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Halo Conflict by Delta Team Curt
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Second Battle of the Atlas Moons
Date: 14 October 2008, 8:17 pm
// Intermission 1 // February 12th, 2564 (MST) // 2100 hours
"Looks like we have a Straggler"
A single contact appeared on the display, the orange square slowly moving across the screen. The small symbol was identified as the UNSC Vitality moving just under 500 meters per second towards the UNSC colony of Atlas.
Michael Davis watched the freighter limp towards the distant colony through the viewport, the massive construction of titanium and steel merely a grey speck at this distance, a minor detail to be lost against the surface of the planet by an untrained eye.
"We are ready aboard the Welsh; our formation is willing to attack when you give the command" the distinct accent of a Swede coming over the COM system.
The Annex floated above the Trinity Spaceport, the massive complex built upon potions of both the Helena and Athena moons around the planet. The two were prime candidates for its construction, the two satellites of Atlas locked in orbit around the planet within twenty thousand kilometers of each other and slower than their other counterparts. Morgan Industries maintained a massive twenty percent stake in Trinity, allowing the United Liberation Front ships a safe base of operations to launch their campaign.
Davis had always been around space flight all his life, this was his territory. His father and mother had been in the Merchant Marine, he himself born aboard the Damascus in 2498 to Anna and Richard Davis. The old freighter had lasted up until the Human-Covenant War, where it was sacrificed at the Battle of Rhodes to serve as a decoy, he and his family being herded aboard a UNSC Destroyer and shipped back to Earth. Perhaps it was there the seeds of discontent were sown, watching the ship that he had lived and served upon drift lifelessly in orbit around Rhodes.
"Sir?" questioned the Welsh's captain.
Davis went over the situation in his head; two UNSC Apocalypse-class Frigates were stationed around the Space Elevator on Atlas, the two hulks more than enough to fight off a raiding party made up of Yacht sized vessels. If the freighter managed to send a distress signal they could be in for a very stiff fight.
However, he had the numerical advantage, and if worst came to worst he could call to arms the ninety-eight ships he had under his control. Despite the widespread weapon of choice being simple mass drivers, in concert the fleet could take down even a Marathon with enough blows.
"Proceed with the raid, the rest of the fleet our fleet will lay in weight should the fascists choose to show their face." commanded Davis.
"Ma'am, 5 unidentified contacts moving towards the Vitality" relayed a young woman. Captain Valerie Rogue watched the 3D environment displayed by the holotank aboard the bridge of the UNSC Munich, 5 small avatars of private vessels moving at a pretty good clip towards the much larger freighter.
"They took the bait; now let's see if the rest of their friends are around. Miller, relay orders for the York and Southampton to engage"
UNSC JAVELIN Fleet was positioned behind the moon Troy, the twenty five ships awaiting orders to attack the rebel faction that had plagued the system for years. The bulk of the collection was the common Frigate, pulled from active combat to help repulse the ULF. Divided into three battlegroups, Harbinger and Resource were led by Harvest-class destroyers, leaving Battlegroup Azure headed by the single carrier in the ad-hoc fleet. Rogue bit her lower lip as the two Frigates moved away from the elevator and towards the decoy, hoping that they had found more than a little group of pirates.
Come out of your hole… she thought to herself.
As if by her command, a cluster of twenty or so contacts appeared leaving the spaceport, moving towards the unfolding battle.
"Battlegroups Harbinger and Resource will engage immediately. The Azure and her Battlegroup will hold back and launch her interceptors." Rogue commanded, thrilled that they had found what they were looking for.
The assembled warships propelled themselves forward, coming out of hiding and pushing forward towards the Vitality, formations of Longsword Interceptors following their larger brethren into battle.
"WHERE THE FUCK DID THEY COME FROM!" yelled Davis, watching on his monitor as sixteen ships and dozens of Longswords moved towards his fleet.
"I don't know, but we can't fight them with the few ships here, we need everyone we can get out here!" yelled one of the many captains.
The UNSC vessels had appeared out of nowhere, not even a translation from subspace to give them away. Now a quarter of his fleet and his best ship captains were being thrown to the mercy of the fascists. Only 6 of the ships already being engaged had a Shaw-Fujikawa drive, meaning he would be sacrificing a fifth of his fleet and risking damaging the shaky image of the ULF among colonists.
Davis closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair and contemplating what his next step would be. He needed help; even outnumbering the enemy 5 to 1, that meant nothing when the enemy fleet most likely had a hundred times the tonnage of his own. They couldn't win alone, if they wanted to have even a slim chance the captains around the space port would have to participate in the upcoming showdown. Sitting up, Davis switched his radio to CIVCOM and took a deep breath.
"This is a broadcast intended for every sailor in the surrounding area. The misguided pawns of the UNSC are here, they want to put down our 'rebellion' in order to keep their fascist ideals a reality. Look at what the military has done, look at how long it took them to cast away their former government and claim to be the rightful leaders of the Human Race.
While they are busy trying to maintain control, we wish to spread the ideals of Democracy! The ULF fights to defend our most basic rights, something that no organization, man, or idea should ever be able to take away. Now, help us fight, help us win our freedom from this oppression, fight for your own rights!"
Davis stood up, looking out the viewport as ships were moving out from the hangars of Trinity and towards the growing conflict. The ships going out to battle were his, not one sailor was willing to join them. He would need a miracle to lead the ULF to a victory here, a god dammed miracle.
The Harbinger accelerated towards the oncoming enemy vessels, pushing its Ion Engines to their limits. Commander O'Grady watched as almost a hundred enemy contacts were identified on his Tactical Display, all organized into neat orderly formations like his own.
"We have sixty in the tubes, forty with the frigs, fire all remaining missiles, Sir?" asked the weapons officer.
"Flush them, lets show all these bastards we mean business" ordered O'Grady.
"Affirmative, preparing to launch"
8 to 27, hardly seems fair.
"All ships, prepare to launch missiles on my mark"
The holographic display changed as new information was run through its rendering computers, red arcs from the UNSC vessels reaching out to the smaller opponents.
"Three… Two… One… Mark."
"Archers away"
One hundred Archer ship-to-ship missiles burst forward out of their launch tubes, the battlegroup expending all of its missiles in its first salvo. The large missiles synched their targets as they were fired, its onboard guidance system firing the small propulsion jets that ran along the exterior of the Archers.
The enemy ships instantly broke formation, firing their engines and attempting to evade the oncoming attack. The smaller agile ships of the fleet were the hardest targets to hit, the missiles running out of propellant before they could catch their targets. The larger yachts and freighters were not as lucky, their maneuverability outmatched by the Archers.
C709 Longsword Interceptors followed the Archer barrage, pilots picking targets and conversing with their ships of origins for commands. Alpha 76 opened fire first, launching his four ASGM-10 Missiles, the fifteen other Longswords following suite.
The faster more agile missiles were far more accurate, hunting down their prey with extreme precision. The smaller missiles struggled to keep up with their targets, but the faster projectiles managed to destroy fourteen more enemy ships. Expending their weapon payloads, the Longsword formations engaged their targets, opening up with their 110mm and 120mm rotary canons.
"They are tearing us apart, we've lost almost a third of our fleet already!" a frantic voice yelled over the multitude of other transmissions.
The rebel faction was desperately trying to regroup; the captains disoriented and without command. Davis watched his once disciplined fleet race around trying to avoid their pursuers, the transmissions from then sounding like that of panicked children shouting for help. If he couldn't get his fleet to straighten up right here and now there would be no chance of any of them coming back alive.
"Dahlquist! Is your formation still together?" Davis questioned over the radio.
The computer automatically sorted out the Welsh from the hectic radio traffic, isolating it and routing it over Davis' COM system.
"We lost the Victory and the Iowa took some damage flying through debris." replied the Swede.
"I want your formation to seek out, and destroy their command vessel. If we can upset their command we may have a chance to force a retreat." ordered the rebel commander
"But how will we…"
"Find it Dahlquist, your men know what to look for, you have the equipment"
"Affirmative, Sir." was the reply.
Richard Dahlquist piloted the Welsh through numerous hazards around him. His allies were darting every which way as UNSC Longswords and ships pursued them, trying to annihilate the ULF ships.
Switching on his COM scanners, Dahlquist searched for the UNSC frequency, going over the normal bands used by the fascists. He was surprised to find the main COM channel totally unencrypted, the transmissions coming from the Munich clearly pointed it out to be the command vessel.
"Looks like we have a guardian angel boys; the Munich's our target!" called Dahlquist to his fellow captains "Lets see if we can't strike a blow!"
The four remaining raiding ships pulled together, finding each other and creating a temporary formation. They spotted the Munich in a pack FFGs moving toward the conflict, the five warships on the edge of the warzone and getting closer.
"They'll break up if we give them something to chase, Jones has that mini-MAC on his ship, I'm sure they'd go after him." came from the Forrest's captain.
"Do it!"
"Harbinger, regroup around Trinity and set up a perimeter, Resource push the bastards to them and don't let them even think of running!" Rogue ordered.
The rebels were doing exactly as she expected, once the shock of loosing so many allies took hold, the rest were to busy worrying about self preservation to repel their attack. It was easy to manipulate them now, playing with them like toys and bending them to her will.
"The Jamestown just took a hit, looks like some of the ships have mass drivers or small MACs" relayed the operations officer.
Rogue watched the holotank as the Jamestown's avartar turned to yellow then pulled back from the side of the Munich.
"Have the Nevada and Kansas pursue that little fucker, make sure its obliterated. Battlegroup Azure needs move forward, we need all the extra firepower we can get!" Rogue commanded.
Rogue watched Miller as he simply stayed motionless, not even relaying her order to the other ships. The Captain stood up, outraged that the Comms Officer would ignore one of her commands.
"Miller! Relay my order now!" she shouted
She started fuming as the man simply spun in his chair to face her, showing no signs of complying wither her.
"I DO NOT TOLERATE INSUBORDINATION, RELAY MY ORDER NOW" she screamed at him.
Miller looked down at the deck, reaching under his chair and retrieving a fifty caliber M6G and standing up. Rogue stood speechless as the man raised the gun level with her, not knowing what to say as one of the men who she had trusted with her life seemed like he was about to take it by his own hand, his eyes betraying no emotion.
"Your authority is meaningless 'captain' Rogue. Your government is a sha-"
Navigation Officer Melissa Locklear jumped towards the empty console, hoping that she could call for help. Catching the sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, he quickly turned his body and lined the sights up with the woman, firing a single shot.
Locklear fell to the floor, receiving a nasty blow to the head as she landed against the wall. The bridge crew instantly became quiet as they watched the assailant stand over the fallen officer. Rogue was in shock as Melissa fell to the floor, the only sign of life was the slight rise and fall of her chest.
"Gates. Slow the ship to 300 meters per second and don't try anything" Miller ordered, aiming the pistol at the officer.
"Did someone already hit the Munich?"
"Why, what's happening?" asked Dahlquist
Richard looked up, trying to pick the Munich out of the skirmish. It was basically stopped, trailing the other Frigates charging into battle ahead of it. Did that round hit the Munich? No, the Jamestown claimed to be hit; the Munich even ordered ships after the vessel responsible.
"Prepare for attack run regardless, if they want to expose themselves, let their foolish choice be the last!" commanded Dahlquist
The formation gunned their engines, the UNSC fleet was oblivious to them; the larger capital ships too busy chasing others to notice the organized group. Dahlquist was surprised as he noticed some of Davis's ships were actually trying to battle with Longswords and Frigates, a few even scoring hits on their targets.
"Take aim for the Vitals and fire on my Mark!"
"Affirmative, arming weapons"
The raiders pushed their vessels to the breaking point, moving as quickly as any ONI Prowler or Corvette could. The captains aboard the smaller ships took aim for the more vital parts of the Frigate, hoping to inflict as much damage as possible. The projectiles hit the ship in unison, striking the Munich with surprising precision.
The most devastating blow was to the reactor, the 60 ton round colliding with the assembly and burrowing the entire construction into the bowels of the ship, power and data lines being cut as it was pushed almost 20 meters into the vessels structure.
"What can the UCC do that the UNSC can't Miller?" asked Val, trying to negotiate with the man.
"Your 'government' couldn't even handle reconstruction without suspending the UN and tearing up its own constitution, what do you think a militaristic government could do than a democratic government could not?" countered Miller.
"Rebellion and Corruption are the reason we had to do this, we can't fight–"
Without warning the entire ship was shaken by the impact of the four tungsten slugs delivered by the rebels, sending Miller and Rogue to the floor as the Munich moved beneath their feet. The various displays and monitors lining the command deck were shattered by the massive shockwave, wiring becoming exposed and showering sparks over the officers. The holotank display flickered and died as power cycled on and off, shutting down completely as emergency systems snapped on.
Gates reacted on pure instinct to the confusion, sprinting from his chair and towards the doors that exited the Bridge. Miller reacted quickly, getting to his knees and aiming the weapon at the fleeing officer. He squeezed the trigger, sending the fifty caliber round into the man's neck, a fine pink mist filling the air around the wound before his corpse fell to the ground.
The computer systems that managed to survive the initial impact were now trying to save the crippled ship as the reactors went critical, blowing preset charges in the ship in an attempt to jettison the possible bomb. Explosive bolts under the armor plating sheared away the outer barrier; another explosion sent the reactors towards the newly opened hole in a vain attempt to spare the Munich from catastrophe.
The assembly exploded only 50 meters from the Munich, vaporizing about 9 meters of the ship instantly and sending another shockwave through the already damaged hull. The entire structure buckled under the energy, entire sections of the ship were exposed to vacuum as the metal gave way.
Miller quickly scrambled to his feet, pointing his gun towards the remaining officers. He pulled the trigger and sent Ensign Brady to his death, a spray of sticky red blood coating his console. Miller then turned his attention to Foreman, pausing and locking eyes with the man before he pulled the trigger. Isaac watched as the man froze and an opportunity opened, the 45 year old man jumping from his seat and rushing the traitor. Miller was unprepared for the retaliation, only managing to realign his weapon at the last possible second and firing three shots.
Foreman immediately pounced on Miller, taking him to the floor and landing on him. Lifting himself up he instinctively started punching Millers head, trying to subdue his opponent. Rogue quickly went for the combat knife she carried on her belt, her hands shaking from pure fear as she attempted to get a grip on the handle.
The younger officer tried to keep Millers hand with the Magnum pinned to the ground, raining blows down on him over and over. Through pure luck, Miller managed to slip his hand out from Foreman's grasp and swinging the pistol at him. The bulk of the weapon made contact with the man's face, causing him to get up and stumble back as he held his face. Raising the gun, Miller let off a single round, the high explosive rounds passing through his upper neck, separating his spinal cord from his brain and killing him instantly.
Rogue screamed as she jabbed the knife into the man's side, Miller reacting by grabbing the smaller woman and trying to throw her to the floor. Val wrapping her arms around him and bringing him to the ground then released him and delivered a punch to his jaw. Miller hit back, using his strength the roll over on top the woman and hit her again. Rogue grabbing and twisting the knife that was still lodged mans chest, blood flowing down the black handle and covering the Captains uniform with the red viscous substance.
Miller let out a yell of agony and tried to raise the Magnum, only managing to get level with her stomach before his hand contracted and fired the last round in the pistol. With pure adrenaline running through her veins Rogue rolled Miller over, retracting the knife from the wound and then plunging the combat knife back into his body.
She repeated the motion, each time getting quicker and more aggressive. Rogue thrust the knife into the body one last time, the usual steeled Naval Captain sobbing as she pulled the knife out and let it clatter to the floor. She slowly pulled herself off of the man, sliding herself over to Melissa. Rogue looked down at her side; her uniform tattered from the entry, blood soaked the material. The pain was temporarily blocked out by the hormones rushing through her system, her mind racing to make sense of what had just happened.
Rouge took a deep breath, the sharp pain too much even for the adrenaline to override. Rogue had stopped crying, instead trying to figure out what her next step was. The ship once again was shaken as armories started to go up, further damaging the already weakened structure of the ship. Val knew that she had to get off the ship, the entire thing was breaking up and it wouldn't be long before the Munich lost pressure.
Moving closer to Melissa, she checked for signs of life. The woman's pulse was barley there; the bullet had passed just inches away from her trachea and entered just beneath her shoulder. Propping herself against the wall, Rogue hobbled to her feet; pain shooting up her side and her mind screaming for a stop to the movement.
The years of physical conditioning helped her stand, albeit quenching her teeth and yelling out in pain. Taking deep breaths the Captain tried to ignore the pain, instead focusing on saving the life of the young navigation officer. Going down to her knees, Rogue flipped over the woman, moving her mass over to the wall and putting her back against it. If she was going to save her, she would have to carry her, and in her current state that was going to be easier said than done.
"The Munich's breaking up; Captain, command has been transferred to you, Sir" announced the COMs officer aboard the Harbinger.
O'Grady was worried about the sailors aboard the Munich, so far only 8 life pods had been deployed, leaving hundreds still aboard the dying vessel. Captain Rogue had been a pretty close friend, and only a few minutes before the ship had slowed to a near stop. Something wasn't right, something happened on the ship.
"Treaty just took a hit, looks like moderate damage to her engines. The remaining ULF are starting to get organized" informed the operations officer.
Only about forty enemies remained, they had lost a ship and six others had taken damage that was enough to take them out of the fight. The battle was getting ugly, both sides lashing out with every possible attack in the book. Some of the rebels had resorted to literally imitating suicide attacks and crashing their ships into UNSC Vessels.
The long corridor seemed like the hallway from hell, the ship heaving and moving almost every minute, forcing Rogue to drag her, and Locklear along the floor. She knew that they had to move faster, at this rate they would take fifteen minutes to reach the lifepods, and there might not be any left at that point.
As if sent by god, a marine sergeant appeared from a doorway only feet from the two wounded officers. Rogue thanked her as he knelt down to help her and Locklear, his calm voice reassuring her that everything was going to be alright.
"Ma'am, can you walk?" questioned the marine.
"Yes, but Locklear is unconscious" she answered.
"If you can, help support her right side as much as possible, I'll help you get to B-Deck" he said, trying to give a small smile to reassure her.
Rogue did as she was told, putting Locklear's arm around her shoulders, the soldier doing the same thing. Together they started to move forward, the Captain shutting out the pain and keeping pace with the marine.
Davis had watched the entire battle pan out on his monitor, the Annex not even leaving the relative safety of Trinity. His fleet was being systematically destroyed, loosing ships every minute at this point. Only five slipspace capable ships remained, the raiding party and his own vessel. He now debated on ordering Dahlquist to flee along with him, the minimal damage his fleet was doing was not worth much, most of the vessels would be back up and fighting in days.
"Dahlquist, is your formation still together?"
"Yes, we are holding out"
Now came the decision, order them to their deaths and keep fighting, or run with their tail between their legs, dying for nothing or living to fight another day.
"Jump to Achernar, this battle is all but lost; do not sacrifice your lives for nothing."
"Yes, Sir" Dahlquist sighed.
The elder man closed his eyes as he activated the slipspace drive aboard his ship, entering the coordinates without even looking at the display. This wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to loose with such a noble cause behind him, this wasn't right.
"Thank god there's one left, looks like we're gonna make it" the marine smiling as they entered the Bumblebee.
The three clambered into the lifepod, gently placing Locklear in one of the eight crash seats lining the vehicle. Rogue painfully made her way to the pilot's seat, activating the Bumblebee and placing the helmet over her head.
"Wait!" yelled the marine
Four armor-clad soldiers rushed into lifepod, one identified as a naval corpsman by the red cross on her helmet and shoulder. Rogue sealed the hatch, blowing the hatch and activating the engine systems, the entire Bumblebee rocketing out of the dying vessel and into the void of space.
After seeing the injured officer, she quickly retrieved the onboard Health Pack, setting it on the seat next to Locklear.
Sarah Peirce was a highly experience corpsman, having served on the battle field for nearly 4 years. Quickly pulling the Polypseudomorphine from the pack, Peirce held it to the light and slightly depressed the plunger and allowed a small amount of the medicine to squirt out in order to rid it of air bubbles, then placed the tip near the wound and pressed the hypodermic needle into the skin.
Next she grabbed a field dressing from the health pack, placing the wrapper in her teeth and tearing open the package. Using her free hand, Peirce withdrew her combat knife and cut away the tattered material covering the wound, using the cut away part of her uniform to wipe away the blood pooling around the wound. Applying the dressing would not solve the problem, but it would stop the blood loss and allow time to get her to a hospital.
Rogue activated the autopilot, setting the lifepod on course for the edge of the battle; if she turned the ship around the craft would be so slow that it would take hours to reach Atlas. The more attractive option was to get the Bumblebee a safe distance from the battle, and sit tight for pickup. Turning on the emergency beacon, Valerie climbed down from the pilots chair and slowly made her way over to the Corpsman treating Locklear.
Peirce looked up at Rogue, then down to the wound on her side. She grabbed the biofoam canister and a field dressing from the health pack, handing them to the Captain.
"It hurts like hell, but you're going to need it" Peirce told her.
She nodded, sitting in the seat next to Locklear. Rogue pulled the plastic sheath off the needle, pushing it through her skin just below her ribcage on her left side, the biofoam expanding and filling her abdominal cavity, stopping the blood loss. She ripped the side of her uniform open, allowing her to see the extent of the wound, and then used her hand to clear the crimson substance from the entry wound before adhering the dressing.
"She's coming too" Peirce blurted out.
Rogue watched as Locklear slowly opened her eyes and then turned her head towards her. She smiled despite the situation, not wanting the younger woman to worry.
"What… what happened" she asked.
"The ship was hit, we made it out" Val told her.
Locklear looked around the cabin of the lifepod, obviously recognizing it for what it was. She then saw the field dressing, her expression turning to confusion as she realized that it was a bullet wound.
"Miller, he… he…"
Rogue used one of her arms to pull the young woman closer to her and holding her tight.
"Its over, we're both fine" Rogue reassured her.
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