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The Road to Combat Zone 4
Posted By: The Scribe<nero@cinci.rr.com>
Date: 2 July 2003, 6:02 AM
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*Note: Read Battle of Berlin Colony, Attack on Central Command, Defeat at Central Command, Destination: Marakesh to catch up on this series. Sorry, I guess I should number the parts instead next time. Oh, well, this won't be my only series. Thanks for reading, and enjoy.
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Tuka Hanamee, in his new and recently polished gold armor led his squad to the top of a large hill on the east edge of the outpost area. He lifted his vision enlarger to his eyes and zoomed in on the small building.
A strike force member, Ruka Tanamee crawled up along side Hanamee.
"Shall we attack?" he asked.
Hanamee looked over at him.
"There are too many humans around. Even for us. We will wait until the green one is alone and away from this place fighting other covenant soldiers. Then we will attack him and squash him like the pest he is."
The Master Chief walked from the small transport that he had originally ridden to the Ion, the large ship that brought him to Marakesh. After the Captain had been shot dead, Cortana had piloted the ship close enough to the planet so the transport's trip wouldn't be a long one.
"Good luck, sir!" the pilot shouted back before closing the compartment doors.
"I'm going to need it," the Chief muttered.
The transport lifted off and blasted at a vertical climb back into space.
Marakesh, named after the capital of Morocco, was a lot like it. It was a desert planet with almost no water in sight. Dust freely lifted from the ground like steam. Soft little clack clacks could be heard as sand particles hit the Spartan's visor.
Ahead, stood the small fort-like building of Marakesh outpost Phoenix 14. The Chief began running towards it, eager to get there.
He arrived and walked through a set of automatic doors.
"Hello, sir," a British marine greeted at the guard booth.
"I'm here for the briefing of Operation Spear Head," the Master Chief said.
The marine switched a button on a switchboard and spoke.
"Lieutenant Phelps, the Master Chief is here to see you, sir."
The Chief scanned the room. A few shelves lined the lobby full of awards and trophies. One shelf contained a full set of gold Elite battle armor.
"You can have a seat, Master Chief," the marine said.
"That's okay, I'll stand."
The sound of another set of automatic doors echoed throughout the high-ceilinged room.
Lieutenant Phelps strode in briskly and walked over to the Spartan.
"Good afternoon, Chief," he said. "You can follow me."
Phelps and the Master Chief made their way into what seemed to a footage-viewing room. It was dark and in the center sat a three foot tall pillar. Phelps walked over to the pillar and pressed a button.
"Load Operation Spear Head file," he spoke firmly and clearly.
A spout of light sprouted from the pillar to form a series of 3D rooms and environments.
"Okay, Master Chief, listen up," the Lieutenant said. "You are to take a group of Special Forces to Combat Zone 4. An excessive amount of covenant forces are fighting the local battalion of marines. Your job is to take the designated route."
A dotted line formed over a holographic map until it reached Combat Zone 4.
The Lieutenant continued.
"This route has carefully been surveyed by scouts and has been found that it is the most Covenant free area at this time. Although we can't guarantee that you won't run into hostiles, you needn't worry. You'll have some of the UNSC's best with you."
The Chief somehow didn't feel that he should get his hopes up as far as the UNSC's best went. They were probably just a couple of good soldiers who just killed an above average amount of covenant or maybe had just seen more combat.
After finishing up his briefing, the Chief got to meet his soldiers. After all the "hello"s and "how the hell are ya'"s were done, it was time to set out. A total of twenty soldiers were following the Spartan when he left the outpost, on his way.
Hanamee, seeing this, slammed the bottom of his fist into the dirt.
"May it all be damned to the underworld!" he fumed. "He has troops with him! May the gods damn him! Damn it all!"
The other Elites sat quietly, not even daring to make their commander any angrier.
It was when one Elite almost said something to Hanamee, that the whole group shushed him.
"Commander Hanamee has been known to shoot fellow troops," another whispered to him. "The smart thing to do would be to wait until he calms himself."
"We will follow them," Hanamee said. "We will stay parallel to their route. This mountain range will hide us from their sight. Every few units or so, one of us will poke his head up and over the edge to see if their course has changed."
The squad of Elites silently formed a line. All of the strike force members were in front and the veterans were in back.
Trudging through the deep and windy sand storm was a big fat bitch, Corporal William Hanks decided after three hours of walking.
"Master Chief," he radioed.
"Yes, Corporal?" the Chief's response sounded.
"Why don't we have any vehicular transport to this place?"
"Oh, the UNSC figured that wind conditions were to bad for a Pelican and that the Covenant would easily know we were coming if we brought a tank or something in, so here we are, walking through hell."
Hanks had to laugh at the Spartan's response, but the laughter was soon chased away by the present situation. They still had about an hour of walking and then they would reach their destination. However, the Covenant run-ins seemed to be getting larger in number, the closer they got to Combat Zone 4.
Suddenly, the Chief made a downward motion with his hand. All of the marines, in both lines dropped to the ground.
A veteran Elite rushed over to the range's edge and peeked over the side.
"Hanamee, the humans are about to fight another one of our squads," he reported.
The Master Chief radioed through every marine's helmet, "Five Jackals, six Elites, and ten Grunts. After I toss my grenade, I want you all to spread out and begin firing at anything that moves other than your fellow man."
Hanks watched as a small speck flew up into the air at the front of the line.
A grenade.
The grenade stuck itself in the sand right in the middle of the group of Elites. It detonated with a whump. One Elite came flying out of nowhere and landed face down in the sand, legless, in between the two lines of marines.
"Jesus Christ! Fire!" Hanks shouted, startled. Every troop fired on the Elite, making him a tattered, purple mess.
Two out of the six survived. Each one flanked a line.
Blue plasma bolts came sailing out of the wall of dust and hit a few men in the line on the left of the Chief. The Elites were good. They never fired from the same place, constantly strafing the lines and sporadically firing from different positions.
However the aliens were outnumbered.
The marines began firing out into the dust and after hearing the aliens' cries of defeat, turned towards the remaining Covenant.
The Chief continued to stare ahead, M6D out in front him, the butt of the gun resting on the ground. A small silhouette came into view through the dust. It continued to move forward until the Master Chief could see that it was a Strike Force Grunt, armed with a fuel rod cannon. The little bastard got a shot in.
The flaming green comet-like projectile sailed over the Chief and landed right smack dab in the middle of the line to his left. Screaming and cries of pain drifted among the furious wind as marines flew in all directions missing everything on their bodies from torsos to limbs to faces.
"So much for the UNSC's finest," the Spartan murmured as he sent a round into the Grunt's methane tank.
Bluish bubbles and froth sprouted from the hole and the five foot pest fell on his side fumbling with his mask and gasping.
The cannon's self-destruct program occurred and the weapon exploded into a ball of green flame, tossing the Grunt, on fire, out of sight and into the endless wall of dust.
The sound of utility equipment rattling could be heard as four more Grunts emerged from the grime in the air. These were regular rookies, their bronze armor blending in with the storm. One was armed with a needler while the other three carried a standard plasma pistol. A bang rang out and the Grunt with the needler collapsed, a smoking hole in his chest.
The other three opened fire on the Chief. His shields quickly dropped and the alarm in his helmet began to go off.
The Spartan decided to go fully automatic and withdrew his MA5B Assault Rifle and swept the barrel over the three. They fell dead, bright blue blood staining the sand.
The Jackals, realizing they were outnumbered, began to run away.
The Chief tossed a grenade in front of them, cutting off their escape route. Seeing this, they turned and began running the opposite direction. Just as they turned around, the Chief lobbed another frag in that route, too. The doomed Jackals were sandwiched.
The grenades went off, throwing their bodies two opposite directions. The corpses collided in mid-air and fell to the dirt, some of them entwined with one another. It was actually a pretty amusing sight as far as the Chief was concerned.
"I can no longer see them," Hanamee said. "The storm is covering their position. We will have to estimate their speed and where they are to stay parallel to them."
The band of Elites began moving forward.
After the small fight was over, the Master Chief was only left with fourteen soldiers. The fuel rod projectile had been a serious hell. There was one survivor, however. A Lieutenant Hanks.
He suffered third degree burns to the face, but he would be okay after some recovery. Luckily, no skin had melted over his eyes, so he could fight if he wished.
An hour had passed and the marines could hear heavy combat ahead, due to the end of the storm. The air was finally clear again.
"Attention, all marines," the Master Chief announced. "We are nearing Combat Zone 4. When we arrive, we will set up a front line for the marine attack force. Our objective is to take back this particular research plant."
After more walking the Chief stumbled on something. It was a marine's skeleton in full armor. The Spartan looked ahead, and almost froze with fear from what he saw. Thousands of marine skeletons lie ahead of the squad as they got closer to the combat zone, the fighting got louder and louder until plasma bolts and bullets alike could be seen flying freely in the air.
"Okay, marines!" the Master Chief alerted. "Let's move!"
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