Notes: Thanks again to all who have stayed with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter, as I had a lot of fun writing it. Please review!
Just can't take a hint
November 2nd, 2552 10:17AM
Sol System - Aboard the MAC Orbital platform Malta
Level 8
"Keep your focus dammit! They have to stop sometime!" PFC Curtis Avery couldn't really tell if he was trying to convince the other soldiers around him as much as he was himself. The fighting for the past ten minutes or so had been intense. Their squad leader, Lieutenant Jordan Johansen had been mowed down during the previous wave coming off the east elevator by a Jackal's plasma pistol.
There wasn't much left of the Lieutenant's head to actually verify his identity, but his blood-covered dog tags would tell who he had been in life and the soldier he had been in death. He had fought off two previous waves before getting his, and PFC Avery was wondering when death would come for him and the four others remaining with him.
Another ding from a closer elevator almost seemed to call out his number in line, as another group of grunts ran out, firing wildly toward the makeshift barrier the marines had resurrected out of a large desk formally used to check in personnel to be admitted into the Communications room.
The marines opened fire on the group of small creatures as smoke began to rise from their barrier, the plasma heating it up to the flash point and flames began to spring forth. "Grenade out!" a marine close to Curtis arced back and tossed a fragmentation grenade toward the group of grunts, but his forward motion kept him from dodging an incoming plasma shot.
The shot connected with the young marine's chest as he let out a scream of pain. He immediately crumpled to the floor, a sizeable bloodless hole showing the damage that was done, the wound was cauterized the moment the plasma hit him.
The marine had completed his objective, however, as the grenade landed solidly amongst the group of grunts. As shrieks erupted, the small creatures tried hobbling away in vain, but the grenade's shrapnel cut them all down, causing additional explosions as it punctured their methane tanks.
"What the hell was that?" PFC Avery turned to see a slender dark-headed man peeking out of the doorway of the Comm room. His eyes were wide from seeing all the death and destruction that lay just outside their door. "Get your stupid ass back in that room and seal the door! We will move you guys out when we are sure we can make it to the pods safely."
With that statement another monotone "ding" sounded in the hallway, the doors sliding open and two grunts with needlers stepped out. "Only two? Maybe we are thinning them down after all." PFC Avery got his first glimmer of hope since the siege on this floor had started. "Alright guys, let them have it!"
The sound of BR55 battle rifles and M7 submachine guns once again filled the hallway as the small group of marines cut loose, littering the bodies of the two grunts with bullet holes. The little creatures hardly knew what hit them, only managing to fire a couple of shots from their needlers that embedded harmlessly into the ceiling.
A minute passed and no more Covenant had gotten off the elevators, giving PFC Avery a moment to think and contemplate moving the Comm room staff. "Listen up marines, I think it is time to move the others to the life pods. I am thinking that we might have an easier time going the stair route, as they are only a couple of decks down."
Avery couldn't be sure why the Covenant seemed to refuse to use the stairs themselves, as that would allow them to strike on two fronts. Maybe they were just lazy from being used to grav lifts and hover vehicles. Or maybe they felt they were such better fighters that they didn't need to use surprise tactics to strike at their enemies.
Regardless of the reason, this seemed to be their chance to get the hell off this platform and down to the Earth's welcomed surface. "O'Donnell, get in there and tell them we are moving out. We aren't going to wait so tell them to grab n' go! Tucker, I want you and Jones on either side of the hallway, you two take the lead of the group. O'Donnell and I will fall in behind to cover our asses."
Private Michael O'Donnell opened the Comm room's door and began barking orders to the men and women inside. "Get your shit and get out! We don't have time to wait, go go GO!" Everyone in the room seemed to ignore O'Donnell's order at first, hesitant to leave the refuge that had so far protected them. One by one, however, they started snapping to and began darting from the room, running toward the two marines that were stationed midway between the Comm room and the stairwell.
Among the last to leave was Audrey. She had almost forgotten her chatter, and ran back to retrieve it. In her haste she dropped it off the table it had been resting on, losing her grip on it as it fell to the hard metal floor. The device's view screen flickered momentarily, then went black. "Dammit!" Audrey couldn't believe she had dropped the device. Not now. Not when she needed to get a hold of Justin to let him know that they were getting out.
Audrey quickly decided she would get someone else's chatter when they reached the escape pod and would then use it to radio him. She even thought briefly about just going to him, but a quick push from one of the marines told her instantly that she would be going with them. "Stay safe Justin." His image flashed through her thoughts as she started down the hallway toward the rest of the group.
The group reached the stairwell at the end of the hallway, and Private Tucker pushed open the door with his left hand, and then suddenly stopped, recoiling as he did so. The group watched in confusion and then horror as the Private's body was lifted off the ground, two reddish-purple blades suddenly revealed themselves as protruding from the young marine's back as he slumped forward, his life gone instantly.
His body was then thrown forcefully to the ground, and a gut-wrenching roar seemed to come out of thin air in front of them. Only Tucker's remains on the sword revealed anything about the attacker's location. Panic consumed Audrey and the other civilians as they ran back down the corridor, back to the only safe refuge that they knew of, the Comm room.
Automatic fire could be heard down the hall next to the stair well as the three remaining marines opened up on what they thought was the attacker's location. Suddenly Private Jones' head was set free from his body, blood spraying the floor and walls as his body resisted falling momentarily, his hand still squeezing the trigger of his M7 machine gun as the rest of his body began to accept its demise.
A stray bullet from Jones' M7 struck O'Donnell in his right arm, exiting out the back and making a mess of his triceps. PFC Avery grabbed O'Donnell's left arm and the two began backpedaling toward the Comm room and the defensive post they had been previously defending. Avery cursed himself for making what now seemed like such a stupid decision.
If only they had waited a bit longer then they would have known the beast was coming, instead of offering themselves up as some sort of sacrifice to just be slain at the attacker's whim. He had no way of knowing the elite was waiting for them, and would not have shown itself otherwise.
O'Donnell let out a scream that shocked Avery, and suddenly he realized the arm he had been holding was no longer connected to his fellow marine's body. Blood spewed forth from the wound, covering Avery's face and soaking his fatigues. O'Donnell had already hit the ground when Avery began to let loose of both his mind and ammo.
He fired wildly in all directions, shooting out one of the red elevator lights that had previously helped to signal the Covenant's arrival on the floor. "Fight me face to face you damned coward!" Avery yelled as he continued firing, just hoping he would manage to connect with the attacker. He knew he was the last defense for the helpless people in the Comm room. If he went down, this monster would surely slaughter them all.
A sharp pain across PFC Avery's abdomen brought his worst fears to life, as he slowly fell to the towards the floor, using his left arm in an attempt to keep his insides from spilling out. The cut had been clean and precise, as the blood hadn't even started flowing yet, but it would surely come. He had failed them all. He was the one who had taken charge after the Lt had died, and had managed to calm his men and regroup them, but he had been found incompetent by this monster, and now innocent civilians would die because of it.
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Ital Odrolee watched as the last human soldier fell to his blade, and smiled an invisible smile, knowing that he was about to do what he loved most. Odrolee hated the use of weapons other than his sheer strength and speed, but they had become necessary evils to use against the human's archaic projectiles. No, his hands were his tools to snuff out the worthless beings.
The prophets had pounded their teachings into every elite that the humans were an affront to their Gods and deserved no mercy, but Odrolee had never cared for any of it. ALL races were beneath the Sangheili and by his kindred's hands they would fall. It disgusted him to know he had to share the battles with the incapable Unggoy, Kig-yar and Lekgolo, as they were mostly ineffective against the humans.
They were all slow, and even though the Lekgolo possessed much strength, they had no intelligence about them, simply just following orders given by the useless prophets through the Sangheili. He often laughed at the thought of the "Great Journey". Only fools believed in such fairy tales. No, this was HIS "Great Journey", to extinguish vermin like the humans that would dare oppose his race.
Ordolee let out an irritated snort as he decided it was time to deactivate his camouflage. It served its purpose, but now he would have no need of it or of the forerunner's weapons. These would be easy prey for the mighty warrior, and his hands would be stained with their blood. He glanced down one more time at the fallen soldier who had ceased moving, and stepped into the doorway, causing the Comm room's door to open, revealing more humans.
After a quick survey, Ordolee counted four males and 2 females. Their fear tingled his nostrils, causing his excitement and aggression to build. His thirst was about to be quenched.
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Audrey couldn't remember if she had ever been more terrified of anything. Perhaps when her Aunt's home back in Kansas had been threatened by several Tornados when she was 8, but somehow that didn't even seem to compare. The creature's hoof-like feet made a dull clanking noise against the metal floor as it stepped into the room, its elongated head looking the room over as a fox seeking which chick it can consume.
Audrey's right hand gripped around the only "weapon" she had managed to find, a letter opener with a sharp double-edged blade. It seemed almost laughable that it might do her some good, but it was the only sliver of defense she could find. "Leave us alone!" the frightened outburst came from Michelle Aldridge, a young curly-black-headed girl. Audrey hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her a whole lot as the girl was a quiet type, but had found out she had recently gotten engaged after noticing the ring on her left hand.
She wished the girl would've remained quiet this time as well, as the outburst seemed to cause the monster to focus on their location in the room. A young man cowering closest to the elite must have noticed the gaze as he suddenly jumped up and punched at the creature's face. The creature must have seen it coming, as amazingly it managed to catch his hand in between its left mandibles, and then biting down.
The sounds of the young man's bones breaking were followed by a painful yell from his mouth. This was quickly silenced as the monster… "Elite". Suddenly the name for it came back into her mind. She had somehow managed to forget the name for it, whether it was from fear or just too many other thoughts to allow it to break to the front. The creature now had the man's throat in its massive hands, and with a quick flip of its wrist the man's neck snapped, and he fell as the creature released its grips on him.
Tears continued to form in Audrey's eyes with each person the elite destroyed. One of them, Audrey believed his name was Jim, had almost made it out the door when the elite grabbed his head, and squeezed it, crushing his skull and spilling his blood all over the floor. That was the last who had tried to escape, the rest vainly tried to stand up to the monster, and all had been rewarded with an agonizing death.
The elite stood before her and Michelle, seeming to ponder which he wanted to dispose of first. Neither of them moved until the elite had made his choice, and it was Michelle, Audrey would have to wait her turn.
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Ital Ordolee was exceedingly proud of himself. He had snuffed out four lives with his bare hands, and now it was time to destroy the females, the givers of life. It wouldn't be as fulfilling, after all, he had a helpless mate of his own, but it would have to do. The elite reached down and effortlessly picked up the short, slender girl by her neck, her breathing instantly becoming labored. The sound of their necks snapping had always been akin to some morbid symphony to Ordolee, and he savored it every time he heard it.
He however decided against choking the females. No, he would take their lives slowly, cutting off their precious air until their eyes rolled back and their chests failed to expand. He began gently applying more and more gentle pressure to the female, her face now starting to change colors due to its lack of sustenance. Out of his periphery, Ordolee spotted something that immediately took his mind off of the female's impending death. A monitor screen was showing images of something, could it be? Yes, it was the Demon.
Ordolee continued to watch the feed of a courtyard of sorts, with plants, tables and platform littered about its expanse. The Demon was firing into their forces, and his kindred were falling.
The images succeeded into angering Odolee, who wanted more than anything to have the Demon in the grip the young female was now in. To be able to extinguish his races' greatest enemy would make him esteemed above all.
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Audrey noticed the elite's fascination with the screen. She wished for a moment that the Spartan was here with them, as he would have avenged the dead. She also wished Justin was here, but couldn't bear the thought of him dying by this creature's hands the way the others had. No, it was her time. If she was to have any chance to get out of this alive, she would have to strike now.
With the elite's gaze still on the monitor, Audrey jumped up from the crouch she had assumed, and plunged the blade she possessed into the elite's neck. The elite instinctively swung his arm, knocking Audrey across the room and crashing into a nearby computer terminal, instantly knocking her unconscious. The confusion for the elite had also caused it to momentarily loosen its grip on Michelle's neck, allowing her to see clearly again.
Michelle had been a gymnast for most of her life. Her parents had even put her in training to be on the Canadian Olympic team, but she had never wanted to compete in such things. She had always been fascinated in computer systems, and the ability they gave humans to explore the vastness of space. Never would she have imagined that the years on the uneven bars would have prepared her for this, but in the scheme of things it had.
Michelle noticed the blade halfway sticking into the elite's neck, and quickly decided it needed to finish to its destination. She took both her arms and gripped the elite's massive, muscular forearm and hand that was trying to take her life and swung her lower body upward, placing a leg on each side of the creature's head. She then intertwined her feet and began squeezing her legs together, applying pressure to the blade and driving it deeper.
The pressure on Michelle's neck started to increase, and then decrease again as she realized she was making progress. She tried squeezing harder as the thin top to the opener started cutting into her leg, her blood dripping down onto the elite's shoulder. The elite brought its other arm to bear on her neck, but then both quickly became limp, dropping her to the floor. Michelle hit hard on the polished metal, and between that and the lack of oxygen, instantly fell into unconsciousness. As it fell, its head caught the corner of a large square metal table.
The table's edge gave way under the elite's head, but did its damage just the same. A gash revealed itself and the creature's purple-blue blood began to flow onto the cold metal floor.
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Ital Ordolee now struggled for each breath he took. He hated himself for overestimating his advantage and allowing them to get the upper hand on him. But that was all irrelevant now. His personal "Great Journey" was about to end, and he felt assured that this failure would keep his ascension with the prophets from happening as well. The thought of not having to see the pathetic creatures and hear their absurd sermons gave him a tinge of comfort as his breathing slowed to nothing as the light faded from his eyes.
End notes: Again, this was a fun chapter to write and I hope you enjoyed it. I am not sure how many more chapters there will be, but I can say that I have another story planned to follow this one. Hope to see your reviews!
