Survival of the Smartest--
Posted By: Nick Kang<digitai430@yahoo.com>
Date: 11 April 2004, 1:09 PM


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            1500 HOURS(HUMAN MILITARY TIME)
            AUGUST 2, 2552(HUMAN MILITARY CALENDAR)
            SAINT JOSEPH BEACH, FLORIDA
            CURRENTLY UNDER COVENANT SEIGE



      The bushes rustled. Mottrie 'Uzukamee unloaded half a clip from his needler into the plant, filling the air with bright pink projectiles. The green plant exploded in a small pink mushroom cloud and a dead Earth animal flew out. 'Uzukamee sighed and punched another needler crystal into the gun.
      "False alarm." he said to the four waiting Brutes, who merely grunts and kept on waddling down the pathway. 'Uzukamee took one last look at the animal's lifeless eyes before pushing on to follow the four behemoths.



      Corporal Tyler Benson made a series of hand signals to the ten other men in his squad. They quickly acknowledged him and took cover behind the trees. Benson could see the five heat signatures approaching from down the murky path. He quickly made sure the dead Elites were up. They had stuck eleven Elites to the trees with medical tape. Lots and lots of medical tape. The eight-foot aliens were much heavier than they looked, as Benson and his squad had found out.



      'Uzukamee, having regained his lead, stopped at the faint signatures of heat farther down the trail. The unsuspecting Humans would never know what hit them. Mottrie bellowed a deep, guttural war cry before holding down the trigger of the needler and sweeping it back and forth. The Brutes also joined in, letting off bright blue grenades that tore the trees to shreds. 'Uzukamee reloaded and signaled for the Brutes to stop. The hail of explosives ceased. Nothing could have survived that.



      "Sir, I've got a radio transmission from SFP-011! They desperately need reinforcements! What should I do?" asked Private Shawn O'dwyer.
      "Tell 'em we'll come help 'em as soon as we shake off these damn Banshees!" yelled Staff Sergeant Chris Atkins over the explosions and rattling of machine guns.
      "Roger that, sir!" O'dwyer yelled and returned to the radio. "Roger SFP-011! This is UNSC Frigate Mayflower in company of Naval convoy three! We're under heavy attack by Covenant air units right now, but as soon as we fight 'em off, we'll come getcha! That may be a while considering how many Covie bastards are on us right now! What are your coordinates?" O'dwyer let go of the radio button and waited for a response. There was none. The radio had gone dead.



      Benson ran, amid the sounds of explosions and cracking timber. He could see his squad running around him, flitting from tree to tree while the Covenant were occupied with the dead Elites.



      'Uzukamee cautiously approached the dead Humans. Although he was one hundred and twenty percent positive they were dead, there still could be others hiding in the area. He reached the blackened, mutilated area where the eleven Humans had been. He stepped on something that crunched under his weight. Looking down, 'Uzukamee realized what it was. The arm of one of his fellow Elites. 'Uzukamee felt a ping of rage go through his system. He reared back his head and bellowed a cry of rage so fierce, it would have frozen the blood of a Prophet.



      Bradley looked up as he heard the bloodcurdling roar of an Elite. Benson must have been doing his job well.
      He had the count of the Banshee attack. Thirty-two were dead, eighteen were wounded, and eleven were missing. Along with the loss of the Retribution, that attack had severely crippled his Battalion. He hoped they came back in radio contact with the Mayflower once again. If they didn't, they would never be able to hold their position long enough for the counter-invasion force to arrive.
      His men were busy cleaning up after the attack. Some dragged the bodies away and buried them on the beach, whereas others dug out the blood-drenched sand and took check of surviving equipment. They had a small amount of equipment that they had taken off the Retribution before it had sunk. There were few tents and even fewer food rations. They had to conserve their supplies long enough for radio contact to be established with the Mayflower. And no one knew how long that would be.



      Dallano 'Rootamee couldn't help but think that the Humans had the upper hand in this area. He didn't know why. He had several divisions accompanying him, along with his battalion, and a whole mess of Wraiths, Ghosts, Shadows, Phantoms, and Banshees. He should have felt secure. But something deep down inside him told his brain that the Humans would win the area back over, even with their small arsenal. Perhaps he was just thinking too much of how they had quickly destroyed his five Banshees. But whatever his gut told him, he vowed that he would not let the Humans take back the land.





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