ATLAS UPPER ATMOSPHERE

0902 LOCAL TIME

ONBOARD PELICAN FOXTROT-108

'Babysitting duty. That's what we get?' Private Michael Conrad muttered loudly. 'We are stuck babysitting a few guns while the rest get to actually see some action. This sucks.'

'Shut it, Marine!' The team's sergeant, a bulky female named Alice Fowler, yelled. 'At least this way we won't be the first to die. Count yourself lucky.'

Conrad muttered a few words under his breath, then said. 'Sir yes sir.'

Sergeant Fowler stared at him for a few more seconds, then resume checking her weapon, a BR55HB 'Battle Rifle'. Satisfied, she loaded a clip, chambered around and clicked on the safety. Around her, most of the other marines were doing likewise. All had combat knives and M6B Handguns, while there was a motley assortment of battle rifles, MA5B Assault rifles, M90 Shotguns, and a singular SRS99 sniper rifle, belonging to the sharpshooter George 'Bullseye' Gundar.

Just then the hatch at the back of the Pelican began to open, as a voice came over the loudspeaker. 'Approaching LZ, eta half a minute, thought ya might want to see the scenery.'

The Marines all looked up from what they were doing. Indeed, the landscape of Atlas was quite beautiful. The land surrounding the orbital gun was mostly forest, with a mountain surrounding and a waterfall could be seen – and now heard – a mile or so away.

The marines felt the pelican slow as it began to land. Once it was stationary, they unbuckled and leapt out, fanning outwards even though attacks were unlikely at this time. As the pelican began to leave, a ten man squadron of marines filed out from the bunker near the orbital gun: the troops already stationed here. Sergeant Fowler shouted Attention! And her marines stood still and saluted. The leader of the other troops, a sergeant as well, did the same. Then he strode up to Fowler and shook her hand.

'Sergeant Adam Lawson. Been stationed here since the Siege a few years back.' He said.

'Sergeant Alice Fowler.' Fowler replied. 'Stationed here since… just now.'

Lawson smiled and let out a small laugh. He was of average height and build, and like all marines had his dark hair shaved short. Unlike most marines he had a strange tattoo over his left eye. He noticed that Fowler was looking at it.

'It's an old Celtic symbol; the Triskelion. Meant to stand for competition and man's progress. Kinda symbolises our war with the Covenant.' He explained. Fowler nodded and then got to business.

'Situation, as you probably know by now, is this.' She began. 'The Covenant are back and we are screwed if we don't keep this gun online. So me and my men are here to help defend it. Care to show us around so we can take stock?'

Lawson nodded. 'I'll take you up top so you can assess the land. The rest of your men can follow mine to the barracks. I have a few scouts out already so we don't need to worry about any attacks just yet, so they are welcome to hit the mess.'

Fowler nodded her thanks and followed Lawson. As the rest of the marines walked towards the barracks, the ever unhappy Private Conrad could again be heard muttering about babysitting duty. One of the other marines from the Testament slapped him on the back and, with a laugh, said 'Could be worse mate, ya might have been stuck here from the start with these guys!

From 'up top' not only was Fowler able to assess the land and spot key defence areas, but she could once again appreciate the beauty of Atlas. 'This really is a lovely spot to have been posted.'

'Yeah,' Lawson replied. 'It really grows on you.'

Fowler let her gaze wander for a few moments, then began planning. 'What, if you have any, is your heavy weaponry here?' she asked.

Lawson pointed to a few spots. 'We can place turrets in those three places; they are connected to the small service tunnel. It might take a few hours to get in place, but once connected we can have an almost unlimited length of firing time as those tunnels go right back to the armoury. We have three armed Warthogs, two of them standard and one GUASS, and in our armoury we have a few rocket launchers and several ammo cases. I notice that one of your men is a sniper; we have plenty of high bore clips for him if needs be.'

Fowler nodded her thanks. Having a sniper would be a huge asset and she knew that if they had to rely on only what Gundar had brought with him, it might not turn the tide. 'Am I correct in assuming that your scouts are in the Warthogs?'

Lawson shook his head. 'Because of the forest we decided to bring in a couple of Mongooses, that way we don't lose a good 'Hog if something happens to them. And before you start worrying about their safety, a Mongoose'll be faster in that kind of terrain.'

'Alright then.' Fowler said. 'I think I've worked out our winning strategy.' She quickly outlined her ideas to Lawson, and he agreed.

'Let's get them into action.' Lawson said as they stepped down into the barracks.

Private Conrad looked up as the two Sergeants strode into the mess hall. 'Oh joy, our glorious leaders return.' He said grumpily.

'Seriously, what is your problem?' One of Lawson's marines asked. 'All you've done since you got here is complain. You shouldn't be in the marines if you're this soft.'

A few of the other marines laughed, including some of Conrad's own squad. 'Screw you guys.' He said. 'I'm having a smoke.'

He stepped outside as one of the scouts were coming in. The scout was a youngish man, maybe twenty-five or so, with short red hair and a tattoo of a sword on his left forearm. When he spoke he had a faint Irish lilt.

'Who're you supposed to be?' he asked Conrad.

Conrad snorted derisively. 'You're relief, rookie.'

The scout just smiled. 'Whatever you say, boss. Have a nice scout.' He handed Conrad a pair of high powered binoculars and walked inside the barracks. Conrad looked down at the binoculars, then at the Mongoose the scout had arrived on. Then he smirked. Time to get out of here.

Conrad jumped on the quad bike and rode off. He never came back.