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Clean Sweep 2
Posted By: aussie_spartan<aussie_spartan@hotmail.com>
Date: 1 June 2008, 8:22 am
Read/Post Comments
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Once again, if you see any problems (either factual or grammatical ) feel free to contact me. I know I'm not a perfect writer and I enjoy every opportunity to better my writing. Case in point the fact that I'm not very good at expressing how a soldier would actually talk in a battlefield (I tried to do better but I'm not sure if I did any good). Also, (SPOILER ALERT!) I'm not sure if pilots actually power down while flying so if they don't just pretend you can see. Although it's the future so... maybe... maybe...
-------------------------
>To open file press enter. To delete press delete.
>ENTER
>>... file opened. Scanning retina...
>>Comparing to registered database, please wait. Search complete, welcome Major.
>>NOTE: ALL information in this document is to be considered RESTRICTED to level Alpha, failure to comply will result in immediate court marshal.
>>NOTE: Additional restrictions apply to Alpha documents. Under Section 109, Article VI, any failure to upkeep these restrictions will result in immediate execution. TREASON WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.
File start:
Operation: CLEAN SWEEP
Access Level: Alpha
Access code: N/A (Eyes only)
Receiver: Call sign 'Liquid' (TSgt Michael Mance)
Sender: Station 6, South Africa (1st Lt Tom Lucas)
Recording location: Station 6
>Begin Transmission:
>>Receiver: 6 this is Liquid over.
>>Sender: Roger that Liquid. How far are you from the site?
>>Receiver: I am currently passing 3rd Platoon now. I see red smoke in the jungle.
>>Sender: Negative, look for green smoke.
>>Receiver: Roger that. Engage red?
>>Sender: Not yet. We need to make sure that's not friendlies lighting the wrong grenade.
>>Receiver: Understood.
>>Sender: Do you see green smoke?
>>Receiver: That's a negative. All I see is red smoke over.
>>Sender: Wait while I contact the ground forces.
>>Receiver: (Off radio: Bloody ground pounders.)
>>Sender: Hang on (pause). Ok, red smoke is hostile. Repeat, red is hostile. You are cleared to engage.
>>Receiver: Roger. Engaging. (Pause then explosion) I see Covenant contacts moving for cover. Permission to engage?
>>Sender: Negative. Do you see green smoke?
>>Receiver: Negative (pause) wait (pause). Yes, I see green. Repeat, I see green smoke.
>>Sender: Roger. North of the smoke, do you see a slight rise?
>>Receiver: Yes, I see a small hill.
>>Sender: Good.
>>ERROR IN TRANSMISSION: SENDER LOCATION CHANGED. NEW LOCATION UNKNOWN.
>>Sender: Hit it.
>>Receiver: Hit it?
>>Sender: Yes. Burn it.
>>Receiver: You sure?
>>Sender: Yes! Hit it now before they're overwhelmed.
>>ERROR: Sender data double.
>>Receiver: Woa! What was that? I just got a massive energy burst over the com.
>>Sender (1): Hello? Hello? (Static) This is Station 6 calling Liquid.
>>Sender (2): HIT THEM NOW!
>End Transmission.
>Press Enter to Continue.
-------------------------
Lt Tom Lucas' heart skipped a beat. What the hell was this? He had been talking with Liquid and suddenly the radio cut to static leaving Lucas staring dumbfounded at his radio equipment. After a quick check with the engineers Lucas established there was nothing wrong with his end so did that mean something was wrong with Liquid? Had he been shot down? Impossible, his IFF tag showed him still in the air moving at a constant rate. Curiously though Lucas' instruments told him that Liquid was using his radio... and getting a response. Who was he talking to?
"What the hell is happening?" Lucas wondered aloud.
Typing furiously, Lucas tried to re-establish contact with Liquid and was rewarded when his screen told him he was once again in contact with the pilot.
"Hello? Hello? What's going on? This is Station 6 calling liquid."
Lucas nearly jumped out of his seat when another voice shouted over the radio "HIT THEM NOW!"
Who was this? A quick check confirmed that it wasn't Liquid so who else could it be?
"Hello? 6 Is that you?"
Lucas' eyes went wide as someone answered... but it wasn't him. "Yes, this is... uh... 6. Now I want you to hit the... green smoke."
It took several seconds for this to wash over Lucas. When he finally came to the only logical conclusion Lucas almost wished he hadn't.
"Liquid. This is 6. Do nothing. I repeat, do nothing."
Lucas had to buy himself some time to locate the Covenant bastards hacking into his network and show them the true meaning of pain. If he could locate where they were from their hack then he could call Liquid over to their position and have him turn everything into mush. The firepower Liquid's fighter was packing was nothing to poke a stick at; he could punch a hole in even the mighty Covenant Scarab... if a somewhat small one.
"... Liquid. This is 6. Hit the green smoke."
"Uh, 6. What the hell is going on?"
Lucas squashed the Covenant transmission from his com network and set about trying to locate the exact position of the hack. While doing that Lucas quickly turned on the com and spoke to Liquid in an attempt to seem on control of the situation.
"Hang in there Liquid. The Covenant just tried to hack our network. I'm trying to get a location now so you can blast them."
There was a pause as Liquid mulled this over then he responded "How do I know it's you?"
Lucas smiled grimly. "Ask me something only I'd know."
"How long since my last divorce?"
"You've never been married."
-------------------------
Tactical Sergeant Michael Mance smiled into his mask. "Roger that. I'll wait for you to contact me again."
There was no response but Mance wasn't expecting one. He knew Lucas was busy with his work. The man took his job seriously, something Mance could respect. While waiting Mance looked out of his cockpit and down at the wide expanse of greenery below then powered down his engine. Alternating between gliding and actually powering the engines would not only conserve fuel (which he strongly believed he would need as once ground forces had him to back them up they were typically very reluctant to let him go) but it would also stop him from being too far away from the combat area at anytime so he could quickly jump back into the action. Mance exhaled in awe at the beauty that lay below him and wondered how anything as destructive as a battle could exist below the tree canopy. He was answered when small arms fire occasionally stuttered up from below to meet him. It was annoying but Mance knew better than to return fire, it was dangerous enough when he had a clear view of the battlefield but when he couldn't see anything then the likelihood of him hitting the marines was just too high. Mance wasn't really here to shoot at anything anyway; he was carrying much needed ammunition for the stuck platoon below so any Covenant he managed to kill while dropping the supplies was only a bonus.
"Liquid, are you still in the area?"
Lucas knew damn well he was still in the area; he had tabs on all air units. Mance put two and two together, concluding that after the com hack Lucas had lost all faith in his machine's abilities. This could prove to be dangerous. Mance knew that it was a bad idea to trust only your instruments, the reason why he always double checked he was shooting the right thing with visual confirmation, but when your only ears in the battlefield are electronic you had to put some faith in your instruments.
"Yes I am, if you checked your radar you wouldn't need to ask me."
"... sorry. I have a location for the source of the hack. If you hurry you might still be able to hit some of them as they run away."
"Am I still dropping theses supplies or what?"
Mance wanted to know if there was a genuinely helpful reason for his being here or if he was only here to play 'Spot the odd alien'. Having no patience for timewasters Mance wanted to know if his presence held any importance.
"Yes, but I want this done before they're able to save enough equipment to hack in again."
Then Mance was all professional again. Hiding himself behind the cover of professionalism was something he did often in combat and now he had a job to do with parameters under which to perform it. Hit the Covenant position before they got away and deliver the supplies before the ground team no longer needed them.
"Roger that. Receiving coordinates now."
Mance swung his fighter around and hit the accelerator. Gathering up speed before launching a missile increased the speed of the missile, basic physics, which in turn increased the missiles penetrating power. Mance's HUD displayed a marker showing him the origin of the hack and other logistical data relating to what he was about to do to it.
"Target confirmed. I have a lock. Firing."
Releasing the locking pins on a missile Mance let fly and pulled up slightly so that while he would be able to watch the missile impact he would not hit the ground right after it. The Covenant had picked a good place to set up a hack. Too good. The elevation meant that they were an easy target for Mance and the missile impacted perfectly sending up a plume of fire, smoke, trashed machinery, plants and... other things.
"Target neutralised. Over."
"Roger that Liquid. Look for the green smoke."
Irritation welled up in Mance. He had played this game already and was tired of it. He didn't hate the marines but it was hard for him to feel any particular love or camaraderie toward them either. It was their own damned fault that they needed ammunition, not his. Regardless of his feelings through Mance knew that he had a job to do and that the marines did serve a purpose, which made his life easier so he swivelled his head back and forth looking for the smoke. This time however it wasn't long before he spotted the green smoke rolling into the air from the same place it was last time. Taking this as a good sign Liquid activated his intercom.
"Spotted the smoke 6."
"Roger that Liquid. Drop the package."
-------------------------
A bright white light. That's all Staff Sergeant Glen Floury knew. The white light started to fade away and Glen could once again see his surroundings. He was sitting on his bed in the barracks. Glen could hear the distant sounds of soldiers marching, jogging, practicing their marksman skills, bomb defusing, and room clearing. Even in the next room Glen could hear the telltale metallic sounds of marines cleaning and inspecting their weapons. Glen got up and drank in everything around him. Walking through the room Glen checked every bed in the barracks, though he didn't know why. Maybe it was just out of habit. Finally he came to the beds of his own squad, seeing someone had left a picture of their bed Glen went over to inspect it. Filmore's bed. Glen knew because Filmore had attempted to hide his extensive collection of magazines underneath. The collection had long grown beyond the Corporals ability to hide the damn things so, naturally, everyone knew about them. The only reason Glen hadn't busted him for them was because as opposed to the usual filthy magazines the marines tried to hide Filmore's were about hiking and travelling outdoors. Smiling Glen looked at the picture atop the bed; it was one he'd already seen before. It was a picture of Filmore hiking through some alien world with two other marines from their squad trailing behind him. Glen's mouth soured when he realised that the two marines were in fact dead and one of them he still had to write to tell their mother about. He didn't know how long he stood there staring at the silent faces of the dead but eventually Glen was shaken out of his reverence by a cough from behind him. Turning around Glen came face to face with 2nd Lieutenant Crosshaw, a British officer who seemed to enjoy causing the marines grief.
"Were you planning on joining us anytime soon?" Crosshaw's accent making the words seem all the more snide "Or were you planning on standing here all night with your thumbs up your arse?"
Glen stiffed his back and responded "Sir. No, sir!"
"Good then, everything is settled. You, along with the other squad leaders will lead the chockos out to find the Covenant while I confer with the other officers as to what we plan to do in the long term now that the Covenant has landed."
Glen's face tightened at the phrase 'chockos'. Although the other marines might not have gotten the old World War II reference Glen did know exactly what it meant. It meant that the Lieutenant had no faith in the battle performance of the marines. A 'chocko' or 'Chocolate Soldier' was a solder not fit for battle because they would supposedly melt under the heat. Not his squad, not his platoon.
"Sir. Yes, sir!"
Glen did an about face and ran off to find his squad. As soon as he was out of the Barracks Glen noticed Filmore sitting under a tree casually throwing stones against a wall in an attempt to hit a small dot he must have painted onto the wall. Glen was furious. Lounging about normally was something that he would not tolerate but in such a time of crisis things were made even worse.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Glen yelled with all the authority he could muster.
Filmore looked up then jumped up and locked into position standing with his back ramrod straight. It always amazed Glen that Filmore could have such a quality, it stood in great contrast to his usual persona as the wise-cracking prankster.
"Where's the rest of the squad?" Glen barked.
"No idea sir!" Filmore replied "I was too busy throwing peanuts in the lake..."
"Stow it!" Glen said, interrupting Filmore's joke. He'd already heard this one.
Noticing that his Staff Sergeant was in no mood to joke Filmore decided to remain silent for once. A good move if Glen ever saw one. Glen looked around trying to find any of his other squad members out in the yard. If they weren't in the barracks then there were few other places they could be. There was no town nearby to visit; in fact everything outside Station 6 was dense jungle with the exception of the main road and a large plain to the south of the Station created to give aircraft room to land and take off. As Glen looked he noticed that the sun was exceptionally bright making it very hard to see anything, even things up close. Turning back to Filmore Glen was a little startled to notice that it was hard to see Filmore as well. Through Glen could still tell he laid against the tree once more, rocks hitting the wall.
"Filmore!" Glen yelled "Filmore!"
Glen tried to move toward Filmore but his entire body suddenly felt heavy. Too heavy. Everything became whiter and whiter and Glen noticed how loud the rocks hitting the wall were, much louder than they should have been.
"Filmore!" Glen yelled but still he did not notice.
Glen decided that he couldn't hear him because of the rocks hitting the wall. They were so loud. Everything was becoming so white and so bright as well; it forced Glen to close his eyes. Glen tried to move again but his body was still too heavy to move. With his eyes shut Glen yelled Filmore's name again but there was no response so Glen tried to open his eyes. When he did everything had changed. Long gone were the surroundings Glen remembered and now he was surrounded by battle. Filmore was still across from him but now Glen could see the blood trailing its way down his forehead and a smoking assault rifle lying not too far from his unconscious form. Glen also realised that the loud sound of rocks banging against the wall was in actual fact the sound of artillery shells landing near and far. Glen groggily tried to move, tried desperately to get to his fallen comrade but his body would not respond to all of his commands and what commands it did respond to were too slow.
"Get down!"
Someone yelled near Glen and an explosion rocked the earth sending dirt everywhere. Glen forced his lazy muscles to move and dragged himself to Filmore picking up the rifle and slinging it across his back as he went. He wasn't sure if he had a steady enough hand to control the damn thing while it bucked against him but Glen felt safer with its familiar weight against his back anyway.
"Filmore." Glen croaked.
Filmore stirred and raised his head this time filling Glen with relief. He still didn't look good though, blood covered most of his face and his breaths were coming out in wheezing gasps. Though after sitting next to Filmore for a few minutes Glen realised that it was not in fact Filmore wheezing but him, Filmore was breathing peacefully. Glen looked down at his chest but saw nothing. He was wondering why he was still breathing with great difficulty when everything came rushing back to him. The grenade, the burning and being dragged back by Filmore. He was hit trying to save his squad leader. Glen groaned and tried to stem the flow of blood coming from Filmore's head by applying pressure, completely ignoring his own wounds. Glen cradled Filmore in his arms holding the Corporals head against his chest as plasma wined past them and tracers responded in kind. Off in the distance Glen could hear the familiar sound of a warthog's chain gun.
-------------------------
1st Lt David Scully had made radio contact with 2nd Lt Crosshaw only a few minutes ago and, following the other officers instructions, he was quickly led the dismounted team along with the warthogs to the hill on which most of 2nd Platoon were making their last stand. Scully had only managed to acquire five warthogs two with rear-mounted, three-barreled M41 Light Anti-Aircraft Guns (LAAGs), one with the hulking M68 Gauss Cannon quickly becoming popular amongst the more explosive orientated marines and two transport warthogs with the back end of them reconfigured so that they could carry extra marines. These last ones had no real offensive weapons like the other warthogs but they could carry more wounded and at least the open canopy allowed anyone in the back to fire out of the warthog.
"Lay down some fire behind us!" Scully yelled over the din.
Unfortunately whether the transport warthogs could handle themselves or not they would have to be babysat to some degree, meaning that his platoon would be spending just as much time protecting the transport 'hogs as they were trying to find 2nd Platoon. Scully however, knowing this had planned it all out. Each transport 'hog had been assigned a LAAG to guard it and the Gauss was given permission to freely roam around the platoon's position giving heavy mechanized support wherever it was needed.
The Gauss gunner moved the massive barrel to comply with Scully's command and let it rip into an entire squad of Covenant trying to sneak up behind them. The massive cannon fired three times each shot sending sound waves to buffet anyone in the cannon's general vicinity. The sound was almost deafening but the blasts did more to the Covenant than to the humans as Scully watched the first round strike a Brute square in the chest vaporising him and the Grunts unfortunate enough to be near him. The second round tore into a tree sending splinters flying in all directions hitting even more Covenant and the third round went wide not hitting anyone but throwing up dirt and creating a distraction for the Covenant nonetheless. Scully looked to the Gauss gunner. A young private named Rudd.
"Pour that gun into every nook and cranny. Don't be afraid to waste ammo!" Scully yelled to him.
The private just nodded and continued his reign of terror. It wasn't long before they started picking up squads of battle worn marines who swelled the ranks and added to the fire going out. Now given a cohesive force to rally behind and fight, the previously tired marines got their second wind and fought with renewed vigour and passion. Scully organised the new weapons into positions previously not covered by his platoon and it wasn't long before the incoming fire slackened and the Covenant troops began to retreat under the sweltering marine firepower.
"Oh yea!" yelled LCPL Joseph Light switching from his Battle Rifle to Sniper Rifle.
Light was using the old fashioned rifle which had long since been replaced with a much more current version but he refused to hand his in for a replacement. Old Zippo at the armoury was fuming about that one. Scully didn't believe this was because he cared about Light using a lesser weapon but because Zippo wanted the weapon for his own collection.
A marine smiled at Light and asked "Why are you using shit?"
Light smiled back and replied "We're gunna need the NV (Night Vision) on this shit."
Scully silently agreed with Light's evaluation of their situation. The sun was fast disappearing over the horizon and if they didn't hurry the hell up then they would be fighting the Covenant in the dark. Something Scully was not all that happy about. As a means of keeping the marines light he had ordered that anything not absolutely necessary to combat be left behind to all they're proper night equipment was still back at base. Cursing himself for a general lack of oversight Scully made himself promise that if he ever did get himself back to 6 alive then he would never send his troops out of base again without full and proper gear.
"Let's get it into gear! I want to be out before nightfall!" Scully shouted into the com.
Squad leaders yelled at their individual groups to comply with Scully's orders and the platoon double timed it to the hill where most of 2nd Platoon was making what was more and more becoming their last stand.
"Watch this." Light yelled to no one in particular as he brought his sniper to bear.
Light pulled the trigger and the sniper kicked against him sending a single round tearing through the trees and right into the space that had, only a second ago, been occupied by a Brute's head.
"Damn it!" Light cursed.
"Stop showboating!" Scully yelled at Light.
Immediately the smile disappeared from his face as Light put his sniper away and switched back to his Battle Rifle. Scully was pissed. He had no time to be keeping his marines on track while they humped it to 2nd Platoon, he shouldn't have to. Scully tapped his com and hailed Crosshaw.
"Crosshaw this is Scully. Do you read?"
"Roger that. Where the hell are you guys? We are dying out here."
"We are trying to get to you right now. I could use a little help though. Hit a beacon so I can see you on my HUD."
Crosshaw's next words were laced with so much sarcasm that Scully actually winced "Of course! Why didn't I think of that!? Oh, wait! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'll be inviting every Covenant bastard in the country to come and slaughter us!"
Crosshaw was infamous for both his sarcasm and his 'No BS' approach to telling people what he thought about them. It had gotten him into a lot of trouble with the brass and had resulted in his demotion on no less than five occasions but it also earned him the unquestioned respect of many of the marines. Crosshaw was a man who you either loved or hated, there was no in between.
"We need that beacon. The Covenant already knows where you are but we don't."
Scully waited for a moment but there was no response.
"Crosshaw? What's happening?"
There was still no response but a flashing marker did appear on Scully's HUD which he assumed marked 2nd Platoons position. Sending the coordinates to both his platoon and to any other marines who might be in the area then Scully broadcast a message to all of Dog Company.
"This is Lieutenant Scully. Everyone is to hump it to these coordinates immediately. That is where we will all meet together. If you are not there in," Scully consulted his watch "fifteen minutes we will leave without you. I repeat, everyone to the beacon now."
Scully had no intention of leaving anyone behind but he hoped to could inspire the soldiers to move faster if he gave them a time limit. This place was too hot for them to stay in for any period of time, the best thing to do was to get the hell out and carpet bomb everything.
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