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The Fall of Fate: Special Edition(Part 5)
Posted By: 'Nosolee<crugg2003@optonline.net>
Date: 4 January 2004, 1:23 AM

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1370 Hours April 29, 2548 (Military Calendar)//Inside the Makeshift Prison

      The blast came so fast and unexpectedly that Wkehu 'Drrana hadn't the faintest idea what had happened. Seconds earlier, he had been gratefully thanking the Ossoonas for rescuing him, and then that fierce explosion. The Elite warrior farthest from him and closest to the blast was split into hundreds of pieces, which proceeded to bounce and splatter all around the room. The second Ossoona was flung headlong into the wall, his skull brutally crushed by force. Wkehu 'Drrana was blown backwards into the prison cell. The right wall was gone and the ceiling of the makeshift shack was half collapsed.
      As 'Drrana slowly regained his focus, he realized what had happened. The last marine to die blew himself up. Relentless bastard, thought the Field-master. They caught the full face of the blast and thus saved my life. The gods will bless you all in the afterlife, he thought. 'Drrana gradually came to his feet and gazed at the ruined cabin. The third Ossoona lay on his back wailing strangled cries from his throat, which had been pierced by a jagged piece of wood. His camouflage faded in and out, creating a ghastly effect that challenged the imagination. Deep violet blood spewed from the Elite's mandibles, and dribbled down his cheek. An expression of terror was imbedded in the warrior's black eyes, which darted violently in their sockets, hoping for some sort of salvation. The Ossoona chocked, his chest heaved forcefully, and his eyes became abruptly still and cold as ice on a glassy pond.
      'Drrana quickly uttered a prayer to the gods, hoping they would grant the Ossoonas an exultant afterlife. He began to push by the smashed pieces of wood and splattered gore, when he heard alarmed voices.
      "What the hell was that!" exclaimed York. "Peters, Browning, move in to see what in God's name happened in there," York cursed under his breath.
      "Yes sir," was Browning's reply. The two marines moved closer to the wrecked cabin. The only thing they could see was smoke coming from the hole in the
half-collapsed roof.
      "York, I can't really see anything. It's all in ruins," Peters said.
      "Try to get a radio transmission from the four guards," York ordered.
      "Yes sir," the two marines answered in unison.
      "Peterson to Carmichael. Do you read me, Carmichael?" Peterson paused with the radio in his hand. "Peterson to Olly, Peterson to Olly. What happened? Over," nothing but static came over the freq. Peterson held the radio up to his mouth again: "Peterson to--" he was cut off by York.
      "That's enough. Go in," York gestured to the improvised prison. The silence and static from the radio scared the marines. They held their assault rifles at the ready—eyes down range, fingers on the trigger, and the butt of the weapon rested between the arm and the shoulder.
      Wkehu 'Drrana heard their voices. He knew they were coming closer.Should I fight?, he thought as his hand felt the smooth plating of the plasma rifle. Should I play dead?, the idea seemed too risky. No, I have a better plan. He held one of the plasma grenades the Ossoonas gave him in his right hand, I will RUN! He replayed the plan over again in his head as his thumb ran over the glossy sphere subconsciously. He activated the round weapon, which proceeded to transform into a flaming blue orb of plasma. He flung the grenade into the cell (whose wall faced away from the battlefield and thus the marines). Three seconds later the bomb detonated into a blue-white explosion. Most of the back wall was gone, leaving 'Drrana limited time to escape before the wrecked prison crushed him.

1370 Hours April 29, 2548 (Military Calendar)//Beneath the Surface of Ucundus, inside the Forerunner Control Center

      "I am truly elated at this find," Augustus said happily, as his enormous holographic body beamed over the control panel.
      "Yeah, me too. Does this place have any other weapons besides the one capable of annihilating the entire galaxy? Is there any interior security that I might have to worry about?" Gregory asked.
      "Don't worry, I have control over all systems. But I can't operate the weapon without something they call the 'Index'. I already told you, this place has energy-pulse cannons," Augustus said.
      "Instead of those too," the Spartan said.
      "Hold on, let me see if there are any forms of security," Augustus began translating the Forerunner encryption. "Yes! The Forerunner have independent robotic assaulters, they call them, Sentinels."

1375 Hours April 29, 2548 (Military Calendar)//Inside the Makeshift Cabin

      'Drrana sprinted from the Cabin as soon as he heard the creaking of the weakened wood and dove at the moment when the whole roof and walls caved in. 'Drrana abruptly rolled onto his back and stared at the smoldering pile of wood that buried seven bodies. He had no time to collect himself, because he was suddenly under a hail of assault rifle bullets.
      "There he is!" Peterson yelled, "Son of a bitch!" Peterson and Browning squeezed the trigger, letting loose dozens of armor piercing rounds.
      "Short bursts! Short bursts!" York yelled to the two marines, as he loaded his shotgun. 'Drrana sprinted as fast as he could, but the bullets grazed and hit him, he had forgotten that his shield generators had been taken out during battle. The pain was tremendous. 'Drrana threw himself onto his stomach, the shots zooming over his head. His weak armor had taken most of the shots, but he had been hit, purple blood dripped from the wounds. He didn't feel like moving, he wanted to die, to die right then and there. He heard their footsteps coming closer to him, he heard the pump of York's shotgun, and he heard the roar of a Banshee's engine.
      The banshee wailed just over Wkehu 'Drrana's head, he saw the two adjacent vapor trails curl in unison as it turned. York dove, and fired his shotgun at the attack craft.
      "Damn it! Where the hell did he come from!" York yelled as he got to his feet.
      "Uh sir, I think you mean where the hell did they come from?" Peterson said as ten small dots appeared from the left side of the sky and another nine from the right.
      "Shit." York said under his breath, he activated his radio. "York to Delta Base 148, do you copy?"
      "York, is that you?" came an alarmed male voice.
      "Yes, what's wrong?" York said as he dove behind a rock while the banshee pounded the ground with twin plasma bolts.
      "Thank God you're alive. We've come under attack, three enemy dropships have entered the atmosphere, and two are deploying troops right on top of us. We've lost sight of the third. Oh my God. York we need as many reinforcements as possible, we weren't prepared for an attack," the voice from the radio said.
      "I don't know how much assistance we can give to you. We've got twenty enemy aircrafts in the area, and I only have me and two marines," York said in a panic.
      "Shit, get back to base A.S.A.P. It'll be easier to fight 'em off from there. Siglain over and out," the transmission was cut. Each of the purple dots in the sky had come into full view now. They swerved and roared over the cleanup site in a vicious frenzy. They were like angry, purple hornets.
      "Crap, we need to get the civilian workers evacuated immediately. Once that cleanup site gets hot they're toast. Forget the gold alien, we shot him, he's dead." York said to Browning and Peterson. The banshee that had been attacking the three marines turned and flew towards the site of cranes, garbage-crafts, POWs, and humans. The three marines sprinted around the wrecked shack, allowing Wkehu 'Drrana enough time to escape.