 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
Concept Art
Halo Bulletins
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
ARG Forum
Links
Admin
Submissions
Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Fourteen hours later
Brass HQ: Alpha Base
"This is unacceptable!" The Colonel roared standing from his place at the table inside the Brass's HQ concealed on the island of Alpha Base. "Another outpost taken by the enemy? What were your men doing Captain? Sleeping?"
Steele looked up from the floor and glared at Ackerson, yet he did not respond for another few seconds. "I lost men in that engagement, with all due respect Sir, show respect for the men who died to protect a coward such as you." Steele replied with icy cool.
"I'd have you court-martialed Captain if you were not considered an asset by my colleagues!" Ackerson shot back.
"Bring yourself under control, Colonel, as of now." General Harper ordered, ignoring the fact the Captain too was out of line. Ackerson turned to glare at Harper but an MP behind him set a forceful hand on his shoulder and sat him down.
"Do to the tragic loss of Admiral Hood and his men, we're left to the strength of the Military to keep Humanity alive, as for you Colonel, we need your Shock Troopers, but I can promise you, I will give the command of your battalions to Captain Heim if you do not start showing respect for your comrades in arms." Harper stated coldly. Ackerson continued to glare at Harper but gave a reluctant nod that was barely noticeable. Steele stood without moving, hands clasped behind the small of his back, he legs slightly spread apart.
"I think your debriefing is complete now, Captain, you may go, and I'm sorry for the loss of your men." Harper said and Steele acknowledged him, saluted and strode out the door. Once the man had left Harper began again. "Gentlemen, I have excellent news for the UNSC…the Earth Campaign is in its final phase…but Colonel Darling informed me that they will need a small amount of time…Gentlemen my point is that we will not be leaving this Ring. The Spartacus will be transporting the majority of our Marines back to Earth…while I, and the volunteers that have taken a step forward, will arm and detonate a NOVA bomb inside this facility, destroying the Ring and the Covenant Fleet with it…" Harper drawled. Ackerson stood and strode for the door, a tremble with each foot fall. Two Marines side stepped across the doors and blocked his exit. He tried to push through but both of them drew their pistols. Ackerson slowly stepped back, his palms out towards them. "Sit down Colonel, as to recent reports, I have seen that you've volunteered for the defense of this base while the NOVA is set to go off. Ackerson's face turned to pure horror as he ran his hands through his hair. The man was a coward and nothing more, his path to being an officer was immoral and full of deceit, while his true colors rose unmistakably to the surface of his face. Ackerson's rage was unmistakable, his hand trembled as he reached for his pistol, but before he could act the MPs grasped his upper arms and dragged him out of the room. Ackerson cursed and sneered, and was thrown into his own office, two watchful Marines standing guard.
John strode into the ONI conference room, only pausing to straighten a few unnoticeable wrinkles in his seldom worn dress uniform.
"Ackerson needs to stifle his bigotry for the other branches of the Military sometime soon, he needs to realize that the ODSTs and the Marines are too few to be the backbone force of our ground troops, and that means pulling Army from the colonies that hold no more strategic value to the UNSC, but since he has proved his cowardice in the face of battle, and his reluctance to accept unity with our own soldiers…Captain Heim, you have command of his battalions, and for now, Ackerson will not be considered an officer of the UNSC — Master Chief, its good to see you again, son." Harper informed his fellow tacticians while John had taken his position at the centre of the room. "Here's the NCO of our 'volunteers' gentlemen, Master Chief?"
"John's mouth grew tighter and barked, "General, Sir. My Spartans will be arriving within the hour Sir." John drew his breath. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
"Granted Chief, go on."
"Sir, I believe my team and I can deal with the Covenant fleet in orbit without the loss of more valuable officers…but I cannot promise the survival of myself and my team, although, I believe Spartan 026 and his men would be capable of escorting you and your staff to the Spartacus."
"Highly unlikely 117, I refuse to leave without my men, but out of curiosity, tell me your plan." Harper replied.
John began to chew his tongue for a moment, and then cleared his throat. "Sir, my team and I would infiltrate the Covenant CP, only a few clicks from here, find means of transportation to exit the atmosphere, and board the Covenant Cruiser known as the God's Wrath. After the Cruiser is under our control, we would kill as many of the enemy in orbit as we could, then jump from the system just before we are destroyed, rendering ourselves doomed, but successfully leading brunt of the Covenant force away from Halo, and buys enough time for the UNSC fleet to arrive to escort you and your Marines back to Earth."
Harper leaned slightly back in his chair, and brought the tips of his fingers together and silently mulled over his strategic options. Captain Heim stood. "General Harper, Sir, I volunteer for the Master Chief's mission, Sir." Captain Foley stood as well. "Sir, I volunteer for the Master Chief's mission, Sir." Harper beamed at the Spartan and the two standing officers.
"Permission for this mission would be granted Chief. But there's just one flaw…there is no UNSC fleet coming to our rescue, the Spartacus will be jumping in a few hours, along with the Command shuttles from all over the rest of the Ring, since the NOVA is set to go off in four hours form now. But if you believe you can cause more damage to the fleet from inside the vessels, you have my permission to do so, but no matter, I am staying here with my staff to make certain that all goes as planned on the surface, hopefully, once Theta Base bugs out, the Covenant will close on this position."
"I understand, Sir, I would be happy to defend Alpha base to the end, Sir." John replied.
"What are you talking about, Chief? Your team's infiltration of the enemy fleet would throw the Covenant's operations off, while the Marines cause havoc on the ground and in orbit, but if you don't mind, I'm going to modify the mission template slightly." Harper began. "Captains Foley and Heim, will brake off from the Spartacus at the last possible moment, take their platoons straight into the Covenant Cruiser, where they will split up and capture both Engineering and the Bridge. But the Weapons Control Room is usually the most secure; therefore, the Spartans will capture it just before proceeding with the mission. Now, the only way to effectively capture the Cruiser with as little contact as possible, is to use previous tactics, being that sealing all corridors that do not pertain to the mission, and also to impede the Covenant's assault waves from reaching the launch bays which Folly and Heim will capture. I will leave it up to you Master Chief rather to search the detention centre or capture the Communication Control, that will e decided by the status of your mission, if all is going well and there is little resistance, I would strongly suggest the Detention Block…but with the likely occurrence of stiff resistance and high risk objectives, the Communications Control Room would be a shattering wound to the crew inside the ship, from there on…you will proceed with the mission with the objective marked as 'whateverittakes' to survive and inflict as many kills as you can…" Harper sighed deeply and stacked a pile of papers neatly. "Dismissed, Master Chief. Heim, Folly- select your men and then get to the Pelicans."
John pondered the General's order to do whatever it takes to survive, that wasn't in his mission statement, though he would be happy to have a successful mission with a surviving force of Spartans and Marines. But it didn't sit right with him that another high ranking officer would die for the completion of a mission, first Admiral Whitcomb, and now General Harper. John shoved the thought away and shed his dress uniform and began to assemble the MJOLNIR armor around his body. The helmet dropped over his head and face and the HUD slowly came to life, along with his shields. John hefted the Marine battle harness and slipped clicked the belt about his waist, and donned another belt of extra magazines across his chest. He quickly armed fifteen of the M9 HE-DP fragmentation grenades and placed them around the rings of his belt and another harness around his left thigh. John quickly checked his encumbrance, it read normal…for a Spartan anyway. John scanned the armory trays in front of him. Mostly the standard assault rifles and BR-55s, but occasionally came across the increasingly rare M4A1s or the Viper Assault Rifle. John settled on the M4, and slung the carbine over his shoulder, quickly took his fill of the 'banana' style magazines. He buckled a holstered M6D at his left pectoral, making use of the adhesive he had acquired from a crate near the entrance of the armory. Satisfied that this would be enough to hold the Covenant Elites and Brutes for a sufficient amount of time, he strode out of the armory, as if he wasn't carrying kilos and kilos of gear. The other Spartans in the bay wear prepared likewise, a dozen grenades, Delta Force weaponry, excess gear for extra ammunition and demolitions, they weren't messing around here and by the look of the squad, they definitely not worried about making a lot of noise. John's expression was grim, but was quickly covered when the even more intimidating MJOLNIR helmet dropped over his head. Cortana's cool presence surged through his mind. Kelly, Troy, Ryan, Fred, Will and Linda…the only surviving Spartans from his original squad, were finally entering their final hour. Linda was the only one who had not been carrying grenades, two claymores and a M6D pistol, to add with her weapon of choice, the S2AM sniper's rifle. John inhaled deeply, keyed the SQUADCOM and barked, "Dropship Spartans! ASAP!"
Boarding the Spartacus
Countdown timer to first objective:
00:43:18
"Move it, Marines! Go, go, go!" Platoon Sergeant Moody bellowed as he packed his squad into Pelican 403. Under Captain Folly's command was a full platoon of Marines, each squad led by one of the platoon Sergeants, including: Moody, Jones, Mack, Blackwell and Pearson. "Clancy, MOVE, we'll get ammo on the ship! Hawkins, get Dominic and Mackenzie over here now, and find me a support gunner." Moody stated as he pulled Hawkins aside. "Yes Sir, Sergeant!" Lance Corporal Hawkins replied and he shoved the two PFCs onto the ship and climbed aboard himself. "Kloves! Grab the SAW!" Hawkins cried over the roar of the engines. Kloves gave a thumbs up and hefted the support gun. Caser and Kloves climbed into the craft next. Finally Riley climbed aboard, cradling a crate of C4 and grenades. "Everybody grab grenades, Hawkins, dog the C4, PILOT! HIT IT!" Moody called into the cockpit. Five of the UNSC dropships elevated and soared out to the Spartacus where Captain Folly and the ODSTs would be waiting for them. Both the Marines and the ODSTs awaited their fate unflinchingly. Moody locked his magazine of 12.7mm rounds into his MA5B. The Marines assembled their gear and pull it on about themselves, arming grenades, checking safeties and testing the video recordings in their helmets.
The Spartacus grew in front of the five dropships as they accelerated into the launch bays. Most of the Pelicans only stopped to stalk up with ammunition; Foley stepped aboard 403, two black bars signifying captain gleaming on his chest in the center of his breast plate. He wasn't as old as the rest of the higher ranking officers, but his tactics and coolness in battle was not to be questioned, his losses were minimal and he was successful in most of the missions he accepted. The captain slapped a fresh magazine into his MA2B and slung it over his shoulder, he also holster one of the new M6C magnums into the holster placed on the left side of his chest. Foley placed his helmet over his head and swirled his finger in the air and called, "Let's make this thing happen Marines!" Now, the hardest part of the mission had to take place, the only way to get the large number of dropships close enough to the God's Wrath without being completely decimated, was to exit the ship just as it was making the transition to slip space, the ODSTs as well would be entering by means of three captured Phantom dropships, landing in the port launch bay while the Marines landed in the starboard. The way the Spartans were boarding was unknown, they were being inserted into the Covenant CP now, and from there they had to find a way to get into the ship, being that its gravity beam had been extinguished yesterday. Moody closed his eyes and gripped his rifle tightly, fixing his Sergeant's cap over his head. The countdown timer read 00:17:13, almost…their final hour as well, at least the comfort of going down fighting along side the best of best filled his mind, encouraging him to hurt the enemy so badly that they lost all taste for battle.
The seven Spartans hit the ramp at the same time, going to the ground in a half circle around the dropship, firing erratically. An Elite leaned out of his guard post and fired a volley of plasma form his aloft position. Linda spun, fired two quick rounds and barely even watched the corpse fall from the tower. More of the violet clad Elites poured into the perimeter, strange that this color designation had not been previously deployed; they were exceptional even among the Elites. John fired three well placed shots towards an artillery team of Grunts who had begun to retreat from their post. Two rounds tore through the nearest Grunts chest armor, spurting neon blue blood across the Forerunner metal on which it had stood, and the third bullet cracked through the second Grunt's scarcely armored head. Will and Ryan proceeded up onto one of the signal outposts, followed closely by Fred and Linda. That left Troy and Kelly to defend the LZ. An Elite charged, ice blue blade lighted high. Troy turned in unison with John and opened fire. The personal shield of the alien shimmered and let out a static pop and died away, through the high velocity rounds continued to shred through the armor, the Sangheili advanced, finally reaching Troy. The warrior raised the blade and sunk it straight through Troy's chest plate, with hissed with the release of energy and the hydraulic gels. Troy's helmeted head dropped several inches looked up at the Elite with cold fury, but the white hot pain in his chest forced him to the ground to die slowly after so many years of combat against the Covenant, only to die by a soldier dangled at the edge of death. John held his M4 at his hip, keyed the M203 grenade launcher attachment and fired. A look that must have passed for shock embraced the Elite's face as the RPG punched through his stomach and blew him backward in several pieces. John looked down mournfully at the fallen Spartan, it was too early in the mission for one of them to die, no it wasn't all of them would be dead soon, sometime during this mission, when or where mattered not, only if at least one of them reached the ship to complete the objective. John ordered Kelly back up to the signal outpost. A blue acknowledgment light winked on and her signal disappeared up the ramp, though came back into focus when 117 chased closely after her.
They were falling behind schedule, for seven minutes continuous fighting had erupted along the elevated structure. Each Spartan had positioned him or herself along the edge of the four foot high walls that encircled the outpost. "Master Chief, permission to take red team to the platforms and capture that dropship." Fred said over the com. "Granted, go!" John replied, "Kelly, Linda, you guys go with Fred, I'll take the rear." John ordered. A series of blue acknowledgment lights winked on and the line of Spartans fought their way across the plain to the platform, which was guarded by a platoon of Grunts. Ryan and Will knelt, and open fired. The diminutive aliens scurried every which way, pausing to fire a short, ill-placed shot towards the humans. But soon the tidal wave of armor piercing rounds penetrated the thin armor and left a heap of bleeding bodies. The Spartans piled aboard, Will at the cockpit. "Clear?" Will asked. "Yeah your good go!" John bellowed as he repelled a concerted attack by a pair of Elites, which met a barrage of bullets with ravaged their armor and scrambled their insides. Each of them clenched their leaking entrails and fell to the ground. John watched as the dropship rose from the ground and sped into the atmosphere in a violet-red blur. John had no intentions of scrubbing this mission or abandoning his team mates. His rifle chattered, as yet more of the Covenant minor troops fell under the weight of to Spartan's defense.
00:03:57 flashed across John's countdown timer. He had blown the door and trapped beneath the signal outpost. The ice blue beam of energy flared out of the unseen emitter some thousands of meters below. "Cortana, I need an assessment of this beam now." John said aiming towards the doorways.
"You could say please you know?" Cortana replied, irritation slightly climbing into her voice. "It is a semi-stable gravity beam that fires a blast to the opposite side of Halo carrying a detailed transmission of climate read-outs, environment scans—"
"That's all I need to know." John said cutting her off from her lecture about her never ending intellect. The Spartan jumped into the beam path just before it fired. The strange sensation he had felt when he entered the docking beam at High Charity to board the Ark filled his stomach again, and he began to slow, now inside of the vacuum of space. "The God's Wrath, there it is!" Cortana cried as John skidded across the slippery alien hull. Hs armored fingers groped for a handhold as he continued to slip, and when he did fall, he wouldn't live to try again. The launch bay drew into sight, though the energy blast door was lowered. But it was his best chance. John turned and propelled himself down to the bay, where the bubbly ice blue energy dominated his view. He threw his hand into the shimmering liquid-like energy, and to his surprise, he traveled straight through it, finding himself lying safely inside the ship on the opposite side of the door. Two Phantoms occupied the bay, along with a crashed Pelican lying half way onto its side. This was the port bay, being that the ODSTs had already moved through and secured this bay, and should be making their way to the Bridge. John's weapon was gone, along with most of his ammunition, though his pistol had remained in place. He discarded the last of the M4A1 magazines and entered the Pelican. John wondered into the cockpit where he located the pilot's weapon's locker, contained two M6C pistols, a DOA-12 auto shotgun and a MA5B. John retrieved the shotgun, attached the anchoring clips on his back to the weapon and hefted the 5B, and broke open the footlocker to scrounge for ammo, ten magazines, six hundred rounds. John pulled back the charging level and set off to his team's RV point.
"Will, the bay! It isn't that far away—Will! Pull up!" Kelly cried as the U-shaped dropship skidded into the refit fighter bay of the God's Wrath. The dropship nosed into the wall, crushing a team of engineers, along with two Jackals. Several Grunts fell to their death when the catwalks fractured by the invading dropship. More Engineers swarmed over the craft, trying desperately to repair the ship before it detonated. Will opened the hatches and wouldn't met a cluster of frustrated looks form his team but the mirrored visors masked their emotions. Will lifted his rifle along with the rest of the Spartans prepared as the hatch opened, only to be met by a welcome party of Elites, who had the wisdom to stay behind cover before charging headlong into a Spartan line. Black smoke and fires provided excellent cover for the Spartans as a volley of fragmentation grenades sailed out of nowhere to meet the Elites. Shrapnel in pillars of flame erupted from the explosives, showering the upper class warriors with a deadly fate. Another one of the violet clad Sangheili stood, and threw its arm forward as signal to attack. Fred's team opened fire, in which the armor piercing rounds, laden the aliens with tennis ball-sized gaps through their bright colored armor. Fred stood surveying the scene. They had been here minutes and the devastation was immense, it looked as though the entire bay was going to crumple up and float away. Fortunate to the super soldiers, it did not.
John's rifle chattered as the high velocity shredder rounds sped down the massive corridors. Unlike the tightly cramped Covenant corridors of the standard warships, the God's Wrath's corridors were immense, filled with various elevated catwalks, that played against the Master Chief as the diminutive Covenant Grunts continued to fire down on him from a above, jeering and taunting in a series of guttural barks. The Spartan sprayed the catwalks with fire, and taking the distraction to slip into another hatch…though having escaped from the Grunts, meant facing six fully armed Elites, weapons lowered, mandibles clicked, and after a series of war cries, they charged. John couldn't contain the smile under his visor so he didn't bother. 117 stepped out the door, rifle slung, two grenades clutched in each armored fist, the door began to cycle shut, when the grenades hit the ground on the other side. A satisfying whomp resonated through the other side of the blast door. The Grunts were standing menacingly behind him, apparently thinking he'd forgotten about, whispering among them selves, preparing for the kill, when a fragmentation grenade rolled onto the catwalk and cut each one of them to ribbons. Ryan stood over them, rifle aiming frantically around the room searching for hostilities. When finding none, he preformed the smile gesture and waved him forward.
"MEDIC!" a marine wailed from across the plaza within the ship. "Scotty! We need a medic here now!" Moody bellowed. Scotty stood and looked to the Sergeant's position, the marine fired two bursts and hurled a grenade dived head first into the debris that sheltered the wounded soldier. "He looks pretty bad Sarge, I don't know about this one," Scotty muttered under his breath to Moody, afraid the marine would panic if he knew his true fate. The marine's legs were gone, and all the bones in his right arm were shattered. The marine whimpered something incomprehensible and continued to mumble under his breath. Scotty reached for the morphine injectors at his belt, but before he could manage, a towering eight foot tall Elite hurtled over the trench and crushed the wounded soldier's skull with its massive boot. Scotty flew backwards involuntarily, avoiding the second stomp. The medic continued to scramble backwards until he felt something nudge him. Turning around expecting Moody, came to the horrible realization that there were no more marines here, or at least in his debris consisting trench. Their rifles leveled, Scotty held his breath and removed his last grenade. He could try to run, but he had seen these warriors slaughter marines before they could even fire a shot. It was worth a try. Scotty dropped the grenade and leapt for safety. The aliens turned and immediately hosed the debris around him with plasma. He heard the rifles whine until they began to overheat, he couldn't believe he made it, then the grenade went off, two heavy objects, the Elites he supposed, crashed down beside him while the pile of debris shifted and buried him. him with plasma fire. Scotty groped at his life as it slipped away, then all went black with a tremendous explosion.
"Scotty? Scotty, are you alright?" asked a marine Corporal standing over him. Scotty's eyes opened slowly and blinked cautiously at the man above him. "I can hear bells ringing," Scotty replied and sat up. "C'mon dude, the rest of the platoon went ahead somewhere, I lost my squad a few meter that way," he said jerking his thumb back behind him. "Right, I lost my rifle," Scotty muttered as the Marine retrieved a pistol from the deck and handed it him.
"Captain Heim, Sir, area is secure, we own the Bridge." Sergeant Stacker replied, slapping a fresh clip into the receiver of his rifle. "Good work Sergeant how's the Marine's progress?" Heim replied. "They have multiple MIA, several causalities, but Captain Foley and his squad are at engineering now, Sir." Heim tapped his lip with his finger, carefully watching his men amble across the deck, patrolling the area. As everything else on the ship, the Bridge was gigantic, it had taken the majority of his men to secure it, and to recon every hatch. Now all they needed was the Spartans to arrive.
The door impeding the squad of super soldier's progress flew open with a bone shattering explosion. "Will take point I got rear," Fred said as he backpedaled several steps and threw several disapproving glances at the violet bulkheads and the dull blue lights that flooded the hallway. Fred sighted several bodies of Marines, slouched against the walls of the corridor, and in the corners, a strange sense of foreboding crept over him. Blood streaked the floors from previously dragged bodies; his NAV marker showered seventy meters to the target, almost there. The blue lights flickered on and off; Fred continued to keep his rifle up, searching every corner, every nook. The Bodies began to thicken, and Fred couldn't take it any more. "Form up," he rasped. "Everybody form up, get tight," Fred looked down at the body at his feet and read the name scrawled onto the helmet, FOLEY. So much for engineering being secure. He thought to himself, his eyes darting to every shadow. Fred had contact with every kind of stealth spec ops soldier the Covenant had deployed, though even an entire squad of stealth Elites would have had a hard time decimating half of a Marine platoon.
"How is that possible, Excellency, the Parasite was under surveillance from the second that we harvested them from the Ring, it could not have broken free." A hushed deep voice emitted from the adjacent door. "It may be true, but the corridors are littered with human corpses, and all those who you had watching the specimen have been found dead, and not by means of the human's weapons." The second deep voice replied, anger feverishly running through his voice. "How could this be, there was only one of the infections, the others were dealt with! How could it possibly been the Flood? Perhaps a team of commandos, deployed from the Ship Master?" The first spoke more loudly this time. "If you have not taken notice 'Irkramee, the Ship Master is on the surface of the Ring at the present time, and do to recent reports, he has been found, killed by the demon himself! I had assumed tactical deployment seventy units ago! And no teams were deployed there accept a troop of Unggoy, who were found dead with similar wounds to the Security Squad detached to the Containment Centre, you have released the Parasite upon our ship, 'Irkramee! Now the infidels have provided them with food, even more food than the already sustaining feast that consist of our own kind aboard this vessel, the Flood has been unleashed, and with the Control Centre overthrown, along with the engineering centre, there is no hope for us." The second voice sneered. "We must journey to Communications, before the humans obtain another prize, and also avoid the Parasite, so that our brothers can fire on our Ship to cleanse it of its unrighteousness, so that then we can crush the last of the human race and focus the Covenant to victory, but you, Irkramee, no, you shall stay with your ship, and bear to burden of your heresy with the price of giving your life."
Fred had heard enough, even by only confronting the Flood once before, he knew that he never wanted to fight them again. The door slid open and a bronze clad Elite that he assumed was Irkramee strode outside. Before Fred could kill the alien warrior, its chest exploded, along with most of his face. John 117 was standing behind him, shotgun leveled. "Master Chief, we have a problem, Sir." Fred began. "The Flood, Chief, the Covenant released them, inside the ship, I believe we should scrub the mission and proceed groundside for the defense of Alpha Base," John was deep in thought, considering all of the outcomes, Fred was right, the ship had to be destroyed, but the failure of the mission threw everything into disarray, Harper would not be able to hold against the Covenant's final wave. Ryan jogged into the hallway behind him. "What's the story Chief?" Will asked, rifled still searching for possible targets. "Back to the Bridge, we need to get to Captain Heim and the rest of the Marines," John muttered, "Cortana, send the RV signal to the last of the Marines and plant the NAV marker at the Bridge, and also make sure the Pelicans are still in working order." John said helping Linda set claymores at each hatch.
"You could say please, you know?" Cortana replied after two heartbeats. John ignored her. "Done. Platoon Sergeant Moody has gotten as many men as he could to band together and move for the Bridge."
"Good, we're on our way now, I'm putting you into the system, warm up every turret we have and open fire on everything he can reach." John said, running down another corridor, his Spartans behind him.
"I'm on it, Chief."
"One more thing Cortana, get me the statistics of the Cairo, and then send them directly to my HUD."
"Right away Chief, I'm done, sending now." Cortana said.
The dead MAC station wasn't in great shape, but contained some atmosphere, though it was swarming with Covenant single troops. John highlighted the atmosphere-9bearing chambers with the launch bays and marked it for later on in the mission, if there was later on. The door of the bridge slid open with a shriek, and the Spartans were met by a squad of heavily armed Helljumpers, the lead was tagged and Staff Sergeant Sam Reinhart. "Reinhart, we need to see Captain Heim."
The Sergeant shifted uneasily and stepped aside, after a cautious look down the corridor he hit the door control. John surveyed the room, it was gigantic, the lights had cast a dull blue hue on everything, contrasting with the violet bulkhead and the pink deck plates. There were however several Marine regulars in the room, ones who John recognized from previous engagements, and from his own platoon on the Ring. Master Sergeant Jeremy Pearson and his team, the five Marine pilots had survived and made it to the Bridge, which John was thankful for, they would need the pilots for the extraction…if there was an extraction. The pilots' mirrored visors were still set in place over their eyes, while each of them cradled an assault rifle and grenades, it was fortunate that the pilots were accustomed to combat. John spotted Heim, standing near the central view screen, his rifle still resting at his waist, though his finger twitched near the trigger.
The young officer strode down from the elevated platform and beckoned to the Spartans. "Master Chief, it's good to see you alive." Heim began. "Moody is moving here now, he should be here soon, luckily, there's been no contact with the Flood, only a few Covenant patrols, nevertheless, Cortana has two confirmed kills but my men are moving in squads to reach the launch bays, making sure that the Marine sentries there haven't been overrun."
"Captain, do your men still have the NOVA we dragged up here?" John asked.
"Yes they do, Chief—"
"Good, we're going to arm it here, after your men have evacuated and are safe aboard the Cairo."
"Chief, the Cairo didn't make it Chief, it and its crew are dead, and even if it wasn't the blast would destroy it." Heim answered.
"Captain, we are, after all, in the black, so the detonation radius would envelope the ships around us, but only kill the systems in the rest that were operational, leaving them dead in space, I believe the titanium armor on the station would be able to shelter its remaining systems, I've already sent the coordinates to your pilots, there an operational launch bay, with a Prowler still intact on the underbelly of the station, you and your men would be able to return to Earth before the second NOVA goes off on the surface." John stated, taking a step forward to help a marine out of one of the trench like stations below them.
"……Okay Chief, but we need you guys with us, we aren't leaving without you and your team, you've saved to many of my men," Heim responded, spinning around rifle up, to the door that had just slid open with a metallic creak. Sergeant Moody and Sergeant Ryan stepped inside, carrying a limp marine between them, along with the rest of the squad behind them, thirteen of the original thirty men.
"I've done all I can Chief, we need to leave, now!" Cortana's voice came over the loud speakers.
"You heard the lady, Brock, Jimmy, you guys get the nuke set, and everyone else, form fire teams, seven man minimum, and move for the launch bays! Go, go, go!" Heim bellowed, sending various orders to the ODSTs and marines scuttling about the Bridge.
John absorbed Cortana and turned to observe the helljumpers place a large crate in the centre of the raised platform. "Timer set for seventeen minutes, Marines!" John barked. The Marines gave him a thumbs up as they armed the bomb, and scurried away from it as though it was going to explode any second. John cast a glance over the faces of the Marines and past the reflective helmet guards of the shock troopers.
Four teams held their breath and broke out of the door at a run down the corridor, two pilots along with them. Tens seconds past, three more squads. Forty seconds, one more squad. One hundred forty five seconds, the first group had just reached the launch bays; second-to-last team departs for the bay. Only John, Will, Fred, Ryan, Kelly, Linda, Heim, Moody and eight Marines remained. Another three minutes ticked off John's mission clock. The Marines and Moody departed. John checked the timer, not much longer. "Captain, its time to leave, Sir."
The dropships appeared ahead, Moody's men piled in, along with the Helljumpers beside them; the dropships weren't pulling full capacity, due to the Marines massive causalities. Moody threw another glance over his shoulder towards the bulkhead. Slowly the door hissed open. The Spartans appeared. Moody was about to welcome them aboard when a lance of plasma sliced into the wall of the bay. Atmosphere disintegrated, the bay doors opened involuntarily, and sucked out an entire Pelican load of Helljumpers. The craft would have had a chance if the cockpit hadn't collided with the bulkhead and decompressed. Moody pulled himself aboard and had time to time to pull a few Marines aboard, before the atmospheric doors creaked shut and the craft elevated, speeding out of the alien bay, leaving the rest of the men below to fend for themselves…
|
