Nightwraiths: The Wrath Of The Shadows-Chapter 2
Posted By: Conrad Lauf<firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 6 May 2004, 9:38 AM
JARAH'MEE exhaled deeply as he patrolled the hall, bored as usual. He hadn't been in conflict for three months now, and longed for battle. He met Su'lantee at the corner where their halls met, and said, "This task is ever pointless! The tan-skins know that we will kill their leader if they attempt to rescue him, and therefore they will not risk their leader's life by being detected by our radar. So why is everyone so worried about nothing?"
Before Sulan'tee could answer though, a human voice replied, "Because our APs' radar-absorbent paint cannot be detected by your forces. Therefore you have much to worry about."
And with that a black-clad figure wearing a balaclava, and covered with stealth weapon holsters burst around a corner, emptying two clips of twin silenced M6D pistol rounds as he strafed the elites' hallway with a line of fire. Once on the other side of the T-intersection, Casey slammed fresh clips into his pistols. He burst back out, leveling both pistols, their laser-sights finding an invisible target on the elites' foreheads. Casey pulled the triggers, and with that Sulan'tee and Jarah'mee left this world. He removed his mask, spat on Jarah'mee's body and said, "Too easy."
Wendell screamed again as a Jackal torturer applied a drop of plasma to the palm of his hand. "I'm telling you," he sobbed, "I don't know the route to Earth from this planet. And even if I did, I would rather die than give it to you."
He spat at the face of the elite interrogator sitting opposite him, who slowly wiped the sputum from his facial armour. "Very well," it said. "Double the amount of plasma to his hands!"
A scream echoed down the hall. Casey's team paused, and continued, doubling their pace. Casey said, "Wraiths! Fasten silencers to your assault rifles! We're about to have a hell of a fight on our hands! Remember, use your assault rifles, then pistols. Let them remember that we will always best them in subterfuge and combat!"
Casey heard another scream, right around the corner, and halted. "Jones!" he whispered. "Get that grenade launcher here now!" Private Alex Jones ran forward, shoving a smoke grenade into his launcher. "Bounce one into the room, so we have a protective wall." Jones tucked the butt against his shoulder, and puller the trigger. A small, grey cylinder shot out, and ricocheted off the wall opposite them. Casey pulled down his gas mask. The others copied him. And at that moment all hell broke loose in the mess hall.
A grunt screamed as blood-red laser beams cut through the smoke, passing over its tiny body. A softened 'blam' sent it sprawling backwards, flipping head over heels, where it lay, its respirator shattered, exposing its lungs to the poisonous oxygen. As the smoke cleared, the Nightwraiths strode through the dissipating mist, guns blazing, a couple of Wraiths firing silenced MA5Bs with one hand, emptying clips of M6Ds into the Covenant with the other. Within minutes the Covenant guards were slaughtered. Or so they thought. Casey's stomach clenched. The elite interrogator was standing over Wendell, the beaker filled with plasma being held above Wendell's head, on the verge of being spilt. This was a crisis situation. "Freeze," said Casey, holding up his hand, motioning for his Wraiths to cease fire.
"I'll do it!" growled the elite, jolting the beaker forward, a tiny drop of it splashing onto Wendell's shoulder, burning through his ceremonial jacket. Wendell stifled a scream of pain. "Okay, okay," said Casey, placing his M6Ds on the floor in front of him, and kicked them away. A clattering sound indicated that the rest of the squad were also surrendering their weapons. The elite paused, and placed the beaker on the table beside him. And drew his plasma rifle. "Too easy," he hissed, and fired an extended burst. At Wendell. Casey covered his eyes, not wanting to witness Wendell's death. When he removed his arm, Wendell's head was gone. "Now its time for you to die," laughed the elite, swinging around the rifle. But Casey had already drawn out the twin SMGs stashed in the back of his combat fatigues and dropped to his knees, causing the plasma bolts to whistle overhead, fizzling out harmlessly on the steel wall behind. The Nightwraiths followed suite, and before the elite knew what was happening, he was assaulted by dozens of rounds, stumbling back against the table and falling. The beaker, three-quarters full of liquefied plasma, then toppled forward. Right over the elite. Its howls of agony filled the room, echoing off the walls as the squad of Nightwraiths left the bunker, carrying the body of Commander Wendell between them.
A solemn procession made its way through the streets of New York, carrying the covered body of the deceased Commander. A priest began the funeral, his low, booming voice filling the monstrously huge cathedral. The Covenant forces would never relent, but the hunt must go on.
If you liked this story, then give me good comments, and I'll write more in this ongoing series about the adventures of the Nightwraiths. And as you can tell, not all their adventures have happy endings, but that's just to create an unexpected ending.