Chapter One: Remembering
I wake up, glancing around at the soldiers around me sleeping. I look to the clock: 4:30 AM. I lean back and fall asleep. Remembering my last two battles;
"Calm before the storm Marines, enjoy it." said the Sergeant. {Boom} I was thrown from my feet, my face embedded into deep sand, my legs cut and bleeding. I look up and wipe the blood from my eyes. Many marines closer to the explosion were screaming and crying. "Aaaagh!" one yelled, his voice getting quieter and raspier until it stop, a gargling noise in his throat. I look up to see a Pelican, being whipped with missiles from Covenant Banshees. The second war of Earth was begun. The Pelican pilot tried to fly up high, his protecting Hornets were almost all downed already.
One projectile from a Banshee however struck the canopy, smashing it open, killing the Pilot inside. A fire sprang onto the wings, blazing backwards, engulfing the entire Pelican, carrying 10 ODST and a Spec Ops Marine gunner, along with a M12 equipped with a Gauss cannon. The M12 was dropped, on fire, and two bodies were flung from the back as the Pelican started to spin, like a leaf, crazily down. One of the wings snapped off of the Pelican, pummelling into the ground. The Pelican flipped, it was flung topside into the earth and sand. I winced as a ball of flames erupted from the Pelican. When I looked back up, there were two men, on fire, running toward me screaming. One died while the other was shot by a Marine, looking to end their misery. The Marine looked down at the man he had killed and shouted "Oh God I'm a murderer!"
"PRIVATE! ON YOUR FEET!" Came the powerful voice of the Sarge. "Need I repeat myself?" He said "I Said ON YOUR FEET Pri---" He choked, I looked round, he had been hit square in the forehead by a foot long Spike. I sunk, looked forward again. My gun was three feet away from me; my sidearm was still in my holster. I saw a Hornet firing missiles at a Banshee; however the banshee whirled and fired its plasma cannon into it. I gasped as two gaping holes appeared in the port* side of the Hornet. The wrecked Hornet's engine choked, and it crashed into an M12 Warthog LRV below, both exploding, a total of six men dying just from that.**
Footnotes:
*Left, if you are facing the same direction as the driver.
**Three in the warthog, three in the Hornet
I looked forward, pushed up with my hands, and lifted myself to my feet. My head was spinning, and my legs felt like jelly. I spat on the floor. Looked over to where my gun was; it was covered in sand. I walked over to it, bent down, grabbed it and put it over my back. I picked up my helmet. Placing it on, I could instantly hear radio chatter "We need some help out here!" and "Marines! Fall back; now! Go, Go, Go!"*
I looked out across the horizon and saw two ODST making a dash for the cover of the downed Pelican. One was hit in the throat by a foot long spike, blood spurting fifteen feet in front of him as he fell backward. He was spraying blood from his throat, writhing on the floor like a dying fish. His comrade looked down at him, and fell over forward. He crawled on his hands and knees and elbows trying to reach him in desperation. Flicking sand into the air as he went, stumbling but getting up, he reached his dying friend. Just as he did, however, I watched a big ball of blue and purple plasma hit them, sending a pillar of blood crashing like the sea. Even from ten feet away I was sprayed with blood.
I ran over to the Pelican, there was nothing there but a scorch mark now, no dogtags to collect, nothing. The two men would be "missing in action" or MIA. An ODST and a Marine were with me behind the Pelican soon, the ODST said to me, in a Texan accent "Private what's your name, I'm gonna run over to that there wall. You two are gonna follow me, roger?" I nodded "Yes Sir!" and he set off, dodging spikes, weaving in and out of grenades, and managed to get behind the wall.
We looked as I prepared to go, when a green belt of energy slammed into the wall, toppling it. "Guess that ideas over," I said. However just after I said that, a huge cannon, followed by an almost completely armour-encased hand made up entirely of writhing tendrils, entwined around each other, showed itself. "Hunter!" I yelled, grabbing my two Frag grenades, I placed one into the slow moving arm, between two of the Lekgolo. I took cover as an explosion forced the arm off, the Lekgolo not having time to realise what had happened. It roared, but fell over, orange blood pouring from the worm like creatures that made it up. I sighed, relieved, as did my comrade. However our relief was to be short lived; "Bond brother!" I yelled, and we took off, diving into a ditch as the beam of green plasma flew past our heads, narrowly missing me. A small grunt was in there, eating what looked like a dead Jackal. It turned around, overcharging its plasma pistol and firing, catching my friend in the stomach, hitting my rifle. I pulled my magnum up, embedding three bullets with a tight spread into its skull.
I looked over to the Marine who was hit. He was lying there breathing deeply, the bloody mass of intestines now visible, free from the bounds of skin and muscle, with the sickening aroma of charred flesh, seared, rising from him. I looked to his face, his eyes were shut and his jaw locked tight. He opened his eyes slowly, they were watering. I put my hand on his chest, grabbed his tags and ripped them free of his neck. He nodded, tried to talk. He moaned and said "There's a letter." He nodded to the pocket on his shirt, emblazoned with the UNSC Private insignia. I put my hand into it and got the letter out. "It's for my dad" he groaned, and moved one hand from his chest, pointing to my magnum. "No… I'm getting you out of here" I said. He shook his head, grabbed the handle of my magnum and tried to tug it from the holster. He shook his head again, tears welling in his eyes, one rolling down his cheek.
I opened the holster and gave him the pistol, a tear streaking down my cheek also. I looked to his name "Jake Johnson. I'll post your letter. Don't worry." He nodded, smiling weakly with the pistol in his hand. "Wait!" I said. "Don't. I'm carrying morphine. I'll do it, it'll be painless." He nodded, smiling again, he dropped the pistol. I prepared the injection, holding out his cold, pale, clammy hand and pressing the needle into his wrist. I pushed on the stopper, pumping the life-stopper into his veins. I stared at his face, cradling his head in my hands. I looked up at the burning sky, flashing with light in all its former glory. When I looked back to his eyes, he was gone. I pressed my fingers on his eyelids and slowly moved my hand down, closing them. He was at peace now.
I heard an explosion, followed by a chain of explosions getting nearer to the ditch we were in. I pocketed his letter and his dogtags, grabbed his assault rifle, holstered my pistol and stood. I looked out over the horizon, scanning. I jumped out of the ditch; the hunter seemed to have gone. I looked around, seeing the corpse of a Marine and the corpse of the ODST. I quickly ran to their bodies in turn, grabbed their dogtags and found some more cover where a Sergeant was hiding.
That was when a new enemy arrived. He announced his presence with a mighty roar and 7 spikes flew past my head. One caught the Sergeant in the shoulder. I grabbed his other arm, dragging him with me as he fell. He wasn't hurt bad, so I got him to his feet and handed him his weapon. He didn't think he could use a two handed weapon, he told me, as he ripped the 12 inch spike from his arm. I handed him my magnum, he had another with the same amount of ammo as mine, and I took his shotgun. I put it over my back and kept hold of my assault rifle. I saw the Brute just next to me, sniffing the air. It placed its spike rifle just in front of me. I rammed the barrel of the assault rifle into its elbow, held onto the forearm and synonymously pushed up with the gun and pulled down with my hand. I fired off 12 rounds in just a few seconds, tearing into the bare flesh, making the Brute scream. The arm was instantly pulled back as I brought the shotgun to my arms, aiming it at the Brute's chest, firing it twice in quick succession. I flicked a shell into it, and fired again, killing it with a large fragment embedding itself in his skull, and another in the eye. He fired 3 spikes, one slicing into my leg, the other hitting the Sergeant between the eyes. He dropped; I grabbed his dogtags and ran.
I looked around, my heart racing, I saw troop transport M12, I liked to call it the "Puma" although its official nickname was "Warthog," about to leave me behind. I ran over to it, yelling "Hey! Over here! HEY!" and they saw me. The driver yelled, "Hop in!" and I ran over to the back half of the warthog, jumping in. There was a fully loaded Battle Rifle there, so I took that and put my AR on the floor. Two Marines and one ODST got in; there was a Pilot in the driver's seat and a radio operator with a Sergeant's cap in the passenger seat. What a mess we were! I looked around, there was a Warthog equipped with a Gauss cannon, two more with the troop transport add-on, and two equipped with the standard turret, all full of a mix of Pilots, Marines, ODST, radio operators and sergeants. They were usually driven by Pilots; the gunners were mostly ODST, Radio operators and Sergeants mostly filled the passenger position. Any other spaces were filled with techies and Marines.
The drivers all started to move toward where the majority of the Brutes were situated, I shouted over the engine "I thought we were evac-ing?" My response was a quick "No!" and we drove nearer the Brute positions. The gunners on the armed Warthogs opened fire, killing many brutes. "We've got to find the Chief!" was heard through the radio, looking up into the sky with his target finder. "Target acquired!" we heard over the radio, as a huge ball of flames hurtled Earth-ward. A big group of Pelicans and a much larger group of Hornets gathered, firing missiles and machine guns into the crowds of Brutes below. Hooks were sent down, attached to the Warthogs and a few Mongoose' that had showed up. We hopped out as the vehicles were pulled upward; I secured a place onboard a Hornet, although the majority of us were onboard Pelicans. Lucky bastards. I held onto the bar handle, hooking my left arm around it, holding onto the other one with my other arm. My new battle rifle was behind my back, and the Hornet flew off. I obviously felt unsafe, but the Pilot assured me it was safe, there was a huge leather belt across my legs and waist, after all.
There were two ODST riding with me, and one Sergeant. There was also a Mongoose on a hook below. It took us several hours (at least three or four) to reach where we were headed - The Crow's Nest