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Protecting What's Yours. by hornet34
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Protecting What's Yours. Part 1
Date: 9 January 2003, 7:06 am
Aboard the Valiant Endeavor
Admiral Drier leans back in his chair. On his main monitor, three ships are engaged in battle. Plasma torpedoes sail from one of the ships, only to be answered with hundreds of Archer missiles from the other two. Small specks can be seen whizzing between the three larger vessels. These specks are seraph and longsword fighters, fighting suicidally between the massive exchanges of fire from each of the ships. Small flashes of light that once were fighters and huge explosions on the ships' hull speak to the ferocity of the battle. The Admiral watches intently, his expression one of envy, as he wishes his ship had been in range to participate in the fight. He continues to watch for a while longer, and then turns the monitor off, allowing himself the chance to think of what his life would have been like without the war. He is interrupted from his reverie by his intercom.
"Admiral, Lieutenant Castin and Captain Mentz here to see you."
"Send them in."
Two men enter; the first is a short, stocky man, his face weathered from numerous battles. The latter, the captain, is tall and muscular. The Admiral remotely closes the door and then reactivates the screen. Once again the monitor shows the raging battle between two UNSC ships and a larger Covenant destroyer.
The Admiral speaks first, "Hello, men. No time for formalities. What your seeing here is a battle between our sister ships the Valiant Enterprise and Valiant Venture, and an unknown Covenant destroyer. We believe the destroyer was scouting through systems, looking for settlements, when it came across our ships."
The Admiral rose to stand next to the screen and pointed to the Covenant vessel, it's hull missing several chunks. "As you can see," he continued, "our ships were able to inflict heavy damage on the destroyer. Unfortunately, though, both of our ships were forced to withdraw because of the punishment they received. The destroyer has landed on the uninhabited planet tagged M8932. We believe they are going to repair the ship, but we're not going to let them."
The captain spoke up, "so we're bringing the Endeavor in to finish it off."
"Not exactly. We feel bringing the Valiant Endeavor in to bombard the ship will leave it vulnerable to ambush. We're not really sure if there is other Covenant craft out there. Instead we will be sending in a strike team."
"So really you're sending a bunch of us in with no capital ship support" said the lieutenant.
"The Endeavor will remain stationed close by to provide support if it is needed, but we will be keeping our slipspace routes open."
"So what size force will we be sending in?" that was Captain Mentz.
"81 marines, nine squads strong. You're objective is to cut a path to any vital part of the ship, drop the bombs you'll be bringing, and get out with as few causalities as possible. Because of the extensive damage to the ship's hull, we believe many of the Covenant's troops were killed in the assault. You'll be dropped into their hangar, and will receive extraction there also. The planet has breathable atmosphere and a gravity of 1.18 in comparison to Earth's. The assault begins in twelve hours, so brief your men. Any more questions, no, then that's it. Good luck."
12 hours later
Surface of M8932
"Sensors clear, were approaching the destroyer now."
Lieutenant Castin listened to the pilot's report in his earpiece. On the stamp-sized screen over his left eye he watched as the two longsword fighters that escorted them positioned themselves in front of the hanger opening. He saw a few plasma bolts come out of the hangar, splashing harmlessly on the fighter's armor. In return, the fighters filled the hangar with hundreds and hundreds of bullets, not stopping till all active resistance was crushed. Then Castin felt acceleration as his Pelican zoomed in to secure the landing zone.
"LZ looks clear," that was the pilot again. "Be careful not to get your boots dirty smashing those covies heads in, I just had this washed so you'll have to find your own ride." That joke drew a little nervous laughter from the marines.
The Pelican set down and the marines poured out, quickly securing the entrances to the hangars. More Pelicans followed and soon the entire force was deployed. The marines then broke up into their pre-assigned groups. Alpha team was two squads of battle-hardened marines, led by Captain Mentz. Bravo team was two more veteran squads of marines, led by the Lieutenant. Two teams of rather rookie squads made up Charlie team. Captain Fuller led them, a man Castin believed was promoted based solely on the need for someone to lead the last team. The three remaining squads, Home Base, were charged with protecting the hangar. Two Pelicans remained in quick escape position, while the others flew out to a respectable distance and awaited the pick-up call.
"All right Alpha team, no reason to stay here, lets move out." Mentz and his team would be cutting a path to the destroyer's engines.
"Come on Bravo team," Castin yelled, "we ain't gonna let the Alphas finish before us."
Castin saw Charlie team also move out, and then they were on their way.
Bravo team moved down the hallways with two riflemen taking point. Right behind them was a soldier packing a shotgun and another well trained in the art of blowing things up. The rest of the soldiers followed but kept a couple dozen meters between them and the point men to protect themselves from an ambush. They crept through the maze of purple hallways on their way to the engine room in a tense fashion. They had covered almost 100 meters and had yet to see a single covie. Occasional comm chatter would fill them in about how the other teams were doing.
All of a sudden the peace was shattered with the hammering of twin assault rifles. Three grunts had been spotted. Two were now chunks of flesh and puddles of blood, the third turned quickly down another hallway and ran. Private Benson, one of the point men, rushed after it. He reached the hallway and flew around the corner, emptying the rest of his clip into the back of the grunts head. Only then did he look up to see two elites staring at him.
Castin jogged down the hallway, quickly looked down at what remained of the two grunts, and then heard an assault rifle fire. Benson's body came flying back from the other hallway; escorted by a dozen blue plasma bolts. The sheer amount of plasma that hit him quickly burned through his armor and superheated the water in his body, causing him to explode in a most gruesome matter.
"Henley, Stoops, get your asses up there. Potter, get a rocket ready."
"Yes sir."
"Alright, on my mark, Baker and Stratfield throw their grenades and then open up with assault rifles. Potter, your launch your rocket and then duck back here. Henley, Stoops, you two ready? You'll follow all these fireworks up with your shotguns. On my mark, 3-2-1- hit it!"
The two point men tossed their grenades and then peeked far enough around to rattle off their assault rifles at the two monsters down the hall. Bullets pinged harmlessly off the elite's shields until the grenades blew one elites completely down. Plasma fire came zipping in; one shot blowing Baker's head clean off. Potter then dashed across the hallway opening and let loose a rocket. The shot was off-target, but the blast did manage to finish off the unshielded elite. Henley and Stoops quickly charged with their shotguns, yelling as they did.
Castin watched as Baker was shot. Then Potter launched his rocket and his shotgun boys began their charge. He heard more plasma fire and several shotgun blasts, and the sound of bodies hitting the floor.
"All clear Lieutenant." Stratfield yelled.
Castin came around the corner and saw the two elites, one with his arm missing and legs bent at odd angles, the other lacking a good portion of his chest. Stoops's body was also on the floor. He kicked it over and saw that his chest plate was melted to his body; his eyes had a vacant stare. The smell of burnt flesh filled the hallways. Castin quickly overcame the nausea he was beginning to feel and ordered his troops to collect everything useful from the bodies and then prepare to move on. He also picked two new soldiers to join the point group. Time to check on the other groups.
"This is Bravo team, we just took down a couple of elites, how are you guys doing out there?" he waited, but no one answered, so he tried again. "I repeat, this is Bravo team, are you guys alright?" Again he got silence, so he tried to reach the troops in the hangar. "Home Base, are you there? Have the other squads checked in?"
"Home Base here. We just cleaned up a small patrol of covies, a couple causalities. No word from the other two squads for a while now."
Cold suspicion began to grow in Castin's mind. Maybe the destroyer had more troops than expected. Intel was wrong quite often. Or maybe they were headed towards a trap; that would explain the relative lack of resistance so far. He tried to reach the other units again.
"This is Lieutenant Castin, does anybody read me?"
"Lieutenant, this is Captain Fuller. Alpha team has been engaged. We've got hunters and elites."
And what was cold suspicion turned into pure fear
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