Quick Authors Note-
In response to Friendly Aliens review- I didn't like that chapter either so I deleted it and am going to revamp it, but in the mean time here is another chapter. Disclaimer, this is somewhat gruesome and depressing but that's what I am aiming for, but you have been warned.
Helpless
In this day and age of plasma warfare and genocide, it was impossible not to feel helpless, that is, unless you were a Spartan. The feeling ranged across all planets and all nationalities. If you were a human you were helpless. Helpless against and inexorable alien juggernaut hell-bent on wiping you off the face of the galaxy. It was a staggering notion, but it was becoming a reality. Billions, 23 billion, that's 23,000,000,000. Each one of those numbers is a man slaughtered by a plasma bolt, a woman vaporized by a plasma grenade or a child impaled by a plasma sword.
Entire planets were slaughtered while people just watched, completely helpless. There is nothing the average civilian could do. That's not to say they didn't try. There are plenty of videos of a father charging down a street toward a grunt and ripping its facemask off to protect his daughter, only to have a stealth elite decapitate her, and eventually the man being set upon by a dozen grunts to be torn to shreds. Every limb ripped off, entrails ripped out and eventually roasted and eaten. Many women have attacked a brute with nothing more than a knife, only to be stabbed to death by a spikers bayonet, forever stained blood red.
Even the UNSC Military was helpless. Plasma cut through Titanium A like it was butter. They had no defense against a wraith mortar round, or a plasma torpedo. Many times UNSC Marines have stood by, hidden in buildings while civilians were strafed by banshees. Plasma rounds instantly burning any flesh it touches, polluting the air with the smell of death and roasted meat. Orders could not be disobeyed, even when hunters burn grade schools and grunts shoot groups of children with needlers, each round killing multiple children, each exploding throwing helpless bodies around. The Covenant didn't care who you were, elites burned men, brutes ripped apart women and grunts feasted on babies. They were helpless.
Helpless
Lieutenant Michaels felt helpless. He was a radio director inside the UNSC Take a Chance, a command and control ship hovering over the planet Emerald Cove, dictating communications on the ground, between units of Marines while evacuations were underway and few civilians were left. Michaels was currently communicating with a lone ODST with 19 wounded civvies in an abandoned hospital. No civvies could move, most were unconscious. All the way up in space, Michaels felt helpless. The trooper had to move, and leave the civvies behind. But there would be no evacuation for them. Michaels had told the trooper to leave, over and over but he refused to leave wounded civilians to the Covenant. The ODST finally ripped his compiece out of his ear and stomped on it. He would not be coming back.
Michaels needed eyes on the ground. He used an ONI hacking program to take over the hospitals security cameras and reroute them to his console. The cameras revealed a blood stained hospital ward, nearly all the beds were occupied with wounded people, blood covered the white walls and the sheets of the beds, and one lone ODST stood against the wall, battle rifle in hand, locked and loaded. But he was frazzled, his head turned rapidly from side to side, possibly at some noise, the cams had no audio. The ODST was walking up and down the aisles of the ward, when two prongs of bright blue death appeared behind him. Michaels could only watch as the plasma sword impaled the ODST. Twin holes cracked through his visor he collapsed. Behind him 8 Stealth deactivated their active camouflage.
Helpless
Michaels could only watch as the elites went from bed to bed, firing a single plasma bolt in to each and every wounded human on a bed. Blood and bits of brain matter stained the walls behind each bed. The lead elite raised his head and warbled, silently. Just as silent as each of those deaths had been.
Helpless
Tears streaked down Michaels face. There was nothing he could do to help those people. A strangled sob escaped his throat as a lance of jackals entered the room. They quickly pounced upon the humans and begin tearing strips of flesh off their bodies and eating them. Michaels quickly turned off the cam. There was nothing he could do.
Helpless
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