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Lost: Part 1- Headache
Posted By: MasterSushi<mastersushifp@hotmail.com>
Date: 24 January 2005, 7:53 PM
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Sergeant John Tedston opened his eyes wearily. It took a while for the haze in front of his eyes to clear, and when it did he found himself staring upwards, his head pounding. He lay there, unmoving for a minute or more then, slowly, he turned his head to the left to see a small lamp glowing in the corner, illuminating three hardy looking Marines. He sat up and realised he was lying in an instacrete bunker.
His memory was still obscure, but he recognized the fellow Marines to be part of his squad. His squad leader Staff Sergeant Larrower, Private Remsot, and a young women he didn't recognise, but the single chevron on her shoulder meant that she must have been a Private First Class.
"He's awake!" The young women looked happy, thrilled, and walked over to him. She sat on the floor with him and, to his surprise, clutched his hand. Then she leant over and gave him a kiss on the mouth. A nice gesture, but not one used often in the Marines.
"How are you feeling?" Larrower took several steps towards him and stood over Tedston, allowing the Sergeant to see his superior's gaunt countenance, which was a menacing one in the turquoise light that shone from what looked like a stolen Covenant light amplifier. He knew that his threatening features were the result only of war and that the SSgt was really quite soft hearted in person. Wait. A Covenant light amplifier? But that would mean-
"You are aware of our situation Sergeant?" Larrower looked stern.
"Um... No... I don't think I am. Well, maybe." Tedston dropped his gaze, trying to remember.
"The Covenant invasion. Do you remember?" Now Private Remsot stood just behind Tedston and gave an encouraging smile. Remsot was young and inexperienced but would easily go far in the Marines. Tedston felt a brotherly love towards Remsot, they had fought beside each other on many occasions.
"Yeah," replied the Sergeant, giving back a weak smile, "I remember." The ships. The battering their defences had taken. The sirens. Getting armed. Getting beaten. And hiding in here.
"And do you remember us?" Remsot looked positively at Tedston, still smiling.
"Yeah I remember... Apart from-" he turned to the women, "I don't recall your face." The women looked taken aback and her grip on his hand loosened.
"You don't remember her?" the SSgt also looked shocked.
"No. I'm sorry." The women looked hurt and turned her head away from him.
"I'm Private First Class Torren..." A pause "Amy." Tedston felt a burning guilt flourish low in his gut. Whoever this PFC was she was obviously meant to be deeply important to him. Seeing no signs of remembrance in the Sergeant's eyes, she carried on. Duty before desire. "So. What are we planning on doing?"
The Staff Sergeant saw the pain on Torren's face, but had to ignore it. "We'll leave the bunker and see what we can salvage. Maybe a vehicle, a 'Hog perhaps. Something we can use to drive quickly to a friendly base."
"What if their are no friendly bases?" Remsot's smile had disappeared, "What if there's nothing left? They could be about to glass us." There was a long silence, but Remsot's statement was put aside.
"What weapons do we have?" Tedston stood up.
"A few pistols and rifles."
"That's not to bad. How much ammo?" Larrower answered with a gesture towards a bunch of crates.
"Quite a lot. But we'll be on the move, so we can only take what we can carry." Tedston grabbed an M6D and as many clips as he could bear. "Right. Let's go."
Tedston moved out of the bunker into the open air. It was bright outside and there was no sign of enemy presence. He gave the others a hand onto the rubble and loaded a clean clip into the grubby hilt of the pistol. Each of them checked their weapons and then Larrower gave them the order to move out.
Two by two, half crouching, they moved down the deserted, war-torn street, using the debris as cover. A few cars were upturned and all were in bad condition. Their windows were smashed and wheels ruptured. One was crushed and another cloven almost clean in half. Many of the surrounding buildings were totally razed whereas some had lost roofs, doors or the entire front wall.
Soon the Marines came to a T-junction in the road. One half of the team took protection on the left corner of the street and the other pair took shelter on the right. Concealed they looked down the opposing streets on the 'T' and scrutinising it for symptoms of enemy troops.
Tedston spotted a single Elite patrolling up and down the street. On the other side of the road stood a group of Grunts quarrelling with each other. They wouldn't have been much of a problem, but that Elite would. Maybe they could sneak past while the Elite was facing the other way? Not without those Grunts spotting them. And if they shot the Grunts first they would surely alert the Elite.
"Take out the Grunts first. Then we can go at the Elite unchallenged," commanded Larrower. Tedston nodded and took aim, conscious of his pounding head and the young women who kept looking at him like some forgotten love.
Larrower pulled the BR55 Rifle's oracle up to his eye. The Elite was way down the other side of the road now. He aimed neatly at a small, grey face. He clenched the grip of the gun firmly and then pressed hard on the trigger. A rattle like that from a certain aggressive snake struck the air, as three 9.5x40mm bullets loosed themselves from his weapon. As the gun retorted against his shoulder, he heard his squad quickly follow suit. Then he saw his enemy's tiny heads snap backwards, their arms waving slightly in the air, and then their limp bodies fall to the dirty ground.
At the bottom of the street the Elite turned and roared. It bent over and charged at the group, its slavering mandibles staggering with the snarl that echoed from its cavernous maw. It raised its Plasma Rifle in its hands and targeted its prey.
Tedston and Larrower ran for their previous cover as the heated plasma shot towards them, Torren did the same but her leg was slightly burned by splashes of the abnormal bullets. Remsot however, seemed stunned.
The Elite carried on its battle charge, heading straight towards the stationary Marine, a small trail of plasma dump dissipating behind him. The weapon cooled down and the Sangheili raised its trusty rifle once more. Aiming straight for the Humans head. He would not miss. He could not.
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