Okay, right on time, here's chapter zwolfe,
Chapter Twelve
10 December 2583; Military Calendar
Jorgenson Air Force Base, New Cyprus
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“Into the dropship! Now!” Jack shouted to his compatriots as the specks on the horizon grew into various Covenant aircraft. The four remaining men were sprinting to the immobile Phantom, left crewless by the human attack upon the alien patrol, and it was now to be commandeered for use against its former owners. Or at least to haul the gravely outnumbered Marines clear of the ruined base and away from the clutches of the alien conglomerate.
Piling in, Charlie shouted back over his shoulder, “I’m headed for the cockpit. Jack, Corporal, get on the turrets!” The two complied immediately, pausing only to heft Meyers into the cargo bay. Seeing that the wounded Marine was in, Jack moved for the turret and punched a key, lowering the plasma cannon to its deployed position, and he slipped into the gunner’s position as Nguyen did the same on the port side.
A thrum worked through the craft as Charlie powered up the ship. “Okay, everything looks fine, engines are in acceptable ranges, and the main gun is operational…”
“Charlie shut up and punch it!” Jack yelled to his squadmate as his eyes tracked the incoming vessels.
“Roger, hold on!” The Phantom lurched forward as the main drives kicked in and rapidly brought the vessel up to full speed as it climbed up to altitude. A high-pitched whining filled the crew compartment causing all three men in it to cover their ears in a vain attempt to shut out the high-pitched squeal.
Then a snapping sound punctuated the noise, cutting it out as the men aboard felt the craft rapidly drop its speed. “What the hell was that!?” Nguyen shouted up towards the cockpit.
“Aw, crap,” Charlie returned as he fumbled with the controls, “Guys, I think I figured out why the crew abandoned this thing.”
“Tell me that’s not what I think it was Charlie,” Jack said, getting a very bad feeling in his gut.
“Wish I could, port engine just cut out, something is wrong with the gravity drive. Starboard is starting to look a little shaky, too,” the piloting Spartan confirmed the other’s fear.
Jack then stuck his head out of the gunner’s window just enough to look back on the approaching alien aircraft. “Any chance we could get to ground and evade those Covenant fighters before they catch us?”
“Not a chance,” the Marine corporal voiced his opinion on the matter. He was right, the alien Banshees and the dropships would only take about two minutes to catch the commandeered Phantom at its current speed and only seconds if it landed.
The helmetless commando swore, “Alright then, we’ll have to make the best of it. Meyers, how are feeling?” Looking up from his slumped position at the back of the bay, the wounded Marine just shot the Spartan an annoyed look. “Think you can man the forward gun?”
“Y-yes,” Meyers stuttered, barely audible over the growling of the remaining engine, as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the cockpit, taking a seat next to Charlie.
At this point Nguyen leaned back and face the only other man in the troop bay, “No offense, but I think we were better off just staying back in that closet.”
“You’re probably right.”
It took only a minute for the first Banshee flyer to close within range of the Phantom and begin its lethal mission. Plasma bursts filled the pre-dawn sky as the squadron of craft opened up and began their erratic maneuvers as they rocketed around the dropship, attempting to land a killing blow. Armor plates melted off and several circuits and other parts began smoking as the first hits connected on the larger vessel’s stern.
However, their high speed also worked against them. As they shot by, Jack and Nguyen fired their guns, forcing many to break off their flight paths and regroup, their initial plan of attack foiled. A swarm of about eight formed up high off the Phantom’s two o’clock and Jack instantly took advantage of the formation’s mistake. He depressed the trigger on the plasma cannon and let fly with a hail of azure energy. The group scattered, making it almost impossible to track a shot on any one of them, however there was one exception. A lone Banshee shot by, parallel to the dropship’s starboard side, and Jack fired a second flurry of plasma into it as the craft flashed past.
He smiled as he saw a smoke trail erupt from the stricken fighter and the smaller craft began hurtling to the ground. “I got one!” the Spartan shouted, allowing himself to feel just a moment’s elation at the enemy death. No one heard him over the roar of the battle, and he then threw his focus back into the fight, sending another Banshee careening off as he grazed a flight stabilizer with his gun.
Behind the Spartan, Corporal Lee Nguyen was pouring all the fire he could into an incoming pair of Banshees as they attempted to walk their own fire into the Marine’s position. The human saw several of his shots splash across the opaque canopy of one of the hostiles and the enemy craft ceased its firing, its pilot dead at his controls. Nguyen almost let out a cry of joy akin to the Spartan’s, but his heart sank as he saw the wingman also stop the fire from its twin plasma cannons and loose a single green bolt of energy.
It was a fuel rod round and it impacted just to the Marine’s left, exploding and fragmenting the armored troop bay’s port drop hatch and sending shrapnel throughout the compartment. Multiple chunks of the alloy struck Nguyen, piercing his shoulder and hip armor and ripping gashes across his chest plate. This created enough momentum to fling the human from his seat behind the gun and pitch him into the forward bulkhead.
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Charlie felt the impact as he sat in the pilot’s seat at the front of the Covenant dropship. “What the hell!?” the Spartan shouted as the bulky craft’s tail began sliding to the right. He fought as hard as he possibly could to pull the damaged craft back into a path he could control, but it was all in vain.
“Crap, tailspin!” Meyers shouted next to him, calling out the ship’s new predicament.
“Yeah, I know!” the super-human commando still wrestled with the controls, praying the craft would miraculously right itself. Yet it did not, and the Phantom began rapidly losing altitude and fell with ever increasing speed to the harsh earth below. NO! NO! NO! Charlie screamed at himself as he realized the futility of his last actions. And in the last few seconds, he summoned up the will to give one last warning to his charges, “BRACE FOR IMPACT!”
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The pilot of the lead Banshee purred happily to himself as he saw the stolen Phantom strike the surface of the human-infested planet. Its crew of filthy humans was finally dead after what he had considered to be a very good fight on their part, pity it had cost the lives of three of his pack brothers. Yet it was a victory nonetheless.
“Assabeus, be warned there is a Demon on that Phantom!” the voice of another Jiralhanae crackled over his Battlenet unit.
Another muffled noise of glee, “And the Demon is dead, we have killed the Phantom.”
“Do not be so confident, many of our packs perished at the hands of such abominations because we believed them dead,” the voice cautioned.
“Your advice is noted.” Assabeus switched his frequency to converse with the surviving members of his flight-pack, “My brothers, I have good news. We have slain a Demon, perhaps more than one.” This was followed by growls and roars of victory, and the Captain let it die down before speaking again, “Magnus, Jureus, you will accompany me to deliver this news to our Chieftain and the most holy Prophet of Vengeance, for such a thing should not be spoiled by the soulless Battlenet, but ought be delivered in person. Narberus, stay here, you should gather trophies to our victory and bring honor to our pack. Hiramus, cover him and ensure that the infidels are dead.”
With this, three of the purple craft broke off and slipped away into the first lights of dawn.
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10 December 2583; Military Calendar
Somewhere on New Cyprus
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Whines pierced the air and sent an icy jolt down the spine of Matt “Sludge” Keller as he sat leafing through a small paperback book in the cockpit of his D-77SOC Pelican Nightstalker. What in Hades? ****, Banshees! The realization threw him into action and he hurled himself around his ejector seat and back into the troop hold where his copilot and two Marines were playing a game of poker on the deck.
Startled by his superior’s action, the vessel’s copilot spoke up first, “Sludge, what’s going on?”
“Couple of bandits flying nearby, if they’re here, they’ve got a pretty *** good idea of where we are. Now start preflight, essentials only!” Sludge ordered, himself beginning the shortened list of power-up sequences and safety checks. Within a minute, the UNSC dropship hummed to life and the crew found themselves at the controls, sending the Pelican variant off into the waning dark.
His copilot flipped a number of switches behind him in the tandem-seated cockpit. “Okay, radar is off, passive scanners are up,” the junior officer paused for a moment, “Wait, I’m getting hits on seven, make that six, Banshees and a Phantom.”
“Yeah, so what does it matter? Make your point, Nugget,” Sludge said as he brought the dropship up to the maximum speed he wanted to risk.
“Sludge, it almost looks like they’re pulling of some kind of combat maneuver like wolves after a deer. Give me a second, I need to check something,” Nugget repeatedly hit a button until one of his monitors cycled to a specialized Identification Friend/Foe display. The man blinked twice, “Holy ****, we got one of the Spartans on that Phantom!”
The Navy pilot wrenched himself around to face his crewmate, “Are you sure?”
“Dead certain.”
Sludge faced back forward and yanked the controls to bring the Pelican back around and set it on a course for the dogfight. ***, only one Spartan. This is not good. Shaking his head, he gave his order, “Prep the chain gun, we have work to do. Oh, and tell the mudbugs in back to buckle up, things are about to get bumpy.”
“Sir?”
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“I do not care what Assabeus said, I will gather up our victory trophies,” one of the simian aliens growled to its wingman in the other Banshee guarding the desecrated dropship the inferior humans had stolen.
“And why would I let you claim the kill of the Demon, do you think I would willingly let you rob me of my conquest?” the other snarled back. “Assabeus gave me the duty of collection, and if you think I will give that up, you’re more foolish than an Unggoy!”
The insult bit deeply into the Jiralhanae, and his response was that of a roar, “HOW DARE YOU CHALLENGE ME! Come let us settle this on the land and let me show you who the true fool is!”
“Bah! If you wish to finish this, let us do it here, a test of our finest skills!”
“Coward!” As the quarrel escalated in insults and violent remarks, the two aliens hardly noticed the near-invisible form drop in just two hundred meters in front of them.
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Sludge brought Pelican to a stop just in front of the two remaining Banshees. “Blast, the mike-foxtrots downed the dropship. Look like we gonna find survivors?”
“Call it fifty-fifty, but how about these two hairy ***? Can I send off to meet whatever SOB they worship yet?” Nugget pleaded.
“Go for it. Just make sure the techs are painted two silhouettes on our hull”
The copilot grinned as his brought his eyes down to his targeting display, “Bye-bye, boys.”
"Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword never encountered automatic weapons."
-General Douglas MacArthur
The Pheonix War: Pheonix Rising:
http://www.halowars.com/forums/thread/378844.aspx