New Mombasa
01030 hours, local clock
Uplift Reserve Wildlife Park
ODST Corporal Taylor Miles, aka " Dutch ".
Rwawwwwwwwwwrrrra !
It was the growling roar of jet turbines that finally got him awake.
Rwwwwwwwaaaaaaaarrrrra !
The interior of the pod shuddered hard, enough to go right through the lone Helljumper .Even inside the SOIEV, and the heavily reinforced layers of his helmet and armor, the vibrations of multiple, low altitude jets had reached Dutch, and it was enough to snap him fully back into consciousness. Or, into more of an alert state than he'd been in a second ago.
By reflex, Dutch began to pivot toward the distant rumbling-only to then find out that he couldn't. Something was folded and wrapped around his upper torso, clamping down and keeping him in place.
Oh, right. His crash harness. Sometimes they were knocked loose by the hardest of impacts, but on most of them, they held together. With the clamping tightness around the base of Dutch's arms and down his sides, Dutch didn't have to wonder if his had given out on him.
It was only then, that he actually began to realize how rough of a landing he'd had, with the suddenness of becoming fully awake-like having a bucket of frigid water tossed into his face. Dutch's mouth was filled with dust- or at least it sure had that kind of sensation all over it.
Jets...
Why am I hearing jets ?
Is the Air Force finally out of bed today...?
Had he been completely knocked out ? Or just semi-conscious ? Dutch couldn't tell which it was; all he was sure of right now, was that he was completely aware of his surroundings, and that he didn't remember being so after he'd landed...and given how many landings he'd experienced over the course of his career, for this one to stand out so much said plenty on how much of a skull-rattler it'd been.
He couldn't have been out for long, given that there was a lot of light coming in from the outside. Late morning or noon, probably. Aside from that, through a badly splintered mess of a SOIEV hatch, Dutch spotted what looked like a wide patch of sand...with waving blades of grass off on the right.
Where the hell am I...?
Well, he wasn't taking fire...and there wasn't anyone or anything directly outside that he could spot. ODST arrivals in daytime were usually getting blasted a lot sooner after hitting than now, so if nobody was pouring plasma into him yet, he'd somehow slipped in unnoticed.
There was a mildly coppery taste in his mouth, and a slightly stinging point of pain. It seemed he may have bit his tongue...or somehow managed to slice something in there. Waves of dizziness, and more than a tad bit of muddy disorientation was wrapped around him, like he'd woken up from a full night's sleep ( whatever that was ) . The ODST was definitely somewhat out of it right now, that was for sure. It reminded him of the day he'd first experienced a genuine orbital landing impact during training with the 340th...way back in the day.
Graceful or not, I'm here...and I'm alive. Got to get to work..
Can't fight from inside a SOIEV, after all...
Dutch made an effort to move his arms, and found they responded- slightly stiffly, but they were operational at least.
The same went for his hands. Every movement wasn't as quick as normal, though they fluid enough to let him get ahold of his harness' release clasps. Without having to do it more than once, he begin to undo them.
Damn, that was a bruising touchdown. Better do a gear check before I step into the mixer
Got to see if I can raise Gunny, as well..
That sense of staticly-popping lightheadedness was still clinging to him, but if he could hear jets- the Covenant didn't use jets- that told Dutch that he sure hadn't landed in some dusty, remote rear echelon sector. Spotting that Supercarrier on the descent alone had been plenty of a hint that he was going head ( or rather, feet ) first into a red zone-typical and par for the course for an ODST. Getting thrown into adverse situations was common enough for them by design, let alone by accident.
He pulled the harness loose from his shoulders, and shrugged them free. The movement revealed there was considerable soreness...pretty much all over him, but that wasn't enough to be a real problem right now. He still had mobility, as he immediately made to check that his M7S was still securely tucked into his armor.
It was. Dutch examined the SMG, found it was still working, then repeated the process of find-and-make-sure-its-not-busted for his M6S sidearm. Once again, the result came up green.
So, at least his guns were good to go; he didn't need to bother checking on his combat knife, which he could tell remained snugly slotted into its sheath on his chestplate. A blade didn't ever lose reception, needless to say, or lost the ability to carve something up because it'd gotten slammed around from an orbital drop.
Last but not least in his arsenal check, was the top shelf item: The M6 Spartan Laser. It took up most of the left side of the pod, but when Dutch pried open an access panel on its EB-green colored sides to find out if it was still operational, he didn't care-once again- how bulky was.
Survived the drop. You're ok...you're ok.
All that was left now was priming the explosive door bolts, so Dutch got to it. After several seconds, all of them were prepped and green lit, so he pressed himself against the rear of the pod, then hit the activator.
With a Bwaaaaang , the bolts did their job, sending the hatch sailing away. Instantly, bright white sunlight streamed in, but Dutch's helmet faceplate automatically responded by turning up the polarization, shielding him from the mighty glare.
Time to get in the game. The ODST let himself slide into that old frame of mind, the one that had seen him through the past 20+years of combat against the Covenant. It was time to focus on being a Helljumper again, ignoring whatever scheming strings ONI might've attached to him.
Need to get my bearings, pronto
Grasping the M7 in both hands, Dutch stood, and flicked off the weapons' safety. A second later, he then leapt over the SOIEV's threshold.
The ground under his boots was firm, not giving much when he landed. Now that he was free of the pod, the ODST had a better view of his surroundings, and he quickly scanned it, with one finger resting beside the raised M7's trigger.
Nobody had been shooting at him, so he didn't exactly expect to find a Jiralhane bearing down on his 20 right now. Still, as he looked around him, Dutch was amazed at how...tranquil the area was.
He'd evidently landed on a beach-an actual, genuine beach.
Tan-gold sand stretched out in front of him, for about a thousand yards or so, before it curved off to the right and out of view. To Dutch's left was the expanse of water that was obviously the Indian Ocean, while on the right, a jumbled mass of jade green foliage towered about 20 or so feet high, marking the edge of jungle.
Oh, and on the horizon, the building-block silhouette of the New Mombasa downtown skyline stood out clear as day. The orbital elevator wasn't there, but if it'd been knocked down ( and you would need stupid levels of firepower to achieve that ), then there'd be columns of ash and dust that could've been seen even from here.
Having studied the holo-map of their DZ prior to leaving Say My Name, Dutch was generally certain he now knew where he was:
The Uplift Nature Reserve Park !
Of course. The map had shown everything, and they'd had plenty of time to examine it. Dutch recalled from the pre-drop map session that there was a large park just like this on the west side of the south peninsula of NM, right by the orbital tether. There'd been sat imagery of the area aside from the holorgraphic ones, and Dutch remembered seeing plenty of heavy jungle lining the waterside as being included on the parks' grounds.
The real problem with all that was, though, was right around when he was getting to examine it more closely, that ONI spook had turned up and shanghaied them into her mystery op.
But, what in God's name had happened to everyone else in Alpha-9...?
" Comms check, comms check. Gunny, are you receiving, over ? "
Switching on the squad's freq , Dutch sent out a transmission. Up on his HUD, he could tell that his comms was sending out a signal, but-
...
Nothing.
With his fingers still pressed against the helmet's transmitter, Dutch called out again, raising the volume by a few notches. " Gunny ! Its Dutch here. Are you receiving ?!. Over. "
He switched to receive mode himself, waiting for an answer. Again, though, after several seconds, there was nothing.
There was a complete lack of activity on the squad freq. Barley even clicks and crackling sounded in Dutch's ear.
Something must be gumming up the works. He craned his neck up at the sky, but there was none of that bluish hue that been all over the place when the carrier had jumped. Instead, the sun was out, and there were clumps of white clouds scattered here and there.
If there was some kind of interference stopping signals from going back and forth, then it wasn't because of that EMP-bomb effect, courtesy of the Covies' dumb slipspace move. There was no telling what was stopping the rest of the squad from hearing him...
Aside from the worst, that was.
On a brighter note, though, Dutch wasn't alone. He'd heard jets a minute or so ago...so where were they ? At least the Air Force had to be in town, and despite all the shredded hulks of destroyed UNSC ships he'd gone past during freefall ( the sight of which always stung deeply ), Dutch knew that Marine forces must've been deployed already from elsewhere in Africa as soon as the Covies began to make planetfall on Earth. If the response at Reach had been fast, then the reaction to aliens on Earth would be downright greased lightning with a side of avalanche.
Rwwwaaaaaaaa-!
RWAAAAAAA-!
From somewhere behind , on right, and above him, the growl of an approaching jet craft suddenly became detectable, and only got louder and louder. Something was coming in, and quickly.
More friendlies inbound..! Pivoting that way, Dutch glanced up at the sky, searching the pale blue for the oncoming plane/s
.A few seconds later, a pair of dark specks shot out of a cloudbank, leaving pretty white contrails behind them, as they sped along on a course that would take them right over the beach. They weren't close, but judging from their compact, jagged outlines that were already distantly visible, they were probably F-99 Wombat recon drones.
Flying cameras, that's what they are. Which is helpful, sure, but I'd prefer deadlier backup...
...if there is any.
" Quite a hurry for a bunch of un-gunned robots ", commented the ODST.
Sending anything unarmed in the same AO as the Covenant was always a dangerous game. They would as readily shoot you dead no matter how much firepower you were carrying- or none at all.
" It ain't safe this neighborhood for the likes of you... "
Fighter bombers on station or not though, the UNSC was still in town, and if they were sending multiple flights of recon aircraft into the area, then a ground operation was in the works, if not already underway. Recon wasn't done on areas you'd pulled out of entirely, and weren't prepping to go back into soon. Or, ones you were already committed to.
Joining a ongoing UNSC assault was a pretty good ( at a minimum ) chance at tracking down the rest of the squad. After all, as capable as ODSTs were at operating on their own, that was only to be done as a last resort. You were always more effective with the rest of the team- not to mention your higher survival odds.
It wasn't the original plan of boarding the ( now non existent ) Covie carrier, but rendezvousing with the rest of Alpha-9 was always going to high on his priority list, no matter what ONI wanted. Even standing around on this beach, nice as it was.
He'd done that long enough; now he needed to get a move on already.
Ok...
Having a plan of action in hand, along with a fully loaded M7S, was enough to satisfy any ODST, at least basically. It wasn't likely that ONI would've clued them in on what " classified, but we promise its vital " mission they had in mind for Alpha-9 ,anyway. Dutch would've followed his orders on that " plan " regardless ( unless it began to reach typical ONI levels of scum ), but now that he was isolated and cut off, he had to take things into his own hands.
ONI's op could wait. He was going to find his team, right now.
Taking his eyes off the sky, Dutch faced the wall of plants, and began to stride forward, while keeping the M7S raised. There was still no hint of movement yet, but that could change in a flash. A cloaked Elite could easily hide himself in the shadows of all the densely packed foliage, along with a whole squad of his buddies.
Wouldn't that be a problem, and then some...
Zeroing in on the trees, Dutch saw no sign of them ( thankfully ), and as he entered the , he was in among the heavy vegetation, brushing through the rustling leaves and blades of grass , as he continued on his way inland. All he could do right now, was head toward where the drones had been going, and see just how remotely stranded he actually was. New Mombasa was no backwater village on some frontier colony, though, and Dutch knew he'd have plenty of ground to cover if it turned out he was miles from the nearest friendlies...well then.
Linking up with the rest of Alpha-9 could be a tad tricky.
Just a tad, at the worst, God willing.
But, if he was going to get out of this Xeno-infested town alive, then he was going to bring his squad with him.
Dead or alive, he was going to find them.
" WARNING: ELECTRIFIED FENCE "
" ACTIVE CURRENT. STAY BACK "
Somehow, the posted warning was still readable.
That wouldn't be anything to write home about, except that a hunk of severely mangled metal, as long as a school bus and roughly a yard thicc, was sitting squarely across the width of the perimeter barrier. There was a gap completely and fully smashed open, giving an easy assess route in or out.
It wasn't alone, either. Stabbed and smashed into the ground all around it were more pieces and loose bits of more debris, scattered about as haphazardly as possible. There definitely wasn't any doubt that all this...detritus, had fallen out of the sky.
Shame it didn't land on a Wraith...I don't have infinite ammo for this laser I've got
The hefty slab of scrap metal had some serious scorch marks all over it-telltale signs it'd dropped in from space. Its surface was the gunmetal ash color of Titanium-A armor plating, which could only mean that it'd come from one of those Navy vessels currently hanging shattered in orbit.
A quick, molten twinge of anger shot up Dutch's spine, and pulsed down through to collect in his legs. Ever since the decimation at Tribute, the Navy was as much his kin as any ODST, and coming across the charred remains of one of their ships so close up was a reminder he could do without.
The rage was helpful, though. As if he needed more reason to kill Covenant.
Damn Covies...The Navy's taking the whole fight against them on the chin.
Demons.
Slotting that anger into the metaphorical back pocket, Dutch maintained his grip on the M7S,and walked up to put a boot on the fragment's leading edge. Stepping fully onto it, he headed all the way up the length , before stepping off once he reached the end.
As he strode ahead, Dutch saw that the jungled area he'd been going though up till now was beginning to open up. Somewhat; there was still plenty of foliage ahead and around him, but out ahead, about a few dozen yards, the terrain changed to an open plain, without a mass of trees immediately visible.
He couldn't make out much past the rest of the plants in his way, though, with the overall thickness of them still pretty obscuring. After pushing forward for another half minute or so, however, Dutch emerged out onto landscape that a lot more room.
As in, a lot more. If the jungle behind him was all elbow-to-elbow and more or less boxed in, then the plains he'd just strolled into was flipping a switch.
In every direction, knee-high tan grass rolled out, carpeting a series of gradually sloping hills, with jumbled collections of dusty-grey boulders sitting at the base of them. There weren't any trees that he could see, but there were some stumpy bushes/shrubs growing in their own separate clusters, like the way cacti would in the Sonoran.
God, I need an M12 to cover all this...
Taking in the scenery wasn't the point of looking around though, needless to say. Dutch was in the neighborhood for friendlies-even Army ones.
But, there was nobody in sight. Given that the area immediately in front of him was nothing but grass, bordered with one of the boulder piles , it'd be hard for anyone to avoid getting spotted...unless they were a Sanghelli playing hide-and-seek with their cloak tech.
The ODST was always on the alert for the way the Hinge-Heads liked to sneak around, but he still hadn't detected any. It was one of the few blessings he had right now, though of course...having his squad at his back was the one he was after, but it seemed he'd have to put in his own legwork to make that happen.
Lord's not making this easy...
" Where are you, Gunny.. ", he muttered, glancing methodically from right to left.
They hadn't answered their comms, sure, but maybe there were others in range who could. The sky didn't all that glowing blue...static from the supercarrier's jump floating around in it. Maybe that had been blocking calls from longer range...and if the squad was that badly scattered, then their own comms weren't reaching him either.
But if there was anyone else nearby-
Wait a second..
Off toward the east...that was automatic gunfire.
Dutch stopped, then reoriented toward it, concentrating.
Yeah, it definitely out there. That was about all he could get from the distant echoes , but that was definitely MA5 fire out there. And where there was MA5 fire..
Plasma. It wasn't as noisy, and tended to get drowned out, but that didn't matter. There was activity going on close enough to him- a full on firefight, no doubt.
" Any callsigns receiving...any callsigns receiving, this is Corporal Taylor Miles, ODST Squad Alpha-9. I've set down on the southwest side of Uplift Reserve. Respond if able, over. "
" Repeat: Any callisgns receiving...any callsigns receiving, this is Corporal Taylor Miles, ODST Squad Alpha-9. Respond if able, over. "
Now he knew there were friendlies in the AO. Fresh adrenaline seeped into his blood, so he went on the comms again.
"...Hey ! Hey, Corporal Miles! Can you hear us ?! "
What ?! Someone actually got that ?!
A slightly breathless voice sounded in his earpiece, compounded by the always-present popping of radio clicking. Somewhere in the background, there was the whine and crash of plasma fire. Decently heavy plasma fire to boot, not to mention the chattering of MA5 rifles.
Slotted in between the weapons discharges was the all the usual yelling and shouting, not to mention the cussing.
Dutch hadn't actually been pinning that much on getting a response, let alone so quickly. Granted, there were the drones that'd gone past before, and he'd suspected that there were UNSC forces in sector, but successfully contacting them...
It was a surprise, sure, but a welcome one.
Blinking off the shock, Dutch nonetheless replied. " Roger that- I read you ! Who is this ? "
" Private Kivec ! Magma Company, 15th Battalion ! "
Doesn't sound that shaken up...good, good.
Canadian...I think
" Ok, Private...what's your 20 ?! "
" We're...Hang on, Corporal- !"
" lieutenant ! LT, I got an ODST on the line ! "
So, they got an officer who's still vertical, Dutch noted. That could prove very helpful indeed...or an absolute disaster, depending on how competent he was. Judging from how at least some of his squad was still alive and fighting, though, perhaps he wasn't utterly useless.
God, he'd better know what he's doing. For their sake. He owes them that much.
" Say that again, Private ! You said an ODST ?! "
" Yes sir ! A Corporal Taylor Miles ! "
After another few seconds, and the giveaway muffling rustle of the receiver getting handed from one speaker to another, a new voice replaced Kivec's.
"Corporal Miles ! This Lt. Gorman. You read me ?! Confirm, over !"
" Affirmative, sir ! ", Dutch answered.
Not as scared as I thought he'd be...
" Reading you loud and clear, Lt. ! Over".
Emphasis on loud; the intensity of the Covenant and UNSC fire in the background had tapered off minutely, but there was still a steady stream of it going back and forth. The volume of the firefight was jackhammering to the ODST, even over the comms.
Either it was a real firestrom, or the Covies were within spitting distance of the officer.
" Are you mobile, Corporal ?! Can you still move ? Over ", said officer asked. He spoke with a moderately noticeable Southern accent...slightly Alabama.
Dutch hadn't been shot-yet-, so he responded that he certainly could still walk. Or run, if that's what was needed.
" Roger that, Lt. Combat effective. Over. "
" Good, good...now where's the rest of your squad ?! I was told you're alone ?! Over."
"...Roger that, sir. " If Dutch could've said otherwise, he would've. Once again, though, that supercarrier's completely crazed choice to perform an in-atmo slipspace jump had made sure that he couldn't.
And we were headed right at her when she jumped...
"Just crossed the perimeter of the Wildebest enclosure, sir. I can hear fire in the distance; guessing that's you and your boys- "
" GRENADE ! GET CLEAR ! "
Icewater entered Dutch's blood, and he automatically was about to dive for cover himself, before realizing the grande was nowhere nearby. A half second later, it didn't matter, because a crackling boom gave away that the plasma bomb had already gone off.
Dutch glanced up, half expecting to spot a blue-white flash.
Lt. Gorman kept communicating, though- even as the stinging echoes of the blast died away. " Affirmative, Corporal. That's us ! We're engaged with several enemy squads, Brutes in command, over !"
Jiralhanae. Today is getting better and better...
" Brutes !? Sir, I have an fully charged M6 Laser; I can be at your position in less than 5 minutes ! Over. "
" Are you bullshitting me, Corporal ?! Over."
" No, sir ! I'll be there. ", promised the ODST. Gunnery Sergeant Buck always delivered on his promises to get his objectives done, and he'd succeeded in imprinting that into all of his men-even Mickey. If Dutch was going to say he was going to reach them, come what may, he would.
" Then I'll see you here by then-God help us both otherwise ! Out. "
The link was severed on that end then, and Dutch finally removed his fingertips from the side of his helmet.
Well, if that the Lieutenant could keep his head right after a plasma grenade had detonated so close to him, and that he was slugging it out against a gang of Jiralhane ( and the bunch of lackeys they always had with them ), let lone surviving, was enough to raise Dutch's opinion of the officer a touch more. On top of how God must've not wanted him and his unit to die quite yet, this Lt. Gorman obviously had some level of competence of his own.
But, knowing for sure would have to wait, till Dutch actually got there. And from the sounds of what had been going on over there, he was already on the clock.
As if he didn't have reasons to keep moving before, of course. Now he had even more.
Hang on, boys. All you got to do, is hang on
Taking his M7S firmly in both hands, Dutch turned the weapon over enough to double check that the safety had been disengaged, and found that it was. His MUD showed its magazine was full as well, with all 60 rounds . He realized he'd already begun jogging, at nearly a run, toward Magma Company's location, by when he began to check on his supply of grenades.
Sure enough, the 3 M9s he'd packed were still there. Reaching down and flipping open the pouches, Dutch counted all of them still where he'd left them.
Excellent...still got the pineapples.
All his gear was in order, and he had a mission to complete.
Driven as such, Dutch pressed on.
" Rawwwwwwwgh ! "
That was either a very angry Brute, or one that had just been shot. Or a very angry one that had just been shot.
Dutch had fought and killed more of them than he could count, but it was still hard to be sure what kind of primal roaring that was...not that it mattered that much in the end. All that wounded-bull bellowing simply gave away the alien's position, leading Dutch right to him.
Not that he was having a hard time of that at the moment; advancing at a crouch-run, Dutch rushed up to one of the trees that'd formed a line at the edge of the next open plain ahead, pressing his shoulder against it and raising his M7S. Sighting down its red holo-sight, he had a clear line of view right into the enemy's flank.
Said enemy was exactly as Lt. Gorman had said; about a dozen+ Covenant, over to the left of his position. The bulk of them were the stumpy Grunts, but sure enough...the hulking frames of multiple Brutes were clearly here and now.
No way you lardy bastards could hide even if you wanted...
The Brutes were doing exactly that: the exacy opposite of hiding, and instead firing volley after volley of Spiker rounds over the head of their shrieking Grunt forces. Following the outgoing spikes, Dutch finally got a visual on Magma Company.
A long, low crest of ground ran from the base of a jagged-topped mound of rocks directly across from Dutch, and behind that crest, he could observe the red-orange flashes of UNSC firearms. Green camo clad figures popped up from over it, ducking back down only to come up again seconds later.
Gotcha. In one way, sure..
It was then that the ODST brought up his M6 Laser, and began to draw a bead on the closest Jiralhane.
Squeezing the trigger, he listened as the weapon began spooling up. A low-pitch digital whine rapidly began getting louder, turning into that beautiful, constant piercing tone.
Staring down the sights, Dutch did his best to keep the targeting reticle centered on where he wanted the laser to impact.
He'd come ready for this fight. The bulky weapon had been dragged off this back about halfway here, and now sat comfortably on his shoulder. Heavy, yes, but that was fine. After all, it wasn't like you could fit this kind of stopping power into anything less than an M6, and to bring down a Brute fast and hard, you'd sure as heck need every bit of it.
God, steady my hand. may my aim be true.
"Lt. Gorman ?! This is Corporal Miles ! I have a visual on your hostiles; engaging now ! Over. "
The transmission was barely over before the laser went off.
A searing orange glow briefly obscured the center of the ODST's visor.
Dutch had been aiming for the nearest Brute, and a fraction of a second after the laser discharged, he was rewarded with the sweet sight of a hit. Blood red energy melted clean through the base of the Brute's head, accompanied at that exact same moment by-
- well, there wasn't that much blood. Energy weapons did have that tendency to cauterize wounds immediately. Still, it made for a good spectacle of the Brute's head getting severed completely, and then bouncing away while the recently detached body collapsed like a lamppost knocked over by a drunk driver.
Magnificent. One corner of Dutch's mouth tugged itself upwards.
Amazingly, the Grunts didn't even seem to realize one of their bosses was dead! Well, for the first second or so, anyway. Eventually, one of them did, and the usual chain reaction of panicked shrieking and aimless running all over the place began.
" Woah ! Jesus, Corporal, that was some good shooting ! "
Already in the process of swinging the hefty laser back over his shoulders, Dutch didn't answer. The shot had been plenty of a signal that he'd arrived, and besides: the Brute hadn't been alone..
" Reeagh !? "
" Aiiiiiiiea ! "
Overlapping howling and wailing erupted as the remaining Covenant spun around to where the laser had come from- or when it came to all the Grunts, just spinning.
The Brutes were more put together, though, and they immediately began directing streams of Spiker rounds onto where Dutch had hidden himself. Searing spikes shredded chunks off the tree's trunk, and even through the layers of his CQB helmet, Dutch could detect the whup-whup-whup-whup of them going past.
One of them may have grazed his left shoulder pauldron, but as Dutch clamped the M6 away, and began to bring the M7S to bear, he wasn't sure. More importantly, he didn't care. Either he wasn't hit at all, or he had been, but the pain wasn't setting in yet. If the latter was true, then he'd make good use of how long it'd take to actually do so.
Which was exactly what he did, by lining up a shot with the M7S, and mowing down a few of the Grunts with quick applications of fire each. As they collapsed and died, the ever-incoming MA5 fire from the crest of ground began to converge on the remaining Brutes.
MA5s were not the most accurate at range, and not as good as the BR55 at breaching shields, but put enough of them on the same target, and they could get things done. Dutch was leveling his weapon on one of them when the burly alien's personal energy barrier disintegrated.
Well done, gentlemen !
Staggering, the shield-less Brute soon recovered, and then promptly went full on berserk. The giant alien rushed Magma Company, though Dutch now found he had to split his attention between the apes; either shoot the one who'd gone crazy, or the one who was now ( again ) taking aim at him with a Spiker.
Dutch went to ground, hugging it. Propping himself on one elbow, he ignored the newest salvo of spikes, and shot at the back of the charging Brute. Spurts of blood marked hits, along with more from Magma on the legs and chest.
It was more than the Brute could handle, and with gasping growl, the creature toppled mug-first into the ground, bleeding from skull to ankles.
Gotcha. Now Dutch was free to handle the last Brute...
He rolled fully behind the tree ( or, maybe it was another one...hard to be certain ), checking his ammo count. The M7S was down to less than half, and with at least one Brute still in play, he'd need more.
Dutch's attention stayed focused ahead, as his hands went through the full reload process. Finishing it after several seconds, he hit the M7's charging action, then emerged from behind the tree-
- in time to spot something burning orange-white, with a long trail of smoke stretching out behind it, about a yard away from hitting the last Brute.
Jackhammer rockets ?! Christ-!
BWOOM !
Again, Dutch pressed himself low as he could, as the rocket struck the Brute center mass , blasting the alien to smithereens in a roiling explosion.
The ground shuddered beneath Dutch, armor or not.
When Dutch lifted his head, he saw that there was simply nothing left. Other, of course, than the towering plume of powdery tan-colored dust and ashy smoke that stood over where the alien had been. It seemed as if the Brute had just...evaporated.
Now that's a KIA
Don't care if you're 8ft tall and several hundred pounds...if you get tagged by a Jackhammer rocket to your gut, you're dead
Even better, as the ODST continued to look out over the area in front of him, he couldn't spot any more Grunts still standing. The ones he hadn't gunned down had gotten caught in the Jackhammer's detonation, and there was simply no living through that.
. Yep- Brutes and Grunts alike... they were all dead as well. Each and every Covenant in the immediate vicinity was dead and taken out.
Beautiful...we've cleaned house.
Area secure.
Dutch pushed himself up from the dirt, and then stood. He didn't not notice that his own pulse was shooting along at above resting rate ( and had been for a while ), and that he could definitely use a drink...maybe get rid of that parchment-esque layering in the back of his throat.
Glancing over at the spot on his shoulder, Dutch noticed a gouged out dent in the plating, clear proof of a Spiker rifle grazing hit. The metal was slightly warped, and scorched white from the heat.
Huh...they actually got close with that one.He'd been actually wounded before, but not ever by a Spiker round. Evidently, the good Lord decided today wasn't that day.
" Corporal ?! You still alive over there ? Over. "
But, that would have to wait. He'd borderline run all the way here, and gone head to head with a bunch of Brutes, all to RV with Magma Company, so that was next on the agenda. Slaking thirst could wait a few minutes.
Activating his radio, he responded to the Lt. : " Yes sir...still up, and still in fighting shape. Over. "
" You're ok, and you still got ammo for your Laser ? Over. "
" Affirmative to both of those, over. "
Dutch began to walk forward, descending the slight slope that led down to the opened up area where the firefight had been raging seconds earlier. He had to sidestep a holed Grunt, along with all the spilled cyan blood, as well as that separated Brute head, lying on one side.
I hope it hurt, bastard
" Approaching your position now, sir. You should have a visual on me. "
" I already do, Corporal. Coming up as we speak. "
Continuing on, Dutch watched as uniformed individuals began to appear over the top of the crest. The nearer he got, the more of them Dutch realized there were- about a dozen, give or take. One of them had the dual tubes of a Jackhammer rocket launcher sticking up from over the shoulders-the ODST made a note to say thanks to the heavy weapons operator for having good aim back there.
One of them, cradling an MA5C, had pulled ahead of the others, joined by one other, also carrying the Corp's standard issue rifle and who aslo had the whip-tin stick of a comms antenna , who followed a few steps behind
It was obvious enough that the one at the front had to be Lt. Gorman, or at least it was a reasonable guess.
So, this is him, then. Dutch automatically sized the officer up as he drew near.
The Lieutenant didn't have any obvious rank insignia, being an officer in a combat zone, but the Marine standing on his left did- those of a Private- so the process of elimination solved the rest. His BDU and armor were about as dirty as Dutch thought it would, with patches of grime and dust bordered by cleaner ones. As for any visible wounds and injuries...there didn't seem to be any on him. No bandages or bleeding gashes, but once again, the nearby Marine had something the officer didn't: a series of lightly bleeding nicks on the left cheek, surrounded by layers of dust.
Did he take that hit for you, sir ? You'd better not have outright hid...but I don't think so
And..a Private ? Is that Kivec ?!
All his initial assessments stayed under the hat so to speak, of course, as Dutch stopped in front of them. There was always the reflex urge to salute, but he suppressed it, and simply stood straight, as the Lt. finally spoke com-less right to him.
" Corporal Miles. I am Lt. Gorman-"
He indicated the Private standing attentively next to him, MA5 aimed at the ground.
" And this is Private Kivec. On behalf all my Marines and myself, that was impeccable timing. "
" No problem, sir. ". That last phrase could so easily have been sarcastic, but Dutch was an ODST; recognizing it was more than easy. Besides, even if it had been, you'd need more than that to be insulting...somewhat.
" Sure it wasn't, not for an ODST. ", the officer declared. " You're a Godsend, Corporal. "
" You might say that, sir. Right place, right chance. "
Dutch's next question was the one he knew the officer might not be the most eager to answer, but he had to get to it sooner before that became later. " How many casualties, sir ? "
He watched for hints of how severe it'd been in the Lt's expression, but they and the actual response were both the same
" But, tell me that this is wrong: You figured out how to recharge one of those Lasers in the field? I only saw one beam go out, so I'd say you have 4 more shots ? "
"...Roger that, sir. 4 more, and then she's dry. "
Not for the first time, Dutch really wished there was a solution for the issue of the M6's power source not being able to be refilled without those prohibitively cumbersome generators. The Jackhammer Launcher didn't have that issue, even though it was practically antiquated by comparison.
Speaking of Jackhammers, though-
" Sir, what about your rockets ? You low on those ? "
The answer he got wasn't encouraging. " That shot back there ? We were literally down to our last 2 rockets...now only 1. Corporal Jao is hungry for more, but I haven't found any to give her. "
Corporal Jao. The rocketeer. Dutch made another mental note.
" Got it...well, I'll help keep an eye out for any. That was some serious demolitions skill. "
" You're preaching to the choir, but you'll get no complains on that from me. "
He turned away, back toward the crest, while beckoning Dutch to go the same way.
" Even better: you can thank her yourself. Now that you're here, I have to re-org the unit before we begin our main push to get back on track to our objective. "
" Your objective, sir ?", Dutch asked. " Interrogative: What is it ? "
The Lt. paused, and looked back at him. " Trust me, Corporal: You''ll find out in a moment. "
"Now come on, both of you. "
Lt. Gorman strode off, leaving the private and the corporal without much option but to go along with him.
It was the corporal that had the fresh impression that the officer had actually done something toward earning his stripes. Dutch had run into plenty of different kinds of officers who were all kinds of incompetent, or downright useless in how they conducted their commands, let alone the ones who were actually good at it. Having now met and spoken with the Lieutenant, Dutch decided that, up till now, he couldn't justifiably call him one of the ones who was leading his command into a deathtrap out of ineptitude.
Granted, promising to reveal important information at a later date was getting dangerously close to ONI-tactics, but then again...he wasn't ONI.
Why do I think so ? Because these Marines are alive...and they haven't been scattered all over the place like dough dust in an Italian pizzeria, that's why. Doing otherwise would be confirmation enough that he was a spook.
Dutch's mental evaluation of the Lieutenant was interrupted then by Private Kivec speaking up.
" Hey,Corporal..got a second ? "
Looking right as he walked, Dutch depolarized his visor, and nodded affirmatively.
" Sure, go ahead. ". The private had managed to keep it together on the comms, and that level of control was still with him now. It seemed that Lt. Gorman wasn't the only one in the unit that Dutch had judged to be up to a worthy standard. Yes, he wasn't much more than a rookie, but not everyone who didn't have 15 years on the job wasn't made of sterner stuff.
" Thanks, ok..."
A second or so went by, then-
" What happened with the rest of your combat team ? Are they KIA ? "
His bluntness about Alpha-9 getting 100% annihilated should've been upsetting. Actually, it was, and another flash of anger burst to flood through Dutch all over again.
What the-?! What'd he say ?
But, nearly as quick as it came..it was gone. The rational section of the ODST's mind caught on that Kivec was curious, nothing more. An actual offense, this wasn't.
Wouldn't go unanswered if it was, that's for absolute certain..
If Kivec had realized the ODST had been momentarily molten lava, he didn't say anything, so Dutch went on with answering him. " Can't say for sure, Private, but I don't believe they are. Till I find out for sure what's happened with them, they're not dead. Not to me. "
" You think they're in the park somewhere ? " Kivec glanced around him, scanning the landscape.
" God willing, yes. But you'd better get this in your head, kid". Dutch told him.
" If they're in this city anywhere, then I don't leave until they do. "