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Landing on Dracon
Posted By: The Scribe<nero@cinci.rr.com>
Date: 16 July 2003, 7:04 AM
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*Remember, if you haven't read the prequels you can do so by selecting "more by this author". THis is my only series so far, so everything you see are prequels.
Tuka Hanamee and his squad boarded the drop ship just as the first bomb hit. It was a long way off, so they were in no danger...at the moment. The ship roared to life and no time, was in the yellow, dusty sky. Through the view crack in the large troop bay door, Hanamee watched as white-hot bubbles sprouted everywhere. He was surprised. The humans had more powerful weapons than he had thought. Large shockwaves spread over the desert landscape, stirring up dust clouds that rose to be as tall as buildings.
As the ship traveled higher and higher, more of the ground became visible. Hanamee could now see thousands of specks running around frantically. These specks were his comrades, Strike Force: Gulamee.
Suddenly, a shockwave reached the Covenant troops. Thousands of the tiny specks fell flat, and were not long after, engulfed in white-hot flame.
Thousands of soldiers dead in seconds.
The evac ship fell a good one hundred feet through the air and then began to climb back up towards space again.
The ship's intercom crackled.
"Damn!" the pilot's voice exclaimed. "Those shockwaves are causing some serious turbulence."
One of the riot guards that had helped the Master Chief in the process of boarding the ship turned a pale green.
Puke splattered against the floor and rolled to the back of the passenger compartment. The guard wiped off the corner of his mouth.
"Uneasy stomach," he informed.
The Chief nodded and was thankful that he had his helmet on. The smell would be hard on the other troops.
"Sorry, sir," one of the guards said. "I never got to introduce myself. The names Samuel Hastings."
The other two gave their names as well.
"Peter Hasley."
"George Patton, named after the great World War Two general."
"We have reached interstellar obit," the pilot said. "ETA: Ion, one hour."
"Roger that," the Chief replied.
Cortana's holographic form turned to face Captain Berkley.
"According to the pilot of the evacuation ship, the Master Chief is on board," she said. "Their ETA is one hour, Captain."
Berkley nodded and paced back and forth in front of the large view window. Outside the huge, brownish planet turned slowly as the nuclear bombs' flowers of fire erupted on its surface.
"According to Intel, there's a Covenant ship on the other side of Marakesh," he said. "It's a shame we won't be able to get to it in time."
"However, Captain, I can monitor the ship to see what it decides to do," Cortana suggested, trying to lighten the level of stress that was contained in the present situation.
"That would be good, Cortana."
"According to the Covenant's profile of the ship, it's called the Shimmering Flame. The ship's commander is well-known for brutal tactics and is very well gifted in the art of strategy.
"Great..." Berkley muttered, rubbing his chin.
Cortana continued.
"I'm picking up some of the crew's radio conversation. Give me a minute... A drop ship is currently docking. Apparently, some Covenant troops made off of the planet before we glassed it."
"Damn..."
"I wouldn't worry about it though, Captain. It's only one drop ship. There can't be many of them."
It seemed like an eternity before the ship's pilot finally said what the Chief wanted to hear.
"ETA 30 seconds!"
The Master Chief looked over at the one called Hasley.
"Where'd you get the scar?" the Spartan asked, eyeing the craterous looking spot on the cheek of the soldier.
"During a small riot on Harvest. That was before we lost contact with them. I don't know who did it, but somebody in the crowd put an M6D round in my face," Hasley responded, turning his head to show the other cheek. "See? The scar's the same on each cheek. The bullet went right through because I happened to have my mouth open. Luckily, they were able to use nano cell replacement, so I wouldn't go around the rest of my life with holes in my cheeks."
The Chief's face winced behind his facial visor, as the thought of the pain Hasley had gone through crossed his mind.
The ship jolted as it docked in the Ion.
A voice outside of the evac said, "Close docking bay door 11."
The small ship's door flew open and the Chief stepped out. Just as before, a marine ran up.
"Captain Berkley would like you on the bridge, sir," he said.
Hanamee and his squad leapt from the open troop bay doors and onto the frigid metal floor of the Shimmering Flame's ship bay.
A small Grunt hurried over, his utility belt causing a small series of rattles.
"Excuse me, your Excellency," he piped, staring up at Hanamee. "The ship's commander wishes to speak with you."
"Thank you for message," Hanamee boomed, using the tone of his voice as a sign of higher authority. "You may move along now, pest. I can find my way from here."
The tiny Grunt waddled off, out of breath and squealing with fear.
Hanamee motioned for his squad to follow and then began to jog in the bridge's direction. This particular ship was much nicer than many that the Elite had been on before and he enjoyed walking through it. It wasn't long before he found himself in the bridge.
The ship's commander, Fuka Wanamee, stood arms behind back, staring into the large view screen atop a high platform. He spun around at hearing the squad enter.
"Tuka Hanamee!" he greeted warmly hurrying down the ramp and onto level ground with his fellow commander.
"Greetings, Fuka Wanamee," Hanamee replied. "You wished to speak to me?"
"Yes. The prophets have told me of your reason for being here. I am sorry you have not had the pleasure to slaughter the green human."
"There is no need for sympathy, Wanamee," Hanamee remarked waving his hand in the air. "I will crush his skull into dust with my fist."
"I have every confidence in you and in the gods that you will."
The two Elites paused for a moment.
"However," Wanamee continued. "We have reason to believe that this green warrior is going to travel to the outer human colony of Dracon to help drive our strike teams from that territory."
"Then we shall pursue him," Hanamee replied defiantly clenching his palms into fists.
"There is a transport waiting for you," Wanamee replied. "It will depart a few days after the human's. That way, you cannot be caught following it."
Hanamee grunted an approval and stood up straight.
"May the god of war bless you, Tuka Hanamee," Wanamee stated as he turned and walked to a holographic control pad. With the press of a button, the ship entered slip space.
"Damn," Cortana muttered. "It's gone."
"Stow it, Cortana," Captain Berkley said aggressively. "Right now I'm more worried about this Spartan getting to Dracon on time, before it's wiped off the map."
"Yes, Captain," the AI said rolling her pinkish eyes.
Berkley raised an eyebrow. The little ass was smarting off. Suddenly, the Captain's mind cleared of Cortana.
The Master Chief strode into the bridge, towering at least seven feet into the air.
"Greetings, Master Chief," the Captain said, shaking the giant's hand. "I hope that you'll enjoy your short trip on the Ion."
"Hello, Captain," the Chief responded.
"Ahem, excuse me?" Cortana questioned. "Where's my greeting?"
The Chief smiled.
"Hello, Cortana," he said. "I nearly forgot about you."
"Very funny."
"Your room is located on C deck, we'll be arriving at the transport departure zone," Berkley continued.
"I'll be fine without a room," the Spartan insisted. "By the time I probably remove my suite, the transport will be ready for me."
Tired of the small talk, the Master Chief took a walk to the cafeteria and sat down at a table. Apparently, it was lunchtime for the crew and the marines on board. There were long lines leading to the food dispensers. Besides, he wasn't hungry. His stomach was already full of nervous-like emptiness. He always felt like this before combat.
"Hey, Sloan! Check this out!"
The shouts of amazement broke the Chief's thoughts.
"It's a goddamned Spartan!"
A boyish-looking marine sat down across from him.
"Hey, Master Chief, the name's Private David Sloan," he said, holding out his hand to the Chief.
The Spartan shook it.
"Hello, private," the Chief responded apathetically.
"I and a few other men have been assigned to escort you from the landing pad when we get to Dracon, sir," Sloan said.
"Escort? Why would I need an escort?" the Chief questioned.
"Because, sir, we're landing under fire. The whole damn colony is under attack. There's not a single place you can go without meeting some kind of alien bastard."
The Spartan's brow wrinkled. No one had told him they would be landing under fire. The poor private would get mowed down the second the ship touched down. It was easy to tell that Sloan was green.
Not much time had passed before the Chief got to know Sloan. He had two kids. A four year-old girl, two year-old boy and not to mention a wife. He had joined the marines because he had wanted something different and to see new places. It was also one of the only jobs he could get since he never finished secondary school and married at sixteen.
Sloan had been in combat zones, but had never had a kill he could clearly be sure he made. The landing of the Chief's ship would only be his second experience under fire.
After the two had talked for about an hour, the Captain's voice echoed throughout the ship.
"Master Chief and escort team, board landing shuttle 13 on the double."
Before going, a quick stop was made and the Chief slipped Cortana into his helmet.
The Spartan and five other marines followed a series of hallways until they came to a large launch bay. In the center of the bay, a large shuttle sat, its gray surface rugged with plasma burns and bullet holes.
"She's a shitty one, but she'll hold," a voice startled the Chief.
A middle-aged man, with a thick mustache on his face stepped forth from behind the six, wearing a pilot's attire.
"Good to meet you, Master Chief," he said. "The name's Dino Perez. Shall we board, gentlemen?"
The marines and the one they were to guard jogged up the inclined ramp up and into the troop area. Taking their seats, the ramp closed up to form a door at the back of the passenger room.
Dino's voice came over the intercom.
"We're out in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"
The Spartan felt his body jerk to the side as the ship launched from the Ion, rocketing at serious speeds.
A few latches popped up on the walls, bearing windows underneath.
"All right, a view," Sloan said, leaning back in his seat.
Ahead of the ship, the Chief could see the planet of Dracon. Its huge form towered over the shuttle as it neared the giant ever more.
The other marines had introduced themselves.
David Armstrong, Leo Fisher, Sam Green, and Jay Crosby.
To the Chief, they all seemed like green rookies.
Time seemed to fly before the pilot shouted, "ETA twenty seconds!"
The windows seemed to act as picture frames, framing gruesome scenes that lingered below. It would be a hell down there.
It all happened too fast.
The shuttle touched the pad, the ramp flew open and a stray plasma bolt hit Armstrong in the face.
The Chief sprinted down the ramp and took cover behind some storage crates on the landing zone. In front of the crates, hundreds of human and Covenant soldiers battled. It was a massacre.
A hunter lumbered up the pad's ramp and put himself right on top of the Chief's position. Not even knowing the Spartan was nearby, the hunter grunted as he sent a fuel rod projectile into the passenger area of the shuttle. The Master Chief looked back and saw that the alien's shot passed right over the head of Fisher and continued on until it went through the doorway to the cockpit. An explosion rang out and Dino Perez's head came rolling down the ship's ramp, his neck stub smoking from the bottom.
"Oh Jesus!" Fisher screamed as he blindly ran forward.
The hunter lunged forward, passing the crates up, and slammed its indestructible shield right into the marine. Fisher's body went flying into a steel wall nearby and landed in such a way that his head ended up under his buttocks. His back had apparently been shattered.
Sam Green came running from nowhere, firing useless shots at the colossal behemoth. He suddenly became a mess of meat chunks and random body parts when the hunter decided to send a projectile right into the man.
The Chief had a shot and he took it. The Spartan lodged an M6D round into the hunter's soft orange back. It toppled over forward, its limbs twitching every now and then.
The Master Chief looked around to get an idea of how the other two were doing. Crosby's lower body lie nearby in a crimson pool of its own blood.
A plasma grenade.
Sloan's body rested on the shuttle's ramp. A trail of blood running down and onto the landing pad, forming a small puddle.
The Chief thought of the marine's children and wife. It would be hard for them. Just like it had been for so many others. It made the Spartan really think about how sensitive the human body was. He became thankful that he had green suit of high tech armor surrounding him.
"They're all dead," Cortana said. "Let's go."
And with that, the Master Chief made a full sprint into the chaos that surrounded the landing pad.
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