HALO
Fallen
CHAPTER 1
0754 Hours, July 24, 2552 (Planet Reach) Classified Location, Colonel Urban Holland's Communications Center
Static broke through to clear voice on the StatCom's LCD. "Colonel, this is Noble One. There are no rebels, the Covenant are on Reach."
The Technical Officer's face grew grim. He swiveled quickly to Col. Holland who was standing behind him with his hand on his chin, face down, in his white and dark blue uniform. Dammit, he thought. They've been here for days. Maybe weeks. He turned briskly to look toward the holographic projection of Reach's terrain. Behind him, the Tech. Officer's voice rose in shrill anxiety.
"Sir? Further orders for Noble One Actual?"
Col. Holland strode back to the SatCom as various other officers rushed about the Comms. Center in anticipation of deploying the UNSC resources tucked away about the military planet. He stopped by the Officer's chair, his face illuminated by the pale glow. He tapped his shined black dress shoes on the floor once. The Insurgency Situational Meeting would have to wait.
"My God", he said. "A fifth of the planet has just been invaded. Kwon?" He turned to the Technician. "Relay these orders. Now... and send them Godspeed."
0809 Hours, July 24, 2552 (Planet Reach) 22 Miles Northwest of Office of Naval Intelligence Sword Base, Mt. Viery UNSC Marine Outpost CC28
Lt. Donald Blackford walked quickly, mud splashing and glopping around his boots as he pulled his camouflage cap down to retard the rain. It was really coming down, Reach had a trend of planetary hurricanes that hit about 5 times every earth year. Blackford was tired as he passed the Mess Hall, the 29 hour days on Reach had spawned 3 hour longer shifts on patrols and just about everything else. In two years, he had seen "action" once, a local Insurgent that tried to blow up the main gate. It didn't detonate, and he ran off un-apprehended.
The Lt. approached Sgt. Shawn Hall.
"Sergeant! News from Colonel Holland."
"Sir?"
"Well, a sort of news anyway. A broken up transmission. Some sort of large activity. I couldn't hear him well, but I think he said something about a group of Insurgents. Some Spartans, Noble One Actual, investigated up near the Visegrad Relay and hit some heat."
"Sir. Permission to speak freely sir?"
"Granted. Make it quick, my boots are wet."
"Spartans stay frosty Sir. What kind of Insurgent group can take a blow to an elite team of Spartans?"
"I have no clue Sergeant. But you're to mobilize your men. We need five of your M808's and at least twelve men piled into M12 FAVs. The rest will be inserted via Pelican callsign 'Foehammer'. We're headed to Sword Base to provide a perimeter."
"Scorpions and Warthogs? Air insertion? For Insurgents, I doubt it."
Lt. Blackford adjusted his hat and looked ad his mud covered boots.
"Can I trust you with full secrecy on this matter if I tell you Hall?"
"Certainly Sir. I would swear to it in front of ONI Brass."
Blackford looked up again, avoiding the Sergeant's eyes and focusing instead on a UNSC flag fixed to a command tent. It hung heavy in the downpour.
"The Covenant are on Reach. They may be headed to Sword Base." He rose his hand again to fiddle with his cap. He didn't realize that his hand was shaking.
Sergeant Hall was the one hanging his head now.
"Sir? Yes, Sir." With that Hall walked to the barracks.
Blackford stood in the rain.
Boots of Marines slammed into the mud as the diesel engines of M808 "Scorpion" Main Battle Tanks grumbled to life and the electric batteries of the FAVs whined about. The fifteen "Warthogs" took up a column in front of four Scorpions. Lt. Blackford rode shotgun in the front Warthog with Sgt. Hall as a driver.
A Staff Sgt. strode from front to back of the column. He shouted "Check!" at each vehicle followed by the commander's response of "Green!". The SSgt. climbed into the last tank.
A shadow flitted over the convoy as the loud engines of the Pelican dropship "Foehammer" arrived at the landing pad. As it flared it's engines on the concrete of the black and grey pad, the back door hissed and then opened downwards to form a ramp. 10 Marines entered the ship which immediately began to elevate as the door closed. The Pelican hovered over the convoy, blowing a cold wet spray of rain about the convoy beneath. The first Warthog began to move.
The convoy rolled to a stop at an overlook by the main road to Sword Base after they had come through the valley. A purple whale-shaped Covenant Capital Ship with an underbelly dotted with lights. However, the ship was roughly 700 times the size of a whale. Purple Banshees, the nimble fighter aircraft used by the Covenant, slipped out of the ships docks.
Lt. Blackford took his damp hat off. It had stopped raining. He sighed deeply, then drew another, sharper breath that choked him with fear.
"My God." Hall whispered.
Blackford got out of the Warthog and stepped to the edge of the steep cliff down towards Sword Base. He dropped his hat and brought his arms up to the back of his head, clasping his hands together. "No God dwells on Reach." He turned to the convoy. "Saddle up. It's gonna be a slaughter."