Chapter CIV: Last Line
August 15, 2543 (UNSC Calendar)/
Uppergap Seaport, Uppergap, Lambari, Campo Sorrisco System
"In a vid you always know that the good guys will make it, a gunship or a tank will rescue them in the end. Down there? There wasn't a single gunship that could help within a million miles."- Lieutenant Chloe Delacroix
They came in numbers, but then again, that was to be expected. Phantoms had been dropping elites, grunts, jackals, and hunters minutes after the last transport left. I was worried that they had switched the brutes in favor of the more disciplined aliens who were indisputably better tacticians. They had been dropped well within weapon's range, but they had deployed shield generators before even dropping any troops.
Sharma ordered one of the machine gun crews to fire at the shields a couple of times, to make it seem like we had more men than we actually did, but told them to stop after a few bursts. The translucent barriers allowed us to see just how much personnel and equipment the Covenant was committing to wiping us out. We were the last UNSC forces with our feet down in Lambari. If it had been up to me I would've sent a single Shortsword to do a couple of bombing runs and get it done with. The elites were smart, but they were also proud. Today it was going to cost them.
My radio came to life. "Sergeant, come in."
Leave it to Albaf to address me by only half my rank, Army style.
"Reaper Actual coming in," I said, using my callsign in the hope that the ONI commander wouldn't mess up my rank anymore.
"Reaper Actual, I managed to get a small surprise for you, or more accurately, for Reaper-4."
"For me?" Snark asked. "What is it?"
"A surprise," Albaf replied cryptically. "It's headed down in a supply pod. Should be there shortly."
"Locusts," I cursed, seeing the purple walkers emerge from the ruins of Uppergap. They looked as small as their namesake from this distance, but I knew better than that.
"They're attacking as soon as the walkers arrive to the front?" Darbinian asked.
Then they sent forward the ghosts.
"Perhaps not," Angel suggested.
A couple of the tripod-mounted machine guns started firing, tracer rounds illuminating the darkening sky as they streaked towards the fast enemy vehicles. A second later I heard the noise of an orbit-dropped canister falling somewhere behind me. It sounded awfully quiet when you compared it to a full-size HEV.
"Snark, how about you head back there and see what we've got," I suggested.
"Sure," he shrugged. Right before he hopped down from his ledge I heard the sound of plasma rifles firing uncomfortably nearby, followed by screams of pain.
Half a second later Snark emptied his magazine on four elites that had appeared from thin air. The heavy armor-piercing rounds barely met any resistance as all of them punched through the elite's head, splattering the ground next to them with purple blood and brains. Snark was already reloading his weapon by the time the fourth elite fell to the floor in a heap.
"What the hell was that?" Captain Sharma asked angrily.
Snark had killed four recently uncloaked the elites in less than two seconds with headshots. The Captain hadn't even had time to even open her mouth before the man was done. That's exactly the reason why he's the best, that's the reason why he's in my team.
"Spec-Ops elites," a marine replied. "They popped out of nowhere, they nailed Georges and Eddison. Eddison's dead, Georges…"
Sharam understood. "Give him some painkillers. A lot of them. Then I want you firing back. I do not want anyone else to sneak up on us!"
"Ma'am!" Echo Company replied unanimously.
"Now down with those ghosts!"
Instead of wasting time with a verbal reply, over fifty AIE-486H Heavy Machine Guns and M247 General Purpose Machine Guns fired away. The noise was deafening. The bigger HMGs wrecked the Ghosts in a matter of seconds, the smaller and less powerful M247s took care of any pilot that managed to survive while providing support for the Gatling guns. The Ghosts had been decimated by the time they got within a hundred meters of our walls. They started firing at that range, but by that time they were already within close range of our guns.
The Ghosts were aiming for the turrets, but they were all set up with metal plates blocking fire from below and the sides. The initial wave managed to destroy three turrets, killing one marine in the process, but the rest of the automatic weapons devastated the Ghosts. By the time they had suffered over fifty percent casualties they decided that they had enough and pulled back. We killed even more of them as they retreated.
"Sitrep!" Sharma barked.
"One KIA and three guns destroyed," Darbininan replied promptly. "I sent one man from each crew back to the second line to prepare defenses."
"Good," Sharma said. "Don't let your guard down, that was way too easy."
Huh, I agreed with both Darbinian's decision and Sharma's comment. Strange days indeed.
Snark and myself were the only two members of my squad that weren't manning a turret. We both excelled at long-range combat. He had kept his own SRS and I had managed to snag one for myself. I had yet to fire a single shot, but it was bound to come pretty soon.
And it did. I killed an elite with a neckshot at a range of nine hundred meters. The sniper rounds penetrated the elite's shields and tore a large chunk of flesh from its neck. It immediately raised a hand to its wound, trying to cover the gaping hole, but failed miserably as it collapsed to the ground and started bleeding out, its legs twitching.
"Banshees!"
Shit.
I looked up from my sights and saw a Banshee strafe a line of containers, the plasma cannons hit two marines from one turret position and missed another altogether. However, it let out a fuel rod that collided head on with a third emplacement. The two men manning the weapon saw it coming and managed to jump away from the explosion, landing on the ground. One of them cried out in pain as his shinbone punctures his skin and pants. His friend helped him up immediately and dragged him away, leaving behind a trail of blood drops as he went.
"They're targeting the guns!"
"You don't say!"
"Take out those fliers!"
I paused and gave myself a minute to think. "Captain, you want to use the SAMs or pummel them with the MGs?"
"Eliza, any Seraphs within range?"
"A few, Captain," the AI came in. "None of them seem to be in position to attack you."
"SAMs away!"
Seven missiles flew straight at an equal number of Banshees, all of them collided save for one, but the self-guided missile spun around and hit the flier's wing, sending it crashing to the ground. Surprisingly enough the elite pilot emerged with a bloody arm, barely a scratch when you considered he had crashed down at a hundred miles an hour. Well, that was nothing that couldn't be fixed with a 14.5mm x 114mm round to the head.
I chuckled as I saw the brains and skull bits left their usual position. The SRS-99 was rated anti-materiel. The instruction manual said those exact words followed by the phrase. 'It is particularly effective against delicate equipment, like brains.'
Sometimes I could swear that brass was a bunch of uptight bastards, but then came along a little thing like that that would make me rethink everything I thought I knew.
"They're sending the Wraiths forward," Snark warned.
"Gunners, focus your fire on the tanks, everyone else, I want you to kill infantry," Sharma ordered at the news. "Anyone see a Daemon they paint it and we take it out with rockets. Four rockets, no more."
The Wraiths started lobbing blue mortar rounds over the heads of their allied infantry. Since the vehicles were moving their initial barrage wasn't accurate, missing any target. As they recalculated and took in data they fired again. This time two of the four mortar rounds landed close enough to turrets to destroy them. The marines manning them had enough time to see the bright orbs falling down on them and thus were able to jump out of the way. That still left us two turrets down, not counting the ones that the Banshees had taken out.
Covenant infantry was now at the hundred meter mark, using the husks of the destroyed Ghosts as cover. It was going to get tricky.
I took out as many high-ranking elites as I could. Snark and I were both marksmen, but Echo had a couple of snipers on their own, I wasn't as good with the rifle as they were, but I managed to keep up. We four divided the land ahead into sectors and took care of the aliens in ours. I had just killed en elite major when two green rounds flew by my head.
I rolled behind cover and took deep breaths. I didn't catch the alien that shot me, but it was probably a jackal judging by the carbine.
"Snark."
"I see it," he replied. "More accurately, I could if it would just leave cover."
"Can you shoot it before it shoots me?" I asked him.
"Can a fish swim? Can a bird fly? Can a prostitute satisfy you? Maybe not, but there's a ninety-nine point nine percent chance that the answer's yes."
"So yes?" I asked, playing ignorant.
"Yes."
"That was easy wasn't it?"
With that said I left cover and started sniping away. I killed an elite minor with two shots, one to the arm and another to the chest before Snark's rifle barked out. I looked over and saw a jackal slumping over a flaming ghost. I nodded grimly and emptied the rest of my magazine on an elite with its shields down. I heard some complaints from the marines that had brought its shields down, but they kept on firing.
"We're down to five guns," Darbinian updated the situation. "I advise that we-"
"I know," Sharma interrupted. "Sharpshooters and platoons Alpha, Bravo, and Delta fall back to the second line. Any gunners stay behind."
I fired three more rounds, taking out two elites, both minors. With that I was out of ammunition. There was probably some more sniper ammo back in the second line, but once the covvies bypassed the container barrier they would be too close to use a sniper rifle comfortably. I frowned as I left my borrowed weapon behind, those things were expensive, but they most certainly weren't worth my life.
The stretch of land between the containers and the port wall itself was about two hundred meters long at its thickest and littered with empty tents that had been housing civilians less than three hours ago. Half those tents were set up to blow up as soon as Sharma activated the mines, the other half were within blast range of the booby-trapped ones. Some might call it cheap and low, but I call it smart and time-saving.
"Snark, head for that resupply canister," I bark as I climb one of the watchtowers. "I want you using that thing as soon as we can, whatever that is."
I suspected that Albaf had decided to drop us an M99 Stanchion, but with that woman I could never tell for sure. A Stanchion was still a pretty good deal, one can never complain about magnetic weapons when it comes down to firepower.
"Uhh, Sarge?" Snark asked me. "Are you seeing this?"
He gave me a live feed of his helmet camera. "What the hell is that?"
"A rifle by the looks of it."
"You don't say," I replied. "Never seen anything like that before."
"Same here," Snark agreed. "M102 SASR," he read from the rifle's side. "Cousin to the Stanchion?"
"Helluva cousin, can you use it?"
"I don't know, it doesn't seem to have a power source nearby or a battery. To be honest, I wouldn't know my way around this thing."
"Forget it, get the rifle to your post, along with any ammunition that is in the canister," I ordered. "I'll contact Albaf."
"Sarge."
"Albaf," I said, connecting to the Inconvenience.
"Yes?" She sounded almost bored. Down here the Locusts were getting closer and the first line was about to be overrun.
"I need a crash course on the M102," I said urgently.
She cleared her throat. "Lieutenant?"
"Gunnery Sergeant," Wilkins voice came in, flooding my helmet. "The M102 is a magnetic weapon. It is a railgun as opposed to a coilgun, like the Gauss, the MAC, and the Stanchion itself. It's an experimental weapon that just recently left the drawing board, but preliminary testing have been positive. The M102, also known as the Sledgehammer, fires a 15.0x120mm round. The round itself is made out of tungsten with a depleted uranium core and weights roughly point thirty kilograms."
Ok, so we've got a fucking railgun with rounds bigger than those of a sniper rifle and weighed a little less than a standard grenade.
"Point thirty kilograms?" I interrupted. "15.0x120mm? The Stanchion uses 5.4mm rounds and those can tear apart a brute. Isn't this a little bit overkill for an infantry weapon?"
"As I was saying… the casing of the weapon contains no explosive propellant at all, instead consisting of a capacitor, a battery, to power the magnetic rails on either side of the barrel and in turn propel the slug to speeds in excess of fourteen thousand meters per second."
"Yield?" I asked him.
"Significant."
"Don't be vague, I'm in a warzone right now, I need to know what I'm working with."
I could almost see the smile creeping up on Wilkins' face. "Tell Reaper-4 to fire at a Locust."
What?
"Uhhh, roger that. Reaper Actual out."
I ended the conversation and thought about what I had just heard. A Locust beam cutting through the roof of the watchtower I was on brought me back to life. I ducked and felt the heat on the back of my neck. That marked the third time that I had received burns while wearing my armor. Hell, my blisters had blisters growing up on top of them already. It would've probably been better if I just got raw skin.
"Sarge!" Snark yelled. "I'm running out of ammo and still don't know what I'm dealing with! This rifle is fucking heavy!"
Right.
"How the hell do I use this?" he went on.
I took a deep breath. "You aim and you shoot."
"I like it," Schitzo chuckled behind me, not even moving to help me up. "Simple, concise, to the point."
"Aim at something big," I told Snark.
"Big?"
"The biggest."
He caught the hint and mounted the M102 railgun on something before aiming at the Locust that had had the brilliant idea to fire in my direction. It was already climbing over the containers and taking aim at the last retreating marines. Those things look anything but fast, but they reached us with speed that I could only describe as surprising.
Suddenly I hear the loudest noise I have ever heard in my entire life.
For a moment I could see a flash of white light cutting the world in half, but that might've just been my imagination. The explosion blocked out absolutely everything else out there. The only thing I could still hear was the sound of my beating heart. I waited for that ringing sound and dull noises for longer than I was used to, and for a moment there I was actually scared that I had actually gone deaf. Sure, it could be fized, but I can't think of a worse time to lose your hearing than during a massive firefight.
The damage was as impressive as the noise.
As soon as the .30 kilogram tungsten round collided with the Locust's shields it obliterated them. The sheer impact alone crunched the cabin inwards and drained the shields completely. The kinetic force from the impact pushed back the walker a good two feet before the pilot managed to regain control. And then the thing just fucking blew up in a blue fireball.
I suddenly realized that it wasn't that I still couldn't hear anything. It was just that absolutely everyone was too stunned to make any noise.
"Whoa," Scarecrow said admiringly.
"Whoa doesn't even begin to get close to what that was…" Grass added quietly.
"Jesus fucking Christ. Cocksucking mother of a cunt!" Darbinian suddenly yelled. "Fire that goddamned thing again!"
And with that the gunfire started again.
There were only a few Covenant inside the first line, but they were coming in numbers. There were several turrets strewn about the wall, but not nearly as many as we had on the first line. The first ones to come were dropped in a second, but then they really started busting through.
There were a few other Locusts with the attackers as well, most of them were still behind, but a few had just started climbing over the first line. I smiled as a grunt detonated a mine, blowing itself and two jackals up. Then I went deaf again.
"Shit!"
Another Locust was hit, but this time the initial shot didn't manage to destroy it. The Locust struggled to stay up, it even collapsed on itself for a second before it got back up. A second Sledgehammer shot obliterated the cockpit of the walker completely, killing the pilot in the process and rendering the platform completely useless for anything other than cover.
"Sarge, they're starting to hide behind the tents," Scarecrow warned.
"Angel, fire through them," I ordered. "Crow, I want you to run out of forty mils as soon as humanly possible. Snark-"
With another boom I saw a hunter explode. Literally, explode.
"Just keep doing what you're doing."
"You don't have to tell me twice," he laughed back. "This thing is amazing!"
"Yes, it also runs on ammunition," Grass reminded him.
"Let the kid have fun," Angel suggested.
"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." It was the first time I had heard Captain Veda Sharma swear. Granted, it was only 'fuck', but coming from a woman that was relatively quiet most of the time and spoke politely all the time it was shocking, to say the least.
"You heard the lady!" I boomed. "Cut the chatter."
And with that, I started firing my trusty BR55. Snark and the other two marksmen had brought their rifles with them. Sure, Snark was using an incredibly overpowered gun instead of his usual SRS-99, but the other two were cutting through the ranks of the elites with relative ease. Snark was instead dedicating himself to killing Locusts and shredding hunters. I tell you, you have never seen an explosion of gore until you see a hunter get hit with a railgun. They just… disappeared, leaving behind their shields, often with a huge hole right in the middle.
"Shit, rangers are hopping over the wall!"
The alarmed marine that had warned us about the elites was immediately shot by the Sangheili. I moved all the way to the other side of the tower and fired at the elites. They were gunning down any unprotected marines and setting a small perimeter, but there were only eight of them. They were all wearing that gray armor of theirs, three were firing at a couple of marines while the rest dashed for cover.
"Gotcha motherfucker," I whispered as I let out a burst at the elite that seemed to be commanding.
The three rounds hit it in the side of the head, forcing it sideways. It let go of its weapon and used its other hand to keep itself upright, but by that time I had already fired again. The second burst hit it in the shoulder, the third in the waist. As its shields flickered and died I put three rounds into its neck and chest, killing it. I quickly switched targets and gave another elite the same treatment. As soon as that one died I tossed a grenade in between two other rangers and ducked behind cover. As soon as the small explosive detonated I left cover. The two elites were battered up. One missing its entire lower body and the other one its arm. I finished up the second one with a burst to the chest.
"Shit, Banshees again!" Scarecrow cursed.
"Sharma!" I cried. "The SAMs."
"We're out Castillo," Darbinian shot back. "Tell your man to shoot them down."
I sighed. "Bumblebee?"
He sighed back. "On it."
The Scottsman fired two rockets from his Spanker. The first one followed one of the Banshees and the second the other. The two guided missiles collided with their targets, detonating upon impact and destroying the aircraft. That left another Banshee for us to shoot down with small arms.
Boom.
Or with a railgun, you know.
So far it was going well. We were dishing out some heavy damage while behind solid cover and keeping the covvies cautious. By then most, if not all, UNSC ships were already out of range and ready to leave the system. We could've fallen back, but we didn't want an AA Wraith that we hadn't spotted shooting us down or a lucky Locust beam cutting a Pelican in half, killing everyone inside. Besides, we weren't going to give up one more colony without bleeding their fucking noses.
"Francisco," Eliza's voice pinged in my helmet. "Sensors indicate that the battlecruiser is preparing to move, in all likelihood it's headed in your direction."
"Goddamnit!" I cursed. "Anything else?"
"There are also a pair of Seraphs headed in your direction, they don't seem to be carrying any bombs, so strafing runs is likely the intended strategy."
"Thanks," I told her gratefully. "Captain, you hear her?" I asked Sharma.
"I got it," she yelled back over the sound of gunfire. "Everybody, fall back to the third line!"
Shit, already?
"Castillo, I want you and your team to cover the rest of us."
"Roger that ma'am," I spat out. "We'll do our best."
I bite my tongue to repress the urge to explode at her. Technically speaking we are outside her jurisdiction, so she had no right to order us around. Granted, she could've pulled rank anyways, but it pissed me off regardless.
"Reaper," I called out. "I want you manning every intact gun you can, Snark, aim for the Locusts only, hunters we can deal with."
The sound of gunfire started getting quieter and quieter as the surviving marines of Echo started falling back to the third, and last, line of defense. Eventually the only sound that was left was that of five machine guns firing everything that they had at Covenant infantry. Occasionally a mine would detonate and take out a couple of aliens or Snark would fire his Sledgehammer. The purple walkers had been all but obliterated, with the Locust unit reduced to less than a tenth of their original numbers. Meaning that there was only one out of eleven Locusts left. The other ones had been shot down by Snark or killed by combined fire.
We had been extremely lucky that we got a railgun, otherwise we would already be either dead or flying back home with our tails between our legs. The Locusts had been caught with their pants around their ankles, they didn't expect magnetic weapons firing at them, especially one that packed more punch than even a Warthog-mounted Gauss could. They had used their regular swarming technique, this time it hadn't work nearly as well as they could've hoped.
That left hundreds of regular infantry and dozens of vehicles. And the third line was the weakest one.
"That's the last of 'em!" Snark announced after firing his rifle. "I have seven rounds left and this gun is dead weight Sarge!"
I fired a burst at a fuel rod-toting grunt. The alien fell to the ground with a ballet-like spin right after firing one of the green explosives. Unfortunately, the fuel rod round flew straight towards the sky, hitting no aliens.
"I copy Snark, as soon as you run out fall back and toss the M102 in Marina's Pelican, ONI'll probably want the prototype back."
"Got it. I'll focus on the-"
Of course, as per usual, I was untactfully interrupted by a mortar shot hitting the wall, melting through the polycrete and leaving a sizeable gap through which the infantry could pour in.
"On the Wraiths it is then…" Snark groaned.
"Scarecrow, how goes it?" I asked my friend.
"Not good."
Shit. "Sharma?"
"Just a little longer!" she shouted back, her voice ringing in my helmet.
I cursed as I turned back to face the waves upon waves of covvies. They had deployable covers strewn all over the place. Grunts were using the bodies of their dead comrades to create barricades. And two Wraiths were coming right at us.
"Hunters, to the right!" Caboose warned.
I could see as the tracer ammunition moved in the direction of the beasts. The rounds pinged of the hunter's shields as they crouched behind the heavy slabs of metal. A few bullets actually managed to hit the unprotected parts of the hunters while the aliens fired at the offenders. Half my squad had to let go of their weapons and duck as the Covenant attackers fired everything at them.
I switched to full-auto and aimed at one of the hunters. I let out my breath as the crosshairs rested over the huge alien's orange neck. I lightly squeezed the trigger as I struggled to keep the rifle stable. The rounds hit the hunter right where I had been aiming at, the unprotected neck literally exploded as the hunter's head was severed from the body, orange gore pouring out everywhere. I kept firing at the orange target until the hunter collapsed, falling to the ground.
The other alien was pissed, after all, I had just killed half of it, so it was pretty much a natural reaction. I emptied what was left of my magazine at it while one of my squadmates grabbed his machine gun and pounded it into submission.
Then I realized something.
"Snark!" I cried out, dashing out of cover and making my way to the stairs.
Three blue bolts hitting the cracked column in front of me. I ducked as another burst flew over the place where I had just been standing. I cursed as I tried to get up, the Wraith had already spun to face me, I didn't have much time left.
"Snark!" I repeated.
"Shit," he cursed. "Sarge, get out of there!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I dragged myself to the edge of the watchtower, plasma hitting the polycrete all around me, leaving black scorch marks. As soon as I reached the edge I pushed myself up and jumped out of the tower. I was just in time too.
Had this been a movie, the scene would've been played in slow motion, with an angle of me jumping taken from the side, showing just how far from the ground I was, a couple of plasma bolts would've probably been added for effect before the camera angle was changed. Once I was in between the camera and the tower the mortar shot would've detonated behind me in a slow motion explosion. Cue regular speed again.
Actually, it was pretty much like that, except that I wasn't flaying my arms and legs wildly like they usually do in the vids. The mortar hit my tower just as I was jumping out of it, and there were a few plasma bolts flying past me.
In fact, one of them hit me in the back of my left shoulder.
"Fu-"
I hit the ground pretty hard, but I was prepared for that. I rolled, dropping my rifle for better mobility. Once I was out of the roll my own momentum caught up with me and I slammed hard into the ground. Both my ankles hurt like shit and my legs were numb from the impact. I tried getting up only to have a piercing, burning pain force me to fall back down. I stretched out my right hand and used my legs to push myself towards my rifle. Once I grabbed it I rolled on my side slowly, trying to spot anyone from my squad.
I saw Snark's tower shake and a sonic boom emerge from inside as he fired his Sledgehammer at something, presumably the Wraith that had taken out my tower. I saw the silhouette of the marksman struggling to unmount his rifle before climbing down the tower's ladder, jumping out halfway down, just as two blasts from hunters' cannons obliterated the small construction.
I made an effort to sit up just as the remaining Wraiths started emptying their plasma stores at the wall that impeded their pass. Pieces of dirt and pulverized polycrete started flying all over the place as the tanks repurposed their main weapons to serve as demolition devices.
I did my best to ignore the hell around me and reached into one of my pouches, careful not to hurt myself. My boots had already tightened around my ankles, forming temporary splints until I could get better medical attention. My back, though, I would have to work on that for a little more. I grabbed a combat stim and took off my helmet to swallow it. Right after that I took three painkillers. The effect of the medicine was instantaneous, after all, they were designed to work fast.
The pain in my shoulder started receding and I poured some biofoam into my hands, feeling the light stings in my pores. I reached around my shoulder and rubbed it on my wound.
Not even all the painkillers in the world could've dulled that stinging pain that I was all too familiar with.
"Sarge!" Scarecrow shouted.
I turned around to see the huge ODST running at me.
"Get down!"
I dropped to the ground just as an energy sword sliced through the air. Had I been standing where I was I would've been a head shorter.
I immediately rolled to the side, avoiding a thrust from the elite and eliciting a spike of pain from my burnt shoulder as the raw skin touched the hard ground. The elite pulled out its sword from the ground and snarled at me, its mandibles spread open. I rolled again just as it stabbed. I got out of its immediate range before it decided to slash down at the ground.
The Sangheili was zealot class, the armor configuration and helmet design told me as much. It looked bigger than most elite, and unless I was going deaf (which is a viable concern), it was also a whole lot quieter.
The alien's shields flickered as several rounds pinged off them. It snarled again and fired at Scarecrow with a plasma pistol it produced from its thigh. The Helljumper dropped to the ground and avoided the first two shots, the following ones hit him in the right leg and the belly. By that time I had my rifle up and let out a burst at the elite.
It reared backwards from the impact and I took advantage of that moment to stand up. I fired another burst at it, but the zealot threw its pistol at me, hitting my rifle and deflecting the shots. By the time it was in my sights again it was already upon me. It grabbed my rifle and yanked it away from my grip in one swift motion. It followed up the disarming with a punch to the belly. I managed to get both my hands in the way, muting the impact but still getting hurt.
Mr. Zealot slashed horizontally at me, but I ducked the strike by leaning backwards as much as I could without falling down. Bumblebee later told me that I pulled off a Matrix Dodge. Don't ask me what that is.
As the sword flew above me I reached for my pistol. I fired three shots at the elite before I had to jump sideways to avoid an over handed strike. Then I got a backhand blow to the shoulder. The injured one. I was thrown off my feet by the strike. I didn't hear anything crack, but that might've just been my temporary deafness acting up. I landed pretty hard, rolling twice before coming to a stop.
Someone pulled me back on my feet before I could even think about doing that myself.
That someone happened to be the zealot.
I got hit in the face pretty damn hard by the alien, the lower left part of my visor cracking slightly at the blow. The fact that it could damage ballistic plastic with a half-strength blow spoke volumes about its physical abilities. Immediately after the zealot slapped me it grabbed me by the neck and lifted me up until my feet were struggling to touch the ground. It drew back its sword arm but stopped abruptly when I emptied the rest of my pistol's magazine into the hand that was holding me up.
It looked at me curiously as I fired at its hand, a look of annoyance in its eyes. It drew back its hand again but stopped before stabbing me. The last round from my pistol had gone through the drained shields and its armor, forcing it to drop me to the ground.
This time the look in its eyes wasn't one of annoyance, but one of pure rage. It roared at me, that's right, roared, not snarled. An actual, honest to God roar.
I aimed at it and pulled the trigger of my pistol twice, realizing that I had emptied it on the elite as it made to stab me.
Only to stop abruptly again.
I watched in amusement as my rifle bounced off the back of the elite's head, thumping loudly and jerking it forward before falling to the ground next to my foot. I looked up just in time to see seven feet of armored muscle slam into the elite head on. Scarecrow tackled the elite in such way that would've probably given his quarterback brother a career-ending injury.
They both crashed into a pile of crates. I forced myself to look away and reloaded my pistol before reaching for my BR55. The adrenaline flowing through my veins had made me all but forget about my recently acquired injuries. I moved towards the elite and saw that Scarecrow was on top of it, hammering it with his huge fists. Scarecrow moved faster than anyone his size should've been able to, but I wasn't about to complain.
Suddenly the elite caught one of my friend's fists. I aimed at it but refrained from firing lest I hit Scarecrow. The zealot jumped up, dragging my friends hand along with itself. As soon as it was on its feet it grabbed my friend from under the arm and threw him at me with its full strength. I didn't have any time to react as my squad mate flew at me in an awkward half-turn.
You know I mentioned how hard Scarecrow slammed into the elite, right? Well, he slammed me harder.
"Fuck," I moaned as I rolled from underneath Scarecrow.
I saw the elite reach for its discarded sword and turn to look at me. I fired at it, hitting it in the waist and belly before it turned and ran away for cover. Before it had taken three steps it flickered and disappeared. I fired several more shots at the dust it raised, and once I saw a splatter of blood, but the zealot didn't reemerge.
"Sarge, you aigh?" Scarecrow mumbled, trying to get back his bearings.
"No," I replied honestly. "But that's the norm."
"Over here!"
What?
I turned my neck around to see a squad of marines moving towards Scarecrow and I. Two of them took a knee and fired at the destroyed wall, forcing the covvies to keep their heads down. Four other came at us and helped us up. I thanked them and told them that I could walk just fine without their help. Scarecrow tried taking one step, but his shot foot gave way from underneath him.
His armor seemed to have absorbed the plasma pistol shot to the stomach, but his foot hadn't been so fortunate.
"What the hell are you still doing here?" Darbinain spat at me. "You were supposed to fall back!"
I resisted the urge to clock him in the jaw. Don't ask me how, but I did. "Well, you should know!" I shouted back at him.
"Hey," one marine interrupted. "Where'd that zealot go?"
"It took off," Scarecrow said as we jogged towards the third line, a few of the marines providing covering fire for us before following us.
"You hear that?" Darbinain suddenly asks.
I did.
I spun around and kicked the asshole lieutenant in the chest. It was probably a little bit harder than it should've been, but I did managed to succeed in my goal. He flew out of the way and into one of the few remaining containers in the port. I, on the other hand, used his mass and weight to propel myself in the opposite direction. An energy sword sliced in between my boot and Darbinian's chest.
"Zealot!" I yelled as I fell down.
The elite roared once again. Apparently I was really starting to piss it off.
The entire squad turned around to fire at the alien, but by that time its shields had regenerated and it could take some punishment. It slashed at a marine, but the girl was smart enough to stay out of reach. Immediately after finishing that attack it turned around and zoned in on another marine. The man was too slow and was stabbed by the energy sword, the twin points of the weapon slicing through his upper chest and throat.
He let out a gurgle before the elite yanked out his weapon.
Scarecrow fired at the elite from where he had been dropped. The zealot grabbed the body of the dying marine and threw it at three other jarheads that were firing at it before slashing through another one. The unlucky soldier moved out of the way just a little bit too slowly. The white blade sliced through the MA5 he was carrying and through his left hand as well. The zealot took off as the marine screamed in agony.
"Fuck you!" I yelled angrily after it, firing a burst at the elite. I saw its shields flicker as they absorbed the rounds and then it disappeared.
Darbinain fired a burst at the elite as well, but didn't hit the invisible warrior. He looked at me and said nothing before heading towards his soldiers. He checked the vitals on the marine that was stabbed, a futile gesture, but a humane one nevertheless before helping the one that got his hand chopped off up. The poor man was crying for his mother by this point, blood flowing out of his stump.
"Grab the hand," Darbinian ordered, "we might still be able to reattach it. Let's go."
The third line was our weakest. I said that before.
Echo had already dug in the trenches that they had just built minutes ago. The trenches were barely chest-deep at the most and had to be reinforced with sandbags. Hell, half of the holes weren't even connected. The other half were barely three feet deep.
Shit, it was better than nothing.
"Frank!" Grass yelled from over one of the trenches. "What happened?"
Great, calling me by my name, people will think I'm sleeping with her too…
"Nothing, we're fine."
Suddenly I could feel a pair of eyes boring into the back.
All right, all right. "I was hit, so was Scarecrow. Foot and stomach, back of the shoulder for myself."
"Sheeit," Angel said, elongating the word. "You ok?"
"I'm walking, that's good enough considering. 'Crow?"
"Just pump me some biofoam and then give me drugs, that oughta do it."
"See?" I asked as I stepped in the trench with the rest of my squad in it. "We're good."
"Thank God," Grass preached. "I thought you were gonners when you didn't return."
"Yeah, about that Grass," I said, taking off my helmet and sitting behind cover. "I don't mind you calling me Frank, but you might want to call me Sarge in this kind of situations. I wouldn't want to give people the wrong idea." I said it carefully and with a friendly tone, after all, I didn't want to come off to her as an asshole. That alone showed how much I had come to respect her in the past year, usually I didn't care how I came along to people.
"Beat me to the punch there, Sarge," Angel said while propping up his SAW on a sandbag.
Grass just blushed a very deep shade of purple before polarizing her visor. "Sorry, won't happen again."
"Aight."
Nobody moved or said anything.
"Well what the fuck are you waiting for?" I asked. "Someone get me some fucking biofoam. Scarecrow as well! Snark I want you sniping things, find a nice position, Bumblebee, find some nice cover, we can't afford to lose our rockets. Caboose…" I looked at my squad mate. His right hand was covered in blood up to his elbow and his armor was almost completely painted with bloods (?) of different colors. "Yeah, you just keep doing what you're doing."
"Sarge," he acknowledged.
"What do I do with this?" Snark asked, gesturing at the M102 Sledgehammer weapon in his arms.
The rifle was longer than a regular SRS-99, that is to say that it was taller than I was and almost as tall as Scarecrow. Its cannon looked pretty much like that of a Gauss cannon, completely cylindrical and with groves at equidistant intervals. The stock of the weapon was larger than usual, no doubt in account to the massive amount of recoil that the weapon provided. The body of the weapon was rounded and futuristic-looking. It was best described as overall oval in shape with a big hole in the middle. Two bars extended outwards and secured the barrel, to the body of the weapon. The barrel itself had a million recoil dampeners and even some springs to reduce the force of impact on the user's shoulder.
"Throw it in Marina's Pelican," I told him again. "Shoulder sore?"
"Whole chest sore," he said bitterly. "I can barely move without pain shooting through my body."
"Take some painkillers," I ordered. "I want everyone at their best."
A couple of plasma blasts landed near my foxhole, prompting me to sink further down in an attempt to avoid getting shot. Again. Half the marines from Echo were here as well, the other half were either dead or wounded. Thankfully, a majority of the missing marines were wounded ones and were being loaded into a pelican for quicker evacuation.
"Captain, what's going on?" I asked Sharma, referring to the sudden lack of plasma fire.
"They stopped behind the wall," she explained "They are using it as cover, half of it is a pile of rock, but they don't seem so eager to attack now."
"We scared them," Scarecrow mused. "At least enough to make them think twice about their strategy."
"Running at a fortified position without support? They calling that a strategy now?" Bumblebee asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
Angel chimed in. "No support? I assume that Wraiths, Banshees, and Locusts don't count."
"Not when you have a railgun they don't." Snark was decidedly proud about the role he played in the previous attack. The man was practically beaming, for God's sake. I didn't blame him in the least, I had managed to kill maybe one or two walkers without support, but I always had Pavel's back and rocket or grenade launchers. Snark had pulled that off with exactly eleven Locusts.
He would never shut up about that.
A chain of explosions de-railed my train of thought.
"What the hell was that?" Captain Sharma snapped.
"Wraiths," a marine replied, "but the shells aren't landing even close to our location."
"They're targeting the base," Caboose offered. "Think they know the nukes are there? Or maybe they just want to take out the biggest buildings?"
"Doesn't matter," yet another marine spoke out. "Nuke number one is offline."
"Crap," Sharma muttered. "We've still got two."
Then they started shelling the other base.
"Is one nuke enough to take out the cruiser?" Scarecrow asked me.
"Oughta be enough, I speak from experience."
He looked at me and chuckled, he then tried to stop because of the pain it caused him. Scarecrow groaned a few times before the pain went away. His stomach armor wasn't destroyed or punctured, but it was half molten and it was pretty evident that it hurt him even if the round hadn't punched through. His foot? I don't even know how he could run all the way back here after the zealot attacked us, the man had an incredible pain tolerance.
"They're targeting the other base," one of the marines that had previously spoken said. I swear, some of these guys are experts at pointing out the obvious.
"Is the nuke still in working order?"
"Ye- No."
"One oughta do it," Scarecrow said.
"As long as the shields are down," I added.
"So let me get this right," Darbinian started. "You want us to wait for the carrier to be on top of us and then detonate a nuclear weapon just as it charges its main gun? You feel secure enough to time that right?"
"'Course not," I replied dismissively. "We would still be within the nuke's range."
Several marines could he heard snickering all over the network. My team wasn't nearly as reserved and actually chuckled loudly before Captain Sharma ordered the rest of us to be quiet.
"I want you ready, marksmen, watch out for any heat signatures, I don't want anything sneaking up on us."
I sighed and reloaded all my weapons. "Scarecrow, you sure you ok?" I asked him, concerned for his well-being.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure? We can send you back to a Pelican and have you looked over."
"No, I'm fine."
"No one will think any less of you for it," I insisted.
"Sarge, this is my job, I'm good at my job because I do my best at it. For a lawyer that would mean some sleepless nights, for an athlete it would mean to risk his physique in order to triumph. For me? For me it means that I just have to keep kicking ET's ass no matter what."
"Easy there, no battlefield journalists attached to this company," Grass teased while playfully punching him in the arm, the action elicited a groan from the huge man. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm so sorry."
"You know what?" I said. "I want you to have three more painkillers."
"I had two already," he told me.
"Then have another four," I ordered sternly. "I could order you to go back, but since you want to do this you're going to have to do it by my rules."
"Fine," he grumbled.
I nodded in approval and peeked out of cover, making an effort to keep my wound from touching anything too hard. The Covenant cruiser was a lot closer than it had been when I last saw it. The ship was moving awfully slowly, but it wouldn't matter if it fired at full strength. From where I was I could see the fins and make out the various carved designs. It was too damn close.
"We're going to need to pull out soon," Scarecrow murmured. "Even if we don't get to kill any more covvies, we can't afford to have that cruiser get any closer."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Knowing those bastards they'd probably just kill their own troops."
"Negative," Grass said. "There's a zealot here, I doubt that they'd kill such a high-ranking officer so freely."
"You never know, might be a junior officer is looking for a quick promotion…"
"Anything's possible," Scarecrow chuckled.
"Where's the third nuke?" I suddenly asked.
"Inside that container," Grass informed me, pointing at an old-looking green container. It looked like the sea breeze had taken a toll on this one, there was so much rust all over it that it looked like it could fall apart. Grass went on. "They couldn't move it because it could break any time while they were transporting it. No one wanted anything important to get crushed, so they left that one there."
"And those ones?" Scarecrow asked her, pointing to the half a dozen containers where we had been attacked by the zealot for the second time.
"Not sure," she shrugged.
I could not fathom why she had the exact details on the reason why a single isolated container wasn't moved but had no idea why a pile of them had been left right where they had been found. Grass had a penchant for knowing stupid things that left even me eating her dust. Not that that was a bad thing, Pavel was up on my ass half the time about wasting his brain's storage space with useless factoids. Grass had now replaced me in that role.
"Sarge, I've got heat signatures in my scope," Snark informed me.
"Roger, what do you see?"
"Over there, Revenants are forming up, it looks lik-" he paused a second before I heard the sound of the Covenant craft firing. "Everybody get down!"
I could, hardly get down, I was sharing a pretty small trench with a tall girl with armor and a huge man with more armor. Scarecrow and I turned on our side while taking our hands to our heads. Even before the first Revenant shot landed I heard several others being fired. The onslaught lasted several minutes, with pink plasma landing all around us.
Luckily, not one round landed near enough to cause any harm, but the explosions lifted enough dirt to leave all three of us half-buried in our trench. I didn't like the feeling, it felt like I was hiding in my own tomb.
"They're stopping," one of the snipers said.
"Bad news," Sharma immediately yelled, apparently she was alive enough to know what was coming. "Everybody ready for a charge!"
The strategy dated back to the Napoleonic Wars. It was really pretty simple, you shelled the enemy for a while, leaving them dazed and confused, and then you charged at them. It had been perfected in the First World War, where shelling could last for hours at a time. The attackers would hope to catch the enemy unawares in their charge, but everybody soon realized what was going on and took positions right after the artillery stopped. It had been abandoned for more than five hundred years before the Covenant brought it back. They actually managed to make it work sometimes.
Right now, I had a feeling that we were about to be overwhelmed.
"I can't see anything!" someone yelled.
"Get me out! Get me out!"
Those were the last human words that I heard before the attack started.
I struggled to get myself from underneath all that dirt, finally succeeding when Scarecrow grabbed me by the chest piece and pulled me out. My raw shoulder was stinging from all the dirt that had gotten in it.
"Thanks," I told him before I yanked Grass out. "Give 'em everything you've got."
Grunts were the first to attack, but that was exactly what we expected. The little aliens would try their best to overwhelm us. With marines as disciplined and talented as Echo, they would most certainly fail. The problem here was that we were already halfway through our ammunition reserves. By the time the bigger aliens decided to attack we would run out of ammunition.
That is a very bad thing.
First victim got a headshot, and so did the second one, and the third and the fourth. The poor aliens were doing their best to sprint with their stubby little legs while carrying their methane supply and heavy pistols that were way too big for them. No doubt they were under threat of execution if they refused to charge at us. I don't really know why they hadn't rebelled already, they would die either way.
I ran through three magazines before the grunts stopped coming.
"Captain, we need to fall back now," I pleaded for a third time. "The cruiser is almost overhead!"
"Negative," she replied. "I am not leaving this planet until I absolutely have to," she informed me for the third time. "We are taking as many of them as we can."
"At the cost of your own men?" Scarecrow joined. "We can leave now and detonate the nuke from afar."
"We are heroes in the making!" Darbinain defended his Commanding Officer.
"This war has too many damned heroes," Scarecrow snapped back. "And all of them are dead."
I've had enough of it by that point. "Captain, I'm ordering my team back, they don't need to die because of your stupidity!"
"Stupidity?" she asked with indignation. "I am merely following orders."
"You can only take orders so far!" I insisted. "You're a good officer and you did your job, time to go home."
Captain Sharma was quiet for the briefest of moments. "All right, goddamit but alright, Echo, fall-"
A single beam rifle shot coincided with her sudden silence.
"Shit, the captain's down!"
"Goddamit," Lieutenant Darbinian cursed. "Fall back, Alpha and Bravo cover Delta and Charlie."
"And who the hell covers us?" the lieutenant from Bravo asked angrily.
"Castillo?" Darbinain asked, the question evident.
"Fuck you Darbinian, fuck you." I waited a second. "We'll do it."
"Thanks," he said. It took him an awfully long time to let out that single word.
Lances of jackals were already bearing down upon us, firing occasional shots as they closed in on us. The grunts were walking slowly behind them, packed tightly to avoid getting shot from the corners. The elites were hanging back while taking potshots at us with carbines or plasma rifles.
"Snark, third jackal pack from the right," I ordered him.
A single sniper round hit one of the jackals in its toe. The large caliber bullet tore off half its foot and brought it to the ground. Scarecrow immediately fired a grenade at the gap before the jackals next to their fallen comrade could close it. The explosion killed four of the bird-like aliens and two of the grunts in the back. Grass and I peppered the survivors with automatic fire. A few seconds after Snark took out the first jackal the entire lance and grunt squad behind was dead.
"Same thing, group to the right."
Snark fired a second round, this time he hit one of the jackals on the edge of the wall of piled-up shields. Scarecrow's grenade slammed into the bird next to it, killing it and its neighbor. I fired at the stunned jackals while Grass emptied what was left of her magazines on the grunts behind. The rest of the jackals reacted quickly and turned slightly so that their shields faced us. I stopped firing after a few rounds bounced off the colorful energy shields.
When the jackals turned, they left their flank exposed to Snark. He fired two shots, taking out five jackals. The high-velocity bullets went through the aliens' bodies with ease. All five of them collapsed to the floor with huge gaping holes in their sides.
"Shit, one more and I would've broken my record," Snark mused.
"Charlie and Delta are ready," a lieutenant said. "Albatross taking off."
"Bravo," Darbinian ordered. "Fall back to the Pelican."
"Got it," the lieutenant said. "We're down to sixty percent of our strength, we can probably take a Pelican ourselves."
"Do it," Darbinian conceded.
The lieutenant from Bravo couldn't wait to get away from this rock. I didn't blame the man, but he could've been manlier about it. You know, less of a coward.
The trench adjacent to ours had a heavy turret mounted. The gunner was pummeling the jackals and grunts with it. In fact, he was doing such a good job that a jackal sniper took note and rewarded him with a shot between the eyes. Snark quickly took out the sniper, but the deed was done.
"Scarecrow!" I shouted.
"On it."
My friend jumped out of the trench while Grass fired several bursts at the grunts and jackals. I busied myself taking out the elites that had left cover to try and attack us. Scarecrow reached the turret, yanked the loading lever and started firing immediately. Half his body was outside of cover, so he crouched as low as he could, but his enormous size still made for a highly visible target.
"Bravo is ready to evacuate!"
"Go," Darbinian ordered. "You fuck," he added under his breath.
I took cover and looked behind me as I saw another Pelican take off. It did a one-eighty turn to face us and boosted towards the covvies, strafing them with its main frontal cannon. The heavy rounds killed many of them and injured several others. As the pilot turned his craft around one marine fired the rear turret wildly, hitting a few grunts and jackals in the process before the Pelican sped away at supersonic speeds.
Shit.
"Scarecrow watch out!"
He jumped backwards just as a plasma grenade detonated a meter from his turret. The explosion tore the gun itself from its tripod and collapsed it on top of Scarecrow.
"Now I'm really pissed off."
"We're falling back," Darbinian informed me. "Just hold on a little bit longer."
Had it been anyone else I would've acknowledged or promised to do my best. Darbinian just pissed me off, so I ignored him as I concentrated my fire on an elite trying to rally a group of grunts and jackals. Four bursts were enough to take out the alien, sending its underlings into disarray.
"Sarge, I'm out of ammo," Snark told me.
"Go!" I ordered. "Caboose, Angel, with him. Bumblebee, still got missiles?"
"Just the two," he replied.
"Use 'em," I said. "Then leave."
"Shit, they're getting close!" Grass yelled, she sounded like she was on the verge of panic. "We can't hold out much longer!"
"Goddamit," Scarecrow roared. He jumped from cover and grabbed the turret from where it was he took a knee while plasma hit everything around him and positioned the body of the automatic weapon on his knee. Once he believed the weapon would be steady enough he depressed the trigger.
The recoil was enough to almost knock him back, but he used his weight and sheer strength to keep the gun in check. The hail of gunfire cut through a group of Covenant that had gotten too close and sent several more running for cover, wherever they could find it. They had gotten confident when they realized that we were retreating, many of them had paid for that confidence with a face full of lead and a body full of holes.
Did I seriously just write that?
"Grass! Get out of here!"
For once, she left.
I stood up as well, firing full automatic on the covvies as Scarecrow burned through his ammunition.
"Let's get out of here!" I yelled at him.
The man slowly stood up while firing short bursts, he somehow managed to lift the heavy machine gun all by himself and keep it steady while he fired it. Two plasma shots hit him in the shoulder, but the heavy plate stopped them in their tracks. Another blue orb collided with his helmet, but hit his enhanced optics, leaving him mostly unharmed.
"Drop the thing and run!" I yelled while reloading.
Jackals and elites were approaching from all directions. They looked so pissed off that their shots were barely flying straight, instead they looked like they wanted to kill us with their bare hands. They jerked backwards as the bullets hit them, but their companions didn't seem to mind the blood splattering them. I hit an elite in the face, blowing half its head off. The jackals behind it merely jumped over its body, firing wildly while trying to get at me.
"Crow!"
He pulled the cannons of the AIE-48H and kicked at an elite lunging at him. The stunned alien barely reacted as my friend jammed the three barrels down its throat and fired a good, long burst. The sheer amount of gore, blood, brains, and bone was enough to make my stomach lurch.
Scarecrow tossed his gun at a jackal and drew his pistol, firing three rounds at it. I could only do my best to keep aliens off of him while he fell back. Something that he seemed like he was in no rush to do.
"George!"
His actual name seemed to snap him back. He fired the rest of his pistol at an elite, draining its shields and allowing me to kill it with two bursts before turning around and sprinting away. I fired a couple more bursts and followed suit. I was faster than him and I quickly overtook him. I did my best to hunch my back and make myself a smaller target. Several rounds flew within inches of me, leaving black scorch marks on my ODST armor.
"Hurry up!" Caboose cried out from Marina's Pelican. "I can't fire until you're here!"
I looked over my shoulder and spotted two jackals that had stopped and were taking aim. I stopped, turned, and downed them both before returning to my sprint. Scarecrow was now running parallel to me, firing his MA5 blindly. I joined him, emptying my magazine. As soon as my weapon clicked empty I strapped it over my shoulder for added protection. It hung loosely and shook since one of the magnetic plates had been damaged when I was shot in the shoulder blade, but it didn't fall down.
"Come on!" Caboose yelled. The Pelican was already lifting off.
I took two steps and jumped, barely landing on the cargo bay. The rear turret started roaring as Caboose mowed down the waves upon waves of crazed covvies. I heard a huff as Scarecrow landed. He tried to hold on to something as he slid down the opened hatch. I turned around and grabbed his arm, stopping him from falling down.
Somewhere along the road he had taken off his helmet, the side of his face was bloodied and scarred. He looked at me and actually smiled a little before I started pulling him up He used his other hand to help me before suddenly going limp as four needle rifle rounds hit him in the waist and lower back. He looked down at them in horror a second before they exploded. The explosion, bright and pink, severed both his legs and destroyed a good chunk of his torso.
I looked in shock as his severed legs fell to the ocean below us and felt helpless when I saw that his intestines were falling out of the huge wound that was his entire lower body.
Scarecrow looked up at me, his eyes dull and lightless. "Let go," he croaked. He stopped holding on to my hand a second before his vitals went flat.
I cursed and punched the hatch before complying with my squad mate's last wish. I watched as his body fell to the Lambarian ocean and winced when it hit the water with a loud splash that could be heard all the way over here.
"Sarge," Bumblebee said quietly. "The cruiser is preparing to open fire."
I looked at the CCS-class battle cruiser to confirm this and nodded. "Close the hatch Marina, that's enough wasted ammo Caboose."
The ONI-employed Helljumper looked at me before cursing and punching the wall. He let go of the turret and the hatch closed, sealing the Pelican's bay. A small window allowed me to see the huge spaceship powering up its weapon right on top of its own allied infantry. I stared at it for a second before connecting to Eliza. "Liz, Sharma's dead, I need you to blow the nuke."
"Of course Farncisco," the AI replied mildly.
I was momentarily flash-blinded as the nuclear explosion engulfed the ship and port completely. I could feel the Pelican speed away at supersonic speeds. I cursed before punching the wall. It didn't hurt nearly enough so I punched it again, and again, and again. By the time I was done my gloves were useless and three or four knuckles in my right hand were broken. Nobody in the squad said anything, they just looked like they were in shock.
"Let's get out of here," I told myself. "As fast as we can."
Thanks to Sniper Fodder for proof-reading this chapter.
You asked for it, you got it. I was thinking about doing it and also got some reviews and PMs suggesting that I kill of a character. So I did.
There is really just one more thing to say. The idea for the rail rifle, the M102 SASR, also known as the Sledgehammer, goes completely to TheDyingTitan it took me some chapters to write it into the story, but I think the sheer badness of the gun was worth the wait. At least for him, the rest of you guys had no idea that I was going to use something like this. Now, in case you didn't notice, I am not what you'd call a scientist, so I have no idea how a railgun actually works. I took a quick crash course on the thing (thank you Wikipedia) and did my best to remain accurate in the scientific matters. I probably failed.
Now for the usual goodbyes, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and actually felt Scarecrow's death, I think he was a pretty likable character to begin with, but that's a death sentence in this kind of cruel world. If you didn't feel at least a little bit bad, then you are wicked harpies. Or my writing isn't nearly as good as it should be. Both are equally likely, this is the internet after all.
Well, that was an unusual usual goodbye.
Stay strong.
-casquis