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Battle for the Norah: Part Ten
Posted By: Sterfrye36<Sterfrye36@yahoo.com>
Date: 21 November 2003, 2:53 AM

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*Author's Note: Sorry abuot it being so short. I'm leaving my comp for Thanksgiving, and I wanted to get this out before I left.*

      All First Sergeant Avery Johnson felt was somebody yelling in his ear from only a few feet away. His head was throbbing and all he wanted was for it to stop. It had been hurting ever since he had gotten away from the Covenant in that Ghost...

      With the memory, adrenaline shot through his system and he sat bolt upright. The sudden light nearly blinded him, but he blinked a few times and the sensation passed. He saw the butt of his Assault Rifle out of the corner of his eye and he reached for it. However, he realized that the barrel was under the body of a sprawled out Elite that he had been playing tug-of-war with. Johnson recoiled and nearly fell through the hole that Cunningham and the Marines had blown open earlier. He cursed heavily and caught the lip. Unfortunately, his feet caught an Ensign on the head, and the Ensign was knocked down the rope several feet. Avery hauled himself back over the lip and caught his breath.
He then noticed his surroundings

      Wha-!? I'm on the T and R?! He quickly realized that he had not been in this room before. He leaned back over and looked through the hole. His eyes met with several staring faces of both Human and Covenant origin. He stared back a few seconds, then reached over and shoved the Elite off of his rifle. (None too gently) It barely stirred; it was still knocked out.

      He then realized that treating the Elite badly wasn't the smartest idea. It was the best idea he had ever had. That was the reason he brought his combat boot down on the Elite's groin. The Elite's eyes blew open and gurgling sounds emitted from its throat. Johnson repeatedly dropkicked the Elite, and each time it moved a good six feet. The final kick lifted off of the floor and threw it into the wall. The shields didn't flash, so they must have been turned off. The Elite squeaked something out and a shimmer wrapped itself around the armor. Sarge realized what was happening, cycled the bolt on his rifle, and uttered a one word sentence: "Dance!" The forthcoming staccato burst from his MA5B ripped up pieces of the floor and the Elite yelped. It tried to run away, but only succeeded in limping. "How'd that feel?" Johnson chuckled, turned around, climbed down through the hole, and went hand under hand down the cord. He reached the deck quickly.

      He turned and spoke to Cunningham." Sir, Sergeant Avery Johnson reporting."
Cunningham nodded. He was about to say something when the door that lead out aft of the engineering room opened with a crash. Five combat forms were framed in the doorway.
      Cunningham cursed, turned, hooked himself back onto the ascender and dropped to the bottom deck. Cunningham pulled the slide back and braced the 8-guage against his shoulder. Two of the forms sprinted towards him, one of them jumped like it had springs attached to its feet and the remaining two hung back.
      The Lt. Commander aligned the shotgun's barrel with the leaping form and fired. The shot was perfect. The torso landed right at Cunningham's feet, all without major limbs. He swung his upper body to the right and centered the sight on another one of the combat forms. Its leg disappeared as the M90 roared. Then its arm as the M90 coughed again. The form fell and slammed to the deck.
      He turned to take care of the third form, but Sergeant Johnson had come down the rope, and with the yell, "Eat this!" his assault rifle let out a high pitched screamed. The combat form jerked as the wall of lead slammed into it. It seemed to twitch, wilt and fly apart.
      There was a WHOOSH! and a contrail flew from the second deck. The Jackhammer rocket slammed into the floor in front of the final two forms at the door, and they disappeared in a ball of fire.
      Up on the second deck, a Private with a Jackhammer named Colin Thompson offered a friendly wave to him.This is getting monotonous, the commander thought. He turned to hook himself back onto the ascender, and was surprised to see Kall 'Kanamee, Fuel Rod Gun and all, was already at the bottom deck.

      "So," he said. "Ready to take back the Norah?
      "More than ready. Where to?"
      "I'm no groundpounder. I'm not much of a hand to hand fighter, either. What does your intelligence construct suggest? She has control over the cameras, does she not?"
      "Well, Sami? What compartment should we take first?"
      "Well," she began. "I'd suggest starting out with the Security Center. Go through a passage directly fore of your current position.
      Cunningham turned a saw a solid wall. "Um...I'm sorry, but I don't see-"
      There was a sighing sound from Sami "It's directly in front of you. Get your men positioned about five ten meters on either side of this," she said, and a nav marker appeared on Cunningham's HUD.
      "All right then," he said. "Time to get jiggy wit it."
      'Kanamee gave him a strange look.

      Cunningham had divided his forces between his three Sergeants; Andrew Barnes, Jacob Strom and Avery Johnson. One squad, Strom's, was a man short thanks to the Corporal's earlier death. However, one less Marine wouldn't make much difference. They, along with the Covies, had surrounded the door, and every weapon was pointed towards it. Strom reached up, and almost imperceptibly pressed the open button.

      Nobody saw what was in the hallway, because it was bathed in fire a millisecond afterward. The noise was deafening. They could hear popping noises and explosions. They had hit something, but nobody would know what was in there.

      The forces wound their way down the hallway and reached the Security Center.