February 2, 2531. (Military Calendar)
Harvest-Epsilon Indi System. Ruins of Utgard.
"Incoming!"
Marines dove in all directions as the large ball of super-heated plasma impacted on the Scorpion-class battle tank. The turret gunner never even had a chance to unbuckle herself before she and the rest of the tank was turned to molten slag. Disregarding the ruined tank, the marines held their ground; the bark of their weapons drowning out the cries of the wounded and roars of Covenant soldiers as they charged forward.
"LT! We got incoming banshees!" A brown haired corporal shouted as he downed a trio of waddling grunts with his M7 submachine gun.
"Rockets up, take those bastards out!" The lieutenant ordered; drilling an unshielded elite through its mandibles. Her red hair billowed from under her helmet and the cold breeze made her seem like a war goddess from millennia past. "Right flank tighten up, gotta get the wounded out."
The platoon cheered as the rocket jockeys shouldered their launchers and blew the offending banshees out of the sky before they did any major harm. Still, the platoon was on the verge of being overrun and evacuation of the wounded was still undergoing. Another marine howled with pain as a purple needle slammed into his chest; exploding a second later and ending his screams.
"Hold the line!" A sergeant ordered as he fired on fully-automatic; his MA5B assault rifle clacking empty too soon as his target; an elite major, drove his energy blade through his chest and out his back. Effortlessly, the elite chucked the dead man off its blade; roaring in triumph. Too soon. Two grenades rolled underneath its feet, detonating and shredding its body and those surrounding it.
"Lt. we gotta fall back!" The corporal exclaimed as he drew his sidearm and began firing; his M7 left hanging at his side. The 12.7 rounds skipped off the shields of the jackals, but distracted them enough for the marines to take them down with a hail of gunfire.
Ejecting his magazine, the corporal slammed his final one into the pistol, firing into a group of grunts trying to set up a plasma turret. Ducking behind cover, he narrowly missed a volley of plasma bolts that soared over his head; striking an unlucky marine in the thigh and shoulder. Rising again, he twisted to fire at a grunt only to feel himself lifted into the air; a burning sensation erupting from his chest. Slamming to the ground, he noticed a grunt with a smoking fuel rod cannon waddling towards him. Downing it with two rounds to the chest, he felt the burning grow more intense. Looking down his armor had boiled into slag which was still smoking from the too-close plasma explosion.
Casting off the useless chestpiece, he snatched up his M7 before diving into a crater next to the lieutenant. "We've got half the platoon down…we have to fall back!"
"Marines don't retreat!" The lieutenant shouted, firing a burst over her head.
"Not retreat, strategic withdrawal! The platoon is done for if we stay here ma'am. Call for evac!" Rising he let loose a burst and down two grunts scrambling forward and sent another diving for cover. A series of rapid explosions sent him sprawling on top of the lieutenant and he grimaced as he felt something heavy and wet land on him.
"Stone?!" The lieutenant cried out as the platoon sergeant gaped at her with empty eyes as the corporal shoved the mangled man off; his shirt stained with the man's blood.
"Dammit, call for evac! Do you hear me! Lieutenant? Lieutenant!?"
Two Months Earlier, Earth-Sol System
The prison warden shook slightly as he poured a fifth of whiskey into two glasses and brought them over to the large window overlooking the prison yard. Handing over the glass, he was surprised when the blonde woman simply downed the whiskey without a single grimace.
Damn spooks…
"Hmm, you said Prisoner-4220 is an ideal prospect for my selection? Point him out to me please." The woman's cultured voice seemed to reflect her English heritage, but the warden had never heard anyone speak like that except for in the movies.
"Yes, he's the one carrying the ball over on the grav ball court. Long brown hair." The warden pointed downwards at the mass of prisoners.
A single one stood out as he thrashed and ducked his way past the defenders only to be taken down by a large black man followed by the rest of the team. Dusting himself off, he went back to the huddle and grinned madly as the QB issued his play. Rushing forward, the man drove his shoulder into the same black prisoner who tackled him and sent him into the ground.
Catching the pass from the QB, the man rushed for another twenty untouched yards before throwing the grav ball through one of the two goals on either side of the goalkeeper. The ball flew effortlessly through the hoop as the keeper was more than three seconds late.
"Hmm, good aim." The woman commented as she typed into her data pad.
The warden continued to watch as the man started to do the normal touchdown dance before the black man shoved him. Shoving him back, the man ducked under a wild swing from the black prisoner and delivered a knee to the stomach followed by a right haymaker. Soon the court exploded into violence as prisoners joined the brawl; team against team. The MPs struggled to restore order and, knowing it was lost, began firing stun rounds into the crowd; downing multiple prisoners including the man who scored.
"Get me that prisoner." The woman ordered before turning on her heel and striding out of the office, leaving the warden speechless.
"Damn spooks…" He muttered as he ran a hand over his salt and pepper hair.
"I heard that."
Shit.
Xxxxxxxxxx
The MPs roughly shoved me into the room, pointing to a chair at the far end of a metal table. I didn't understand why everything in the prison had to be made of metal; lacked a sense of style. Sitting down, I lifted my hands, the handcuffs jingling lightly as I gave the female guard my most charming smile.
"Not gonna work." She growled, her hand resting on the handle of her stun baton. The other guard only chuckled at my expense.
"Can't hate a guy for trying." I leaned back in my chair and rubbed a lump beginning to form on my chest. A stun round had nailed me dead on during the brawl and knocked me on my ass faster than anything ever had or ever would. I was just lucky enough not to get hit in the head like Pascal; that black man has severe anger problems.
Just as my thoughts began to drift the door swung open and in walked an ONI spook. I knew this because of the way the guards stiffened and also because of the jet-black uniform; only spooks and ODSTs wore all black and she didn't have the flaming skull anywhere on her uniform.
"Both of you vacate the room." She said, slapping a manila folder onto the table; a series of papers and photos slipping out. One caught my eye and I angled my head before it was pushed back into the folder.
"But ma'am, the prisoner-
"Will be on his best behavior…right Banner?" The woman asked, pulling her hair over one shoulder. It was amazing how a simple action could disarm any man…or certain women, but that's not the point. I only nodded stupidly as the guards huffed and left the room; the sound of a lock scraping shut echoing in the room.
"Now, I don't think these are necessary." She leaned over and unlocked my cuffs, tossing them aside. "Do you know why you're here, Banner?"
Rubbing at my wrists I only shook my head, locking my eyes with her blue ones. A man could get lost in eyes like that, but knowing spooks, she'd sooner slip a knife between my ribs than give me a tumble.
"Hmm let's enlighten you, shall we? Eric Banner, born 2510 on Mars. Corporal, enlisted when you turned eighteen and followed your older brother into the Corps. Fought in two engagements with the Covenant on Harvest, which is why you are here."
Glancing up from what I assumed was my service record, I saw the tiniest bit of interest flash in her eyes…that or I'm crazy. I'm not, therapist checked me out. Remaining silent the woman continued.
"Whilst engaged with a small force of Covenant, your CO, a Lieutenant Jinn, ordered a danger close fire mission which resulted in the death of three marines. How is this possible?"
"Ma'am, with respect, the lieutenant fucked up. He panicked and ordered the Longswords to drop the payload too early; it caught my fire team in the open. He deserved what he got." I muttered looking away.
"And what did he get, huh?" She flipped through several pages before pulling a photo out and sliding it towards me. "A severe concussion, five broken ribs, and half the bones in his face broken as well."
The photo was a close up of the lieutenant after the incident. Blood coated his unconscious face and his nose was pointing in the wrong direction.
"Ma'am, I broke his nose too." I laughed as I passed the photo back. To my shock the spook actually laughed; making her seem more human. "What's this about? Why the interview?"
Setting the folder down, she folded her fingers together; sighing lightly. "Do you know who I represent?"
"I assume ONI due to the lack of unit patches save for the Spec-Warfare insignia. I know Helljumpers like to show off their skulls so you're not one of them." I folded my hands behind my head; pushing off the ground and teetering on the back legs of my chair.
"Correct. My name is Commander Sophia Parks and I represent the ONI in a matter of most importance…the survival of the human race."
I leaned back down, the chair scraping as I leaned forward. "I'm listening."
"The Covenant is still on Harvest and recruiting has dropped more than fifty percent since the beginning of the war. I have been ordered by ONI to recruit…special individuals and reassign them to their former branches."
"Scraping the bottom of the barrel, eh?" I asked, pulling my file towards me. The photos of my unit and even my fire team were inside. I could still remember Frankie's smiling face as he polished his boots. The way Nylund was able to cook anything out of rations and how he always fought with Nikki. Nikki I missed the most; we planned on spending leave together once we had been extracted…so close.
Tears welled in my eyes as I pulled the picture out and stuffed it into my pocket; not caring what Commander Parks thought. Wiping my eyes, I looked into her own, locking them together.
"Where do I come in?"
"You'll be reinstated at your previous rank and shipped back to Harvest on the Iron Justice, the frigate that your unit and I are assigned to. I will continue to accompany you on your missions and we will see if this project of ours pays off." Commander Parks leaned forward, her voice hushed. "So that you also know, you're the first of hopefully many to come. Humanity needs its soldiers back and the Covenant must pay."
"Who'd you lose?" I could feel the spite for the Covenant in the room and knew instantly her pain.
"I'm from Harvest."
Nodding I rose out of my chair and snapped to attention for the first time in two years; a crisp salute touching my brow.
"Eric Banner reporting for duty ma'am."
Rising as well, she pulled as small cloth bag that jingled out of her breast pocket. Tossing it to me, she returned my salute before stepping back and banging on the door with her fist. I practically beamed when I felt the familiar metal of my dogtags through the cloth; I had an identity now.
"Welcome back to the Corps, corporal…and get rid of the damn hair."
Oh…how I missed the Corps. Oorah!
In the period of five hours I was booted out of my cell, given my few belongings, and on the road to the Washington Space Port where the Iron Justice awaited. Commander Parks was silent for most of the ride and the driver was the roughest man I had ever seen. He wore an all black uniform as well, but sported a series of scars running up and over his bald scalp.
Commander Parks only spoke with me to detail my sleeping arrangements, cyro pod, and where to requisition my armor and weapons. Seems even despite my past, she was willing to give me a chance. As the warthog passed through the security gate I watched the frigate loom over us and as we drove up the ramp into the hanger bay; I felt we were just eaten by a massive beast.
Gruff as I had taken to calling him, immediately jumped out of the vehicle and pulled me out along with him; the commander trailing behind us. I couldn't help but smirk at the marines and pilots watching us as we walked by…well mostly watching me, the handcuffs were hard to miss.
"Commander Parks, I assume this is your package?" An older voice boomed over the sound of the hanger bay.
Awaiting us in front of the ship's elevator was a trio of soldiers. One was definitely the captain due to his naval uniform and age. His black hair had streaks of grey in it and he was missing his left forearm; replaced with a prosthesis. Good, this man has experience. To his right was a tall black man wearing an ODST shirt; the sleeves at the point of tearing from the sizes of his biceps. Last was a dark-haired woman sporting the bars of an infantry captain; probably my new company commander.
"Yes Captain Hicks it is. Corporal Eric Banner…I trust I can leave him in safe care?" Parks asked, crossing her arms.
"You may, but one mess up and he's out of the closest airlock. Understand marine?" He was now talking to me; the bark in his voice causing me to snap to attention and jerk my handcuffs. I winced slightly, but kept as straight a face as possible.
"Sir yes sir!"
"Good, keep your nose clean and you'll be fine." He turned to Parks; tipping an imaginary hat. "Commander."
Pushed forward by Gruff, I followed the captain as the man and woman flanked behind me. I could feel their eyes drilling into the back of my skull. The elevator seemed faster than I was used to and we exited on what was B-Deck. Shoved forward again, I entered the cyro room much to my distaste and viewed the long rows of pods. My worst memories were of being sealed inside those coffins unable to get out while a jackal beats the glass as I can only watch. Talk about a bad nightmare.
"Corporal Banner, this is Sergeant Richards and your company commander, Captain Marsh; they'll explain your duties." Nodding to his subordinates, Captain Hicks left closing the doors behind them.
"Marsh, I'm gonna check on my men; you got this?" Sergeant Richards asked never taking his eyes off me. "I can take-
"Sergeant, your services are not needed. Go play in the pod bay." Marsh muttered harshly before pointing to the door.
Smirking arrogantly, Richards left the cyro bay, running a finger across his throat before leaving. Cocking an eyebrow, I faced the captain, her brown hair tied into a bun and tucked through a cap. Who knew an officer could look so good in such a simple way…shit, no she's the CO…bad thoughts.
"Corporal Banner…mind if I call you just Banner?" She continued as I shook my head. "We're headed to Harvest as I'm sure you know. You will be in cyro for most of the trip as will the marine contingent. At all times you will be monitored by the ship's AI, Naomi, who will sync with your neural lace during slipspace; that way she'll know where you are at all times. Any questions?"
"Ma'am, when will the chow hall be open, I'm starving."
Present Date
"Call for evac! You hear me? Lieutenant? Lieutenant!?" I slapped Lieutenant Jones across the face hoping to snap her out of the stupor. Sure having the sergeant Stone landing on you wasn't good for the mind, but she needed to keep it together. Seeing no response, I hauled her up by the collar and pushed her back, firing as I went.
"Fall back! 2nd Platoon fall back…Parker, keep that MG firing; you've got the rear." I thanked whoever was upstairs that Parker hadn't run out of ammunition for his M247 or 'SAW' as the Corps like to call it. With its overwhelming amount of firepower we had been able to hold the Covenant off long enough.
"Banner!" I turned to see our corpsman, Lance Corporal Sam Marx, come sprinting forward; her medical pack bouncing on her back. She was young, barely out of high school when she enlisted and had celebrated her nineteenth birthday with combat rations. "Lt. hit?"
"No, blast from a fuel cannon hit close, she's out of it." I didn't know why I covered for the lieutenant…maybe because she had given me the chance to prove myself unlike the others who distrusted me…sadly most of those individuals were now dead. "Get her on a pelican!"
"Only a few left, we gotta go!" Marx yelled, slipping Jones over her shoulders as she took off in the direction of the evac site.
"2nd Platoon, haul ass!" I opened up with my M7, the rounds sparking an elite's shield before the magazine clacked empty. The elite's mandibles flew open as it roared; its razor sharp teeth dripping with saliva. "Shit…"
Reaching for my last magazine, I backpedaled and just my luck tripped over an ill placed piece of rebar. The elite did what counted as a grin to its species as it rose its sword; the air seeming to sizzle from the heat rising from the blade.
Then again, maybe luck was on my side as the elite's chest exploded outward from an eight gauge slug. Standing behind it was my bunkmate and one of few friends I had in the universe, Lareto Kaipo.
"I'm always saving your ass aren't I?" The massive Samoan asked as he helped me to my feet; his tattoos shining from the sweat drenching his face. This man here was one of the few true blooded Samoans left in the galaxy and he happened to be my best friend. Thank you Big Man.
"No…just didn't want to let my kill-count get too high. How's Bertha treating you?" I gestured to my shotgun as we took off running; my M7 coughing loudly as any Covenant got too close.
"She keeps the nasties away, but I miss my rifle." Not only was Lareto a hand-to-hand expert, he was the best shot on the Iron Justice with the SRS rifle...which had been blown up three days ago. He had actually cried…that had been awkward.
"I'll scrounge you up one when we get off-world, promise." I saw multiple pelicans begin to lift off; remnants of Outpost Charlie clinging to dear life. Elements of my platoon had already boarded and taken off so only one was left.
"Towers, get us in the air!" I felt a plasma bolt zip too close to my shoulder as I dove into the blood tray followed by Lareto. Lieutenant Jones had regained her composure and directed fire as the Covenant drew closer. "Towers! Now!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Towers voice shouted in my earpiece as she came sprinting around the corner followed by a gurney and two medics. They had made it halfway before a needler round caught the lead medic in the neck; exploding a second later and coating the ground with blood. Rushing out to meet them, I expended the remainder of my magazine on an overzealous jackal and crushed the skull of a grunt with the buttstock of the M7 before tossing the useless weapon away; drawing my sidearm.
My M6 had been with me since I deployed and hadn't failed me yet as I opened fire; the rounds bouncing off of shields and embedding themselves into grunts. The hum of the pelican's engines drew me back as plasma bolts and needle rounds impacted around me; one needler round even exploded prematurely and sent slivers into my chest. Ignoring the pain, I ducked back inside just as the pelican lifted off. Thankfully we headed straight into orbit…I had one round left.
"Did it work?" I asked collapsing on the floor as the Covenant swarmed the base; their armor making it look like a rainbow…a deadly, ugly as ass, rainbow.
Looking to Jones, she grimly pulled a small detonator out of her pocket, the device seeming innocent in her hands. We all stared at it and then back at her as she walked to the open bay; the wind whipping her hair around.
"Could still be marines down there…" She whispered, tears beginning to trek down her grimy face.
"Give it to me." I held my hand out and sighed inwardly as she handed it over. Such a small thing could do so much damage with just the press of the button. The wind blew through my crew cut and cooled my sweaty scalp as I held my breath and thumbed the button; hitting the switch to seal the bay door.
"Semper Fi…Do or die."
So…while I enjoyed writing it, I'm trying to decide if this will be a oneshot or an actual story. I hope to get some input from you readers to decide.
I just wanted to make a shout out to the author Casquis who inspired me to write this. Y'all gotta read his story, The Life.
So that's all, hope ya enjoyed reading, reviews are certainly welcome.