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Souls of War by CJ Champion
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Halo: Leave No One Behind----Part I of Souls of War
Date: 3 April 2003, 3:46 AM
John's expression couldn't be read beneath his reflective gold visor. One of his fellow marines, Neil, glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, trying to see through the amber plate sheilding his eyes. But no good. The Master Cheif always seemed brooding and impassive to him. Oh well, he thought, and went back to checking his assault rifle for flaws or knicks. He also reveiwed the mission in his head. They, along with the Master Cheif, were being sent to a remaining piece of Halo to recover the 7th UNSC Platoon.
"We're touching down in 5," commented their pilot. John whished just then that "Foehammer" wasn't gone. Carol Rawley, that was her name...
The Pelican carrying them sank slightly, then stopped, hovering. The hatch opened up with a hydraulic hiss, the world slowly materializing as the doors slid further up. The ring-world of Halo.
"It's go time!" another marine hooted excitedly. The Master Cheif was the first one out onto the ground, and proceeded to usher of remaining allies as they hopped off the carrier. Snow blanketed the ground,up to everyone's ankels. The white powder graduallly drifted down from the clouds. But there was no time for serenity.
There was a war to win.
Master Cheif lead a score (that's 20 you morons) of marines into battle, blue clad Elites itching to greet them. Their trigger fingers were itchy as well.
Plasma bolts erupted out of the aliens' rifles and into the squad of marines, currently splitting up. The blue bastard got lucky with its horrible aim and caught a marine in the stomach with a luminescent orb. The man staggered back, but kept on. He didn't want to find out if he was bleeding.
The Elites' assault was answered with the sting of 1000 diferent rounds, and the alien duo was literally cut down by gunfire. Purple blood splashed the snow as the their figure's twisted, crumpled, and fell. The wounded marine gave them both a couple more rounds just for good measure.
The band continued on across a frozen lake, taking in the mountainous formations around them. There surprisingly was hardly any Covenant adversaries to contend with. John almost kicked himself for feeling that secure.
A quick count took place in the Master Cheif's head as they advanced: 10 Grunts, 5 Jackals, 6 blue armoured Elites, and 6 scarlet Elites. Great. Oh wait, 4 Hunters too. Now it was just a matter of time as to when the opposing lines met.
Already, a Jackel was on the Mater Cheif. He spun around to meet it and dispersed a trio of bursts from his assault rifle, the last catching the vaguely bird-like creature in the leg. It faltered, then the Spartan bashed the butt of his rifle into the alien's head and completly shattered its skull. He turned and saw a blue Elite coming, and emptied the rest of his clip into the beast. It roared in pain, but still advanced. There was no time for the Spartan to reload, so he threw his rifle to the side for the moment to draw his pistol. One precise shot blew out the Elite's brains from the back of his head, spattering a heavy trail of gore and bone framents behind it. It all happened in mid-stride-- so the beast slumped to its knees, and then slid that way before hitting the snow never to get up.
John looked at his allies just then, and saw Neil get pummled by a scarlet Elite. The melee threw the human back 10 good feet, and he slid across the ice. Enraged, the Master Cheif ran over to the Elite (simultaniously picking up his rifle) and belted him in the face. The crunch of broken bones was heard, and the next second the Elite fell limply to the ice: a purple ribbon of blood lining its face.
"Oh...Oh my God!" Neil cried. The sounds of battle around him were completely drowned out by the pain. He discovered the Elite not only hit him with near all its force, it had shot him in the same blow. Neil gripped the burning plasma wound in his stomach, then took one hand away to survey it. That hand was covered in blood and a mixture of black, chared skin and armour. "God help me!" he said, putting his hand back on the wound and looking to the sun.
The outline of the Master Cheif suddenly appeared in front of the sun, and he knelt down by Neil. "Hang in there soldier," he said.
"Am I glad to see you!" Neil managed to choke out. He whimpered slightly looking to his wound, his mood changing. "What's 'gonna happen to me?"
John yanked Neil's hands away from the shot and looked at it. It wasn't a pleasant sight, but luckily he'd seen worse. "You'll be fine," the Master Cheif's stony voice assured. He looked up suddenly to see 3 Ghosts (Covenant hovercrafts, as if you didn't know) coming their way. He didn't want Neil to die, and was reluctant to leave him, but it had to be done. The Spartan rushed away without a word.
"Wait! Come back, please! Don't leave me!" Neil screamed. There he was then, alone and sobbing in the biting cold.
John prepared to take on the Ghosts and remaining Covenant, and ignored the discouraging and horrible sight of a marine being blown to pieces by a Hunter's plasma cannon. He vowed that no more would die than already did. It was an impossible promise, he knew. But he couldn't leave anyone behind.
The battle was yet to come.
Storming the Fortress---Part II of Souls of War
Date: 4 April 2003, 3:45 AM
Spartan 117 readied his assault rifle. 2 Ghosts were coming straight for him, their engines howling as they came. Instead of shooting at the hovercrafts, John decided it would be best to shoot at the pilots. The rifle's shells wouldn't do much to the purple hover-sleds. He took aim at the one to the left of him, still aware of the one behind him. They wanted a vice attack-sandwich him in. A couple quick bursts de-throned the Elite from its steed, the beast shreiking as it spiraled to the icy ground.
The Master Cheif spun to meet the other Ghost. It was so dangerously close it surprised him. He rolled to the side avoiding the vehicle just in time to save himself. In response, the Ghost pivoted and raced toward him again, the Elite's eyes steely as he squeezed the controls. Death in the form of blue plasma hurled itself at the Master Cheif from the Ghost's front-mounted rifles, the Spartan dodged it nimbly while shooting at his target. Then, BLAM. A stray shell hit the Ghosts fuel intake and it exploded in a firy inferno. The chared Elite was flung into the air, and landed already dead and burning with a thump.
2 less annoyances now. He rushed to another squad, Neil still in his mind. Spartan 117 was about to give them a hand with the Hunters.
"AAAARRRGH!" a marine fell dead at John's feet just then with a plasma burn covering his side. He had already broken that promise to himself, he realized. From then on he swore not to make one he couldn't keep.
"Nice to see you, sir!" a marine adressed the Master Cheif while simultaneously firing at a Hunter from mid-range. That Marine was Bill Roeskey.
Bill took a Hunter down by shooting it in that tender spot of flesh where it was exposed between its armor. He learned this tactic before in training, but didn't belive such a huge beast could be killed in such a fasion. I'll be damned, he thought. It worked.
John fired at the sensitive spot of another lumbering Hunter, killing it as well. The Covenant hit the ground cracking the ice. The rest of John's platoon caught on as well and the remaining Hunters dropped like flies.
They were definetly making progress. The Jackals were made quick work of along with the Grunts. The first battle was over, and the frozen plain was covered in blood of all kinds and colors, sadly some of it being human. "Did we lose anyone?" Bill asked John.
"2 that I know of," came his grim reply. He walked over to the corpses and ripped off their dogtags. The badly burned soldier was a certain Jim Karsal. The Master Cheif then retreived the dogtags off of what was left of the plasma cannon victim's body. Harry Russel. Damn, he thought. He put the dogtags in a compartment in his green armour. His squad followed him to Neil, that wound could be infected by now.
"Jesus Christ, the burn!" Neil Sanders screamed clutching his stomach.
"Someone get some dressings on this man," the Master Cheif requested. Gregg Jones immedietly complied. Jones opened up his emergency pack to tend to Sanders's injury.
"Get ready, Neil this is gonna hurt like a bitch," Gregg said. He spayed an antibiotic right into the puncture in Neil's stomach, and he screamed almost inhumanly loud.
"Come on, suck it up mang!" came the hispanic reply of Julio Rivera. He couldn't stand to see one of his fellow men cry--it almost made him physically sick.
Gregg wrapped some gauze tight around Neil's wound, then patted him on the back.
"Okay, lets move," The Master Cheif calmly but urgently commanded. Neil put an arm around Julio's shoulders for support as the squad ran down a steep snowy hill toward a Covenant fortress. Inside that fortress, was the platoon they were sent to rescue. And they would be rescued, John thought. They had to be.
The monocromatic metal fort loomed above the band of warriors. Gun turrents enclosing the walls on teirs that climbed higher and higher. It was a tall tower, octagonal in shape. The Master Cheif's keen eyesight spotted the telltale warpin in the air. There were Elites surrounding that base with active camoflauge. A lot of them equipped with energy sabers.
"Be careful, there are a lot of Elites around there," John informed his squad. They just now began to see the aliens. "It would probably be best to take them out from long distance."
"Gotcha," Bill answered for all of them.
"On 3," the Master Cheif's stony voice said. The faint clicks and clacks of guns being steadied was heard, then complete silence. "3"
Gun fire exploded out of 18 rifles, the weaker invisible Elites began to fall instantly. These Elites traded energy for stealth. Purple blood was spatttered in all directions contrasting the snow as the Elietes' bodies were shredded and crumpled by the barrage of bullets. Their low cries of pain filled the air. None of them knew where it was coming from: the marines were too far away. 5 left now...4...3...2...1. Done.
"Yeah!!!" Julio whooped, patting Neil on the back as to tell him, We did it! The first wave of security was felled. But that tower was damn tall, and the captured platoon was probably at the top.
"Time to storm the fort," the Master Cheif said. For the first time in years, a smile tugged at his lips.
Into the Fray--Part 3 of Souls of War
Date: 5 April 2003, 6:23 AM
The squad headed into the Covenant fortress, stepping over the bloodied corpses of Elites. "Any plans of attack?" Bill asked the Master Chief.
"You all know what you're doing, I know that," the Master Chief answered Bill and the rest of his company. "All I have to say is, if things get hot, get the hell out of there."
"But..."
"That's an order Roeseky," John finalized. They continued cautiously and quietly down the dim corridors of the fort until coming to a staircase. The Master Chief lead them up it, suddenly running into a crew of Grunts who frantically opened fire. Shots echoed through the halls, but it was silenced after a short while. The dead Grunts tumbled down the stairs leaving a path of glowing blue blood.
"Damn," Neil whined. He fell out of the support of Julio and slumped against a wall. The pain was getting in the way of his thought processes now. He knew he was dying.
"Don't leave us now, mang!" Julio said. He watched as Neil winced in agony, his breathing was jagged and short. A small skirmish took so much out of him... Julio realized. He wanted to do something... to reassure him maybe, or make him feel better... but there was nothing. "It's all 'gonna be okay,"
"Leave me, you guys," Neil wheezed. He looked to his bandage on his stomach. It was soaked with blood. "I'll only get in the way." Just then, he started to hack and cough uncontrollably, each one jarring his body. This is how it ends, Neil thought. This is where I die...
"No. You were never 'just in the way' Neil," Bill said. "You won a lot of important battles with us, we couldn't have done it without you." He knelt down and patted Neil on the shoulder.
"Remember that time the 10 of us were trapped in that crashed Pelican, but you single-handedly killed 8 Elites to ensure our safety? That's more than some get in a career," Elsie, the squad's sniper said, stepping forward. "Bill's right Neil, we couldn't have done it without you.
Footsteps were coming. John heard them: they could be 5 minutes away. He kept quiet however. "Thanks guys but..." Neil looked up the rest of the staircase above them with a pause, "I can't move, there's no feeling in my legs," he finished in a tone of grim, calm acceptance. Then they came, the Covenant were here.
The lead Elite took advantage of the marines huddled so close together by batting 2 of them down the staircase, killing them on contact. Their lifeless bodies tumbled down the stairs with a series of thuds. Neil shreiked in raw fear. The marines broke apart, all advancing up the stairs while concentrating on that Elite. It was downed, and fell slumped over a handrail. Jackals now, 3 to be exact. The Master Chief took the quick initiative to take one off its feet while unprotected by its sheild, and it flew down the hall with a spray of blood. Another tackled John head-on, but he threw it aside and shot it in mid-air.
Elsewhere, 4 Grunts teamed up to blast a marine from all sides, and with a scream Kelly Smith was sealed to be put in the record book as KIA. Another marine emptied a clip into the small pests, splattering glowing blue against the dark walls. He let out a frustrated yell of vengance for the fallen soldier, but then he was struck down by a plasma orb. This was getting serious. The Master Chief was sick of all this death, and primed a frag grenade. He tossed it into a solid group of the aliens with a yell, and it accomplished its goal by obliterating all around it: 2 Elites, 3 Jackals, 2 Grunts. No fellow soldiers thank God. Just a fleeing group of cowardly Grunts were left now. The marines chased the sons of bitches down like ravinous dogs and pumped hot lead into the group of 5, downing them all simultaniously. This was the first floor of ten. They would have to avoid battles like this next time if they even wanted to make it to the top.
John looked to Neil just then, and ran to him. "You can make it, come on," the Spartan said offering him a hand. Neil looked behind the Master Chief noticing the air warp behind him. He drew his pistol. The Master Chief waved his hand slightly as if to say, "Come on! Hurry!" as Neil took aim. An energy sabre was raised above the Master Chief. Neil squeezed the trigger.
The bullet pierced the shaft of the Elite's right eye, penetrating bone and cartilage for several centimeters before exploding and fragmenting into more than 1000 shards of shrapnel, blowing out the entire contents of the Elite's skull. The energy sabre was dropped and disintegrated with a hiss and the monster fell dead behind John. Neil gave him a wry smile while dropping his gun with a clink, and that was his last act. "Thanks," John said. "Thanks." he pulled off Neil's dogtags and read them, Neil Sanders: DOB: 10/06/203. He gripped them tightly while the other marines quietly stared. John's hands shook with anger.
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