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Present Darkness, Chapter Three: Part I
Posted By: russ687<russ687@hotmail.com>
Date: 2 December 2004, 7:17 AM
Read/Post Comments
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Chapter Two
Revealed
0630 hours, November 21, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Carrier Stanton Bay
In orbit above Planet Red Dawn (Codename), Theta 1440+90 System
Lt. Col. Nodern stared at the digital photographs, trying to devise a plan that allowed them to take advantage of the situation. It was evident that this "new" enemy, an unknown force that found both his Marines and the Covenant as a threat, was for the most part keeping his own forces free of harassment from the Covenant. The Battalion CO knew that this was, in part, making up for their disastrous losses at every drop zone, but he needed to exploit this even more.
Foster stood silently at the other end of the table, watching his Commanding Officer think about their current situation. Both officers had agreed that this new enemy was turning out to be more of a help then nuisance, but the simple daunting fact remained: what were they?
So far, no ODSTs, at least those with communication, were able to relay any information whatsoever about this enemy that was keeping the Covenant occupied while they searched for those supply caches. This left everyone in the GFCIC in wonder about what was going on down there. Was it a new alien species? Or a Covenant sect rebellion? The possibilities were nearly endless, and the curiosity to figure it out seemed more important then completing their original mission.
Four more hours, maximum, was the current allotted time before the entire UNSC fleet around Red Dawn would be ordered to leave the system. With word leaking through that the UNSC was in a terrible situation as a whole, no Admiral of any fleet was willing to subject his forces to a potential slaughter by the Covenant. That, in short, left Foster and his Battalion, along with the others on the surface, to double-time it to their objectives and destroy them.
Foster sighed softly and picked up his mug of coffee, taking a deep swig that sent coffee down his throat; coffee that was too hot, burning his taste-buds to a dissatisfying pain. The coffee wasn't even good....
"There's a transmission over the net," the chief communications officer said, grabbing both Foster's and Nodern's attention. "It's on the standard LRISC band."
Nodern nodded for the comm. officer to patch it through; it's not like they were being flooded with reports from their troops on the ground.
"...We are about seven clicks north of Drop Zone Mike X-Ray, and are about one click east of the Pelican crash site. We are requesting an update by any available forces on the current mission situation."
The Battalion CO looked over at Foster. "What happened to those Marines at Drop Zone Mike X-Ray?" The Lieutenant Colonel apparently did not forget about that specific transmission from the same Marines over an hour ago.
Foster quickly accessed the communication history for the LRISC-band of the last half-hour from an open computer console. He scrolled down through the transmissions they had received a located the ones of interest.
"Last radio contact with them was about thirty mikes ago, when they were at the Drop Zone." Foster said, still looking at the screen. "A Pelican, Victor 314, reported locating survivors, performed a hot-extraction from the Zone, then shortly thereafter put out a mayday. The FAC reported receiving an Emergency Locating Transponder from Victor 314 about six clicks north of the Drop Zone, but FAC reported not enough resources for a SAR mission. No communication from the Pelican or any occupants have occurred until now."
Nodern nodded, then looked at the comm. officer. "Bypass the FAC and go direct with these guys, and give me their situation report."
The comm. officer nodded. "Papa Tango Two, this is Bravo Command, give me your SITREP."
There was a minute of silence before the reply came, slightly distorted with static. "Bravo Command, we are one click east of our Pelican's crash-site, and consist of one Pelican crew survivor, four ODSTs including myself, and two Force Recon snipers we were able to link up with. We are currently not engaged, but the presence of multiple enemies is known around us..." the communication continued, but only speaking in the background could be heard. The voice came back in a quieter tone. "Bravo Command, we are currently surrounded by an unknown hostile force, we must discontinue communication."
Nodern walked over a grabbed the microphone. "Say again, Papa Tango Two, what kind of hostile forces are you encountering?"
There was broken silence, then the transmission came on mid-sentence. "...Encountering non-Covenant hostiles, I repeat, they are not normal Covenant forces..." Several shots were fired. Foster looked at his CO, who stared back; was this that enemy?
"...Westfield, cover the north flank!" Thunderous machinegun fire resounded for several seconds. "Bravo Command, we are engaged with hostiles, will resume transmission when able." The line went dead.
Nodern set the microphone back down. The concern was obvious on his face, and Foster shared the same feeling. Maybe these new hostilities weren't turning out to be an aid after all; maybe they were a real threat, not only to their mission, but to the Marines fighting on the surface as well.
What was next?
0635 hours, November 21, 2552 (Military Calendar)
7 Kilometers North of Drop Zone Mike X-Ray
Planet Red Dawn (Codename), Theta 1440+90 System
"Cease fire!"
The sporadic muzzle flashes from the group of Marines came to a stop. Lynn looked around at their situation and didn't notice any movement; they had gotten them all. Those rogue Jackals turned out to be faster then any of them could have thought, darting from cover to cover, then lunging out into the air after getting close enough. Jackals were notorious for their senses, not for their physical ability, so in his reasoning, these were not just "rogue" Jackals that were breaking off from the Covenant. There was something different about them; for the split second, which really seemed like hours, where he looked at the creature eye to eye, he noticed the difference. While physically the creatures did not seem much different, something in their eyes gave away a secret.
A secret he was going to find out.
"Status?" Lynn called out, looking at all the Marines still scanning the area.
"Johnson."
"Westfield."
"Wilson."
A little late, the gunner caught on. "Delyn."
Lynn waited for a few seconds, then looked over at the two snipers. "Are you two injured or unable to respond?"
Keeton spoke up for the both of them. "No."
"Then how about you respond with the rest of us next time," Lynn said, more harshly then he meant to. This was something he could not help; months of training and operating in an urban environment demanded him to constantly check on the status of his team.
He remembered fighting on Zandra Omega, the second inner colony to be attacked by the Covenant. Evacuation was their primary goal, which meant being sent into the cities to retrieve all civilians who had survived the initial wave of the Covenant. The atrocities he witnessed there was something he would never forget or never speak of again, forever a dark, silent memory. However, despair and death was not the only thing he brought away with him from Zandra Omega, he had also learned the importance of keeping his team united and moving, and calling checks of each individual soldier after a fight fell directly under that.
Normally, he would have offered an explanation to the snipers and the Pelican gunner, but the situation didn't allow for it. These were trained, professional soldiers who, if they really had any bearing of mind, would understand his point without argument. In his three years of enlistment, he had done the very same thing: catch on without question. He learned that first in Basic Training, where questions were reserved until after you had accomplished the task, and then later on the streets of Zandra Omega, where one wrong step would put you in the line of a snipers fire.
The group brought their rifles to bear again as that high-pitched whaling noise echoed through the forest again. How many of these things were there? By his own count, they had killed at least twelve, and not easily either. While one or two shots usually did it, they were fast, and reacting to their sporadic movements was not easy.
"We've got to get moving." Wilson said, not taking his eyes from the BR55's scope, scanning the slope above them.
Lynn nodded; they could not stay in one spot long. He looked down the slope, towards the sound of the river. It seemed like a better choice then moving up the hill towards the sound of the wailing.
"We'll head out down the slope, towards the river, then find our location again," Lynn said. The other Marines nodded in agreement. "Lets move..."
"Wait," Corporal Tanner spoke up, looking through his sniper rifle's long scope. "There's something up the hill."
Lynn, along with the rest, looked up the slope in the direction of the high-pitched screaming. He couldn't see anything; it looked just like the slope moving up until the vegetation stopped his line of sight.
Lynn looked into his scope. "What do you see?"
"It's a structure of some type, two-hundred-twenty meters."
Lynn let his rifle drop. A structure? It was ironically in the same direction of the wailing; was this the source of those Jackals? He contemplated the situation. Moving away from this supposed structure would put more distance between them and whatever hostiles may be up there, but going to investigate it would answer the questions that every member of his group had. He began rationalizing; was moving away really any better?
Putting his team at unnecessary risk was not on his agenda list, but finding the answer to this creature was. He sighed. Squad leadership was not diplomatic, meaning that the Squad Leader made the final call without question, but he knew that theory did not always apply. Sometimes simple feedback could make the right decision for you.
"Well, what do you think? Go to it, or away?"
The Marines looked over at him, all of them thinking about the situation they were in. Lynn knew that personal safety came first naturally for every human, and that would lead to them taking the route down the slope, but there was another large human factor that came into play that no one could deny. Curiosity.
"Let's check it out," Johnson said.
Wilson and Westfield nodded in agreement. Delyn followed suit a little reluctantly, and the two snipers gave slight nods. The poll was in.
"Wilson, take point."
The smell of flesh was strong as the Marines neared the top of the slope. Ahead of them was now clearly the structure that Tanner had spotted earlier, and it was in seemingly pristine condition. The dull gray walls were devoid of vegetation, and the structural look to it felt complex and modern. The structure was rectangular in shape, with a triangular object rising from its top; no doubt some sort of communication device.
Lynn kept his rifle shouldered as he stepped over the rocky ground and up onto the top of the hill. Around the structure, there were no bushes or trees, only bare rocky dirt. The closer he got to the building, the stronger the smell was; it was the unmistakable smell of death. The source of the smell became visible as he rounded the corner: dead Covenant.
"What the hell...?" Wilson said quietly, drifting off.
Ahead of the ODSTs were several corpses of Grunts and a few Elites. The bodies looked rather recent, indicating their death was not long ago. The Covenant lay in their own pools of dried blood at the entrance to this structure, weapons still in their hands.
Keeton and Tanner, followed by Delyn, came up silently from around the other side, and looked at the sight before them. The snipers remained emotionless, and Delyn looked mildly disgusted, keeping his M6C up and at the ready.
"Not a good sign," Keeton said. "We're the only Marines in the vicinity."
Lynn nodded, keeping his BR55 trained at the entrance to the structure, which was nothing more then a door; a door with a sizeable hole, with the breaking threads facing outwards. Whatever caused this hole came from inside the structure.
Something had escaped.
He walked cautiously up to the group of deceased Covenant and tried to look into the hole, but it was pitch-black on the other side. He looked down at the bodies; they all had thrashing cuts across them, with dried blood marks running from them. He theorized the situation: the Jackals had sharp beak-like mouths, but other then that, they didn't really have anything to cause these type of scars. And, as he recalled, each Jackal they had encountered so far was weaponless. There was more to come?
75 Minutes Earlier
Derarnee' ran up the dark tunnel towards the light ahead. The Red Elite clenched its grip on his Plasma Rifle as the screeching wails echoed out from behind him. His mind was racing with the events of the last few moments, and one thing could be said for sure.
They, the filth of this planet, needed to be stopped.
He was the last one running up the nearly pitch-black tunnel. Ahead of him were several of his comrade Elites, in a full sprint to make it to the surface door twenty-meters ahead in time to seal it shut. He had three other Elites survive the initial outbreak under the surface, along with several Grunts who began running for the surface exit almost immediately after the breach. Most of his team had died in surprise at the outbreak, and the few survivors were now making their way without delay towards the surface, where the lock-down door could stop this outburst. Things had changed for the worse fast enough that he was not able get back in control of the situation.
Derarnee' jumped and landed in a roll into the early morning light and quickly looked behind him. The small, pathetic Grunts that had begun running for the surface before he even ordered them to were all shakily waiting outside, their weapons trained loosely on the door. Fools, they are of no use to me. He was sure the same thoughts ran in the minds of his comrades who stood facing the open entrance door.
"Get the door sealed!" He growled to a cowering Grunt nearest to the doors closing mechanism.
The Grunt didn't even respond, it just stood their shakily.
Derarnee' moved quickly for the mechanism and slammed his fist into it, causing an emergency closing of the thick, armored doors. They began sliding shut, much too slowly, as the eerie wailing began seeping up through the dark tunnel behind it. The Elites and cowering Grunts waited silently as the double doors met in the middle with a satisfying thud.
He turned to his second-in-command, another Red Elite, who stood still, his weapon still trained on the door. "Contact the Field Commander, let him know we have a breach at entrance zero-four..."
The thumping nose attracted his attention away. Derarnee' looked at the thick blast doors that had just sealed close, and began walking towards it. There it was again. Another deep banging noise resounded from behind the thick door. It was them; the unclean that had turned from his superiors' seemingly ingenious plan to their worse nightmare.
Derarnee' took a step back from the door as a sizeable portion flexed outward, the thick metal bending from the massive force exerted on it by the threat on the other side. No creature he knew of could exert such incredible force, enough to begin bending such a thickness of door. The doors flexed out again, and the breaking was noticeable.
Then again, he had never seen what the unclean were capable of.
The portion of door flexed outward again, and a large black fist of the filth broke through, a deep growling noise being emitted from the newly formed hole. Another hit from the creature on the inside made the hole bigger.
Derarnee' dropped his Plasma Rifle and brought out his inactivated energy-sword. He turned and faced the fearful Grunts and his commendable Elites. "We shall stand and fight, and hold our ground against the unclean. By our hands shall these creatures see death."
The Red Elite turned back to the door and saw the hole grow yet again. Such filth should never have seen the light of day in the first place; he was determined to make sure they never lived under it.
The energy-sword activated.
Lynn looked up from the bloody body of a Red Elite he was standing over, then back at the hole in the door. The situation was evident enough for him; these creatures had escaped, and they were standing at the initial breach point. Did they dare go in? What lay beyond this door?
The questions of their current circumstances was more then he wanted to handle. Part of him longed for the simplicity of things prior to landing on this planet; they had a straight forward mission, with a straight forward foe, with a clean and smooth extraction plan. He had enough experience to know nothing ever went as planned, but for things to be off by this much was beyond the odds. Loosing nearly every member in his Platoon, extracting from the Drop Zone and crashing, then finding out there's a new enemy hostile to both them and the Covenant...had this planet gone to hell?
He didn't believe in coincidences, every action and reaction was there for a reason. For him to go as far as believing in fate was not something he could rationalize prior to coming to Red Dawn, but after seeing all this fall into play, it didn't seem that far off anymore.
His parents were devote Catholics, and through his childhood he attended church respectfully along with his family. He believed in God, he believed in destiny, he believed what he had learned as a boy. After leaving for the Marine Corps, though, those beliefs slowly died as his priorities shifted to his duties. He had come across many chances to turn back to his beliefs, he had met many people along the way that pointed him in that direction, but it never really seemed to come back. Being only twenty-three, it still seemed as if his life was ahead of him, that there was much more to it then simply what he had experienced over the years. However, it seemed now that his prior beliefs were not entirely fake imaginations he had viewed them as.
How much had he been through and survived? Too much to remember; too much he wanted to remember. Was there a higher purpose on this planet? Something he was meant to see or needed to do? The questions always came back to the same source, back to whether or not he truly believed in fate, or in destiny.
Or in God.
Lynn looked at the men standing around him. They had not made it this far to turn back, to turn their eyes away from this mystery that lay beyond this broken door. Whether or not they had their own beliefs or wished themselves to be their own "god," he knew where he stood, and knew that he needed to enter this door.
He smirked at the irony: passing through a door. That old phrase seemed to occur in his life many times, except this time, it took both a physical and psychological meaning.
"Anyone want to stay on the surface?" Was this question rhetorical?
All were silent except for Delyn, who spoke up in the awkward silence. "We're going in there?"
Lynn nodded. "Either you come, or you stay out here."
The group seemed to express no emotion, but he could tell they were all contemplating the situation. By the looks on each of their faces, he knew all were going down with him. Each would have their own reason, but nonetheless their choice was the same.
They we going to see what secrets this planet held.
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