Well Enough Alone Part IV: Blind Dispersions
Posted By: Ryan<email@example.com>
Date: 11 April 2002, 8:33 pm
Command shuttle G-765: Un-colonized planet named Polti, just outside of earth's solar system.
18:12, standard time
The wind tossed the commanders hair gently as he peered through the gaping hole that was a shuttle bay. His skin, scared from battle and leathered from the searing heat of plasma blasts, was rubbed by the gentle breeze from 2100 feet as if it were a silk cloth. His hands were crossed intently behind his back, as he gazed into the blue nothingness that lay vastly before him. A young ensign walked up behind the commander, with a stern, solemn look on his face. The commander took no surprise in the ensign's approach; he had been listening quietly to the rustle of the trees far below.
"Commander, sir... I have news," spoke the ensign slowly, "The captain asked me to deli-"
"Skip to the point, son." Said the commander in a irritable tone of voice.
"Uh, yes, of course sir. I've received word that dropship Janni 689 has dropped out of contact, no distress signal has been sent. The last transmission from the dropship indicates that Wade was picking up some troops... sir..."
The commander let out a quick sigh, and circled around to face his young comrade. The look in the commanders eyes was that of pure disappointment; betrayal.
So it's final. I was right about Raul... god damnit, politics should have been abolished long before this war started - I wonder who's agenda he's fofilling now...
The ensign stepped back as the commander began to walk at a stern pace towards the shuttle bay entrance. Just before the commander stepped through the now-open doorway, the ensign shouted out a question.
The commander halted and pivoted to face the ensign, who was easily 100 meters from him.
"Any orders, sir?"
"Just one... I want immediate transport to UNSC head-quarters. So, ready a transport."
"But sir -"
"No buts, son. Just get it ready - I don't care if YOU have to fly it."
"Understood, commander. Just give me 15 -"
"Uh, alright sir. Ten.
UNSC head-quarters: 50 km south of Los Angeles, California.
As the commander walked into the commander center, he was enveloped in swelling red lights. The screeching drone of alarms shot through his ear drums like knives. Officers were everywhere, darting back and forth from various consoles scattered across the room. In the middle of the mess was Admiral Ryes, a middle-aged female with deceivingly hard eyes. The commander made his way to the admiral, poking her on the shoulder. She jolted around, now face-to-face with the commander.
"Ryes." Spoke the commander, letting off a small hint of a smile. The Admiral smiled back, but her smile quickly drifted into a look of importance.
"This better not be a social call, James."
The admiral didn't offer James a chance to reply, rather she turned her attention to General Nacri who was running towards her, shouting her name. James, too, glanced over at the strange-looking General, curious still why there was such commotion around this usually docile building.
"Admiral Ryes, I'm receiving reports that two other intercept craft have been disabled. They're moving closer, ma'am!" Yelled the frantic Nacri.
"Clearly... get back to your post, general. I can see that from here." Snapped Ryes in reply.
Frustration had over-come James, who began to breathe deeper, waiting for a chance to jump in with a question. Finally, while Ryes was flipping through battle reports, he received the chance he had been waiting for.
"Debra, would you mind telling me just what the hell is going on here!?"
"Obviously you can't see I'm busy, but I am glad you showed up. I'm getting conflicting reports of multiple covenant battle groups closing in on earth. Most likely with 20 imperial class cruisers per group. Now, excuse me if my hair doesn't look quite right, OK?"
"Shit... you must be kidding!
"I don't kid, you know that. Our Navy won't be able to hold them off for long, Commander. This is incredibly bad news."
"I can see that... how long could we keep them busy, at best?"
"20 minutes, give or take a few seconds."
"That's just not good enough.... Wait a minute - assuming each one of those cruisers is home to some ten thousand covenant, how long could our military force hold them off?!"
"With the use of strategy... 16 hours. We could probably disable 20% of their entire infantry during that time; until our troops simply run out."
"That settles it, then. We need to enact the Polvan protocol. Order all eligible members of earth's civilian population to suit up. We have a job to do, lets get it done."
"A militia? Honestly..."
"We have enough arms, don't we?"
"Well, yes... but even I'm not authorized to present such orders to anyone. That's an order that has to be made by the civilian's tribunal - at least until the covenant land. Once they touch down, any admiral can enact that protocol. Oh, by the way... what happened to your regiment? Who's in charge?"
"I've left the captain of CS:G:765 in charge for now. Since Gregory died things have been..."
"I see. And the Master Chief?"
"John is on assignment."
"Oh... and when will he be back?"
"He won't. Listen to me, we need to talk somewhere more private."
"Yes... I agree. My office - follow me."
"Certainly, lead the way!"
Somewhere on Polti.
John dashed through the swamp, his boots uprooting lichen, roots, leaves, and dirt from the ground as he ran. Though his speed was brisk, he made little noise as he darted past trees, ground roots, and even small animals. His flashlight wasn't on - he would save that for later - right now he needed to find a ride. Multiple dropships were shot-down... but no Banshee's were involved in the strikes. There must be hundreds of covenant here; and a Banshee. I'll have to be quick if I want to avoid being shot-down like the Pelicans, but I'm sure I can get around the covenant ground troops. Now it's just a mater of finding their base.
Up ahead was a large clearing, possibly Janni's landing zone. The Master Chief continued towards the opening in the heavy greenery, but beyond the tree's was hardly a crashed dropship - it was a crashed covenant ship! The master chief's mind began to race, a covenant ship ment more than he could imagine. For one thing, weaponry - and hordes of it. Not to mention maps, critical information, and possibly aircraft. The ship was small, too. Most likely a stealth ship of some kind. The guards were the only problem, there were easily 40 covenant patrolling the ships entrances. A distraction was necessary, but what? Grenades - even the plasma variety - were far too risky. He would need something smarter, more original. Then it hit him - his assault rifle!
He moved along the tree-line with amazing caution; trying his best to prevent the covenant from picking up on his movements. Once he had moved a few hundred meters from his former position, the master chief kneeled down and placed his assault rifle on the branch of a tree, leaving it facing a small group of covenant guarding yet another entrance. He wrapped a vine around the trigger, and attached one end of the organic rope to a tree branch opposite the gun. He then used another vine to attach the gun firmly to the tree branch it was on, strengthening the knot until the vine buckled under the pressure. It had begun raining hard just a few minutes before, and there was a small gap in the canopy directly above the vine which was attached to his assault rifle's trigger. He looked up, there was a plant with a large, broad leaf directly above him. He leaped up, ripping off one of the leaves at it's stem. The leaf was sunken, almost like a bowl. It was more than perfect. Carefully he balanced the leaf on the trigger vine, with the bowl facing up into the gap in the canopy. Quickly the bowl began to fill up with water - and soon the pressure would be too much on the trigger, and the gun would fire off a few rounds into the patch of covenant far beyond. The set-up was complete, and the master chief jetted back to the opening where he originated.
He knelled at the opening in the thick trees for a moment, waiting patiently for his loud cue. After only 5 seconds the assault rifle went off, firing about 5 rounds before the leaf bounced off the rope; causing the vine to sag and the trigger to repress. He head the screams of covenant far beyond - maybe one of the grunts had been hit - and then it happened. 5 of the 8 covenant guarding his entrance ran over to assist the bewildered group of covenant which had been hit, leaving only an elite, jackal, and a grunt to guard the door. Now was his only shot, so John took to his feet and leaped through the opening; sprinting towards the poorly-guarded door. Thoughts raced through his mind once more, this would have to be done without anyone firing a weapon. His shotgun was still magnetically hooked to his back, and his pistol still at his side. In less than 3 seconds he would hit the elite hard - and he would be inside the downed covenant cruiser.
The elite turned his head, and a look of horror crossed his face as a massive black and green fist smashed in his skull. Feeling no pain, the elite flew through the air; blood and his body crashing into the purple metallic hull of the ship with a loud, wet thud. The grunt jumped up, and moved his arm towards his gun (which was still at his feet). The jackal had turned his head less than a second after the elite's body was hit - the jackal was elbowed in the face before he could let out even a yelp. The jackal fell over dead, and the master chief quickly turned his attention to the grunt, who was biting his lip and tossing the gun in the air, trying to get a grip of the trigger. John lunged forward, kneeing the small dog-like grunt in the face, smashing in his small skull. Satisfied with the elimination of the guards, he turned his head to glance at the group scouring the tree-line for the mystery marine. Just as the doors slid open, letting out a evil hiss, one of the elite's reached up with an assault rifle. The master chief pivoted and dashed through the doors, punching the control panel on the left side, causing them to slam shut and lock all at once. He was now inside - and from the time the rigged assault rifle fired to the time he had slammed the door only 9 seconds had passed.
He creeped through purple and pink hallways, one identical corridor after another. He figured that the ships control room must be located closer to the nose of the ship; though he had no clue which direction that was from his current position. Annoyed with the covenant architecture, he decided to continue along his winded path until he arrived somewhere. This ship wasn't very big, and unless he was going in circles (which he figured was quite likely) he would have to end up somewhere after a short time. Finally he arrived a cramped shuttle bay. Inside were three banshees, two covenant dropships, and a strange V-shaped ship that caught the master chief's eye. He had never seen a ship like this before, but was fascinated by it. It was slightly larger than a pelican, and shaped almost like a Longsword. It must have been the covenant's equivalent to the human longswords. He started across the shuttle bay platforms, and leaped down to the ground level. Still no covenant to be seen, all of the hallways had been completely empty. He knew there would have to be a guard here - and sure enough there was. Standing in the center of the room, just before the 'V-wing', was a elite commander; plasma sword glowing in his left hand.
Shit! Thought the master chief. This elite would require his shotgun to dispose of, he couldn't risk getting close enough to try and bop the elite from behind, and a punch to the face wouldn't be powerful enough to drop this golden varieties sheilds. John swiftly removed the shotgun from his back , and creeped towards the sword-wielding bastard. He needed to get a perfect shot, or it wouldn't work. The shotgun was only good at close range, and the elite was still 40 feet from him. The master chief didn't want to be close enough to fire two rounds; he would be chopped in two before the second shell left the barrel. He tossed the shotgun over into his right hand, and with his left hand he grasped the pistol at his side. He leaned out, and fired three pistol rounds as he ran backwards. After those three rounds, the elite was simply too close to take out with a pistol; so he tossed it at his feet and slid his finger over the shotgun's trigger. A massive bang echoed through the shuttle bay, and the elite's sheilds flickered brilliantly, before dying. That hadn't stopped the elite, though; he was still on a crash course with John. The shotgun wouldn't fire again for a second, so with no time to spare John dropped the shotgun, and rolled to the side; grasping the pistol in his left hand as he did so. The elite's devastating chop missed John by mere inches, the incredible heat from the blade caused minor damage to his sheilds. The elite's head pivoted, until he was looking straight down the barrel of the M6D. Without even the slightest bit of hesitation, the master chief fired - sending a bullet directly through the elite's mouth up into his brain - spewing blood everywhere. As the elite fell to the floor, John grabbed his shotgun and strapped it to his back once more.
Alerted now by the shotgun's blast, a door to the master chief's left slid open, revealing 5 special-ops elite's who immediately began firing blasts of plasma at the master chief as they leaped down towards him. He had no time to waste - so John dashed at top speed towards the apparent hatch of the covenant 'V-wing'. He leaped through into the cover of the cockpit, just as his sheilds ran out of power. He slammed his fist into a small button just beside the hatch, causing it to slide shut. A second later a bulk-head above him began to slide shut - so the master chief leaped through the closing doors, and found himself inside the cockpit. One small captain's chair was just before him, and he could tell this craft had been designed for an elite to pilot. Quickly he leaned forwards, past the chair, and tapped a small, glowing, purple button. He felt the craft rumble as it's engines burst to life. At a rapid pace John slid into the seat, and began pressing buttons. He placed his hands upon two holographic rods which protruded from the main console. The craft began to rattle as plasma bolts impacted the hull at a devastating pace. He leaned forward on one of the rods, and the craft jolted forward - screaming from the shuttle bay's open doors and into the clearing. He was moving too fast, the tree line was directly in front of him! Stunned at the craft's speed, the master chief pulled back on the opposite rod, causing it to veer upwards and scream into the night sky.
Through the holographic view-screen, he saw millions of flickering stars laid before him. Moment later, he had left Polti's atmosphere and adjusted his course towards earth. ETA: 2 hours. A smile crossed his face, but was soon replaced with a look of complete horror. A blinding flash was seen in the sky, one which would have been invisible to the average human's naked eye.
A reactor went critical... a human cruiser just exploded...