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The Brethren of Saturn, Chap. 3 - Deployment And Assault
Posted By: Lynnada<lynnada@pacbell.net>
Date: 28 June 2002, 7:42 am


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"Good afternoon ladies", my primary com technician smirked into his headpiece as the Conclave regrouped with two Saturian carriers and the near-invincible Duspos, a Terran destroyer that had left several battles alone and scarred, but functional.

"This is Majik reporting, our vessel is armed and our Clapers are deployed. Hewletts await deployment."

"Duspos, vessel ready, Longswords deployed. Preparing for surface assault."

A com technician to my left held down a button and lifted a small microphone to his mouth. "Conclave reporting, vessel armed and ready, Hewletts preparing for deployment."

Suddenly, an image appeared on the primary projector. "This is Faber, captain of the Obsidian. All onboard AIs, please project my post in your war rooms for further commands. We are proceeding within the active sector and have all fighters and bombers sweeping the atmosphere for transmissions. There are currently no fighters escorting our vessels, so I expect every gun battery and turret within this formation occupied and ready to scrap aliens. Conclave and Duspos, proceed ahead to meet any Covenant threat. I will give the initiation order for a surface assault in ten minutes, so get all landing craft loaded and standing by."

"All right, people, you heard him. Fire up the PCC and get ahead."

I turned towards my prided officer, Mr. Radi. "I need you to supervise artillery from here and keep in constant communication with the gun decks, we can bet on hostile space. Get the UFD array up now."

"And Gerr, get on the intercom and get all marines to the docking bay on the double, this is an combat situation. Keep missile rooms busy once we open fire. I want the torpedo hatches as active as possible."

"Artillery! Charge up the EMP and get ready to punch some buttons. Eyes and ears, this is no drill!"

In the background of the tension, Gerr savagely blared with urgency over all the speakers. "Get to your stations you metal heads, we're going to sautÈ some alien ass and send it home to their parents slash guardians!"


Mr. Overuchesky yelled at the frantic soldiers. "Get into SINGLE-FILE lines in front of your designated Hewlett with all your stuff!" Fortunately, the marines had prepared most of their equipment and their weapons the night before and only had to affix their helmets and adjust visors. The techs instead were already sitting with their shields and cyclones inside their dropship since this morning, apparently going offline and waking up prepared.

Pilots, casually as always, climbed into their cockpits and slapped high-fives with docking personnel. Their many tours required thick nerves and clear thinking under adversity, and they had become accustomed to the prewar anxiety.

"Alright marines, we're going to war. Some of you have been yearning for action, and I can't guarantee you'll like it. This is serious, and you CAN die. I want all of you to make sure you have your extra mags with you. Switch your safety now but don't turn on the vibration for your bayonets until you land. The first thing you do when you land is to get behind the techs, and drag anyone injured with you. You will be intentionally dropped into distress zones, so you will be under fire the second you step out. The only thing we have to fear is fear itself, that's what Churchill said whether you know him or not. Keep an open mind and say your prayers. Be logical; don't let your emotions kill you. Remember, you are volunteers and defenders of humanity. Two worlds rest upon you, and the best race I know. Make me proud. Are you ready to scrap some aliens?"

"SIR, YES, SIR!!!"

"Then get your ass in there! CHARGE!"

The marines and canine trainers filed into their craft and secured themselves. The dogs had special harnesses outfitted for their security. The soldiers sat anxiously, many whispering different prayers in various languages. The young-minded marines tried to lift a leg or arm to kiss their lucky charms or tags. The optimistic marines cracked anti-liberal jokes to break the tension.


"Sir, we have three inbound enemy vessels. They haven't spotted us yet. The formation array is keeping us off their scans. The Clapers found a battle and the chief has given the strike code. He's calling back the Clapers from bomber escort, they're on the way to help us out."

I peered towards the projector to find Gerr's flickering image while the AI was busy processing information and supervising operations. "Gerr, we are now on red alert so start the wonderful lights and sounds. Clear docking and lower the fields, all Hewletts should be airborne in thirty seconds."

"Sir, EMP disruptor at maximum. Missiles are armed and ready."

"Radar stations report multiple Seraphs closing in quickly! They must have had scouts patrolling the area. They'll get here before the Clapers."

"Fire the EMP now, before our fighters get here. Launch all missiles at the closest capital enemy signature."

"EMP launched, enemy shields down! Missiles one, two, three, four, five, six away! Next six off in three seconds!"

I turned away from the row of scrambling technicians to check up in the right side of the bridge. "Mr. Radi, keep our missiles launching. Waste as many enemy ships as possible and ignore the Seraphs. The turrets can handle the smaller ones."

"Gerr, you just keep on directing the batteries and get Mr. Overuchesky to wherever you need help."

Turning to my left again, I addressed Gerr's shouting. "Sir, gun decks two and five damaged! Deck six is critical!"

"Sir, incoming projectiles! They're hot and closing, eight hundred meters.

"Fire counter pods."

"Pod missiles away! Contact in seven, three, two, one. Two boogers are still live and closing. Three hundred meters!

"Evasive maneuvers!"


"Alpha Red, this is Orange Leader. Break off and sweep around the Majik, we'll take the left."

"Rodger that Orange, we have engaged Covenant fighters."

A squad of eight Clapers broke formation and flew abreast. They made a run along the lower hulls of the carriers and sprinted on to protect the less defended Conclave and Duspos, shooting any Seraphs along the way. Several more squads that originally escorted the Longswords appeared seconds later and swept with grace around the vessels. Turrets and batteries that were still operational ferociously blazed with lasers and gunfire, occasionally damaging engines and sending Seraphs spinning to their doom. The human vessels continued launching volleys of missiles and firing MAC guns, hoping to ensure that the marines and pilots would have a home to return to by the end of the day.





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