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The Covenant's Double Entende
Posted By: BrutalArt<Rodentdung1@hotmail.com>
Date: 6 December 2003, 1:51 PM
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The Covenant's Double Entende
Pillar of Autumn, orbiting Halo
"Any word on the mission yet?" asked one of the crew after finishing reactivation of Master Chief, the cybernetically enhanced leader of the much vaunted Black Turtle recon team.
Chief rotated his arms and legs a few times to make sure the battlesuit was fitted right. "Hill 1519 codenamed Dingo. Some no name who cares about lump totally unsuited for site-seeing that apparently provides a commanding view of the surrounding forests and plains. Might be good for a laugh though. A Covenant observation team just went in the other day to set up a post on top. Easy pickings. Any of you ever gone duck hunting?"
The crew laughed in appreciation and finished loading him up with weapons. "The marines have already boarded the Pelican lift. They're just waiting for you now sir."
"Roger that, I'm on my way."
Covenant HQ War Room, Halo, inner suface
The war counsel sitting around the long table chatted while waiting for the revered Yellow Commander Borshk, a retired war dog far beyond his physical prime yet fully primed in the wisdom of military strategy. The counsel itself consisted of other retired elite commanders chosen for their well-proven leadership skills. The crisp clop of the old Yellow Commander's boots resounding on the dark gleaming floor panels hushed the counsel.
Borshk stood at the head of the table with his usual know-it-all grin splitting his scaly face, waiting for someone to speculate about the news. In some spots, the scales on his face had peeled off and been replaced by dried-up puss, just one of the unpleasant side effects aging elites had to put up with.
The counsellors knew better than to put forth any guess which would only have invited the commander's ridicule and deflated their swollen egos. Borshk went ahead and broke the ice. "Gentlemen, I have good news for you yet again: our scientists have made a technological break-through to give us an edge in our invasion of Halo." The others leaned forward in their chairs, eager for the news. New technology was always exciting for them, the same way kids are titulated over being given new toys to play with.
Borshk continued. "We have developed a new kind of radio wave jammer." Most of the counselors settled back in their chairs. "Why so disappointed? This could very well tip the balance in this stalemate we are now stuck in. Give me a moment to explain. This device I am now holding can interrupt radio transmissions, and using the best artificial intelligence available, can mix up the words or simply delete them as it wishes to convey whatever meaning we tell it to convey. It can also search out and find whatever frequency we require by listening for certain key words to distinguish the users."
"Radio technology?" growled Adax, another wisen, old elite, a grouchy old sod whom one certainly would not want to invite to a house party, especially with females present. "This is weak. It's such a waste of resources compared to the sexy new weapon systems still incomplete like that beastly new mortar tank to replace the Wraith... I forget the name of it.." Adax waved his arm like he was shooing away a flood infector "...or the new heavy bombers, whatever! You see my point. We're in a war here, Yellow Commander! Not a playground for your electronic toys. We need destruction! Killing! Screams of despairing human wives and children! Get with the program or is your age.. !"
"You're such a sexy beast, Yellow Commander!" interrupted Adax's own voice coming out of the device Borshk was holding.
"What the ??? I didn't say that! What's going on here?" barked Adax, the chuckles of the other counsels adding to his embarrassment.
"You see now?" answered Borshk, looking all sly and pleased. "My new little toy here selected the words it wanted from what you just said and made a totally new sentence with them. The time it takes to rescramble and form statements is normally under 0.01 seconds so there's no suspicious time lapses in transmissions."
"I still don't see value in it, especially considering voice altering equipment can be used to confuse the enemy in the same way - a method the humans countered long ago and thus rendered ineffective." said Suguar, a younger elite being groomed as a new counsellor.
Borshk shook his head. "No no no, you see the humans countered by using call signs, random security check questions and the like which all are useless in this case of this." He tapped the side of the device while holding it like his own new-born child. "Transmission manipulation is the key here. But it will also soon be countered by the despicable yet adaptable humans just like every other trick we've ever used, so we need to use it wisely while it still works."
"We can feed them incorrect recon reports about our troop strengths and locations." said Suguar.
Borshk smirked. "So simple and weak that is. I have come up with a much more cunning plan to rid us of the humans' greatest asset: their Black Turtle special ops team led by their one and only SPARTAN supersoldier whom they call Chief. Their hit and run attacks, though pinpricks compared to major battle losses, have hurt us in ways we cannot easily recover from: key installation demolitions, convoy ambushes, assassinations etc. I've already initiated Operation Double Entende and need your cooperation to ensure it succeeds. You see, this operation is exceedlingly risky for us, for if it fails, the humans will know everything there is to know about us. Let me explain..."
Base of Hill 1519 Codename: Dingo, Black Turtle insertion point, sunrise
"Piece of cake boys. Saddle up and lets move out. If we take control of that hilltop by lunch, we can have the army provide security for it while we head on back to be in time for wargames tonight. We've got a back-up air mobile force codenamed Pitbull waiting at firebase New York which can be called in within 20 minutes if anything goes wrong." That said, Chief led the small force of 12 marines through the trees and over the rocks up the side of the hill.
Half-way up, Chief climbed up a leafy tree to view the summit through his S2 AM sniper rifle scope. "I got 3 grunts and not much else. Bob, Colin and Mike, leave all your weapons and gear here except for your knives and get on up there 'n take them out silently. It'll be good stealth practice for ya'all. I got your back." Normally, not carrying guns would be considered unnecessary risk, but in the Black Turtle it was just another method of training. They were used to it which was natural considering the pre-combat training had a 5% fatality rate.
"Chief, there might be invisible elites waiting for us up there. I've heard of other recon units getting baited into ambushes this way before." called out Mike.
"Hell no. Elites wouldn't waste their time on this two bit shrub pile. Now move it!"
The 3 marines crawled along the ground using their elbows and knees, disappearing into the greenery. Half an hour later, Chief bellowed out a curse and then said to the remaining marines, "Them's all done. Let's all head up."
"Chief, what's wrong?" asked Steve, the team's computer system specialist.
"One of the grunts got away."
At the top of the hill there was a small shack with an antennae sticking up high off the roof. Two grunts lay dead, both leaking blue blood from their necks. "Sir, the third one escaped on a ghost." said Mike.
"That could compromise the mission as well as our reputation." Chief kicked the door of the shack so hard it bent the thin metal sheet almost completely in half. Then he glared through his helmet visor at the 3 marines who had done the stealth attack.
"Hey Chief, we got something inside here you might be interested in!" called out Steve, the computer system specialist. "They put in a computer link which seems to be connected to the Covenant's military database."
"Checked for devices?"
"It's clean sir."
"Alright then, show me what you got."
Steve typed some commands and the monitor showed a title screen, 'Covenant Military Ops Command Centre'. Next, Steven brought up the current dispositions of units operating in Covenant controlled Halo territory. "Could be fake sir."
"Let's test it. One of our grunt moles managed to get us plans for a new Covenant firebase to be constructed in Sector 2841 at 18 76 so see if that checks out."
Steve typed for several minutes and managed to bring up a list of new bases planned for set up. "There it is, just like you said sir. Coordinates check out."
"The failed attack last week on our outlying base in the Horgen Forest, we estimated Covenant casualites at 512 to our 114. Find out what their real number was."
After a few more minutes, Steve answered, "476 Covenant confirmed and they estimated we lost 229."
"Morons are overconfident. What's it say about me? Nah, forget it... bring up their list of moles."
This time took longer. After some frantic typing and head scratching, Steve finally said, "Here we go sir. Looks like General Tubbs is on the take." The list of names on the screen was too long to fit and had a scroller on the side. Beside each name was rank, length of time employed as a mole, compensation and contact.
Chief gasped, "No way. If Tubbs is the one who leaked the plans for our October counterattack resulting in that slaughter... Anyways this looks like it may be legit. We gotta move fast before this terminal gets cut off. How's it connected?"
"By both antennae and underground cable. It would take a lot to break it, probably only on site."
Chief took out his radio. "Alpha 426 this is Sierra 184 do you read?"
"Loud and clear, 184. Go ahead."
"Chief!" interrupted Colin. "There's a Covenant force approaching! They've just come out of the forest into a meadow 10 clicks away! I got a battalion of mixed ground troops supported by 20 hunters and 10 wraiths with ghosts on the sides. They'll be within firing range in approximately 1 hour."
Chief paused to think for moment and then said into the radio, "We've taken point Dingo and they've set up some kind of cybernet terminal on the summit connected to their military database. One guard escaped on a ghost. Now an enemy force is approaching Dingo from the north. Our weaponry is inadequate to deal with them. Requesting reinforcements and air support. We're gonna hunker down here."
"Pitbull air mobile is being prepared for insertion. ETA 20 minutes. Out."
Meanwhile in the Covenant Electronic Warfare Operations Centre...
Chief's voice came out of the scrambling device, "Alpha 426 this is Sierra 184 do you read?"
"Loud and clear, Sierra 184. Go ahead."
"The Covenant has taken our weaponry and we've escaped. Requesting reinforcements capable to deal with the enemy force now on point Dingo."
"What's your position?"
"Approaching Dingo from the north. We're gonna hunker down here."
"Pitbull air mobile is being prepared for insertion. ETA 20 minutes. Out." The scrambler went silent.
"No air support?" asked a staff member.
"No. We don't want them to see what's really going on. They might send in some sort of gunship but hopefully 'our' boys on point Dingo can take care of it." answered Borshk.
Another staff member snickered. "That's pretty evil but I like it."
On point Dingo, Chief got his men into optimal defensive positions to maximize their fields of fire as well as enabling crossfire to cover each other with. He emptied a large duffle bag filled with guns and ammo behind various positions in the rocks - his personal arsenal as he liked to put it. "No one fires any rockets at ground troops. Save 'em for the wraiths and anything airborne. Pitbull's gonna arrive long before the enemy does anyways so don't sweat it. Being mobile, they don't have any Scorpion tanks but they'll be enough once they have cover and height advantage."
They waited in position, just listening the growing growl coming from the windless forest at the base of the hill. The enemy was pretty much out of view due to the heavy shrubbery and trees. Then came a welcome sound: the unmistakable drone of Pelican dropship propulsions.
The gaggle of Pelicans flew towards Dingo from the south and then veered around the hill and continued on to the north side.
"What in living hell are those morons doing? Must be freakin newbies flying without adequate map training." grumbled Chief. Then to his horror, the Pelicans began to hover over an open space, right in the path of the approaching enemy.
Plasma bolts filled the air, many striking the Pelicans which were knocked about by hits engulfing them in fire and sparks, and then they crash-landed into the forest. The Chief and his troopers armed with sniper rifles watched through their scopes as the Covenant force swarmed towards the crash sites of each Pelican. Fierce firefights could be heard among the trees but the soldiers of Black Turtle could see little else.
Chief switched his radio frequency to army and couldn't make out much from the frantic screams of confusion coming from it so he switched back to his private frequency. "Alpha 426, this is Sierra 184, come in." Getting no response he tried several more times with no luck. "Dirty covies are blocking the transmission again. I thought we fixed that problem."
The sound of more Pelicans to the south grabbed his attention. This time the gaggle dropped their loads exactly where Black Turtle had originally been inserted that morning. "What are those idiots doing now? I said on the hill... ON THE HILL!!!" Chief roared in their direction, his rage increasing with each blunder.
The sounds of gunfire to the north died out and the Covenant forces seemed to stay where they were, just milling around in the forest. "Sir, I reckon they're waiting for reinforcements to replace their losses. I hope we get some more support before they regroup and hit us." said Steve.
"Well, our boys are coming up now from the south now so we should be okay. Don't think too much about what happened. Keep your heads clear for happens next." advised Chief while looking down over the south like a pelican searching the surface of a lake for a fish to swoop down upon. The marines and warthogs began ascending the side of the hill.
Then came the air support. One of the pelicans lumbered through the air towards the hill. To the astonishment of the marines on the hill, Chief dropped the sniper rifle and picked up a rocket launcher. The pelican flew high over the top of the hill and that was when they realized what was happening. Suspended below the pelican by a cable was a barrel shaped object.
"No Chief! Those are our boys flying that thing!" screamed Mike.
"The computer console on top of this hill is worth far more than any one dropship is." Chief's cold reply was followed by the foosh of a rocket which slammed into the side of the dropship near the tail end sending it twirling round and round to finally crumple into the ground setting off the 'support package'. The hill beneath the marines felt like an erupting volcano from the incredible eruption of flame setting the whole south side of the hill on fire. Napalm, long out of favor in the decades following the Vietnam war, became popular again when technological enhancements allowed it to be coupled with an explosive agent, augmenting the cruel power of the munition by many times. Marines unlucky enough to survive the crashing Pelican screamed in horrible agony among the flames spreading like a Californian wildfire.
Some of the warthogs and marines skirted around the enveloped area to continue advancing on the hill. There could be no mistake now. The Black Turtle snipers watched carefully for their targets. A hail of machinegun fire bathed the hilltop forcing the crack marines to keep their heads down. Chief bobbed up and down from several different positions and got off a couple of shots, picking off two marines. He reached down and switched his radio back to army frequency.
"Sniper fire! The bastards are using S2 AM's on us!" "Let's outflank them!" "No, they got more coming up the back. We lost half our force back there already!"
Mike yelled at Chief from behind an egg-shaped rock, "Chief, why are they attacking us?"
"I don't know. They might have mixed up their coordinates back at operations. Just try to get some shots in if you can. We gotta at least hold 'em off until we figure out what's going on cause the database we got is worth more than the whole lot of them!" Chief had just finished speaking when Mike raised his rifle over the rock and fired. Rounds from the gatling gun on a warthog blew Mike's head apart like an egg being thrown against a cement wall by professional baseball player.
Chief cursed and dropped the sniper rifle in favor of a souped-up M90 Shotgun. Normally the firing rate on this gun was restricted by weapons laws to limit friendly casualties that could be incurred by the gun. Chief had no such qualms and had his rig custom-built to not only fire faster but also was fitted with a hydralic recoil suppressor and extra ammo capacity. By this time the 'enemy' marines and warthogs had carefully advanced to close range among the trees and bushes.
Chief used hand signals to tell the others to join him in a counterattack once the enemy suppression fire slowed to avoid friendly casualties in close contact. He jumped and using all the terrain features he could for cover, ran full-out pumping rounds into the surprised, green marines. The army marines were so shocked by the sudden reversal that many just stood for a fatal second or two and were cut down. Black Turtle marines de-crewed a warthog, manned it and opened up with the 30mm chain gun on top, shredding the shubbery sending branches, leaves and chunks of trees and rocks spewing about. A splash of blood decorated the trunk of a big oak. The driver gunned the engine, bouncing and skidding the jeep among the trees, running over a panicking army marine on the way.
"Get off that thing!" yelled Chief in a hopeless bid to be heard over the deafening gunfire. But it was too late. The warthog inevitably hit a tree and Chief watched in sadness as the gunner was riddled with bullets in his back and the driver was more than adequately dispatched by a shotgun shell to the head at close range. After see his men die, Chief's vision just went red with adrenal overload and he ran about on a killing rampage, dropping empty guns and picking up dead marines weapons to continue on. It went on and on until overturned burning warthogs and dead soldiers were strewn all about. Cordite, gasoline and burnt flesh provided an array of aromas to accompany the savage affair.
To his astonishment he actually survived. His battlesuit had deflected many rounds and he lay down to assess his condition. Blood seeped out from a side wound taken by a frag grenade. As he lay there looking up at the leafy tree branches with smoke trailing off behind them, he heard some voices. Only barely conscious, he still managed to jerk himself up to point a shotgun in the direction of the voices.
"Chief, you okay?" It was Steve, Bob and Colin. "Everyone else is dead. We're all that's left."
Chief just stared bewildered for a moment and then started to laugh. Soon enough they were all laughing. They had won. They had defeated half of the Pitbull air mobile force. They were unsurpassed in combat excellence. They were traitors.
Covenant Electronics Warfare Operations Centre
"Okay that's enough. Order the carpet bombers in and then get the battalion up on that hill to search for survivors." ordered Borshk.
The staff put through the orders while Borshk basked in the glory of an operation performed perfectly. Ahhhh, ebony waves of pleasure course through me. I am the ultimate strategist, an icon of pure ingenuity...
An hour later he received word...
"Hilltop is secured and no enemy has been sighted, Yellow Commander." said the staff. "The place is a mess of human dead, smashed vehicles, and downed dropships, a total massacre. Images will be uploaded to us momentarily."
"Good, good. Was the body of Master Chief found yet?" asked Borshk with the hungry anticipation of a gladiator lion waiting for its meat.
"Not yet, but they're working on it. There are a lot of bodies to inspect. You might also want to know Intelligence reported a download from their database originating from a remote site we believe to be in the same area the massacre occurred. It happened shortly before the carpet bombers prepped the hill."
The End
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