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 | Posted On: 02/06/2010 At: 01:06:39 AM |
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-Sierra 071- (Karen)
Wind chimes danced on the light breeze, softly singing a happy melody she couldn't name. It was the same dream she always had, or rather, the same distant memory that never seemed real. She could see herself, running in a soft colored dress with no shoes, bright blond curls bouncing with every step, as other children ran with her, giggling in time with the chimes. Then a tall man would pick her up and kiss her, carrying her to a woman with the same bright blond curls, though the woman had brown eyes. She had green ones, like the man, but that didn't mean those brown orbs held any less brilliance. Something danced in those eyes, and the man's too, an emotion she had heard of many times; they loved her.
That was only a dream though. Soon enough, the Spartan woke, her eyes snapping open as an alarm sang a quick tune on her HUD. She tried to move, momentarily forgetting her Mjolnir armor was strapped to the seat, a smile coming to her lips at her foolishness. She wasn't used to sleeping during travel, it typically wasn't wise to do so, especially when heading towards a combat zone. Riding in the cargo area of a pelican was second nature by now, but with no other Spartans riding with her, 071 could only sleep to pass the time. The transfer was her personal request though so the lack of her squadmates, the absence of her brothers and sisters, was completely self inflicted. Now that she was awake and alert, a strange pang of loneliness sprinting across her mind, chased by her orders. As she often did, either when slightly nervous before a mission or just bored out of her mind, Spartan 071 started repeating her orders softly inside her helmet.
The pilot probably thought her odd, hearing the soft but firm voice of a Spartan behind him. He had almost refused to pilot a single person across enemy territory to the Delta forward base at the waterfall but when he found out his passenger was a legendary Spartan, it was impossible to resist. The man was slightly confused by the dark brown color of her armor, knowing most Spartans chose to wear the deep forest green of their commanding officer. Not that he was going to question her fashion sense.
Ten minutes later, the pelican landed at Delta base, the soft mist of the waterfall spraying 071 as she jumped out and onto the soft river soil. The gleaming visor of her helmet scanned the area, identifying the command building with ease, she strode confidently, catcing the eyes of every Marine. Some watched with fear; others admiration. She ignored it all. The only objective she had was to find Lieutenant Brooks and get briefed on the situation. If there was time, 071 would consider socializing later.
"So you're the Spartan UNSC sent to deliver us?" Lieutenant Brooks narrowed his eyes at the brown suit standing perfectly before him. He was visibly confused at the feminine voice that answered him crisply. The older man looked around at his subordinates with a slight grimace. 071 anticipated this response and ignored it; this wasn't the first time she acted as the first Spartan a Company had seen and she was certain it wouldn't be her last. Brooks grabbed the report a corporal handed him and thumbed it open, eyes flying over her battle records. They spoke well for her and the previous grimace was replaced by a grin that just barely covered the man's doubts. "Says you're designation is Sierra Zero Seven One, Karen. Which do you prefer to go by?"
Her lips twitched beneath her helmet, unsure which answer to give. Finally, that soft voice surprised the Lieutenant yet again.
"Just call me Spartan, Sir. I'm the only one here." Now it was her turn to be surprised as Brooks smiled.
"They didn't tell you?" his eyes darted just past her shoulder and nodded. "You have company."
Perplexed, 071 turned and came face-to-face with a Spartan sister she knew almost as well as she knew herself. They had been through almost every battle together, only separated when her sister was chosen as part of a strike team heading to fight the Covenant on one of the outer colonies while she stayed and defended Reach.
Long time, no see, Karen.
Too long, Cedes. Too long.
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| [ Edited by: Tater_Salad on 02/06/2010 9:45:10 PM ] | |
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 | Posted On: 02/06/2010 At: 05:58:18 AM | | | Reply Link |
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<Sierra 013> (Mercedes)
A worried Sergeant watched her enter the SOEIV, trying hard to keep from stopping her. Though their helmets were similar, only one was a Spartan while the other was an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, probably one of the best around. As she move to close the door, his hand shot out and prevented the action.
"There are safer ways! Things things have been known to fail, if ONI finds out I let a Spartan Helljump, and worse that she killed herself doing it, they'll do a lot worse than court marshal me!" Though Gunnery Sergeant Wallace couldn't see it, a wide grin spread over her lips, carefully concealed by the tint of her visor. She opened the door slightly, amusement in her voice.
"Sergeant, haven't you heard? Spartans don't die. They just go Missing In Action," with that, she shut the door to the SOEIV and prepared to drop. Unlike her comrades, 013 had taken a great liking to the Marine Special Forces known as ODSTs. They managed to teach her a few things: like how to have a sense of humor. She took a deep breath but frowned as the airlock released and the door opened again.
"Here, at least take this," the Sergeant held out his gun, a standard ODST M6S Magnum, a modified variant of her own M6G. She held the weapon carefully a moment before pulling her own Magnum free and handing it to the Sergeant. He took it and smiled, taking a step back. "Don't let my men know I did this."
Sergeant Wallace snapped to a crisp salute, that smile still in place. From where she sat in the SOEIV, 013 returned the salute, feeling slightly embarrassed at the formality, and that he was saluting her and not the other way around. There was no time for arguing the point though. As Wallace closed the door, he offered one last word of advice. "Give 'em hell, Swabbie."
The descent was as grueling as the ODSTs said, though it was more of a strain on her mind than on her body. It was the waiting, the same waiting she'd done for years shuffling back and forth between colonies, running on missions as deadly as dangerous as the last but with an increasing urgency. Each time, it became less of would her team be able to complete the mission and more of would her team reach the planet in time for there to be a mission. Countless months had been spent in cryosleep, all the while battles raged elsewhere. It was never clear how many of her brethren had fallen and that worry secretly ate at the back of her mind.
A sudden jolt and the SOEIV cleared the planet's atmosphere, descending rapidly towards the small target of Delta base. She smiled, shifting the controls from automatic to manual, just in case a Covenant Banshee or Phantom decided to try her patience. Despite Wallace's worries, she'd done several Helljumps over the years, she knew what to look for. One eye was fixated on her altimeter while the other kept the pod on target. She was planning on making a 'splash' by landing in the river next to the base but the air currents were moving her slightly off target. If all else failed, she would simply jump out. Her suit had been through far worse than a botched drop pod fiasco.
"Someone must like me today," she whispered to the control panel as the pod hit the fifty meter mark and began to rapidly decelerate, putting an enormous stress on her body, encased in the Mjolnir armor. It was almost reassuring, like the embrace of an old friend. Speaking of which, there would be another Spartan on this mission. Wallace gave her the news after coming out of cryosleep that another had decided to answer Delta's call. She wondered who would be foolish enough to accept this mission. Her thoughts were halted as she was suddenly upon the base, the river beneath her inviting as the pod finished it's final deceleration. A quick flick of her wrist and she diverted her landing spot just a few feet closer to the base, landing the pod in just under two feet of water. A few moments and the door popped off, landing a few feet away as 013 stepped out, striding towards the base with purpose. Though there were guards on duty, none dared stop her as she entered the base, though a few tries. Eventually, her eyes landed on the command building, after first taking notice of a recently used Pelican. The other Spartan had beaten her here. Damn.
Spartan 013 stepped lightly into the command room, instantly recognizing the owner of that dark brown armor standing at a rigid attention. Of all her brethren, Karen was probably the least likely to get killed on this mission. Something that would work out handy for the both of them. 013 wondered if Karen would recognize her. She had kept the midnight black color of her armor since their last mission together, but her chest plate was different. Not different as in a different model; the plate was two sizes too big, looked it, and was a deep blue color. Plus she had a different helmet than last time they saw each other and her armor was beaten to Hell, having withstood one too many grenade blasts.
"Long time, no see, Karen." 013 felt the urge to hug her sister, a thing she couldn't remember doing in almost twelve years. She brushed it off as an odd side effect of having a sense of humor.
"Too long, Cedes. Too long." Karen was the only one to ever address her like that. Her full name, 'Mercedes,' was too long to be used in combat situations. Most used her identification number, 013, while some used her rank, Chief Petty Officer, often shortened to Chief.
Sentimental reunions would have to be put aside though. Stepping next to Karen, 013 snapped a crisp salute before stating in a tone that was much harsher than Karen's soft voice, a welcomed change for the Lieutenant though he still held reservations about trusting the mission to two female Spartans.
"Spartan Zero One Three, reporting for duty, Sir."
"Well ladies, have either of you read over your orders concerning this mission?" It took effort to keep from laughing at the arrogant Lieutenant. Whereas Karen seemed adjusted to this behavior, 013 wasn't and found it rather comical. She further found it comical as the two Spartans recited their orders together.
Arrive at Delta Base and assess situation with Lieutenant Brooks. Assemble team and mobilize on enemy position. Collect intel on enemy troop count, position, and objective in the area, reporting any and all points of interest to base immediately. Provide defense for the base until full evacuation. Lure the Covenant into the base and destroy it, taking as many of those buggers as we can, Sir," 013 couldn't help but chuckle as she added the last line. Brooks seemed slightly amused though he tried hard not to show it.
"Very well. Both of you are dismissed, report back at fourteen hundred hours, which is in three hours' time from now. That's when your mission will begin. Until then, try stopping by the armory to get yourself some real weapons," his gaze lingered a moment on the Magnum at her side and a small smile twitched into place. Both 013 and 071 snapped crisp salutes before leaving, easily matching stride as they went towards the armory. First things first, she couldn't very well go on a suicide mission with only a Magnum, even if it was an ODST Mag.
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[ Edited by: Benz on 02/07/2010 03:05:41 AM ] |
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-Sierra 071- (Karen)
Spartan 071 matched 013's stride, carefully trying to word the question she so badly wanted to ask. There was something in her that knew she wouldn't like the answer but it was creeping there at the back of her mind. A small light at the bottom of her HUD blinked, awaiting her response. Her brows furrowed, slightly confused, until she realized it was 013 trying to link up. Slightly embarrassed, 071 keyed in the channel, causing the acknowledgement light to wink at her. It had been a while since she'd used the special squad function of her armor.
Don't tell me you've gone soft, running all those defense missions on Reach 013 teased, her helmet slightly turning as she spoke. Something about her had changed, 071 thought, trying to think back four years prior but found it difficult. Too many years of reviewing data, helping to weed out selections for the SPARTAN III program, keeping the secrets of Dr. Hasley as she stayed on Reach. Her own training days on Reach were much like the memory dream, so faint she almost forgot they were real.
Ralph wore dark blue, last I saw... She finally ventured, her soft voice seemingly out of place as Marines shouted out to each other. They were busy loading up equipment onto Guass Warthogs. Four were being prepared, which seemed to catch 013's eye. She slowed her pace a moment before moving on, returning her attention to 071.
Ralph is confirmed MIA. My chest plate was damaged by a Chieftain hammer, had to borrow his. There was a strong bitterness in her voice as she gave 071 the answer she feared. The soldiers all thought Spartans were unkillable. They were wrong, in a way, though ONI would never admit it. Confirmed MIA meant he was dead but his name didn't die. Not yet.
Will they ever... find him? 013 shook her head, now that they were upon the armory. The men on guard duty stood aside, lifting their arms in limp salutes, awe apparent in their eyes. It occurred to 071 that these men seemed very skittish, almost like they were green recruits. As they stood at parade rest in front of the armory desk, the Sergeant behind the desk seemed intimidated as 013 asked for whatever they had to spare. They were trained to use enemy weapons so the likelihood of them returning with the weapons they were about to be given was pretty slim.
"Uh, this is all we have, Chief," the Sergant replied, putting two Magnums, a Sub Machine gun and a Battle Rifle on the desk. The Spartans exchanged a glance, and despite their faces being completely covered by their helmets, knew exactly what to do. It made her feel slightly guilty, first taking one of the Magnun and stowing it, the Battle Rifle feeling like a lost friend in her hands. 013 took nothing except an extra round of Mag ammunition. She was slightly more experienced on the battlefield; 013 knew getting her hands on Covenant weapons would be necessity.
Stepping back outside, 071 gripped the Battle Rifle a bit tighter, rather unwilling to wait another two hours and fourty minutes. She was more than ready to fight.
Easy, Karen. Trust me, there'll be time enough. Let's go meet our team.
After you, Chief.
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| Posted On: 02/07/2010 At: 06:42:48 AM | | | Reply Link |
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<Sierra 013> (Mercedes)
"Easy, Karen. Trust me, there'll be time enough. Let's go meet our team."
"After you, Chief." 013 frowned, though she stepped lively enough towards the barracks. She didn't like that she outranked her sister. This made her leader of the mission, not that she minded, but it felt... weird. When she was originally whisked away, she'd served under one of her other brothers or sisters, always the second-in-command of the given team. This worked out well for her, kept her focused on protecting her team rather than leading it. Her mind drifted back to Randall and that doomed mission, forced to report him MIA as she led the team back to the ship. It was a grim trip back and she caught Hell for trading her chest plate for his. It was her job to protect him and the rest of the team, she had only looked away for a second, maybe less, to make sure Maria was still alive. They'd come under heavy fire and she was badly wounded. Randall was busy rigging a stolen Banshee to support the weight of three Spartans... she never saw the Jackal until it was too late.
And now that job fell to 071, to Karen. 013 squared her shoulders, shaking off the momentary self doubt that plagued her. There was a mission, and one she planned on seeing through to the end. She wouldn't have to worry about Karen taking over.
They entered the barracks and quickly surveyed the area. three groups of men were assembled, each group shocked at the appearance of two Spartans at the door. It took a moment for it to register and the men slowly saluted, slightly shaking. It didn't seem to surprise her; in fact, she expected it. Delta base was far flung from the rest of Human occupied territory, a nightmare for supply lines and even worse for reinforcements, leaving only raw recruits while the battle hardened fighters waged war the the front lines. The base had outlived its tactical advantage and needed to be destroyed, that was the reason the Spartans were there, and to use it as a launching point for a decisive strike against Covenant forces on the planet.
"At ease, Marines," her time with the Helljumpers taught her a bit about the way Marines typically handled Navy personnel. Friendly wasn't the word for it but that could change, if given the right motivation. The most important tool: good manners. "I am Spartan Zero One Three, Chief Petty Officer. Behind me is Spartan Zero Seven One, Petty Officer First Class. Who is commanding this unit?"
"Uh, that's me," a young man stepped forward, looking up at the Spartan who stood a good foot and a half above him. She looked down at him and tried to memorize his face. Light brown hair, deep brown eyes, lightly toned skin; this man would be the key to turning these recruits into real soldiers. If only she could get him to stop shaking. "Corporal Thomas Jackson at your service, Ma'am."
She chuckled, gently patting Thomas on the shoulder. Karen shifted, expressing her confusion at the gesture, but 013 paid it no mind. She had learned to loosen up, slightly. Just slightly.
"Don't call me Ma'am, Corporal. Just Chief, or Zero One Three. Formalities aside, it's time you were briefed on the mission. The main objective is to protect the base during evacuation and subsequently destroy it. However, there are a few secondary objectives that we will be expected to complete. We will need each of you to accomplish these tasks. Zero Seven One?" 013 stepped aside as Karen stepped up to address the men. She was a bit rough with the objectives, straight forward and blunt almost to the point she felt the need to take over. It was obviously putting the men on edge, being informed they were to launch a direct assault on the Covenant to draw them towards the base. Then again, they couldn't be babied. They were about to head into the fight of their lives. Once Karen finished, she keyed the private COM channel. "They seem jittery, nervous. We'll need to calm them down before we launch. Do you know any jokes?
Jokes? At a time like this?
You would be surprised what acting 'normal' can do for a soldier.
With all due respect, we are soldiers. These guys are more like... they're just kids!
We were too, once... she thought, reflecting back on those days on Reach, training with Mendez. Back when they were all alive... Shoving the thoughts aside, 013 returned her attention to the soldiers assembled before her. Her eyes settled on the smallest man of the group, black hair and eyes, and a baby face. She pointed at him, beckoning him closer.
"You. What's your name?"
"P-private Nguyen, M-Chief," he answered back nervously. She nodded, pointing to the next man, until each had introduced himself.
"Good, now that that is all squared away, I will remind you that we load up in two hours and take off in two fifteen. We'll leave you to your preparations. 013 turned and headed back towards the door leading to the rest of the base, 071 following close behind. At the door, she stopped and turned back to the group, giving them one last line before disappearing outside. "Oh, and Marines... Oorah!"
"Was that necessary?" Karen asked as soon as they were outside again, sounds of the Marines returning the call making it through silenced as the door closed. 013 chuckled.
"Absolutely."
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-Sierra 071- (Karen)
071 shook her head, smiling despite herself, walking back towards the command building. However, she wasn't too keen on seeing the Lieutenant again. Her armored boots stopped, sinking slightly into the soft river mud as 013 turned, looking between her and the command building.
I don't like him either, Karen. 071 never thought she'd be so grateful for having another Spartan around. No explanations needed, they could almost read each other's mind, invaluable during missions like these. With a swift nod, the two Spartans changed course, heading towards the river just outside the base.
Think a third Spartan is en route? From their first mission on, the Spartan II's had worked in teams of three or larger. Having a third Spartan would be ideal but the slight shrug of 013's armor didn't give her much hope.
I wasn't aware a second was en route, so I suppose it's possible. Most everyone is with the Master Chief last i heard. I doubted he would send one away, but it's possible.
I wasn't aware you were on the way either. Was there a mistake at ONI?
013 shrugged, not quite sure what to make of it. Perhaps there was a third on the way, one who didn't know about either of them. It wasn't something to dwell on though. While a third Spartan would ease her anxiousness, 071 was more than capable of accomplishing the mission on her own. They had two hours until the mission started and without anything else to do, they would have to find a way to pass the time themselves. They reached the river, where 071 eyed the SOIEV with slight disdain.
Those things are deathtraps you know. Is that why you were left all alone on Sigmus? ONI thought you joined the Marines? 071 lightly teased, chuckling as 013 sighed, crouching down to start fiddling with the engines. 071 lifted the Battle Rifle, checking the sights and condition of the weapon while 013 did her project. However, 071 quickly grew impatient, setting her sights on the command building once more. Think they'd let us start eary? This waiting is killing me.
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| Posted On: 02/09/2010 At: 07:36:13 AM | | | Reply Link |
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<Sierra 013> (Mercedes)
"Heh, You aren't the first to question my fashion sense. Let's just say I earned this helmet, alright?" 013 worked diligently on building her makeshift bomb. With only Guass Warthogs to use on the mission, and the larger bomb designed to destroy the base, they would need to create their own method of drawing Covenant attention away from their present entrenchment. After a drop, the ODST's method of transport became a large, metal egg, filled with parts and a bit of unused fuel, which all combined for form a nice explosive so long as she had decent aim to trigger it, or a grenade. As she'd only dropped with two on her belt, her Magnum would probably be the easiest way to trigger the bomb.
Karen was asking questions, a bad habit she probably picked up from being on too many Reach escort missions. Then again, she always was the chatty one, at least before a mission. It was how 071 expressed her eagerness for combat, a thing every Spartan had, though they all expressed it differently. 013 looked to the sky a moment, wondering about the third Spartan 071 mentioned. Who would they send? She prayed for Linda; that talented sniper be the perfect addition to their team considering the conditions. Of course, she was away with John and the others, doing the toughest missions with the greatest risk. In comparison, this assignment was a milk run, which was the only reason neither Spartan expected the other to show. Three weren't needed for this, only one could pull this off.
"You know, they just might. The Lieutenant is rather eager to see us gone, he probably wouldn't hesitate to send us packing a bit early, 013 hefted the makeshift bomb onto her shoulder, standing up and motioning towards the base. "However, the men need the time more than we do. We'll just have to wait until fourteen hundred. I'm sure we can find something to do to pass the time.
"Like what?" the irritation in 071's voice was obvious. She hungered for the battlefield; a thing 013 recognized as being very, very dangerous, to both the enemy and their allies. Scanning the base, she found a quick solution.
"How about we roll out the welcome mat?"
-Two Hours Later-
The two Spartans stood in the sun, their armor gleaming as they watched the Marines load up in the Warthogs. There was a noticeable amount of nervousness in the Marines as they loaded their gear. 013 didn't notice, solely concerning herself with strapping the makeshift bomb to the back of her Warthog. She preferred to man the gun, especially on missions like these, but found the dire need to protect her cargo outweigh that preference.
"Good to go, Chief?" Karen was already strapped into the second Warthog. There was a smile in her voice much like the smile 013 wore herself, beneath her helmet.
"Looks that way, Spartan. Wait's over. Time to kick some Persians," 013 hopped into the third Warthog and waited, letting the first with the Marine driver leaving first before Karen tore off after him, 013 bringing up the rear. The Warthogs sloshed through the river and bounded up the bank, tearing into the jungle in a noisy, roaring fashion. Intel had been foggy at best when providing visual confirmation of the enemy encampment. As usual, it was up to her to see with her own eyes the force she had to contend with. A crackle and her COM clicked on, a voice she rather had no liking for came screeching across the channel.
"This is Lieutenant Brooks, come in Sierra Zero One Three and Sierra Zero Seven One. Spartans, do you copy? Over." With a roll of her eyes, 013 keyed the COM.
"This is Sierra Zero One Three, reading you loud and clear, Lieutenant. We are inbound on enemy location, over."
"Roger that. Zero One Three, mission parameters have been changed. Time frame is now twenty four hours. Now classified Delta November Romeo. Pelicans will do one last sweep at fourteen hundred hours, tomorrow. You had best be ready to go by then, over."
"Understood. Over." 013 resisted the urge to curse. There was a wink on her HUD, showing the sudden spike in 071's heartbeat. She was excited they would be spending more time on the battle field and that excitement, though a good sign, could wind up getting the whole lot of them killed. Before she keyed in Karen's frequency, something made her stop. If the tables were turned, she wouldn't expect anyone to overreact to excitement about battle. This was just her nerves acting up on her. 013 blinked and gunned the gas a little to made it over a small creek, following after Karen's Warthog. They had two clicks left to go before entering hostile territory, and another four after that to their destination. 13's hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter out of instinct. Time to get down to business.
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[ Edited by: Benz on 02/10/2010 3:10:58 PM ] |
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-Sierra 071- (Karen)
The small Warthog convoy made their way through the thick jungle, the Marines ahead making sloppy turns and loudly cursing with every jolt. The two Marines riding with her seemed less talkative, the passenger training his gun every which way in search of Covenant enemies while the gunner kept his head on a constant swivel. What were their names again? Damnit, Master Chief always said to remember things like this. Maybe Zero One Three is right... I'm getting soft...
"Uh, Spartan?" the passanger mumbled, turning his head towards her while keeping his gun pointed out, as if ready to squeeze the trigger. 071 highly doubted the man had that sort of reaction speed but it was a comforting gesture nonetheless.
Yes, Private? the Marine slightly jumped, not used to the giant tin can sitting next to him having such a soft, feminine voice.
"Spartan, we weren't briefed on the Mission objectives, just that we were heading into hostile territory and that..." the Marine looked around, slightly nervous. "That we wouldn't be coming back."
The Warthog slowed a bit as she rounded a corner, keying the COM line to 013.
Chief, were you aware these Marines hadn't been briefed? And that they think this is a suicide mission?
I'm not going to pretend I'm surprised. The only reason these guys are with us, in their minds, is to draw enemy fire while we complete the mission. No wonder they gave us green recruits, Brooks didn't want to pull the real boots off the line. What's your take on it? 071 stayed silent a moment, contemplating her answer. She keyed her COM offline, responding to the Private first.
Private, I plan on all of us making it out of here. As long as you follow the Cheif, you'll survive. I promise. Both Marines seemed put at ease by her words. They stayed vigilant, eying the surrounding jungle like the trees themselves were enemies, but there was a noticible drop in tension. She keyed her COM again. Chief... Cedes... Let's save as many as we can. These guys are family too.
Right. Keep frosty, Karen. We just hit hostile territory. Let's bring the pain! Something in her voice reminded 071 of how different her sister had become. Years ago, the lack of a third Spartan and the knowledge that the Marines with them hadn't planned on surviving would've set the Chief on edge. Now, she seemed expectant of it.
This must be what it's like on the outer colonies... we're losing this war so badly, suicide missions are the only ones we have left.
Taking a corner around some trees, they came upon their first encounter with the Covenant since hitting planetside. The first Warthog opened fire immediately, taking out the first wave of Grunts and Jackals. There were only three Brutes in the pack, two armed with Brute Shots while the third had a Spiker. Without having to order it, the gunner started firing, along with the Private in the passanger seat. 071 hit the brakes, jerking the wheel to send the Warthog into a drift. While the Marines plowed straight through the group of hostiles, 071 swung wide to the left, grinning inside her helmet as 013 swung to the right. A flashing light on her HUD alerted the Spartan to incoming fire. One of the Brutes caught sight of her and opened fire with the Shot, the round impacting just feet from where the Warthog had been seconds before. He suddenly lurched forward, a headshot penetrating his thick skull from behind, where 013 was driving, one hand on the wheel while the other pulled her Magnum back. A head shot with a Magnum was impressive, especially driving. 071 smiled, laughing despite the situation as the light indicating 13's life signs winked, a go ahead signal that meant "I'm fine, thanks for asking". Even in the midst of this war, Spartans found time to enjoy the little things. Seems this mission would be the milk run ONI had tried to make it out to be.
The Marines maintained their heading, speeding away from the group while 013 and 071 swung their Warthogs back, allowing the gunners to continue their fire. To ensure things went their way, every enemy encountered had to be wiped out until the end of the mission. Besides that, 013 needed weapons and ammo. That Mag was great, but bullets only last so long against Grunts, Jackals, and Brutes. Hopefully, that's all they would be encountering. Hopefully.
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| Posted On: 02/11/2010 At: 05:08:20 AM | | | Reply Link |
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>Sierra 013< (Mercedes)
The Warthogs swung around, Guass cannons firing in chorus as both Spartans managed another drift around the embattled Covenant Company. She had killed one Brute herself, one of the Marines took out the second. Only one remained, with a handful of Grunts. While the others focused on killing the enemy, 013 was more concerned with their weapons. She could only take one, which one would be best? The Brute shot was clunky, and carrying the explosives wouldn't do well. The Carbines would probably be her best bet next to the Needlers, which she hated.
A final cry of pain and the last Brute was felled by one of the cannons, the remaining Grunts scattering as they shouted gibberish. Despite her co-pilot's protest, 013 stopped the Warthog and got out, popping Grunts as she walked towards the conglomeration of dead bodies. They ran from her and 071 chased them down after ordering her Marines to cease fire. They had to conserve as much ammunition as possible. 013 looked back to her two Marines.
"Corporal Jackson, come her," she ordered, picking up a Needler. The Corporal ran over, slightly wary of the dead Covenant. Rather than driving the first Warthog, the Corporal chose to ride with her, which, though an odd choice, proved sound enough by her reasoning. Maybe she could teach this man a thing or two. Handing off a Needler, and picking up every extra round she could, 013 took the Corporal's Assault Rifle and ejected the clip, throwing it to the gunner and setting the empty gun in the back of the Warthog. "When in the field, recover as much enemy weaponry as you can. They have amazing stock piles of it, and it will be more readily accessible than our armories. This is a Needler. It's their version of our Assault Rifle, with an added bonus of exploding whatever gets stuck too many times. If it's being fired against you, move. A lot."
"Uh, yes ma- I mean, uh, alright Chief," the Corporal lifted the unfamiliar weapon and returned to his seat in the Warthog. After sifting to recover all the ammo she could, 013 clipped the Covenant Carbine to her back attached two plasma grenades to her belt. They would come in handy later. Karen pulled up beside her, first speaking plainly before opening the COM line.
"I'm starting to think this is going to be easy, Chief. I don't get it. That was too large to be a guard patrol," there was almost a ring of doubt in her voice with the private words but 013 replied to her public comment with a light tone.
"That's why they only sent two of us, Zero Seven One. I know. I thought about it too. Let's just keep moving for now," 013 loaded back into the Warthog and followed after 071. Karen took the route noticeably slower, her Marines looking for any sign of the first Warthog. Things would be increasingly difficult if they already lost it. Once they were two clicks away from their destination, they caught up to the Warthog... and the Covenant forces pinning them down. By a quick count, at least five companies, well over a hundred Grunts, Jackals, Brutes, and at the back end of the pack, two Hunters, their glowing green plasma cannons charging. "Karen, you just had to say something, didn't you?
Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as the Guass cannons fired together, drawing enemy attention away from the pinned Marines using a rock formation for cover. There weren't many options left.
"Corporal, just keep her moving," she said before jumping out, pulling up her magnum and charging the dozen Grunts waddling her way. In rapid succession, she dropped the weakest of Covenant warriors before they could hurl their plasma grenades, stopping only to reload her clip as the Guass Warthogs started a dizzying dance at the edges of the clearing, avoiding the Brute Shots and the Hunter's cannons as best they might. Switching to the Carbine, 013 stayed on the far side of the clearing, drawing what fire she could, using the tree line to hide her movements. It wasn't quite a sniper or BR, but the Carbine was working wonders on the unsuspecting Jackals, as their shields raised to deflect Marine fire, she picked them off. Through first hand experience, 013 had learned not to trifle with the Hunters making their way to the front of the pack. Those creatures had to be taken out with a slightly different method.
The Guass cannons continued to fire, sending Grunts and Jackals flying. One of the commanding Brutes lost his helmet and started thrashing about in a rage, running towards 071's Warthog. Cursing, 013 brought the Carbine to her sights and started firing as quickly as possible, trying to bring down the massive creature. However, it did nothing. She ran from her cover as 071's Warthog swung a wide turn, kicking soil at 013. As the vehicle passed, 013 caught sight of the charging Brute and barely stopped herself in time to miss the swing of his fist. It glanced off her helmet as the beast continued to charge.
"These things will be the death of me!" 013 ducked the second punch, dropping her Carbine. It would do her no good now that the creature was this close. She hastily retreated three steps, barely drawing out of the Brute's arm length, then pulled one of the plasma grenade from her belt and jumped at the creature. One oversized arm swung at her and she grabbed it, hoisting herself up and planting her feet firmly on the Brute's shoulders. Despite weighing near half a ton in their Mjolnir armor, the Brute held a sort of alien strength that could support the sudden exertion of a Spartan jump, which worked out well for 013 as she pulled the pin from the grenade and slammed it against the Brute's face. The sticky plasma held as 013 jumped away, barely clinging to 071's Warthog as she skidded by, gun firing at the enemy company. The Brute turned and tried to run after them, but the grenade exploded, ending his actions.
"Chief, ONI will be pissed if you die because you wanted to dance with a Brute. Keep the country plesantries to yourself, okay? It was the closest thing to a 'don't do that again, you lunatic' 071 would ever say. With a small shrug of her shoulders, the Chief jumped back off and hit the ground at a roll. On the ground, a discarded Plasma Rifle lay half buried under the body of a grunt, probably belonging to the berserk Brute. Picking it up, 013 continued to fight.
"Must I always be the wallflower?
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[ Edited by: Benz on 02/11/2010 05:09:52 AM ] |
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| Posted On: 02/12/2010 At: 11:54:25 PM | | | Reply Link |
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-Sierra 071- (Karen)
Gears started to grind together as Karen wheeled the Warthog about, focusing on the charging Hunters, their plasma cannons raised and taking aim at the two vehicles dancing around. Ramming them would do nothing, she knew that, but none of the weapons they brought would get past their shields. Only the Guass cannon would penetrate the armor and there was no way to angle the shot herself while driving. Her head turned to catch sight of 013 dropping more Grunts with the lob of a frag grenade while picking up some plasmas to replace her depleted stock. Most of the Jackals had concentrated their fire on the pinned Marines while the Brutes and Grunts ran after 013, the Hunters alone trying to shoot the Warthogs.
An uneasy feeling settled in 071's stomach as a shot from the first Hunter landed all too close to her vehicle. This was getting too dangerous. Especially with the special cargo being carried with the other Warthog. There had to be another way to engage the enemies. Another shot landed all too close to 071's Warthog, sending it lurching forward. The gunner lost his grip on the turret, crying out as he tumbled to the ground. She didn't have time to turn and get him or slow down enough to let her passenger jump on the gun. Her foot slammed on the brake, pushing too hard and nearly breaking the device, as the other Hunter aimed ahead of them, plasma melting through the Warthog's grill.
Bail Private! 071 ordered her Marine out as the Warthog slid to a slight pause while changing direction. He hesitantly jumped out, scrambling for the trees 013 had used as cover before. A slight smiled came to her lips as the Marines threw a full volley of frag grenades at the Jackals, dispersing them momentarily. Gunning the now empty 'hog, 071 smeared three jackals against the hood while others were killed accidently by the Hunters' fire. Making a sharp U-turn, 071 keyed her COM, having lost sight of 013 and the second 'hog. Chief! I have no visual of your position. I lost my gunner. How do you want to handle this?
I have it under control, Karen. Swing past the Marines hiding back behind the rock, pick up a new gunner, and escort the company North, towards the NAV beacon. Two NAV beacons appeared on 071's HUD, one cool blue arrow marking their eventual destination and the other a black arrow marking 013's position behind her. Unable to resist, 071 turned her head as she pulled behind the rock formation, catching sight of 071 falling back to the tree line with the Private, drawing the Hunters' fire. From almost nowhere, the Corporal's Warthog jumped up behind the Hunters, the Guass cannon landing one perfect strike on the left Hunter. It screamed as it fell, its partner letting out a similar roar as it turned to fire at the 'hog speeding away.
You two, load up! Let's move Marines! 071 tried not to think about leaving 013 and the makeshift bomb behind. It didn't sit right with her but it would be far worse to disobey orders. Two Marines jumped into the Warthog and 071 gunned it, leading the remaining men down the steep slope to another riverbed. They turned North, heading towards the beacon while following the river. A loud explosion sounded behind her and it took everything to keep focused on the Chief's orders. There were too few of them to just abandon during a battle. Too many battles yet to fight for her scattered family. At least 013's NAV beacon was still active. That was good news. The Marines running alongside her 'hog seemed to be running on fear more than duty, never glancing behind them. Beneath her gloves, her knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel entirely too hard. They were coming up on the beacon, a little sooner than she anticipated.
Zero Seven One, establish a perimiter and we'll rendevous. Plans have changed.
That doesn't sound good. Understood, Chief. Alright, Marines, this is Fire Base. Establish a perimiter and keep sharp! 071 stopped the Warthog near a dense part of the jungle, just a few feet from the river's edge, quickly dismounting and waiting for 013 to show up.
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<Sierra 013> (Mercedes)
"I have it under control, Karen. Swing past the Marines hiding back behind the rock, pick up a new gunner, and escort the company North, towards the NAV beacon." 013 continued to fire the plasma rifle, drawing both Hunters towards her. The Private who jumped out of 071's 'hog was firing at anything that moved, starting with any Grunts nearby who actually died when being shot. He was already in survival mode and provided little assistance to the Spartan as she jumped aside to avoid the plasma blast from one of the armored Hunters. They were nearly to the tree line when Corporal Jackson appeared, rising over the far edge of the rock formation. Somehow, the gunner managed to get off one perfect shot on the right Hunter, bringing the beast down with a dying scream. Its partner turned to fire on the Corporal but stopped as 013 opened fire, blasting the vulnerable backside with the plasma rifle. When the hunter turned to glare menacingly at 013, another shot from the Warthog knocked the beast a few feet to its right, doing no damage as the round collided with the beast's shield.
"Chief!" the Private called out, motioning towards Jackson's Warthog. 013 turned and saw the vehicle upended by a rampaging Brute. That split second of shifted focus was all the Hunter needed. The Spartan barely had enough time to react when the creature's massive arm crushed into her, stressing her over shield, then breaking it completely, flinging her away. The soft jungle mud suddenly turned rock hard as she bounced on the ground, rolling away and to her feet. Her vision blurred but the faint beeping of her HUD warned how dangerously low her shield generator was. She knelt down, trying to regain her senses while the tromping of the Hunter's feet got closer, the faint whirring of its plasma cannon sounding in her ears. She looked up in time to see the faint green glow. And the bright blue of the plasma grenade as it stuck to the Hunter's abdomen. Her eyes flicked to the source, the Private barely able to move from the treeline, his assault rifle empty, pulled the pin on a second plasma and tossed it too. He didn't need to; the Hunter cried out in rage just before the grenade exploded, tearing a hole through the creature's midsection. The Private suddenly regained the ability to move, running to 013's side. She forced herself to stand. "Are you alright there Chief?"
"Never better, Private. Nice teamwork." Chief 013 turned and sighed into her helmet. Her shields were back up; that was the good news. The bad news: the third Warthog was compromised. The rampaging Brute managed to rip the engine out, making the vehicle undrivable. The first Warthog was equally destroyed from Grunts who went a bit plasma happy. The Corporal and gunner had managed to survive though, the Brute's corpse had nasty pink tinged holes throughout his body, a sure sign Jackson had put his Needler to good use. "Is the package still intact, Corporal?"
"Yes, Chief, but we have no way to-" Jackson and the other two Marines watched as 013 pulled the bomb off the damaged 'hog and set it on her shoulder. The bomb had to weigh at least a quarter ton yet she lifted it up like there was nothing to it.
"Round up some ammo. We might have another chance to reload. Zero Seven One, establish a perimiter and we'll rendezvous. Plans have changed. Alright Marines, let's roll out! Keep sharp, Corporal take lead, and you two keep an eye on our six. We have a long way to move and a short time to get there!" 013 started at a jog and wanted to growl at the shooting pain in her chest. That Hunter hit her dead on with that blow, something probably ruptured in her chest plate but there was no time to stop and check it. The Marines ran to catch up, awkwardly holding Covenant weapons they didn't know how to use. Jackson picked up more Needler ammo while 071's Private picked up a simple plasma pistol, the gunner took a Carbine. 013 cursed herself. She only had her Magnum, again.
It took far too long to meet up with the others. When she set the NAV beacon for 071, the Chief hadn't paid attention to the distance, only making sure it was set far enough away that the Hunters couldn't get to the others. 071 was waiting patiently by the last of the Warthogs, constantly checking North for any signs of Covenant activity.
"I was beginning to think you got lost, Chief. How'd the dance go?" The lightness of her voice was forced but the Marines wouldn't be able to tell that. 013 set down the bomb and sighed, opening the internal COM line.
"Things just got complicated, Karen. Less than two clicks but only one Warthog for..." 013 took a look around. Of the original company of Marines that started along the mission, only eight remained. Corporal Jackson had taken note of this too, a slight fear dancing in his eyes. "We can't expect them to fit into one 'hog. We could barely transport them before. We have to split into two teams, you take Blue team and head back to base. Start rigging the place to blow while I take Red team to the objective and draw the enemy out of their little hole."
"With all due respect, you have another thing coming if you think I'm going to let you have all the fun on your own, Chief," 071 motioned North. We'll head North, plant the bomb, and send the Marines back to the base. They aren't doing much besides providing fodder for the Covenant anyway."
Without meaning to, 013 bristled at the insult. Private Marseden had saved her life by sticking the Hunter, and Corporal Jackson by taking out the first. Not to mention those who died keeping the others busy while they danced with the Brutes.
"Show some respect, Zero Seven one," it wasn't normal for a Spartan to be so reproachful, especially towards another Spartan. 071 was well aware of this. "Here's a better idea. Marines! Front and center, move!"
The remaining Marines arranged themselves before 013 quickly. Something about surviving this long in hostile territory made them both alert and calm at the same time. It was a strange sight but a pleasant one in comparison to their previous nervousness.
"Alright Marines... play time is over. There are two objectives. One is deploying this..." she lifted the bomb with one hand and set it back down gently. "... in the middle of the Covenant's fire base, one and a half clicks North of this position. There is also a secondary objective. To draw the Covenant back to Delta base and blow them sky high. We will be moving as one unit, on foot, for the remainder of this mission. Zero Seven One will take point. Jackson, follow her. Marseden, Nguyen, cover out six. The rest of you, circle up around me. Let's move.
"Yes, Chief," 071 replied, a little annoyed. They had to work together to survive, 013 knew that. As they started up a mild jog, heading towards their destination, 013 again cursed the pain in her ribs, the added weight of her bomb not helping one bit. A few of them were probably broken. Damn.
There were a few Covenant patrols along the way, small ones usually consisting of one Brute and ten Grunts, easily dispatched. Finding ammunition continued to be the problem though. Knowing they couldn't say what was on their mind openly, 071 and 013 kept their internal COM open, appearing silent to their Marines.
"Sometimes, I wonder why I signed up for this."
"I just wonder if it's going to ever end."
The Chief stayed silent. Despite the fears that this war would never end, it wasn't her place to speak those doubts aloud. She was a Spartan. Spartans felt no fear.
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| Posted On: 02/18/2010 At: 11:22:55 PM | | | Reply Link |
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-Sierra 071- (Karen)
There were several choice words 071 had for the Chief as she motioned for the others to follow her. They were coming close to their destination, crawling through the dense jungle as Phantoms cruised overhead, running to and from the base. Several small patrols had been wiped out during their advance, keeping their magazines (or whatever the Covenant called their ammunition holders) filled. It delayed them from time to time but at least they had something on their side. It didn't help 071's foul mood about the idea to go in with such a large group. The two of them alone could've done a better job completing the mission than the Marines had done so far. Years ago, when they were the same rank, 071 might have let 013 have it, layed into her with a string of logical reasoning against the orders. Things changed, though, and her sister had seen more of the war than she, more of what the Marines could do and would do. The black sheen to her helmet couldn't disguise the battles it had seen, and the same went for the rest of her armor, including the navy blue chest piece. In comparrison, 071 looked completely new in her dark brown armor. Her sights lowered a second as she frowned, checking 013's life signals in her HUD. The Chief was having some trouble maintaining a steady heart rate.
Chief... Mercedes, your heart rate is spiking. 071 tried to think how she wanted to word the question but 013 beat her to it.
I'll survive, Karen. There's no reason to alarm. Just a scratch.
That translates to: I need medical attention, but it can wait. An eye stayed watching the vital signs as she topped a slight hill, coming abruptly to the edge of the jungle, just beyond the Covenant fire base stood.
The main building was purple and vast, bigger than Delta Base, with several smaller buildings branching off to the side. A mumbled curse from 013 confirmed it was their target and that the base had some minor security measures they would need to overcome first. The biggest threat to their misson was the Shield Generator.
"We didn't bring anything heavy. How will we bust our way in?" Jackson peeked at the Covenant base, a faint tremor in his voice. The Corporal was slowly being steeled by the fighting, loosing some of those nerves though he still seemed overall shaken.
We won't. 071 snapped her head to 013 and pinged the COM line. 013 ignored it.
She can't be serious. There's no way past the Covenant shields! ONI still can't replicate their effects yet, they don't know how the systems work! Cedes, what are you thinking? 071 couldn't fathom what the Chief had decided to do as she set down the bomb, drawing a quick outline in the jungle mud of the base. 071 turned and checked through the scope of her BR, ticking off the Jackals sitting in their watchtowers. Either news of the humans hadn't yet reached them or they were considered too insignificant a threat to take seriously. Either way, the mission was starting to look rather dim. I hope you know what you're doing, Chief.
-((----writer's block kills me!----))-
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| Posted On: 02/25/2010 At: 04:04:01 AM | | | Reply Link |
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<Sierra 013> (Mercedes)
"We won't." Spartan 013 checked the readings on her HUD one last time before making her decision. Ignoring 071's call, she set down the bomb and started drawing a quick outline of the Covenant base in the dirt, her mind working through the hastily made battle plan. They would have only one chance to make this work.
"Alright, everyone, listen up. We have one shot to pull this off and it's not going to be pretty. Corporal, here's what I need you to do..."
"Are you sure this is going to work, 'Cedes?"
"As sure as I ever am, Karen.
"Comforting." 013 sighed, a slight smile on her lips. Whereas 071 might not be as inclined to trust in the plan, at least their usual banter was able to set her nerves at rest as they crouched behind trees, the entrance to the Covenant base before them. They were waiting on the Corporal and his men to pull of their portion of the mission. 071 was crouched down to her left, Battle Rifle at the ready, helmeted head watching the Jackals in their turrets, and a few Grunts mingling about. The shield was still up though. 013 was holding the bomb still, her magnum in her left hand. She wasn't nearly as good a shot with her left, but between the two, carrying the bomb was priority number one. Shooting was Karen's job anyway. Their bio read-outs were slightly erratic; hers from being wounded and Karen's probably from knowing 013 was wounded.
Surprisingly, this mission was going a lot better than 013 anticipated. Being down half the squad, losing two Warthogs, having to complete the mission on foot. Ideal conditions considering the normal Spartan mission parameters. At least they still had weapons and ammo.
Suddenly, the time for action was upon them. The Warthog rounded the corner, the Corporal trying to angle it just as 013 had described. The vehicle skirted the Covenant energy shield, the Private on the gun shooting as rapidly as he could, doing nothing to the shield nor its occupants, except drawing their attention. Perfect. Without waiting, the two Spartans jumped up, taking off at a dead sprint. 071 made it up first, with 013 following close behind. As expected, the Covenant lowered their shields, allowing some Grunts through to start attacking the Warthog. That was their shot, their opening in the defenses, and there was no room for error.
((damnit, I'm too distracted, I'll finish this later))
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