CHAPTER 18
1021 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Docking bay of Fortress Orean on moon of planet Raiek
Zaran 'Gangolee fondled the plasma sword attached to his wrist. It would be his only recourse against those meddling Spartans and their cursed MJOLNIR armor. That armor was the only thing that saved them sometimes, as well as the Covenant shield technology they had stolen!
Above him, Gantu 'Mantamee ordered the pilot to ease the freight ship in. The pilot obliged and angled the large ship downwards. It cut easily through the air around it, slightly heating up. The pilot flicked a switch, cooling the hull as he looked at his leader. "We're coming in, sir," the pilot murmured. "ETA is two minutes."
"Good," Gantu said, smiling in the Elite way. "But try to make it one."
The pilot rolled his eyes and turned back to the controls.
Zaran faced two Grunts standing next to him. He looked down upon them and frowned. "Have you deactivated the auto-guns yet?" he growled. One of them screamed and hurried off. To the other, Zaran said, "What about you? Have you nothing to do?"
"Should I, Excellency?"
That was a mistake. Zaran's plasma sword sprung from its place on his wrist and he sliced the Grunt's head off in a fraction of a second. "Fool," he muttered as the body dropped to the ground and the beam sword vanished.
Gantu's ship hovered in mid-air as Jackal crews worked in the docking bay to open the doors. They pulled levers and manipulated switches, changing the settings and entering passwords for various codes.
In moments, the door hissed open. Before their very eyes, the last fright ship carrying what remained of Raiek's liquid plasma supply landed on the pad. They ship seemed to shudder and then snap off, its systems shutting down.
On one corner of the ship, the hatch sprung open and placed itself neatly on the ground. Spec Ops Elite Gantu 'Mantamee walked from it, his pilot walking shakily behind him. A smile was plastered on the gray-clad warrior as he made his way down the ramp and stood in front of the golden Commander. "Excellency," Gantu said with a bow, "We have brought you the last shipment of plasma."
Zaran frowned, his armor gleaming in the sunlight of the now-open docking bay door. "Can no return trips be made to the planet called Raiek?" he asked in an irritated tone.
Gantu shook his head. "Negative, Commander. The planet's surface is much too violent for any more harvesting of the plasma. We will have to fire at Earth with what we've got here. I'm afraid there is no other option."
With a curd nod, Zaran acknowledged what he had heard. He was not happy, but he knew the officer was correct. Then he decided to assign Gantu to something more exciting. "Perhaps you would like a new post, officer?" Zaran inquired.
Gantu nodded.
"Good." He placed a hand on Gantu's shoulder as the two of them walked. "Finish the job!" Zaran shouted to his men. To Gantu, he continued. "There are some fighting humans outside, and they are relentless in attacking their Fortress. If we do not destroy their forces enough so that they leave this area, Fortress Orean will fall."
Gantu nodded again. "I understand, Excellency," he said, and bowed, armor clicking as he did so.
Zaran smiled and clapped the warrior on the back. "Excellent!" he said brightly. Then, his features darkened. "Also, understand this..." he said in a whisper, "See that Grunt over there?" Gantu nodded when he noticed the decapitated Grunt Zaran had killed moments before, "If you fail, you're next!"
With a laugh, Zaran clapped Gantu on the back again and left the room, chuckling low to himself.
1024 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Outside Fortress Orean on moon of planet Raiek
Farr 'Tenglannee sat in the back of Echo-415, nicknamed Foehammer, as the ship descended through the atmosphere. It held a plethora of Marines, along with a Warthog, dangling outside the ship on wires. There were three other dropships, Echo-416, -417 and -418 following them. Each one had many Marines and one Warthog apiece. However, Echo-417 was bulkier than the rest, and held a Scorpion Battle Tank under its hull for some major firepower.
Shifting uncomfortably under the suspicious stares of the UNSC Marines, Farr gripped the MA5B assault rifle loaded with ammo in front of him. The briefing officer had issued lots of wepaons to Farr, and had him covered in ammo for the two guns he carried, an assault rifle and an M6D pistol. He also had four fragmentation grenades on his back.
It seemed as if none of the Marines trusted him. He was, after all, an Elite clad in grey armor, signifying a higher rank than those Minors in blue. He wasn't especially high in the Covenant, but in the rebels he was top-dog. Not many outranked Farr in the Rebel forces.
Thinking back over the battle, Farr realized it was impossible for any Rebels to outrank him. According to reports given to him by Commander James, all the Rebels had been killed back on Raiek, and that he was the only survivor. Even his little friend Kakay had died on the planet, shot in the head by a Spartan!
The engines of Foehammer rumbled behind her as she set herself down. Captain Hank Moores and his Lieutenant Sellers came running from the brush to meet them, followed by a squad of Marines.
"Thank Heaven you made it!" Moores called up in relief.
Jarrett landed first in the dark hallway. He landed silently on his boots and crouched his knees slightly to muffle any sound. It was crucial that they were not heard. Next to him, Alex landed, and Bryce was next. The Commander was the last.
James motioned with his gun. He pointed to the light switch and activated his assault rifle's light. The end of the gun snapped and a light beam shot from it, sweeping through the dark room. They waved their guns through the pitch black as they moved silently through the tunnel, each staying close to his teammate.
A flick of James' hand caused the entire group to halt. They had all heard it. A dull thump that resonated through the lonely tunnel, gripping them with fear. They feared that the Flood were going to be upon them.
Jarrett stood in front of a ventilation shaft. He faced the entire group and shrugged his shoulders at them. "I don't think it was anything to worry about?"
"What makes you say that?" James asked as he and his team clicked on their weapons' safeties. "We could be in dire peril here!"
"Maybe, sir," Jarrett responded, but I don't think—" He suddenly stopped. All they heard after that was a muffled gasp.
None of the Spartans paid any attention to him. They kept sweeping their lights around the hall. One of the beams of light fell to the ground, illuminating Bryce's feet. "What are you doing, Jarrett?" Bryce asked.
When they turned to look at him, Bryce gasped. James and Alex raised their guns, shining light on Jarrett. The young noncom was being held around six inches above the ground. Behind him stood a combat Flood mutant.
Further inspection to Jarrett's chest revealed that he had been silenced by three tentacles protruding from his upper torso. Jarrett was daftly gasping for air, trying to stop the loss of blood as the Flood dug its tentacles in deeper. Jarrett could barely move as he tried desperately to bring oxygen to his burning lungs.
Alex clicked off his safety and aimed the gun. Jarrett's body was flung from the Flood's tentacles. He landed on the far wall, slumping to the ground, dead. Alex watched, and then spun to face the Flood, but the mutant was gone!
"Where did he go?" Alex asked nervously. The entire team waved their lights around. However, they could not find the warrior. It was like he had vanished into thin air.
It took nearly two minutes of worrying and frustration for the Flood to appear again. He leaped from the vent and landed on the ground, several feet from the Commander. James stared, wide-eyed, terrified. He cried out and removed the safety, raising the gun. Before he could pull the trigger, the Flood warrior cried out.
"Leave me behind, will you Commander?" the thing cried angrily, swinging his massive arm at the leader.
James had only time to gasp out, "Jason—?" as the blow caught him in his chest. He was lifted from the ground and tossed several feet back. He landed hard on the steel floor, his chest aching as he slid to a stop. He was out cold from the attack.
Jason could hear all the safeties click off as Alex and Bryce raised their assault rifles to fire. A tentacle on Jason's left hand whipped forward and snatched the gun from Alex's hand. Another knocked Bryce's to the ground.
"I shall not be left behind!" Jason cried and whipped a tentacle at Bryce. Alex leaped in front of it and stopped the deadly monstrosity before he could end Bryce's life. Jason flipped a right-hand tendril at Alex's face, but the lightning-fast Spartan ducked, as the tentacle sailed harmlessly overhead.
James raised his head and groaned. Reaching down to his side, he picked up his assault rifle and raised it. When it was level with Jason, he pulled the trigger. The bullets caught the Flood in his chest. Howling in pain, Jason turned and sprinted down the hallway.
Outside the croppy outline of Fortress Orean, Foehammer's engines rumbled to a halt as the ship stopped. Her landing gear was out, causing the ship to creak slightly as she touched the grassy ground below her. The pilot inside deactivated all the systems and shut the ship into lock-down mode. She wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon, even if the Covenant tried to mess with her.
Captain Hank Moores walked up the boarding ramp, ducking under the massive Warthog hanging from the underside. He was met by a small army of Marines in Foehammer, and addressed them all in a raspy voice. He was terrified of what might happen in the coming battle against the Covenant.
"Attention!" a Colonel barked as Moores walked in. In unison, the Marines rose and saluted. Moores saluted them as he signaled for the soldiers to take their seats once more.
"Good, Marines! I am delighted that you all made it here from the Constitution in one piece. I am grateful that you are willing to offer your lives to fight for planet Earth!" A cheer rang up. "Also, I am hoping that we can destroy this Fortress's enemies, and end the reign of Covenant influence on this moon for good!"
The soldiers hopped up and down, whooping at the brave words. It was as they were partying for a brief moment that their end drew nearer.
Several meters from the ship, Spec Ops officer Gantu 'Mandamee raised his head above the bushes. Behind him, his red-clad officer watched as well. "Do you think we'll be able to kill all of them in a charge?" the officer asked of his leader.
Gantu looked at him with a frown. "I must agree that their numbers are great, but I also think that if we charge in full force, their power will buckle and we can even take them by force if necessary."
"Of course, sir."
"I want you to launch a volley of grenades inside the ship to begin with. I watched the other two dropships launch from here several minutes ago, and I think they are long-gone by now. Order three of our most well- aiming Elites to launch a salvo of four grenades into the ship. We need to flush them out!"
"Yes, sir." The officer stood watching the ship, staring intenty.
Gantu grew angry. He raised his plasma rifle and struck his officer on his neck. "What are you waiting for?!" he shreiked.
The officer grunted in pain and took off to find the Elites he would need.
"Let's move the troops from the ship and find out how the Spartans are doing inside the Fortress. If they have been killed, it will be up to us to continue what they started as a team." Moores started to turn, when something whistled past his head.
He spun around to see three plasma grenades latch onto the back of the ship. All the Marines near it screamed in fear and leaped away. As the blast went off, three Marines howled in agony and were killed instantly, collapsing to the ground.
Two Marines ran outside and were shot through the heart by plasma fire. "Stay inside!" Moores shouted. "They're trying to lead us outside! Don't go out for anything. Just try to avoid the grenade explosions as best you can!"
Moores withdrew his pistol and growled to the Covenant outside. They wouldn't take him if he had anything to say about it!
Outside, the officer raised his claw again. "Prepare for the next salvo of grenades. We don't want to use them too fast. We—" the officer stopped dead, instantly slain. Behind him, Gantu let the body slump the ground and took his place, kicking the carcass aside.
"Fool. I'll do this myself!" Gantu raised his rifle. "Pull back the grenades! I want three blasts ready to go in! Pull, hold....hold...hold....throw!" In unison, the three Elites threw their grenades at the open hatch of Foehammer.
The Marines hopped away from the grenade that came flying in. It latched itself onto a seat and exploded. Two more flew in and latched onto a Marine. Moores grabbed the screaming man and hurled him outside, where the soldier exploded in a cloud of blue plasma. "We can't take any more casualties than necessary." He looked outside, seeing the soldier dead.
"Close the hatch doors," Moores ordered.
Sellers grabbed the lever and pushed it down. Instantly, the hatch door hissed, starting to close. It moved slowly down, ever downward. Another grenade attached itself to the door, and exploded harmlessly against it. "Speed it up," Moores told the Lieutenant.
Try as he might, Sellers couldn't get the door to close any faster. A final grenade flew in and attached itself to the bottom of the door. It detonated harmlessly against the floor of the ship.
Moores grabbed the nearest Marine next to him. "Do you know how to work the radio, soldier?" The Marine nodded, shaking. "Good. Find a helper, get into the cockpit and start radioing Echo-417. They're the most equipped for this job. They can start firing that Scorpion tank cannon as soon as they can see us. Get them on the radio!
"As for the rest of you," Moores said, turning to face his remaining crew, "find a way to get us out of here! If Echo-417 can't come to the rescue, it'll be up to us to get ourselves out of this mess. We can't take off with the Covenant surrounding us, if we so much as move an inch off the ground they'll shoot the engines and we'll come crashing back down. Better not to risk it."
"Cannons charging at one percent every ten seconds, sir," weapons officer Jeremy said, looking over his shoulder at Captain Martin strapped into the captain's chair.
"Good," Martin said, looking at the radar station. "Report on the forces around Orean? How is Moores fairing?" he asked with a frown on his face. If anything had happened to Moores down there, he was going to unleash the MAC guns on that Fortress, no matter how much it needed to be preserved.
Radar officer Hara turned in her seat and faced the Captain. "According to everything we've managed to pull up, sir," she said glumly, "Moores and Foehammer are surrounded by Covenant forces. I detect three other dropships, but they are miles away, picking up wounded Marines several miles south of Orean, sir."
"What the hell are they doing away from their post? And how many Covenant surround Foehammer?"
Seeing as the first queston was rhetorical, Hara only answered the second one. "I'm picking up what appears to be around twenty Elites, along with thirty-five Grunts, give or take."
"How many Marines left in Foehammer?"
"Unable to tell. The bending metal hull is somewhat distorting our radar."
"Blast!" the Captain said, slamming his fist onto the soft chair handle. "Those things are doing to us what we planned to do to the enemy and reflect our radar in different directions so they can't be picked up."
The humor of the situation was not seen by many of the crew. Captain Martin turned to face the weapons officer and spoke loudly. "What percent are the cannons at, officer? We need to fire them at once and help out Moores and his team as quickly as possible."
Jeremy looked at the console and then back at his captain. "Guns at eighty-one percent, sir," he said, "and now charging more rapidly. About one percent every five seconds. We'll be at full power in a bit under two minutes, sir. Shall I fire anyway?"
"Just hold it until it's at ninety. Then, aim at where the Covenant are camped around Foehammer in the most clustered region and fire on my mark."
"Captain!" Hara cried. The captain looked up to face her. "We have a problem! Three Covenant Banshees and a dropship of alien make are in pursuit of Echo-417 and -418. It looks to me as if they're chasing the ships away from the Fortress, but I detect no plasma firing on the ship."
"Where is Echo-416?" Captain Martin asked gruffly. "They should be helping!"
"One moment, sir," Hara tapped several buttons and responded quickly. "I can see Echo-416 coming around the corner. It seems to me like they're going to try and intercept the Covenant and fire their weapons at them to give the dropships a chance to escape pursuit. The chin guns of the ones being chased can't swivel around and fire, and if they try to turn, they'll be shot down."
Captain Martin cursed under his breath. "I suppose they'll use assault rifles to blow those things. The dropships we make have weapons, but the Covenants' are better. Our MA5Bs may be able to destroy the Banshees; the dropship's armor is impenetrable by assault rifles." He was pointing out the obvious, which was not unheard of. "We have to choose between helping Moores and his team first, or those dropships."
"What do we do, Captain?" Officer Jeremy asked, his face plastered with worry. "We have to help someone quick!"
"I realize that, Officer!" the Captain growled. He turned to his AI Sara. "I have made a decision, but I want to know if you agree. What do you think we should do?"
Sara responded without emotion. "If we destroy the Covenant around the dropships, it will save much more Marines than if we help Moores. I say we go for the dropships."
Martin had clearly chosen the same thing. "Then it shall be done. Jeremy, make appropriate adjustments."
"Another problem, Captain," Jeremy said, looking intenty as his controls. "Since those target are moving so quickly, it will be hard to get a clear shot. If we miss, it'll take nearly ten minutes to charge the cannons again to have an effective shot, and nearly a half-hour for a full blast."
Sighing, Martin straightened his back in his seat. Lately, he had been having back pain and he had become ever-aware of his posture. "Any problems with firing at the Covenant warriors surrounding Moores?"
"Negative, sir," Jeremy responded. "Since the MAC guns were meant to destroy carriers of Covenant make, they are extremely powerful and might destroy Foehammer in the explosion or after-shock. If we don't intervene, the Captain might be able to escape on his own. However, we won't know until it's too late."
The Captain's brow furrowed. He had to make a decision, and he had to make it quickly. After weighing both options, he had come to a difficult conclusion. It meant dooming one team to failure and saving another.
"Aim the cannon at the Covenant dropship," he said without emotion.
He wondered if he would ever see Captain Hank Moores again.
1021 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Docking bay of Fortress Orean on moon of planet Raiek
Zaran 'Gangolee fondled the plasma sword attached to his wrist. It would be his only recourse against those meddling Spartans and their cursed MJOLNIR armor. That armor was the only thing that saved them sometimes, as well as the Covenant shield technology they had stolen!
Above him, Gantu 'Mantamee ordered the pilot to ease the freight ship in. The pilot obliged and angled the large ship downwards. It cut easily through the air around it, slightly heating up. The pilot flicked a switch, cooling the hull as he looked at his leader. "We're coming in, sir," the pilot murmured. "ETA is two minutes."
"Good," Gantu said, smiling in the Elite way. "But try to make it one."
The pilot rolled his eyes and turned back to the controls.
Zaran faced two Grunts standing next to him. He looked down upon them and frowned. "Have you deactivated the auto-guns yet?" he growled. One of them screamed and hurried off. To the other, Zaran said, "What about you? Have you nothing to do?"
"Should I, Excellency?"
That was a mistake. Zaran's plasma sword sprung from its place on his wrist and he sliced the Grunt's head off in a fraction of a second. "Fool," he muttered as the body dropped to the ground and the beam sword vanished.
Gantu's ship hovered in mid-air as Jackal crews worked in the docking bay to open the doors. They pulled levers and manipulated switches, changing the settings and entering passwords for various codes.
In moments, the door hissed open. Before their very eyes, the last fright ship carrying what remained of Raiek's liquid plasma supply landed on the pad. They ship seemed to shudder and then snap off, its systems shutting down.
On one corner of the ship, the hatch sprung open and placed itself neatly on the ground. Spec Ops Elite Gantu 'Mantamee walked from it, his pilot walking shakily behind him. A smile was plastered on the gray-clad warrior as he made his way down the ramp and stood in front of the golden Commander. "Excellency," Gantu said with a bow, "We have brought you the last shipment of plasma."
Zaran frowned, his armor gleaming in the sunlight of the now-open docking bay door. "Can no return trips be made to the planet called Raiek?" he asked in an irritated tone.
Gantu shook his head. "Negative, Commander. The planet's surface is much too violent for any more harvesting of the plasma. We will have to fire at Earth with what we've got here. I'm afraid there is no other option."
With a curd nod, Zaran acknowledged what he had heard. He was not happy, but he knew the officer was correct. Then he decided to assign Gantu to something more exciting. "Perhaps you would like a new post, officer?" Zaran inquired.
Gantu nodded.
"Good." He placed a hand on Gantu's shoulder as the two of them walked. "Finish the job!" Zaran shouted to his men. To Gantu, he continued. "There are some fighting humans outside, and they are relentless in attacking their Fortress. If we do not destroy their forces enough so that they leave this area, Fortress Orean will fall."
Gantu nodded again. "I understand, Excellency," he said, and bowed, armor clicking as he did so.
Zaran smiled and clapped the warrior on the back. "Excellent!" he said brightly. Then, his features darkened. "Also, understand this..." he said in a whisper, "See that Grunt over there?" Gantu nodded when he noticed the decapitated Grunt Zaran had killed moments before, "If you fail, you're next!"
With a laugh, Zaran clapped Gantu on the back again and left the room, chuckling low to himself.
1024 Hours, August 15, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Outside Fortress Orean on moon of planet Raiek
Farr 'Tenglannee sat in the back of Echo-415, nicknamed Foehammer, as the ship descended through the atmosphere. It held a plethora of Marines, along with a Warthog, dangling outside the ship on wires. There were three other dropships, Echo-416, -417 and -418 following them. Each one had many Marines and one Warthog apiece. However, Echo-417 was bulkier than the rest, and held a Scorpion Battle Tank under its hull for some major firepower.
Shifting uncomfortably under the suspicious stares of the UNSC Marines, Farr gripped the MA5B assault rifle loaded with ammo in front of him. The briefing officer had issued lots of wepaons to Farr, and had him covered in ammo for the two guns he carried, an assault rifle and an M6D pistol. He also had four fragmentation grenades on his back.
It seemed as if none of the Marines trusted him. He was, after all, an Elite clad in grey armor, signifying a higher rank than those Minors in blue. He wasn't especially high in the Covenant, but in the rebels he was top-dog. Not many outranked Farr in the Rebel forces.
Thinking back over the battle, Farr realized it was impossible for any Rebels to outrank him. According to reports given to him by Commander James, all the Rebels had been killed back on Raiek, and that he was the only survivor. Even his little friend Kakay had died on the planet, shot in the head by a Spartan!
The engines of Foehammer rumbled behind her as she set herself down. Captain Hank Moores and his Lieutenant Sellers came running from the brush to meet them, followed by a squad of Marines.
"Thank Heaven you made it!" Moores called up in relief.
Jarrett landed first in the dark hallway. He landed silently on his boots and crouched his knees slightly to muffle any sound. It was crucial that they were not heard. Next to him, Alex landed, and Bryce was next. The Commander was the last.
James motioned with his gun. He pointed to the light switch and activated his assault rifle's light. The end of the gun snapped and a light beam shot from it, sweeping through the dark room. They waved their guns through the pitch black as they moved silently through the tunnel, each staying close to his teammate.
A flick of James' hand caused the entire group to halt. They had all heard it. A dull thump that resonated through the lonely tunnel, gripping them with fear. They feared that the Flood were going to be upon them.
Jarrett stood in front of a ventilation shaft. He faced the entire group and shrugged his shoulders at them. "I don't think it was anything to worry about?"
"What makes you say that?" James asked as he and his team clicked on their weapons' safeties. "We could be in dire peril here!"
"Maybe, sir," Jarrett responded, but I don't think—" He suddenly stopped. All they heard after that was a muffled gasp.
None of the Spartans paid any attention to him. They kept sweeping their lights around the hall. One of the beams of light fell to the ground, illuminating Bryce's feet. "What are you doing, Jarrett?" Bryce asked.
When they turned to look at him, Bryce gasped. James and Alex raised their guns, shining light on Jarrett. The young noncom was being held around six inches above the ground. Behind him stood a combat Flood mutant.
Further inspection to Jarrett's chest revealed that he had been silenced by three tentacles protruding from his upper torso. Jarrett was daftly gasping for air, trying to stop the loss of blood as the Flood dug its tentacles in deeper. Jarrett could barely move as he tried desperately to bring oxygen to his burning lungs.
Alex clicked off his safety and aimed the gun. Jarrett's body was flung from the Flood's tentacles. He landed on the far wall, slumping to the ground, dead. Alex watched, and then spun to face the Flood, but the mutant was gone!
"Where did he go?" Alex asked nervously. The entire team waved their lights around. However, they could not find the warrior. It was like he had vanished into thin air.
It took nearly two minutes of worrying and frustration for the Flood to appear again. He leaped from the vent and landed on the ground, several feet from the Commander. James stared, wide-eyed, terrified. He cried out and removed the safety, raising the gun. Before he could pull the trigger, the Flood warrior cried out.
"Leave me behind, will you Commander?" the thing cried angrily, swinging his massive arm at the leader.
James had only time to gasp out, "Jason—?" as the blow caught him in his chest. He was lifted from the ground and tossed several feet back. He landed hard on the steel floor, his chest aching as he slid to a stop. He was out cold from the attack.
Jason could hear all the safeties click off as Alex and Bryce raised their assault rifles to fire. A tentacle on Jason's left hand whipped forward and snatched the gun from Alex's hand. Another knocked Bryce's to the ground.
"I shall not be left behind!" Jason cried and whipped a tentacle at Bryce. Alex leaped in front of it and stopped the deadly monstrosity before he could end Bryce's life. Jason flipped a right-hand tendril at Alex's face, but the lightning-fast Spartan ducked, as the tentacle sailed harmlessly overhead.
James raised his head and groaned. Reaching down to his side, he picked up his assault rifle and raised it. When it was level with Jason, he pulled the trigger. The bullets caught the Flood in his chest. Howling in pain, Jason turned and sprinted down the hallway.
Outside the croppy outline of Fortress Orean, Foehammer's engines rumbled to a halt as the ship stopped. Her landing gear was out, causing the ship to creak slightly as she touched the grassy ground below her. The pilot inside deactivated all the systems and shut the ship into lock-down mode. She wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon, even if the Covenant tried to mess with her.
Captain Hank Moores walked up the boarding ramp, ducking under the massive Warthog hanging from the underside. He was met by a small army of Marines in Foehammer, and addressed them all in a raspy voice. He was terrified of what might happen in the coming battle against the Covenant.
"Attention!" a Colonel barked as Moores walked in. In unison, the Marines rose and saluted. Moores saluted them as he signaled for the soldiers to take their seats once more.
"Good, Marines! I am delighted that you all made it here from the Constitution in one piece. I am grateful that you are willing to offer your lives to fight for planet Earth!" A cheer rang up. "Also, I am hoping that we can destroy this Fortress's enemies, and end the reign of Covenant influence on this moon for good!"
The soldiers hopped up and down, whooping at the brave words. It was as they were partying for a brief moment that their end drew nearer.
Several meters from the ship, Spec Ops officer Gantu 'Mandamee raised his head above the bushes. Behind him, his red-clad officer watched as well. "Do you think we'll be able to kill all of them in a charge?" the officer asked of his leader.
Gantu looked at him with a frown. "I must agree that their numbers are great, but I also think that if we charge in full force, their power will buckle and we can even take them by force if necessary."
"Of course, sir."
"I want you to launch a volley of grenades inside the ship to begin with. I watched the other two dropships launch from here several minutes ago, and I think they are long-gone by now. Order three of our most well- aiming Elites to launch a salvo of four grenades into the ship. We need to flush them out!"
"Yes, sir." The officer stood watching the ship, staring intenty.
Gantu grew angry. He raised his plasma rifle and struck his officer on his neck. "What are you waiting for?!" he shreiked.
The officer grunted in pain and took off to find the Elites he would need.
"Let's move the troops from the ship and find out how the Spartans are doing inside the Fortress. If they have been killed, it will be up to us to continue what they started as a team." Moores started to turn, when something whistled past his head.
He spun around to see three plasma grenades latch onto the back of the ship. All the Marines near it screamed in fear and leaped away. As the blast went off, three Marines howled in agony and were killed instantly, collapsing to the ground.
Two Marines ran outside and were shot through the heart by plasma fire. "Stay inside!" Moores shouted. "They're trying to lead us outside! Don't go out for anything. Just try to avoid the grenade explosions as best you can!"
Moores withdrew his pistol and growled to the Covenant outside. They wouldn't take him if he had anything to say about it!
Outside, the officer raised his claw again. "Prepare for the next salvo of grenades. We don't want to use them too fast. We—" the officer stopped dead, instantly slain. Behind him, Gantu let the body slump the ground and took his place, kicking the carcass aside.
"Fool. I'll do this myself!" Gantu raised his rifle. "Pull back the grenades! I want three blasts ready to go in! Pull, hold....hold...hold....throw!" In unison, the three Elites threw their grenades at the open hatch of Foehammer.
The Marines hopped away from the grenade that came flying in. It latched itself onto a seat and exploded. Two more flew in and latched onto a Marine. Moores grabbed the screaming man and hurled him outside, where the soldier exploded in a cloud of blue plasma. "We can't take any more casualties than necessary." He looked outside, seeing the soldier dead.
"Close the hatch doors," Moores ordered.
Sellers grabbed the lever and pushed it down. Instantly, the hatch door hissed, starting to close. It moved slowly down, ever downward. Another grenade attached itself to the door, and exploded harmlessly against it. "Speed it up," Moores told the Lieutenant.
Try as he might, Sellers couldn't get the door to close any faster. A final grenade flew in and attached itself to the bottom of the door. It detonated harmlessly against the floor of the ship.
Moores grabbed the nearest Marine next to him. "Do you know how to work the radio, soldier?" The Marine nodded, shaking. "Good. Find a helper, get into the cockpit and start radioing Echo-417. They're the most equipped for this job. They can start firing that Scorpion tank cannon as soon as they can see us. Get them on the radio!
"As for the rest of you," Moores said, turning to face his remaining crew, "find a way to get us out of here! If Echo-417 can't come to the rescue, it'll be up to us to get ourselves out of this mess. We can't take off with the Covenant surrounding us, if we so much as move an inch off the ground they'll shoot the engines and we'll come crashing back down. Better not to risk it."
"Cannons charging at one percent every ten seconds, sir," weapons officer Jeremy said, looking over his shoulder at Captain Martin strapped into the captain's chair.
"Good," Martin said, looking at the radar station. "Report on the forces around Orean? How is Moores fairing?" he asked with a frown on his face. If anything had happened to Moores down there, he was going to unleash the MAC guns on that Fortress, no matter how much it needed to be preserved.
Radar officer Hara turned in her seat and faced the Captain. "According to everything we've managed to pull up, sir," she said glumly, "Moores and Foehammer are surrounded by Covenant forces. I detect three other dropships, but they are miles away, picking up wounded Marines several miles south of Orean, sir."
"What the hell are they doing away from their post? And how many Covenant surround Foehammer?"
Seeing as the first queston was rhetorical, Hara only answered the second one. "I'm picking up what appears to be around twenty Elites, along with thirty-five Grunts, give or take."
"How many Marines left in Foehammer?"
"Unable to tell. The bending metal hull is somewhat distorting our radar."
"Blast!" the Captain said, slamming his fist onto the soft chair handle. "Those things are doing to us what we planned to do to the enemy and reflect our radar in different directions so they can't be picked up."
The humor of the situation was not seen by many of the crew. Captain Martin turned to face the weapons officer and spoke loudly. "What percent are the cannons at, officer? We need to fire them at once and help out Moores and his team as quickly as possible."
Jeremy looked at the console and then back at his captain. "Guns at eighty-one percent, sir," he said, "and now charging more rapidly. About one percent every five seconds. We'll be at full power in a bit under two minutes, sir. Shall I fire anyway?"
"Just hold it until it's at ninety. Then, aim at where the Covenant are camped around Foehammer in the most clustered region and fire on my mark."
"Captain!" Hara cried. The captain looked up to face her. "We have a problem! Three Covenant Banshees and a dropship of alien make are in pursuit of Echo-417 and -418. It looks to me as if they're chasing the ships away from the Fortress, but I detect no plasma firing on the ship."
"Where is Echo-416?" Captain Martin asked gruffly. "They should be helping!"
"One moment, sir," Hara tapped several buttons and responded quickly. "I can see Echo-416 coming around the corner. It seems to me like they're going to try and intercept the Covenant and fire their weapons at them to give the dropships a chance to escape pursuit. The chin guns of the ones being chased can't swivel around and fire, and if they try to turn, they'll be shot down."
Captain Martin cursed under his breath. "I suppose they'll use assault rifles to blow those things. The dropships we make have weapons, but the Covenants' are better. Our MA5Bs may be able to destroy the Banshees; the dropship's armor is impenetrable by assault rifles." He was pointing out the obvious, which was not unheard of. "We have to choose between helping Moores and his team first, or those dropships."
"What do we do, Captain?" Officer Jeremy asked, his face plastered with worry. "We have to help someone quick!"
"I realize that, Officer!" the Captain growled. He turned to his AI Sara. "I have made a decision, but I want to know if you agree. What do you think we should do?"
Sara responded without emotion. "If we destroy the Covenant around the dropships, it will save much more Marines than if we help Moores. I say we go for the dropships."
Martin had clearly chosen the same thing. "Then it shall be done. Jeremy, make appropriate adjustments."
"Another problem, Captain," Jeremy said, looking intenty as his controls. "Since those target are moving so quickly, it will be hard to get a clear shot. If we miss, it'll take nearly ten minutes to charge the cannons again to have an effective shot, and nearly a half-hour for a full blast."
Sighing, Martin straightened his back in his seat. Lately, he had been having back pain and he had become ever-aware of his posture. "Any problems with firing at the Covenant warriors surrounding Moores?"
"Negative, sir," Jeremy responded. "Since the MAC guns were meant to destroy carriers of Covenant make, they are extremely powerful and might destroy Foehammer in the explosion or after-shock. If we don't intervene, the Captain might be able to escape on his own. However, we won't know until it's too late."
The Captain's brow furrowed. He had to make a decision, and he had to make it quickly. After weighing both options, he had come to a difficult conclusion. It meant dooming one team to failure and saving another.
"Aim the cannon at the Covenant dropship," he said without emotion.
He wondered if he would ever see Captain Hank Moores again.