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The Phokian Wall Part V: Guardians
Posted By: Argonaut<PaladinHero@aol.com>
Date: 11 March 2005, 11:24 AM
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The Phokian Wall Part V: Guardians
Ten meters. That was how far the beleaguered force of twenty Marines had advanced their wall of combat barriers along the overlook of Deck Thirty-Five. It was a perilous push fraught with hazards as fresh waves of Covenant boarders continued to pour through the breaches on Deck Thirty-Four. By now they had assembled a makeshift breastwork of exotic purple crates and strangely shaped oblong objects resembling logs, one which sustained whatever few grenades were hurled down upon them. From this relatively protected position the Covenant continued to pour fire up onto the upper level where the defenders of the BCS Aspis had marshaled to repel them. Outnumbered and running low on ammunition, what was left of the Marine fire teams did their best to cut off their adversary's advance with a Phokian Wall defense. This, supplemented by sealing off the maintenance stairwell doors and disabling access to the elevators, had given them a concentrated field of fire to maintain; one that they could focus on without having to worry about a flanking maneuver. But where a sliver of hope had manifested in their cutting off of the enemy it was quickly dashed as blood upon the rocks by a new and equally terror-inducing sight. They had drawn up only a handful of meters away from the edge in time to see Covenant boarding ramps reach up and grip the end of Deck Thirty-Five's floor.
Lieutenant Chiron watched in horror as the telescoping two meter-wide platform extended with hungry mechanical claws at its tips towards the lip of their level. When it touched the ends of the floor the clamps sunk with a demonic biomechanical fury into the titanium flooring, securing the diagonal ramp for use by the Covenant invaders. The lieutenant dropped behind the protection of his combat barrier, bawling up with enough gumption to prepare for what was coming.
"Everyone down!" he yelled across the line of battered defenders. "Get the fuck down and stay there!" He cupped his hands over his face and buried his head in the base of the combat barrier. He felt Sergeant Alexander and Corporal Telamon follow suit on either side of him as they crouched behind the bunker, one of them yelling "Bum rush!" before dropping down to relative safety. Seconds later a resounding chain of explosions rocked the area directly ahead of the Marines, the bleaching aura of plasma grenade ionization flooding into the relatively quiet aftermath. When Chiron was convinced the clearing barrage was finished he popped his head over the upper rim of the barrier, pistol gripped tightly in one hand and his combat knife in the other. He threw a sidelong look examining those Marines who had survived the bombardment. To his amazement only two of them had incurred any wounds, the rest were readying their knives or getting their rifles ready for a nice bash. Chiron looked over to see Corporal Telamon slinging his M90 shotgun around and pumping the first shell into the chamber.
Here they come, he thought grimly before switching on his CNI transponder to a broadband frequency.
Sure enough, through the smoldering white fog of the ion residue came the low lurching orange and blue glows of Jackal shields, followed closely by the scurrilous waddling of plasma pistol-wielding Grunts and then the authoritative stride of a dozen masterful red Elites. They advanced over the two ramps so fast and with such a manic tenacity that Chiron was, for a moment, unsure they even saw that the Marines were still alive. Hopefully the ruse would continue until they were right up on them. It would have to be close; surprise was all that might save them now.
"Wait until you can slap 'em, boys," he ordered quietly over his com unit. A few muted thumbs up from the battle line confirmed his message. He switched off the transponder and leaned over towards Sergeant Alexander who crouched huddled not two hands to his right. "Toss a couple frags down those damn ramps when we pop up Mike," he ordered softly. "Chances are they have a second wave in tow." Sergeant Alexander nodded silently.
Just a few more seconds, he thought. Already he could hear the clattering of their alien hoofed feet on the titanium floor and the sounds of their strangely tenored tongues barking and chattering at one another as they drew nearer. Almost...almost...
"Now!"
Like a line of raised spear points jutting into the war-fogged air the Marines rose along the battle line of their bunkers and greeted the Covenant advance with a wave of close order small arms fire. Their blood and multicolored ooze of the Covenant sprayed and showered all over the Marines as their weapons discharged at proximity along the line of combat barriers. The Jackals nearly fell over backwards as the thunderous barrage of bullets crashed into their meter-tall energy shields. Several were caught in a close cross fire resulting in the indiscriminate discharging of their plasma pistols. Those Marines who did not fire their weapons leapt over their bunkers and went to work with their empty rifles and combat knives. In waves the bullet-spent Marines went over the Phokian Wall and began to deal death out to the overzealous and clumsy Covenant at close quarters.
Lieutenant Chiron emptied the last magazine of his Magnum pistol in no time, dropping three Grunts and three orange-shielded Jackals in the ensuing melee. Beside him the sonic blasting of Corporal Telamon's shotgun could be felt as much as heard in his attempt to end the threat of any nearby Elites. He held his fire long enough for an Elite to leap over the bunker before blasting it with a shell and then bashing the thing in the head, sending it sprawling over the bunker in a gruesome show of gore. As the last of the Marines fired off their rounds they leapt into the fray and began bludgeoning the foe. Chiron refused to hesitate and set to work on his enemy. He was on the rightmost side of the battle line, in the place of honor among officers and their subordinates, and decided to move in a flanking action towards the center under cover of Sergeant Alexander's grenades. The frags were thrown wide and long, one toppling off the leftmost ramp and exploding with relative harmlessness below deck, the other landing right where it should: at the feet of an approaching blue-armored Elite. In an instant Lieutenant Chiron saw the luckless Elite go sprawling into the air, bluish purple ooze spraying from the charred stump that was, only moments ago, its right knee. A hideous cry erupted from its alien lungs as its hurdled down to the deck below. But Chiron had no time to revel in the success of his subordinate. He had to keep moving. With a deft agility he leapt for a small red Grunt, tackling the thing before it could draw a plasma pistol on one of his Marines. In moments he had the thing pinned down on the ground and was sinking his combat knife deep into the left side of its torso even as it clawed the flesh off his exposed left thigh. It took some work but he managed to wriggle the blade in between the creases of its armor, all the while the dwarf-life thing squealing with agony as the sharpened steel blade sunk deeply into its innards. Lieutenant Chiron retracted the blade in an infuriating spray of blood and plunged it again into his helpless opponent, this time hitting its neck just below the strangely armored jaw. When the job was done he had risen to a bloody hobble and was moving on to the next opponent; a pair of Elites standing over a bleeding and helpless Marine. The pain and gushing of blood at his leg never even registered.
Not far away, in the midst of the melee, Sergeant Ptolemy had charged headlong into the center of the battle line. Private Nyx was not far behind, finishing off his last rounds before slinging his rifle to free up his hands for a combat knife and a pistol. But Ptolemy was quickly moving ahead of him. With a fell swoop he landed the butt of his BR55 into the unprotected skull of a Grunt, caving its head in and sending what he could only assume were its miniscule brains across the sullied floor. He followed up with a boot to its chest, sending the hideous gnome flailed backwards before landing in the middle of its comrades, the troupe sprawling out on the floor and screeching with mania. Ptolemy was quick on their heels with his battle rifle in hand. He swung the thing like a baseball bat across the left cheek of a Grunt's face as it tried to regain its footing. Half a heartbeat later and the crazed Marine had wheeled around to face the other three, a look of raving bloodlust in his eyes.
"Come on you scum-fuckers!" he barked as he buried the smoking hot tip of his battle rifle into the right eye of a yellow-armored Grunt. "Get up! Get up you freaks!" He wasted no time in finishing off the last one, who had made an attempt at flight but gotten no further than three feet before Sergeant Ptolemy had him face down, his boot on his back and the butt of his rifle snapping the thing's neck. The sound of kindling that erupted from this gruesome death made Private Nyx's stomach churn. He winced even as he sank his combat knife into the elongated and exposed throat of a Jackal, but the monster got its shot in, burying the red-hot tip of its plasma pistol into Nyx's throat. But it only fazed him for a moment. He turned to his right to see two more Jackals lay before him prone and helpless. In no time he was on them, exacting his vengeance. He got to the second one when all of a sudden Ptolemy was there, snapping its neck with a kick of his boot and digging the muzzle of his rifle into its chest cavity. "That'll give him something to bitch about," the sergeant announced with a radiant smile.
Private Nyx wheeled on his superior. "You can't just let me have one fucking kill can you? You glory-whoring sonofabitch!" The sergeant only looked at him and grinned before moving on to the next easy target.
They didn't get a third the length of the battle line before being intercepted by a pair of crazed Elites. The two towering monsters were roaring maniacally and swatting away with their plasma rifles. One Marine was unfortunate enough to get caught between them. His life ended in a shower of blood and limbs as the two Elites ripped his arms off and blasting his face to a charred black mass resembling a piece of coal. Private Nyx skidded to a halt as he witnessed this, not wishing to suffer such a gruesome demise. But Sergeant Ptolemy would have nothing of it, casting away his trusted battle rifle and removing his combat knife.
"Come on, you chambermaid!" he called to Nyx as he closed the distance between he and his prey. "Get over here and carve these bastards up!"
One of the Elites heard him and turned, his four-mandibled face opening wide to issue forth a baleful roar. The thing drew up, right there in the middle of the chaos, and beckoned Sergeant Ptolemy forward with an arrogant wave of its hand. Wasting no time the tall Marine closed in on the proud Elite.
It was then that Private Nyx witnessed what he could only describe as a miracle. He didn't know how it happened, or why, but it did. It was the kind of act that bore a furious eye rub and a pinch just to verify that he was not dreaming. He watched as the Elite leapt for Ptolemy...and promptly dropped like a sack. If he had had time he might have slapped himself, though there was still some thirty-odd Covenant willing to do that for him. Wasting no time, for Private Nyx or his second opponent, Sergeant Ptolemy crossed the meter or so of distance and closed in on the other Elite. Private Nyx watched again as his superior seemed to merely reach out and touch the thing with his knife, the infamous energy shield illuminating for but a moment before deactivating as the Elite dropped dead. When at last the second corpse hit the floor Sergeant Ptolemy stood over them both and laughed with a flash of hysteria. Private Nyx fought his way through two Grunts before reaching him.
"How-in-the-Hell?" he asked with a profound delirium.
Sergeant Ptolemy turned to him. " 'The slow blade penetrates the shield'," he replied with a toothy grin.
"What?"
"I saw it in a movie once," the other stated casually with a shrug. "I thought it might be a good idea."
"It's a goddamned miracle," announced a wheezy voice from behind Sergeant Ptolemy. The lanky victor turned to see Lieutenant Chiron rising to his feet, casting off the limbs of the Elite. "That thing was about to send me across the river," he declared. "Son, I swear on all the gods in Hell, if we somehow get out of this I'm gonna fill your chest up with so many ribbons and medals you'll need a damned back brace to walk!"
"I can live with that," Ptolemy answered. Private Nyx supposed it was his way of saying thank you.
But no sooner had that thought occurred to him than the three were diving for cover. Chiron had spotted an incoming plasma cannon charge and had yanked the two Marines by their breastplates to the floor. The green globule arched only a few feet over their heads before landing in the center of the Phokian Wall, demolishing the two bunkers it hit and sending a cluster of Marines flailing into the flanks, bits of flesh and sizzling limbs showering down. Private Nyx turned from his prostrate pose to see an awkward looking pair of Grunts burdened by an oversized and cumbersome machination surmount the rightmost Covenant ramp. The two wore a strange black and silver armor and in their dwarfish hands lumbered the glowing matrix of a plasma cannon. Nyx felt the vomit rise in his throat as one of the monsters eyed him and the others.
"Move!" shouted Lieutenant Chiron, hauling the two troopers to their feet before running pell-mell for the safety of a far distant combat barrier. The others were right behind him.
Another earth-shattering blast quaked the ground beneath Private Nyx's feet as he and Ptolemy narrowly escaped a second volley of plasma cannon fire. The green acidic heat of its explosion seared the backplate of Nyx's armor. It wasn't long before a third, and then a fourth blast landed nearby, each one drawing closer and closer. The fourth actually knocked Sergeant Ptolemy on his ass, Private Nyx rising long enough to haul the man up and drag him to safety. They wheeled around the nearest bunker just as two simultaneous blasts careened overhead, landing near a pocket of three Marines who were busy pilfering the dead for munitions. This was not to say that some Covenant did not suffer in the ensuing barrage. Four of their fellow Grunts were caught in the mix, along with just as many Jackals. Only the deft reactions of the Elites managed to keep them out of harm's way.
Lieutenant Chiron leapt over the top of the combat barrier ready to make his mad dash for the next bit of cover. "Stay on my ass!" he shouted to Nyx and Ptolemy. He crossed the first few meters of open ground before catching out of the corner of his eye the quick jerk and tumble of the two plasma cannon-wielding Grunts. A second later and their cannons discharged, taking a score of their fellow Covenant with them. Suddenly his transponder beeped in his ear. With a shaking hand he reached and activated the channel.
"You're welcome," came a familiar gravelly voice. It was Dark Arrow Loki.
Lieutenant Chiron smiled. "You really are my ace in the hole, Loki," Chiron declared.
"Not for long," he answered. "I've only got ten rounds left. We need to do something here."
"What does Dienekes have to say?" He could hear the sniper huff on the other end.
"The AI's not much good, sir," Loki intimated.
A beep from his transponder interrupted the flow of sound. Lieutenant Chiron looked down to see Captain Dytharimbos hailing him. "Loki, it's the captain," he said.
"Pray he's got some good news." With that he ended the transmission.
"This is Grey Wolf, go ahead captain."
"Grey Wolf, Captain Dytharimbos here, We've got reinforcements moving into position for dockside pickup; E-T-A four minutes. Six Pelicans from the SCS Lakedaemon. Recommend you abandon position and defilade to starboard docks. It's getting really ugly out here and they won't be able to wait around."
"Roger that, captain," Chiron said excitedly. "These guardians of mine and I are already on it." The transponder closed and he turned to dial a broadband frequency. "Attention all fire teams, Pelicans are moving in for dockside pickup, E-T-A four minutes. Abandon Phokian Wall and defilade by groups of five to the lift. Fire Team Zulu goes first."
In no time at all the remaining two members of Fire Team Zulu had retreated to the rear of the battle line, freeing themselves of the hellish close quarters combat that had enveloped all of the Marines. Lieutenant Chiron quickly located Corporal Telamon and ordered him to set satchel charges and whatever explosives he had left on the flanking pillars to help funnel the Covenant into a small field of fire. The Marines no longer had any of their own ballistics weapons but instead were using the awkward and loathsome Covenant weapons to keep their enemies at bay. Even Alexander had given up his assault rifle and M6B pistol in favor of a needler. He had also taken it upon himself to cover Corporal Telamon while he placed his traps. The demolitions officer managed to get half way done before the flood of Covenant had overwhelmed their position.
"All Marines fall back!" Chiron shouted over the cacophony of the melee. Instantly the humans began hopping over the Phokian Wall bunkers and making their way back to the lift at the rearmost wall of Deck Thirty-Five.
The Covenant continued to pour in, even as the Marines retreated to a bunkered semicircle of defense consisting of no more than eight Marines. Corporal Telamon was on the left hand side of the deck with Sergeant Alexander when they were overrun. He swung his shotgun around and blew the chest off of an advancing Grunt. Pumping the weapon he repeated with a searing shot at close range to the shields of a murderous Elite. The thing recoiled in a painful stupor giving Sergeant Alexander enough time to empty his needler in its chest. The thing exploded in a pinkish spectacle sending limbs and bits of gooey alien matter everywhere. Yet just as he died two more Elites moved in to take his place, closing the distance between them and the Marines even as Alexander tried to reload his needler.
"Move it!" Telamon shouted at the young Marine as he pumped in what he knew to be his last shell. The Elites closed the distance and showered the two soldiers with plasma fire. Corporal Telamon dove to the right missing the volley of scorching plasma by inches. Alexander wheeled around to huddle behind the cover of the explosives-armed pillar, finishing up his reload. When he spun around he saw the two Elites a mere two feet away from him, bearing down on his person with homicidal rage. Corporal Telamon watched as he pulled the trigger, frantically trying to inject some of the glistening shards into his opponent. The spray of the weapon went wild as the nearest Elite swatted it out of his hand. With his other he reached out and grabbed Sergeant Alexander by the throat, slamming him up against the pillar. Seeing his only chance Telamon reached for the detonator.
"No!" cried the voice of Lieutenant Chiron behind him. "Don't do it!" He turned around in a paltry glance to see Chiron, Sergeant Ptolemy, and Private Nyx were the only ones left guarding the lift. In the distance, even as the furious combat continued to rage around them, Telamon could hear the voice of Alexander invoking every blasphemy and slur his mind could conjure. He watched as the Marine struggled valiantly with the insurmountable Elites. The two were pounding him furiously with their rifles. It was now or never. Telamon turned to his officer and grimaced with a profound look of remorse...and pushed the button.
The pillar exploded in a brilliant spectacle, the two Elites bursting apart in chunks of flaming carrion. Around them a half dozen Grunts and Jackals were flung about. A few more Covenant were caught in the ensuing blasts from the other side creating an envelope of napalm and C-7 death.
Moments later Chiron, Ptolemy, Nyx, and Telamon were in the elevator lift and racing for the ship docks. Not a word was spoken as the four men stood checking their commandeered Covenant weapons or clearing the blood and chum out of the creases in their gear. Only the ambient sound of the lift's motors could be heard humming below them. No one said a word.
After an eternity in silence the lift drew to a halt and the doors opened to reveal the docks. Through view ports along the way the great open expanse of space laid some hundred meters off displaying the furious battle that raged without pause or relent in the starry vacuum. In the distance the shimmering blue and white horizon of the planet Arkadia could be seen glimmering as Covenant and humans battled above her. In the fore of the open, box-like docking bay squatted three Pelicans on circular landing pads, their repulsors billowing smoke as they awaited the survivors. Various members of the surviving crew sprinted to these vessels of safety, most of which seemed to come from the command deck. Nearby deck officers herded the personnel into their respective transports before sending them off into the launching bays that laid beyond the cyclopean blast doors. Lieutenant Chiron was the first to step out of the lift and head for the deck officer relegating the Pelicans. In the distance one of the birds steamed up and lurched off the ground, her bay doors closing before she arced into her exit path. In moments the small transport was through the shielded bay and into space. Chiron made for the next transport with Ptolemy, Nyx, and Telamon behind him. As they drew upon the ship a cluster of crew from the command deck rushed in front of them.
"Lieutenant Chiron," heralded the bass voice of a man to his left. The battered and bloodied lieutenant turned to face him. It was Captain Dytharimbos. The man was short and stocky, a great mesh of curly black hair cut close to his head. His uniform was pristine. He smelled void of the trappings of war. Or perhaps that was because all Chiron could smell was sulfur and shit. "Glad to see you've made it. You and those guardian angels of yours get on board while we still have time. There's still much to do in this war." With a pat on Chiron's shoulder and a grin the captain lurched up into the Pelican. Chiron could only grimace as he followed suit.
"What a jackass," Private Nyx muttered under his breath as he moved to climb into the Pelican. Beside him Sergeant Ptolemy and Corporal Telamon grunted their compliances.
When all four had crammed themselves into the sardine can that was the Pelican the thing closed its hatch and made to rise.
"Buckle up, boys," warned a broguish voice over their earpieces.
Private Nyx sat down next to Sergeant Ptolemy and strapped himself in. A general mill of wearied discussion was emanating from the eleven passengers inside the Pelican. Only Telamon and Chiron refused to speak, or even in each other's direction. Private Nyx looked towards the front of the bay where the cockpit resided. There he saw someone he had no recollection of being in the Pelican.
Standing casually with a hand reaching up for an overhead rail, slung the short fit form of Loki, shrouded in his black VacSuit with his small sniper rifle slung across his back. He stood peering out the Pelican's cockpit window. He tapped Lieutenant Chiron on the shoulder and pointed at the Dark Arrow.
"Looks like I owe you a couple beers, Loki," the lieutenant said with a gratified grin.
[indent[The Dark Arrow turned to him and shrugged. "It's just a job." His head swiveled back around to face the view port.
In the lurching and heaving of the Pelican's flight through the battle Private Nyx managed to stand up and approach the assassin, taking two hands to secure his space-legs to the shifting floor of the Pelican's interior. He watched as scores of other Pelicans and small pursuit class UNSC ships made for the low horizon of the planet. "What the Hell is that?" he asked, pointing to a particularly stalwart-looking UNSC vessel. Its pitch was noticeably lower than usual, and the only fire on its hull was that of its own weapons discharging.
"That's the Lakedaemon," Loki stated proudly.
"Well, what in God's name is it doing?"
Loki turned to him, all smiles. "Looks like they're taking this fight to the ground."
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