 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
Concept Art
Halo Bulletins
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
ARG Forum
Links
Admin
Submissions
Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Through The Devil's Eyes Part II
Posted By: Dari<jahanandish_sam@hotmail.com>
Date: 29 June 2004, 3:44 PM
Read/Post Comments
|
1935 hours, September 24th, 2552 Military Calendar
Aboard Covenant Cruiser The Retribution /
Aradiuns Ocativius System, former UNSC held territory
Still gazing at the holotank that showed the raging torrent of war below, the Ship Master Vora watched intently. So far things seem to be going smoothly and only light casualties had befallen the Special Ops and Black Ops infiltration teams. However the communications traffic over the battlenet indicated that the main assault teams were taking heavy losses. Perhaps now was the best time to send in the Hunters and perhaps even...no. The Brutes were too dangerous, to wily for their own good, if it got worse then he would consider sending in those animals.
"Send down the Hunters, I want that firebase gone!" pointed the Ship Master to one of the human bases that was holding back two assault groups. Looking at the Communications Master, he barked the orders. All Hunters but the Battle Guardians were to be sent down.
Returning to his seat, the Ship Master still wondered how much longer the battle on the planet would take. There were hundreds of thousands of battle hardened veteran soldiers ready to fight his men. And although they possessed the skies and out-numbered them, humans fought like Elites when cornered. What would be their price for negotiating such a costly sell for this world?
Whatever it would be it would most likely be too costly for his liking. But as a Fleet Master's aide and second in command, he had a duty to perform for the Covenant. But something felt in entirely wrong with this whole affair. Why had the Prophet of War not reported to the bridge? He was always there when Vora's ship was engaged in combat or a battle was raging.
Clicking his mandibles lightly and rapping his knuckle against the bulkhead, he disappeared from the bridge. His second look at him and he nodded, he would return soon but his presence was not needed at the moment. Nothing would change for now.
Hearing the orders over The Retribution's battlenet, the bond brothers Naru Oraaam Valgai and Kaaan Oraaam S'yaed lumbered toward their designated drop ship. Two other pairs of Hunters gathered into the cramped drop ship and it took off toward the fiery world below.
"Do you think we encounter any of the Sppparatans? " growled Naru huskily from the other side of the rapidly descending drop ship. The other Hunter shrugged lightly.
Kaaan paused before replying softly, "Perhaps or perhaps not. It does not matter, just be on your guard. We are meeting with a Black Ops team headed by one of the Field Masters ".
The other two pairs of Hunters remained silent and they prepared themselves for another glorious day of war. A hellish war that they never wanted to be a part of or cared for being in, but they could do nothing to change that fact.
****
The Field Master growled in frustration as more black armor clad humans held up in their bunker. These persistent vermin were delaying the Covenant's progress and he would tolerate it no longer. Snatching a Fuel Rod Cannon from one of Spec Ops Grunts, he targeted a fuel barrel and fired. The long arc of spiraling plasma impacted and for a moment, the outlines of the ODST's were visible before being incinerated by the tremendous heat of the explosions.
The remains of some of these less lucky humans were still visible, brunt tremendously, they moaned in pain. Muttering a quick funeral prayer (for in the Field Master's mind, a downed enemy should be dealt with respect and honor, even an infidel) for the dying human, he ended its misery with a quick slash to the neck. The man groaned before falling silent, his blood continually dying the ground a sick red.
"Come on. We still have two hundred more meters till we link up with Kronianalee's forces. The longer you take the less enemy to battle which means less honor! We must be the first at that firebase!" grunted Davaraleei.
His men clicked their mandibles in agreement and they continued their sprint across the plains, after breaking through the first two lines of ODST defenses. Their long legs and stamina carried them far ahead of the rest of the Covenant regulars. But that would also prove to be their greatest vice.
One of the Black Ops noticed a bright glint about several dozen meters ahead of them; he had no chance to report the anomaly. A sniper had found his target and opened his wraith upon the alien. A sizeable chunk of what would've been the upper quarter of the Elite's brain was simply rocketed out its skull.
Howling in agony of what felt like losing a son, the Field Master and his men charged the encamped Marines. Plasma strafed the ground, kicking up sprays of dirt and soot into the air. However the Marines held their own keenly, firing salvos of short bursts, which showered the Elites shields, flaring into the daylight like a miniature nova.
One of the Marines slung his Battle Rifle and with the help of his friend, hastened to aim the Jackhammer. The explosive round tore through one end of the battlefield to another, impacting squarely at the center of the Black Ops formation. The Field Master was smashed into the ground and sent reeling for several yards where he skidded and bounced across the dirt. Two other Elites were unconscious and banged up but still alive.
However the Field Master's aide was dead, his chest full of debris as the rocket had impacted squarely off his shield. It did hold but the detonation at such a proximity sent shrapnel at subsonic speeds through the lightly armored chest plate of the former soldier. Two others lay dead as well, coughing and drowning in pools of violet blood.
Roaring a loud battle cry of martyrdom and igniting his plasma saber once more, the Field Master bowled right into a fire-team's position with two of his men. Swiping one Marine across the fact, he dodged a burst of fire and leveled his plasma rifle to the infidel's temple. The next moment, his two Elites were covered in human blood.
By now though more drop ships had arrived, waves of Elites and Hunters were departed and their combined fire pushed the vermin back toward Costa Eestara. One of the local military strongholds on the planet, it was there that these Marines would fall back to.
A human yelled something obscene and chucked a grenade from his battlement. The fragmentation device exploded, killing another Elite and ripping another's arm off. Purple blood sprayed in all directions and the body became somewhat reminiscent of ashes.
Then, one of the Elites, known simply as Ionoa, retaliated with a heavy-handed retort of plasma from his rifle and pistol. Blue and green death shuddered against metal, sending molten sparks into the air. One human clutched his face as he was unluckily struck twice, burning skin and boiling blood. The man's gurgled death spasms served to remind his comrades what they were fighting for, and another soldier under the Field Master perished.
That's when heavy fallen footsteps could be heard resounding. The humans' faces were stricken with terror and panic. These men were veterans of the conflict of Reach and they knew what was coming. Hunters. Something must have overtaken the Marines as a hell storm of fire erupted from the bunkers and firebases.
More Elites fell as battle rifles sung their songs of death. Peppering fire ripped the front lines of the advancing invaders to shreds and their blood splattered the ground harmlessly. Still the Black Ops persisted with their inhuman strength and progress, taking more and more men down with blows and shots of death.
Red and purple mixed slowly, a melting pot of death and disaster. By now, inaudible shouts from friend and foe alike shattered the groundside battle. More troops reinforced the Field Master's thrust and the front line of the Marines faltered.
"Kill them! Kill them all; send them to the next life. So that they may greet us when we begin our own journey to hell!" pronounced the charismatic Elite. His words served to quicken the pace of the other soldiers. Hell was only a lifetime away from all true warriors.
|
