Battered Bastards of Ida
Chapter Two: Victory
January 21st, 2527
Lieutenant Nikolai Cross groaned as he slowly came to, fighting back the throngs of blissful unconsciousness. The first thing that registered in his mind was the sound of gunfire and plasma weaponry. A pain seared through his back as he slowly pushed himself off of the ice cold ground, shaking himself free of the temporary grogginess. "Incoming!" Somebody shouted as another plasma bolt flew over, leaving an impact crater behind the trench-line.
Cross clenched his teeth in pain as he finally managed to stumble to his feet and begin assessing the situation. Barrackman's still body lay several meters away from him, having been dragged away from Cross, while several marines lay dead within the trench. Private First Class Jensen, with a large plasma burn on his left shoulder, manned the machinegun that had been operated by Barrackman's platoon sergeant before her demise with only one working arm, reloading as best and as fast he could manage.
Corporal Hagar and several other marines were manning the other M247 GPMG further down the line, mowing down several sections of Grunts.
It finally occurred to Cross that they were under attack, his mind suddenly snapping out of the psychosis like state that unconsciousness had brought about. The Lieutenant began searching for his rifle, finding it on the ground and discovering the M392 DMR to be inoperable due to part of it being melted from the mortar shot that had landed within the trench-line.
Cross instead opted to retrieve his holstered M6C Personal Defense Weapon System, firing the .50 caliber hand-cannon at the encroaching Covenant forces, who were making another large push towards the company CP. Despite his own pain, Cross continuously fired at the seemingly endless wave of Covenant, taking out several Grunts and Jackals who were pushing closer and closer to the line.
When his twelve round magazine ran dry and Jensen paused to reload, Cross shuffled over and grabbed Jensen's discarded MA37 Assault Rifle, steadying himself on the edge of the trench-line and laying down fire to cover Jensen. His body screamed in both pain and protest, but the Lieutenant carried on. "Pour it on those squid fucks!" The usually calm Lieutenant roared tenaciously to the Private First Class after he had finished reloading.
Dusk was coming on in the Plains of Ida region, ever so oblivious to the battle going on within the valley that the plains were situated within. If it wasn't for the plasma bolts of various coloration firing over his head, Cross may have once called it a serene winter landscape, something an artist would paint, but now it was nothing more than a darker battlefield splattered with the blood of both humans and Covenant troops.
Jensen opened up on the Covenant lines, slaughtering a group led by two Elites that had almost made it into the trench-line and pushing back quite a few more. With just one hundred rounds in the magazine and two more reloads, it was only a matter of time before the Covenant pushed through.
To make matters worse, however, Cross noticed that parts of the line had already collapsed, with marines collapsing left and right. The Covenant simply jumped through these gaps in the trench-line and continued pushing. It was a slaughter for both sides, but the Covenant had the upper hand. "Fall back, Jensen!" Cross shouted, taking over the machinegun emplacement from the wounded PFC.
Jensen left Cross his assault rifle, and moved to help the now conscious Barrackman to his feet as several marines joined in the retreat. "Retreat!" Cross roared to any remaining marines, emptying the magazine in the M247 GPMG. He grabbed his discarded sidearm, reloaded it, and fired it with one hand as he loaded another hundred rounds into the machinegun.
He opened up once more, covering the marines as they made their escape and held the line as best he could. It didn't take long to exhaust through the remainder of the ammo at this gun, with Cross sprinting towards the other machinegun emplacement, utilizing his sidearm in one hand and Jensen's assault rifle in the other to hold the enemy at bay while he moved to man the other turret.
Once there, the Lieutenant opened up into the enemy lines yet again, taking down quite a few of the cannon fodder Grunts and Jackals that were being sent in waves. The right flank was partially secure, but the left was wide open. Cross unmounted the 7.62mm machinegun and moved it closer to the middle of the line to better cover the entirety of the trench-line.
Cross used the machinegun as he would an assault rifle, resting it without a weapon mount on the snow covered edge of the makeshift and quickly dugout trench. With only a single one hundred magazine left, the Lieutenant reloaded the M247 for the final time and fired burst after burst into Elites, Jackals, and Grunts alike, leaving them to lie dead or heavily wounded on the battlefield.
But, they kept coming in waves and it was only a matter of time before he ran out of ammo. Cross grabbed a nearby deceased marine's M45 Tactical Shotgun, firing eight gauge shells into the fast approaching cannon fodder aliens as he clambered out of the back of the trench-line and slowly began retreating towards the CP.
Once the shotgun's ammo was exhausted, Cross threw the useless weapon at a Grunt that had made it into very close proximity to the Lieutenant, knocking the Grunt off its feet in surprise. Cross turned a sprinted back towards the CP, shouting all the way. "Friendly! Friendly!" He called out as he dove through the brush and into the courtyard of the CP.
There he found that the remaining marines from the middle trench-line, which was mostly comprised of members of his platoon's first squad, had setup defensive positions to defend against the oncoming Covenant that had overrun them. This included the recently dismounted M247H Heavy Machineguns taken from the company's Warthogs. "Hold your fire!" Barrackman shouted upon seeing Cross emerge from the brush.
The Second Lieutenant sprinted to the cover and practically dived behind the defenses, taken cover from the Covenant forces that had been hot on his heels. "Incoming." Was all Cross managed to say before the heavy machineguns opened up on the Covenant that emerged from the brush as the Lieutenant had. Barrackman thrust an M7 Caseless Submachinegun into his hands to help the defenders.
Cross leaned over his cover and opened up, expelling the caseless rounds towards the Covenant in short fire bursts. He aimed for the more vulnerable Jackals and Grunts, leaving the Elites to the heavy machineguns, knowing his SMG would do practically no damage against the larger beings' energy shields. Barrackman stood with an MA37 Assault Rifle and fired shredder rounds into the unshielded Covenant, tearing their bodies apart upon impact.
Barrackman moved to reload, but a stray shot from a Needler punctured the man's forehead and exploded, killing him instantly. Barrackman slumped to his knees and fell over, dead before he had even hit the ground. Cross was nearly too stunned to return fire, but he continued firing, knowing that the line rested in the hands of the remaining marines in the CP's courtyard.
Once the sixty bullet magazine for Cross' SMG was out, he pulled Barrackman's sidearm free of its holster and used that in place of the highly inaccurate submachinegun. He fired .50 caliber round after .50 caliber round into the Covenant, pulling spare magazines free from Barrackman's utility belt to reload.
Captain Matthias Schmidt himself was on the line, firing a BR55 Service Rifle at the enemy, risking his own life alongside the rest of the marines of Charlie Company to protect their position and hold the line. It wasn't long until the marines found themselves in a similar situation to what had happened on the trench-line, however. They were running low on ammo and even though enemy bodies were piling up in front of the human defenses, unending wave upon unending wave threw themselves at the marines.
At this point, corpsman and walking wounded were armed and were defending the CP with everything they had. Rocket launchers, shotguns, assault rifles, battle rifles, submachineguns, mounted weaponry, knives, anything the marines had in their arsenal was currently in use. It seemed like a desperate gamble for nothing in return. Human casualties were piling on, with the enemy not stopping.
That was, until, the UNSC Navy came through. Four GA-TL1 Longsword-class Interceptors flew over the head of Charlie Company, firing their main armaments into the midst of the Covenant assault force and driving many of them into retreat. UNSC Army operated UH-144 Falcons flew overhead as well, raining fire with both a chaingun on the chin of the craft and two 7.62mm M247H Machineguns mounted on either side of the craft.
The marines of Charlie Company all stood, bewildered at what had appeared before their very eyes. Actual support craft had been sent to save them from a dire situation. In the last year long campaign Charlie Company had endured on Harvest, they had yet to even see a fighter, much less four of them coming to their aid. It was like a dream. Suddenly, cheering began, which soon transformed into an uproar as several of the Falcons covered a Pelican as it came in to land.
When it was on the ground, no other than Lieutenant Colonel Robert Cisneros stepped off the dropship, with two marine guards flanking him and a lit cigar in hand. "Good evening, Charlie Company!" He shouted, fueling the marines' uproar even more. Cisneros saw Cross and grimaced slightly at the Second Lieutenant's appearance. "Lieutenant Cross, you look like hell. Where's Schmidt?" He questioned, looking around for the Captain.
It was then Cross noticed Matthias Schmidt's body, laying still next to First Lieutenant Geoffrey Killian, whose face was half scorched from a charged shot fired by a Covenant plasma pistol. Both were dead. Cross warily pointed towards the Captain's body, with Cisneros following where he was pointing.
"Shit. And Killian, too... What about Lieutenant Barrackman?" Cross simply shook his head.
"I..." Cross paused and shook his head again. "I think I'm the only officer standing, sir." He explained to the Lieutenant Colonel.
Cisneros frowned and stared into the battle hardened faces of Charlie Company. "Standing isn't much of a statement, Lieutenant. Sit down. I'll get a corpsman to look at your back, son." The forty six year old battalion commanding officer stated.
"My back, sir?"
"It's burnt to hell, Lieutenant, or did you not notice?" Cisneros questioned in awe.
Cross simply shrugged, wincing in pain at the slight movement. He was noticing it now that the adrenaline from the battle was wearing off. The Petty Officer Third Class who had declared Barrackman's platoon sergeant dead moved to treat Cross, easing the Lieutenant off of his feet. Private First Class Jensen wearily offering his commanding officer a canteen, with Cross graciously accepting. He took a swig as Cisneros spoke with another ranking officer who had stepped off the Pelican.
Cisneros approached Cross once more, kneeling next to the severely wounded platoon leader. "Charlie's being pulled from the line, Lieutenant. The rest of 3rd Battalion ensnared the Covenant as they pushed towards your position. We outflanked and outgunned them. The Plains of Ida are ours again. Thanks to you and the rest of Charlie Company.
Sergeant Westin joined Cisneros in leaning down next to the Lieutenant, checking on his recently assigned platoon leader. Cross simply nodded, unable to speak as the pain from his scorched back took over and he drifted into a state of sublime unconsciousness once more after the corpsman had injected him with syrette shot of morphine.
Charlie Company was being rotated out and Cross had endured one day of heavy combat with them. Already, however, news of his single handed defense of the trench-line was spreading throughout the company. He was already being revered as a hero by his men, but somehow, Cross didn't feel like much of a hero. At the end of the day, First Platoon walked away from the Final Battle of the Plains of Ida with twenty one of their thirty four members deceased.
The remaining thirteen came to be known throughout Charlie Company as the 'Lucky Thirteen'. None of them felt lucky. Out of the one hundred plus men and women of Charlie Company, only forty four walked away from the Plains of Ida.
Charlie Company's role within the Plains of Ida battle became legendary within the entirety of the UNSC, gaining the famed title of Battered Bastards of Ida. Though their contributions in the Human-Covenant War would span well past the Harvest Campaign, the name would stick with them.
For many, it was a heroic reminded of the few who held an entire division's worth of Covenant troops for nearly a month with little-to-no support except for an occasional group of replacement marines. For the ones who survived the battle, even the young Lieutenant Cross, who had only fought in Ida for a single day, it was a grim reminder of the costs of the war.
