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The War Through The Eyes of Earth by Mastchef
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The War Through The Eyes of Earth Part I
Date: 20 April 2005, 1:36 AM
0530 hours, June 11/ 2552
UNSC Barracks, High Alert
Pfc. Hank Ryder woke in his bed to the sound of air raid sirens blaring all over the base, as First Sergeant John "Angles" McKee shouted at them to get up and get ready. This was not another drill, those sirens are for emergencies only. Hank grabbed his MA5B-2A, an 8.9 lb automatic that wouldn't be able to hit anything that wasn't shoved inside the barrel, if it didn't have the two inch extension on its muzzle. The only reason the UNSC kept them in production, even if it is in limited numbers, is the attachable light grenade launcher that replaced the foregrip. Hank had the only one in the squad, everyone else had the standard issue BR55, except for Mike, the sniper, who not surprisingly used a sniper rifle. Then in only about half a minute, he jumped into his armor, and ran for the landing pad. He was one of the first ones out there and stood in ranks with the other man there. Hank recognized him right away. The man wore the solid black uniform and armor of the ONI special combat experts, and was loading various satchels into a long, thin weapons create labeled with the squads insignia of a burning line of trees with two men running into them. Then the Sgt came around, carrying two duffle bags.
"Here" The Sgt throws the bags to Hank. "Load these in the overhead storage."
"Yes sir."
At this point, the rest of 2nd squad showed up and were ordered into the Pelican. No role protocol. This was definitely not another drill. A few mechanics came up and attached a man sized box, and two smaller ones to the magnetic cargo strips at the rear of the craft, and by then the Sergeant had climbed in and the ship, loaded with all ten men of 2nd squad, 7th platoon, 3rd company, took off and bolted forward. This is when Hank and the rest of the confused men saw the entire 186th earth-side airborne division. All 150 something Pelicans flying full burn towards some location Hank wasn't sure even the pilots knew.
"Mind me asking where the hell we're going Sarg?" asked Mark "Ox" Winters, a big guy known for his college football days. "Or do you not know either."
"Well for your information smartass, I do know, but I just might not feel like telling you now." The Sarg answered without missing a beat.
"Well fine, I just might not feel like paying you that twenty bucks I owe you then."
"You don't pay me and I'll make sure your cleaning out the Warthogs after Gunnery Sergeant Steven's men get done with 'em. Now listen up, while you guys were all sleeping one off, the Covenant attacked, and got the crap shot out of them by the orbital guns." The squad became more alert when they heard this and some made remarks on how fast the fleet took the Covenant down.
"So why are we awake if the boys upstairs already put 'em down?"
"Well apparently, the other ships were some kind of suicidal guard for one of the carriers, and that carrier made it's way to our side of the atmosphere, and HighCom predicts them landing right on our doorstep." The mood in the small space became tense and quiet.
"Holy shit. I mean, excuse me for asking sir, but you mean the Covenant are landing...here?" A marine named Anastasia Wilks, a Russian girl who had hair like fire and could get a grenade anywhere she wanted to, asked the question everyone already knew the answer to.
"Bet your ass they are, but we're only looking at one carrier, and they don't know what we're packing." The Sarg walked to the rear of the craft and looked out at the rest of the division, tracking the Pelicans that split off from the main group to secure other areas of he city. "This is the day we've trained for, the reason that all of us have been together for all this time. We're ready, but don't let the fears of those that aren't trained like you fog your vision. Stay sharp, we'll take em." At this the Sgt walked back into the cockpit and began talking to the pilots, but no one could make out what he said.
Nobody was talking anymore, everyone was checking their gear or cleaning their guns. Hank just sat there, the closest one to the door on the left side. He just looking back at the two Pelicans that followed theirs away from the main group. The closer of the two he recognized right away, it was Major Owens' bird. His squad's Pelican had the most unique nose art, and the most battle scars in the entire division, and maybe in the entire Corps. Dents and welded metal patches spotted the ship all over, and a huge scrape down the whole length of the top of the fuselage was a centerpiece to the art. Major Owens and his squad had some kind of sentimental bond to that Pelican and its pilot, probably the only reason it wasn't scraped by now. Must be all of the crap they've ridden through in that thing. Hell, half the time the thing died the second it touched down, and had to be towed to the hanger by another Pelican. Just damn amazing it was still in one piece let alone flying. The paint job was a mock up of the Flying Tigers shark face design, but with flames curling off the back of the face, that came half-way down the sides and bottom of the craft. If that was anyone else's Pelican, they might be facing a court-martial for pulling that, but the Major had friends in the right places so it was here to stay. It may be prohibited, but damn it was pretty.
*Sorry for the lack of action, but I had to set up what was going on.*
Next: Touch Down.
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