Outlaw six: Epilogue
Posted By: Andres<firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 13 June 2006, 12:27 am
"Advancing towards the town, bearing three-two-five, Lion six, hit it," he looked away before the company of Grunts was consumed in a giant fireball. The small creatures had formed a very tenacious advance towards the Landing Zone and the only thing keeping hell above them was the Lieutenant.
"Good hit, Outlaw six?" Ricardo giggled on top of Saint Denis Hotel.
"On the village, single shooter, a sniper, house, lasing," the Lieutenant leaned the barrel of his firearm on the railing and pointed at the house with the Laser Range Finder above the muzzle of his MA-5H. The house disappeared almost instantly in a gray, blurry, cloud that formed after a white contrail struck it. "Good kill!"
"Sir," Ricardo turned around to face his caller. "We have to go." He was a Marine, not a trooper. He was well trained, equipped and understood tactical situations. Yet, he was no Helljumper thus, he lacked a certain six sense in battle.
"Indeed we do," said Ricardo. "But we can't just quite yet."
"How come sir?"
"We need cover something that keeps them pinned as I've been doing for a while."
Ricardo frowned. "Igor, are you guys ready to move down there?"
"Hostages are secure, stabilized and on the stretchers."
"Are you ready to move then?"
"Get on moving I'll keep them pinned as long as I can."
"Roger that sir."
"Outskirts, southwest, Jackals," the beasts advanced behind their shields on the grassy terrain fearless of the human weapons. They were tore apart by the one-zero-zero mike-mike rounds that formed a column of mushroom shaped clouds as the Longsword passed scratching the terrain.
"Igor you better move, its getting real tricky to wax these bastards."
Igor led the nine men, including himself, over the grassy terrain as they crouch ran towards the Albatross. The massive aircraft was not for combat, it was a transport, rescue, multipurpose workhorse the Marines and, particularly, the ODST loved. The C-SAR team, twenty Marines formed a straight line from the LZ to the town itself, a path on a minefield, if one could say that. They opened fire to both flanks to keep the Covenant away.
The folding stretchers were perfect for transport and it was all going really well until it all went to hell.
"Shit!" hollered Ricardo as the pair of Wraiths appeared out of nowhere. "Shifting priority, bearing one-three-three, two targets, armored, attack, attack, attack!"
The only remaining missile on the bomb bay of the Longsword descended through the open doors until it was on the air the rocket at the rear began to pour hot air out and it streaked away into the enemy armor. It struck one dead center, destroying it immediately.
"Good kill!" still there as the smoke clarified it remained clear that the second Wraith remained harmless. The cannon began to charge aiming at the Albatross- when something miraculous happened. Several hundred sparks began to appear on the rear of the vehicle. Ricardo backtracked the path of the orange tracers and found the origin. "Woods!"
One of the several hundred rounds found the plasma compartment and it ignited. It was a marvelous explosion.
He had been told their sacrifice would have been in vain, they, the ones that died, proved wrong the doubtful. The hundred orphans in the cabin proved them, the high rankers, that they were wrong. That hope was not to be left aside for desperation and that the UNSC had a shot. Not to destroy fleets or crush armies, but to save what humanity itself stood for. Hope, faith, freedom and courage.
Ricardo, the one who started the all the movement, knew that a court-martial was waiting for him and, if all went OK, a few medals. Yet, all that mattered to him was the child that rested on his shoulder.
All the innocence and hopelessness was washed away just as the immense battlefield was covered with white and gray clouds. All, the horrible feelings and moments, were left away. Everything that remained, the feelings of guilt and success, were left behind forever, yet, they would always remain.
"I thought we would never see you again ell-tee." Said Woods.
"Well," the third Wraith appeared out of nowhere and the last thing Ricardo felt was the intense heat as the plasma bolt approached.
The Lieutenant watched from the bridge of the freighter the last moments of Westwood, he had earned that awful right. The oceans, continents, everything made human and nature was gone, replaced by glass, ice and fire.
The fleet had lost fifty six ships and hundreds of fighters, millions were lost. Nonetheless humanity had recuperated that one thing it craved for. Humanity itself. That philosophy that one good life was priceless. No more would Marines refuse help the elder or abandon the young, grateful for that humanity was to a young Lieutenant of no value named Ricardo Nunez.