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Complete HAVOK: One Soldiers Story Pt.1 by Aleks Gingras

Complete HAVOK: One Soldiers Escape Part 1
Date: 10 January 2007, 2:42 am

The Pelican rumbled and flared its lift thrusters as it neared the ocean. The water stretched into a long foaming V-shape under the pressure of the heavily-laden crafts bow wave as it skimmed a few meters above the white caps. Cpl. James Smyth stood on the rear lip of the ship's troop bay, letting the water spray his face, it had been a while since he had seen earth water, and he loved every microscopic droplet of it, even though it was against regulation for him to be unstrapped and standing near the open end of the pelican, his commanding officer ignored it, he'd always say "let my men enjoy the last hour of their lives" he hoped that wasn't what he was doing.

"All Right, let's go over the plan one more time" A loud and in charge voice commanded every eye in the Pelican. James knew it was Sargeant "Covie" Atkinson, known for his suicidal get-the-job-done-at-any-cost tactics, which made him a lot like the Covenant, and his lack of fear for his own, or his men's lives made him a respectable man for any man of any rank. James turned right into Atkinson, who was glaring at him from a centimeter away, he saluted, and "Covie" returned it, spun on his heel and continued.

"We will fly in under the covenant detection systems, drop the most elite team I could get my hands on, and detonate the HAVOK's inside their home base near the former New Mombassa and send them on their own great journey to the stratosphere."
"HOORAH!" The men all cheered.
"Most of you- well... None of you will make it out alive, but if by some miracle you get away, just radio in, and we'll pick you up."

The men cheered again, they were all ready to die for the protection of earth, James wasn't so sure. He sat down and was about to fasten his crash strap when an explosion rocked the pelican and threw him from the seat. He landed face first on the floor, and jumped up and ran for the front to check the damage. He groaned as he touched the door, it must have been at least 400 degrees, and he suddenly knew what happened, the ship leaned forward violently and headed for the water. He ran to the back and jumped, narrowly missing the shield on the chain gun as he flew through the air. He looked back and saw other marines desperately trying to release their straps just before his vision blurred.

He hit the water hard and it blurred his entire mind for a moment, when he regained his sense he swam for the surface, he came up just in time to see the tail jets of the pelican going under, just a few hundred meters away. He swam for the sinking ship, but he was never a strong swimmer, or a good diver, so he waited just below the surface watching the pelican reach the bottom. He surfaced for air and went under to keep watching for survivors. He gave up and surfaced to look around for what had shot the D77, but the air was clear. He groaned, this was not the way he wanted to die, drowning in the ocean alone, especially not now.

Something rammed him from below, not a small hit either, but a heavy object moving at about 40 miles per hour shoved him out of the water. He glanced around and noticed the fog light that had almost broken his back, the Warthog; its pontoons must have disconnected it from the pelicans back and brought it to the surface. The warthog was completely waterproofed for the UNSC after a battle in the Tribeca Vitranii System had forced marines to walk while the rebels had outfitted their warthogs with waterproof gear and dominated the defenseless UNSC. That particular battle mirrored the many battles the UNSC had with the covenant, they were outnumbered and outgunned. The pontoons that brought the Warthog up were just an extra feature in case of deep submersion, he never thought they would come in handy, but there he was, sitting on a floating four-wheeler.

He leaned forward to cough and suddenly snapped to attention when he heard groaning, he spun around and saw a man in the driver seat gasping for air, James' rubber-coated boots squealed on the wet windshield as he slid off of it and into the passenger seat, trying to get into a better position for CPR, while old; the technique still had some uses on the battlefield. The man coughed water onto the already wet dashboard and took a deep, ragged breath, he leaned over panting, and a glint behind him caught James' eye.

Complete HAVOK: One Soldiers Escape Part 3
Date: 11 February 2007, 6:19 pm

The ground shook as the Mauler came over the crest just to the north of the facility. The mauler was essentially a Brute ghost; it looked a lot like the original purple version, except it was metallic-grey and bulky, with thick armor plates, and long pikes on the front and rear surfaces. The long pikes on the front of the mauler's wings were stained red with human blood. Corporal Anthony bared his teeth, "Get in the gun and kill that bastard!" James hopped out of the passenger seat, walked on the roll-bar of the hog and grabbed the turret's handles. He was lucky, just as he gripped the weapon's handles, the corporal had put the pedal to the metal, the Warthog leaped forward and James mashed the firing studs the gun fired a three round burst, and jammed.
"Son of a bitch" James swore at the LAAG as he tried to force the bolt on the side of the weapon back. "Abort, the gun's jammed!"
Anthony didn't hear him, instead he ordered James to fire. The distance was closing between the LRV and the mauler, and as soon as it came in range, the hovering vehicle opened up. Red plasma burned the front of the warthog and melted holes in the windshield. James was completely exposed and he would die if they got any closer, so he forced the bolt harder.
The jammed bullet finally gave way and James mashed the firing studs down, only 15 rounds exited the barrels before a red beam cut the mauler and its pilot in half. Anthony froze up from shock and rammed the wreckage, the warthog flew through the air and tumbled down the hill it had climbed to assault the mauler. James flew off the gun and landed on his back on a patch of un-burnt grass. He lay there gasping for air. The wind was knocked out of him when he hit the ground and he desperately tried to get it back. Slowly, darkness clouded his vision, starting from the edges and moving in to the centre, he lost consciousness.
"Is he alive?"
"I think so"
James could hear voices, one was Anthony's but the other he couldn't quite make out. He opened his eyes and looked right at the sun; he squinted and rolled on his side.
"Yeah, he's alive all right" the strange voice joked about his condition. He rolled to his knees, but gravity still overpowered him, and he toppled back over. Anthony looked him over once, and then commented on how James was doing.
"Well, no blood, but you did really take a shit-kicking, wear your seatbelt next time" James grinned and grabbed Anthony by the neck, not enough to hurt him, but enough to get his point across.
"No more jokes, I could have died, okay?" James spat blood into the dirt as he spoke. Anthony was shaking, but he nodded. James released his neck and another hand grabbed his shoulder and picked him up. James turned to face a small man who was picking him up off the ground; the man brushed off the grass on James' back then walked around him checking for anything amiss. The man had a distinct look to him, he was Caucasian, but he didn't look American.
"My name is Alexei Grushkov; I believe I saved your lives." The man introduced himself, and from what James knew, his name, Alexei Grushkov, and his heavy accent was likely to be European, possibly Russian.
"You mean that red beam was-"
"Yes, one of our newest weapons, the Spartan Laser, designed by Russian scientist, Grindell, good friend of mine"
Alexei raised the weapon to his shoulder, and it was almost half as big as him, a small laser sight emitted from a port below the disfigured green box's barrel. The weapon also had a small Wyrd III scope capable of 2X magnification mounted on the left side of the weapon's frame. James overcame his awe over the amazing weapon, and searched for the warthog.
"Where's the 'hog?" he kept scanning the ground but couldn't spot it.
"It's down the hill, a little bit banged up, but it'll run." Anthony pointed to the dented Warthog lying sideways at the bottom of the hill, its dark underbody camouflaging it with the brown dirt.
James checked himself over, brushed off any dirt that Alexei had missed and started down the hill, with Anthony and Alexei in close tow. James checked his holster for his SPAM'R, he was thankful that it was still there. James reached the warthog first, and he jerked on the bumper trying to roll it back over. He grunted as the Warthog slowly began to roll onto its tires, his two-man crew grabbed the top and groaned as they tried to push it over. The 4 wheelers tires crunched on the gravel as it leaned closer and closer to righting itself; finally gravity assisted them and rolled the half-sideways vehicle onto its wheels. James hopped in the driver's seat; Alexei climbed up the bumper and pulled the bolt back on the LAAG to cock it, and Anthony rode shotgun, Assault rifle at the ready. The engine screamed as James put it to the floor; they were going to return the favor for what the covenant did to the Kilimanjaro Military base.