Posted By: Mainevent<email@example.com>
Date: 18 September 2003, 2:13 AM
Chapter Nine-And you thought that was all.....
'Salemee watched as the marines tended the wounded marine only inches from his face. He could even smell their obnoxious odor as they helped their comrade. It would take a lot more than luck to get him out of this if they found him.
"What happened here soldier?" One of the more experienced humans asked. 'Salemee's translator was working fine, and he understood every word the humans said clearly.
"I dunno sir, we were just walking and then a plasma bolt came from under there and hit him." The marine pointed to 'Salemee's hiding spot, and he was sure they had seen him.
Another of the humans, the one who had kicked the gun under the tent walked up and spoke timidly to the leader. "Sir, I accidentally kicked one of their plasma pistols under there when we were marching in, it probably hit the support and discharged, sir."
The commando elite took a deep, but silent, breath as the humans helped their fallen to his foot and then kept on in their attack. He was curious of their tactics, and hadn't really taken the time to analyze them during battles. These creatures, though vile and disgusting they may be, cared enough for each other to help them during a battle, which was more than 'Salemee could say for his race.
He felt the ground under the tent beside him, looking for an alternative escape route, and found one. The covenant material made a slight scraping sound as he rolled under it, and the sound of curious passer-byes sent a chill through him.
A quick prayer was sent to the gods, but he doubted even they could help him now. He braced himself on a nearby support and got to his feet as the small column of light bit into the darkness. 'Salemee could easily put a plasma round into it's cranium, but that would only bring more, and that would be a bad thing.
He knelt down and backpedalled as silently as possible behind some of the large metallic crates that had been set up. Tripping on a rock as he did so, he went tumbling into one of the containers, tipping it.
A strange sound stuttered through the room whilst the covenant storage unit rocked tediously to and fro. The ominous click of the enemie's weapons overpowered the fear of being seen. Their other powerful weapon was about three feet long, and black. 'Salemee had seen it rip through even the most experienced elite's shields and flesh in a single shot before.
A hard slam shook the ground as the air rippled in pain from the shock. 'Salemee curled up into a ball, and noticed four marines, all aiming their weapons at him. Strangely, they were combing them back and forth.
How could they not see him? He was sitting right in front of them. He glanced around, looking for an explanation, and suddenly noticed that he hadn't even seen himself. His spiny fingers were wiggling as fast as he could entice them to, but were nowhere to be found. THe shocked marines lowered their weapons and then began walking out of the room.
"What in the hell just happened back there?"
"I have no idea, but all I know is that it isn't in there anymore."
"But I mean, that container just fell over, that isn't natural."
"There are a million things that could explain it, let's just go. I want to kill me some scum sucking aliens."
"Amen to that brotha."
After they had left, 'Salemee stood up as quietly as possible once again. This time, he was invisible. He didn't know how, or even why, but he was. This could come in very handy later on...
The small band of marines had come to the site of an all out battle royale. Huge plumes of smoke and debris littered the pristine air as explosions thundered through the earth beneath them.
The familiar zing of bullets and whizz of plasma fire greeted their unnerving ears like so much candy to a baby. Their stay in the underground prison had been enough quiet for one day, and they were ready to kill something.
Hector was the first to go charging into the mix, shotgun in hand as he did so. He managed to squeeze of five rounds into the back of a helpless elite who had been pinned down by some marines on the other side of the compound. The brothers-in-arms gave a thumbs up and a quick smile and then moved on.
Two grunts came roaring past him, and he stepped into the alley to get a clear shot. The odd, yet familiar, sound of a heavy diesel motor behind him struck him cold.
Spinning around only served to prove his hypotheses. Which was that there was a scorpion tank speeding towards him. The saliva hadn't even formed a lump in his throat before the wall hit him.
Miraculously, he wasn't dead. The wind had been knocked out of him, and he had a ferocious headache, but he was still in one piece. No broken bones called out to him, but the tank wasn't anywhere to be seen. The deep mud trails left in it's wake proved that it had been there, and the body of a crushed elite seemed to clue him into what happened.
The alien bastard had apparently stumbled into the wrong alley at the right time, at least for Hector. It amazed him that only seconds earlier he could have been the one lying there like only so much ravaged flesh.
Sorrow was an odd companion during battle, and not one he often wished to have, but now was different. He felt for the unknown soldier who was just doing his duty.
He coughed several times as dust filled his lungs, and he shielded his eyes from the extremely bright sun that loomed overhead. The sound of weapons fire had lessened, but was none the less present. How this battle managed to subside so quickly was beyond Hector, but that was apparently a good thing for the humans.
'Salemee stumbled into the open, his translucent skin protected him somewhat from the enemie's sight, but he couldn't be sure. If he didn't get a better weapon soon, it wouldn't matter one way or the other. Plasma pistols were good for one thing, hunting. That was as much use as he had ever found for the slow and laborious weapons.
He watched one of his comrades brush past him, apparently unaware of his presence, and then proceeded to follow him. The blue-armored elite he was chasing was glancing quickly from side to side as he crossed alley's, but not taking enough time to truly check for enemies.
He didn't even have time to warn his fellow combatant before he had come crashing into a human carelessly standing in the midst of a walkway. The relatively scrawny human was sent tumbling several times, and his eyes were closed, probably dead.
'Salemee hadn't even raised his claw in congratulations before the human's armored behemoth covered the ground with the elite's bodily fluids. 'Salemee's feet dug into the loose topsoil as he began slipping backwards, trying to halt himself from a similar fate.
A sharp pain ravaged his mandibles as his face collided with the ground and his forehead a rock. A troop of three marines came surging to his location, still apparently unaware of him. They must have been checking the condition of their fallen compatriot.
'Salemee's eyes widened as they cocked their weapons and sighted them to his chest. "How could they see him?" he wondered. He glanced at his scaly fingers, and to his amazement he could see himself again. What had happened he wasn't sure of, but he knew he wasn't going to like what was coming next.