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Forgotten Soldiers part 1
Posted By: cloud<arantspellcaster@excite.com>
Date: 13 December 2002, 1:08 am


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Private Waters had never seen combat before. His instructor had always called him a "greenhorn". Unfortunately this moniker had stuck with him even after all the others had ceased to be called so. As he ducked behind a boulder, he realized what the insulting name meant. Three months ago the Covenant had discovered the location of Earth. ONI theorized that one of their reconnaissance ships had been captured off-guard and was not able to initialize Cole Protocol. The bastards had exited the Slipstream not three kilometers away from each other in a tight formation that had vaporized every escape craft that attempted to delay imminent doom. Surprisingly, the Covenant had not glassed the planet. Instead they had sent thousands of dropships streaming down planetside. The UNSC had tried their best, but they were outnumbered two hundred to one. The veteran and professional soldiers had died faster than the UNSC could issue burial details. Soon even untrained soldiers and mercenaries for hire were called in. They were the last hope for the civilians of Earth. So far all they had managed to prove was that they were piss-poor protectors. Thirty-two million souls, military and civilian, had been lost so far. Private Waters looked like he was about to join them. The objective of this operation had been to capture a Covenant carrier and hold it long enough for ONI to get there and raid the ship's computers. One had touched down in New Zealand four hours ago. They had picked a prime spot atop a hill that was ringed with boulders along it's top. As soon as they touched down though, all hell broke loose. One Pelican had been carrying their Jackhammer launchers and ammunition. Another had been carrying sniper rifles and grenades. Both had gotten fragged as soon as the Marines had turned their backs. The other had been too badly damaged to even fly a few kilometers. Corporal Sigers had been blown apart by one of those "sticky" plasma grenades. All the Marines could do was hunker down behind the boulders and blast away with their MA5B's. They had received a transmission from the damaged Pelican seven minutes earlier, the faint voice had told them that NavSpecWep was sending backup. Private Vale had their last rocket launcher and six shells. He took careful aim and fired on an advancing Wraith tank. The frontal section of the hovering plasma-spewer peeled back like an orange rind. Despite their hopeless position Waters managed a grim smile. Suddenly a Grunt leapt over the boulders and fired wildly with it's plasma pistol. The burning energy splashed over Privates Horman and Takami. Even as they screamed, their assault rifles bisected the Grunt. A medic ran from the damaged Pelican and started to fill them with biofoam. Vale was about to fire another rocket when a bolt of plasma washed over his Jackhammer, melting it and burning his hand and shoulder off. Amazingly, he did not even flinch as he reached for the dead Grunt's plasma pistol and managed to squeeze off a few shots even as the medic grabbed the stump of his arm and started taping it up. Suddenly Waters heard a loud thrumming sound, he turned expecting to see a Covenant dropship. Instead, he saw a descending UNSC dropship. When the Pelican touched down he thought that it was carrying more opponents rather than reinforcements. A huge, man-shaped monster stepped out of the dropship. He could see his reflection in it's iridescent, midnight black armor. There was no insignia on it's armor, but his HUD displayed a rank message: SPARTAN III SPEC OPS DIVISION. Thirty such figures stepped out of the Pelican and surveyed the situation. A taller creature stepped forth and spoke.
"This is Spartan 039, Private, Give me a status report."





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