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Marooned Chapter 11
Posted By: Steve Ollett<sollett@clydematerials.co.uk>
Date: 3 January 2004, 7:58 PM
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MAROONED - CHAPTER 11
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1402HRS 08-OCT-2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR)
SECOND PLANET OF ACKWAZE SYSTEM.
AT CLEARING, CLOSE TO UNKNOWN DOORWAY.
Time appeared to slow down for Corporal Stocks. He lay on his stomach, in the prone position, his sniper rifle laying useless before him.
Sweat ran freely down the side of Stocks' face. His heart was beating so hard and fast that it felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. To him, the sound of his blood pumping was almost deafening.
Stocks clutched the 'fully-automatic' M6D pistol in his right hand, and disengaged the safety as quietly as possible. His hand was shaking.
Once more Stocks felt the pressure of the weapon on the back of his head as the voice behind him again taunted "Wort! Wort!"
He closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer, a miracle in itself for a confirmed Atheist Stocks thought as he waited for the pressure of the weapon to lessen slightly.
Do or Die time, Stocks thought before he began to move. He just hoped that the thing stood over him had crap reflexes.
In an instant Stocks rolled over to his right, swinging his left arm with all his might to knock the aim of the enemy's weapon off. As he rolled onto his back, Stocks brought his right arm about, his pistol held outstretched. Stocks screamed in a mixture of fear and rage which somehow sounded to him slow and distorted as he squeezed and held the pistol's trigger hard.
The M6D burst into life and fired a 12.7mm a semi-armor-piercing, high explosive round skyward, whilst the slide of the recoil-operated pistol slid back to eject the empty bullet casing from the chamber. The slide then returned forwards pushing a new round out of the magazine and into the chamber. The weapon fired again.
The process repeated another five times in under two seconds as Stocks continued his unearthly scream.
Strangely there was no splatter of purple blood across Stocks' face. Neither was there any dead weight of an eight-foot tall armor-clad Elite warrior about to collapse upon him.
As the red mist of his rage disapated, Stocks became aware of a figure crouching slightly to the side of him, with both of its' hands holding it's head protectively.
"You fucking Moron!" said the deep voice, which now appeared to have a New-Zealander accent. "You could have killed me!"
The man slowly backed off from Stocks.
Stocks leapt to his feet, enraged. "Yeah? I thought I was already dead!" He charged at the man, who now stood up to his full height of six foot, nine inches. He must have weighed at least 25 stone.
Stocks put his full weight, a modest 14 stone by comparison, into his charge and knocked the man clear off of his feet and onto the ground.
Had the man been expecting that move, Stocks would have been taking the man's place instead and probably eating dirt by now.
The man shuffled backwards akwardly on the ground as Corporal Stocks strode forwards, wide-eyed in a cold rage, the colour drained from his face. Stocks thrust the barrel of his pistol into the man's face. "You made a BIG FUCKING MISTAKE pulling that move on me private! Mock executions are a Court Martialing offense! Maybe I should save you the humiliation of it by shooting you now?"
Stocks continued to train the pistol at the man whilst his eyes surveyed him as if he expected a counter move.
Stocks comms system activated.
"John? What the fuck's going on up there? Who's firing?" Ryan questioned.
"It's Sheep!" replied Stocks as he continued to hold the man refered to as 'Sheep' at gun point.
"Sheep?" Ryan repeated quizically. "What's 'Sheep' got to do with it?"
"I was about to ask him myself" Stocks answered.
"Oh, I see." Ryan replied, making the mental connection. "I'll be with you in a minute."
"Okay, and if you see Zoran on your travels," Stocks said coldly, "drag his yellow arse back over with you. Thanks."
----
1409HRS 08-OCT-2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR)
SECOND PLANET OF ACKWAZE SYSTEM.
AT CLEARING, CLOSE TO UNKNOWN DOORWAY.
"Okay 'Sheep' What's going on and where is Sergeant Guerra?" Ryan demanded. He stood infront of the blonde haired giant, who sat cross-legged on the ground.
Corporal Stocks still had his pistol trained on the man.
"That's Private Tom Collins to you... Sir." Sheep replied. "I mean there's no need for this. We're on the same side for crying out loud!"
Tom Collins was another member of Sergeant Guerra's team. He was a New Zealander by descent, and had all of the obvious nicknames like Kiwi or, the more derogatory 'Sheep' and it's variants. This was in reference to the farming industry that New Zealand was known for, and the antics of the lonely male sheep farmers who outnumbered the female populations quite significantly.
Ryan took a step closer, and leaned over Collins, grabbing him by his lapels. "I don't know what kind of team Sergeant Guerra runs," Ryan said angrily, "But the moment you pulled that stunt on one of MY MEN, you just made yourself an enemy in my book!" He let go of Collins lapels in disgust.
"I'll ask you again, What is going on here, and where is Sergeant Guerra?" Ryan demanded, his voice still raised in anger.
"Inside the mountain." Collins replied, motioning towards the door set into the mountainside. "He and Private Johnson, together with the two scientists we were assigned to protect. We sent Corporal Coultas back to the Albatross because we couldn't raise them or the Sheffield on the comms."
"Coultas didn't make it." Ryan replied, dangling the dead man's tags before Collins. "We found him just short of the LZ - his warthog took a fuel rod blast."
"Oh shit!" said Collins as he hung his head and ran both hands through his regulation short blonde hair. "So what about the Albatross? When do we get extracted?"
"The Covenant downed her." Ryan said in reply, "We had a close encounter with one of their dropships, and had to bust some heads before following it back this way."
"Where's your team?" Collins asked.
"We had one fatality, and a transport problem, which is now resolved." said Ryan glancing back at the strange doorway set into the mountainside. "The rest of my team should be arriving shortly."
Corporal Stocks finally lowered his pistol, removing the partially spent magazine, and replacing it with a fresh one. He tucked the magazine that had just removed from the pistol into his right thigh pocket. He would refill the magazine at a later time.
"Alright, so how come Guerra and you guys found this place?" Ryan asked, more calmly this time.
----
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