Here's chapter 2….Although I guess its really more like chapter 1. Regardless, here it is. I'm aware that it is quite short, and I apologize…
--'Please, Make Yourself at Home'
The midday sun cast an odd sheen over Ghost Town—or what could be seen of it from the outskirts of the surrounding forest, anyway. Marines were scattered across the clearing, walking around or lying in the shade. Through silvery-blue visors, an ODST platoon codenamed 'Askar Squad' took it all in.
The biggest one of the bunch gave a grunt. "Hell," He muttered with a rough cockney accent, "Its about time we found this place."
"This is it?" a slightly smaller ODST next to him asked incredulously. This Helljumper held a battle rifle, as opposed to the bigger one's shotgun, and also had a large backpack on. "This is the base?"
"Beggars can't be choosers, Zhao," Another ODST spoke up. This one, unlike the others, had red markings on his pauldrons, instead of the white that marked the other seven shock troopers. "Move out. Let's get down there."
The others all gave of some sort of affirmative, ranging from 'yes-sir' to a grunts of approval, and they started towards the base.
"It'll feel good to sleep in a bed again," The big Englishman commented.
"Even if they do have beds," a wiry ODST standing next to him replied, "I doubt they'd have any that fit you, Henley." Some of the other ODSTs chuckled as the man named Henley gave the wiry fellow a playful punch to the shoulder.
"Stow it, Fisk."
At the center of the group stood two silent ODSTs, side by side. One clutched his assault rifle tightly, as if expecting an attack any minute, while the other casually had his shotgun slung over his shoulder.
"Something on your mind, Jack?" The more relaxed one asked his companion.
Jack looked slowly to his companion, as if distracted. "…No, nothing."
"Bullshit, man." The shotgun-man's accent was barely noticeable, but it had a distinct Texan drawl. "You look on edge."
Jack made a guttural noise, as if surprised that his uneasiness was that noticeable. "You don't think any of the brutes could be following us, do you?"
"Nah, man, you've been near those things. You can smell 'em right through the headset's filters."
Under his helmet, Jack smiled. "Yeah…I suppose so, Andrew. Still, something's not right."
"Lighten up, man. I mean, not to sound harsh, but the Covenant are going to find us eventually. That's our mission; they're supposed to." He paused for a second. "But, we're finally here—relax and let loose." Andrew Hutson suggested.
"Words from the master." Jack's odd reply was, in truth, quite factual; though he was the team's second in command, Hutson wasn't exactly the most uptight soldier—though his ability to suddenly become serious in a combat situation was astounding.
Askar Squad broke from the trees and got their first real look at Ghost Town—well, part of it, anyway. They were standing directly above an open area pockmarked with large, blue containers. An arch led under a large wall leading farther into the base, and a slightly broken building was at the center of it all—just ahead of them, slightly to their left. The large wall leading off of the building that was visible was far too high to climb, but just under the tunnel beneath it was a short walkway leading to its far side.
A sniper shot suddenly slammed into the tree just behind Henley, splintering its bark and making a loud bang that reverberated and broke the quiet of midday. "Hold your fire!" The ODST with red marks roared. If any marines hadn't been paying attention to the newcomers when they suddenly broke from the jungle, the shot had grabbed their attention instantly.
"Dipshit," Henley muttered, shooting a glare at the far-off marine who was guiltily clutching a sniper rifle. The marine couldn't have been older than twenty, and had an apologetic look on his face.
"Well," Andrew said slowly, "If any Covenant were following us, they sure as hell know where we are now."
"Gunnery Sergeant Alem, sir!" A marine ran up to them from the masses about—Jack himself counted at least thirty. The eight men turned to him slowly, and he saluted to the red-marked Nasser Alem. "Corporal Hoffman. Good to have you with us, Sergeant."
"Who's in charge here, soldier?" Alem asked.
"Lieutenant Cross, sir. She's just over by the command center. C'mon, I'll take you there." Then, he turned, and hotfooted it towards the opening under the wall. The ODSTs were right behind him.
"She?" Henley said slowly.
"Yes, big guy. Try and keep it in your pants, will you?" For what far from the second time that day, Fisk cracked a joke at Henley's expense. This was met with further cackling and another playful slug to the shoulder. "Hey, man, my shoulder's been sore for weeks!"
"Deal with it."
The marines they passed saluted awkwardly or gave a thumbs up to the group, who ignored them for the most part. A few nods were exchanged between the Helljumpers and their more common comrades as they passed through the small arch under the wall and emerged on the other side. This side housed a good deal of elevated walkways and catwalks, and the remains of some parts of the building's structure were visible everywhere.
Directly in front of them was a large, open building that looked like it had once been something in between a garage and a storage facility. Its lowest level was raised above the ground by a steep ramp. One level up were two massive sheets of metal—large, brown monstrosities blocking most of the second level from view. A small opening was visible in between the two.
As they walked up the acutely-steep incline and into the large, open ruin, it became clear that it had been chosen as a command center. Tables had been set up around the room, and they were covered with various pieces of technology—computers, radar scanners, radio transmitters—it was a standard rig for an outpost. Techs, wearing their typical uniform, were hunched over various pieces of the technology, scrambling from table to table, as busy as ants.
In the middle of it was a single marine wearing typical olive combat garb. They had no helmet—a small bun of brunette hair could be seen, neatly tied. The woman, for it was a she, had their hands clasped behind their back. She was not pretty in the normal sense, but something about her seemed to exude grace and authority—this person was clearly a leader at heart.
"Sergeant," The woman said as the group of ODSTs approached. She held out her hand. "Glad they sent us some competent reinforcement."
Honestly, Jack thought to himself, Could be saying the same of you.
"Its good to be here, Lieutenant." Alem, still masked, shook the woman's hand firmly. "You seem to have quite an operation going here."
"I would like to think so," Cross replied. "I've got at least eighty men here, and we've set up a defensive perimeter. All of our tech seems to be fully functional, so if the Covenant try anything, we'll know they're coming in advance. I just hope it'll be enough."
"Ma'am?" Alem asked curiously.
The el-tee's expression was grim. "The Covenant know we're here, and there's no doubt they'll be coming for us soon. We don't know what kind of numbers they'll be bringing, but its likely that we'll be outnumbered. We're preparing for the worst." The ODSTs were uncomfortable; they had known this was going to happen all along. Fortunately, they had their helmets to cover their facial expressions—not one let their feelings show. "The marines' morale is low, but hopefully your arrival will help change that. I'm certain you and your men are the best fighters here—my men are going to look to you for leadership."
Alem nodded understandingly. "How soon can we expect an attack?"
"No clue. But it will be soon enough." She stopped, sighed, and then continued. "We're in a real bad situation here. We should have prepped for evac, but there's nowhere for us to go. We've decided to hold out here as long as we can, to take attention away from Crow's Nest. There's a chance, though, that none of us will be leaving this base."
"Whatever the situation, ma'am, you can count on us. We go feet first."
--
I don't want to reveal too much of the plot of the next chapter, so all I will say is…well…guns will be fired.
Any reviews would be greatly appreciated, as always.