PART TWO: Angels in Green
“Epitoma Rei Militaris”
[1900 HOURS// ENROUTE TO RALLY POINT ZULU (JERICHO II)
CORPORAL N. HARDING-CORPORAL S. POLES// ALPHA C.]
Air rushed past his face, the goggles stopping his eyes from watering and the helmet didn’t fly off because of the leather straps keeping them there and the only thing that blocked the wind resistance was a gray mask around his nose and mouth.
His eye fell upon the city and from where he was looking, was hell.
Smoking cinders, flames licking the sky above, and he could hear the pop pop pop of gun fire from over three thousand feet up. That wasn’t a problem, but him hearing it right below him in the relative area that was going to be a problem.
His eyes averted to his left where he saw Hound floating forty feet away, the man stared back and gave a thumbs up. Harding nodded and returned the gesture.
A couple hundred feet below him a white puff flared and there was the first chute opening. The next one came up a few seconds after.
He didn’t see it coming’, hell he didn’t expect it. Neither did Hound by the looks of it and when the first plasma bombs came through the air deploying his chute was the last thing he was thinking about and a wave of sadness fell upon him as he saw that two men below would be sitting ducks.
He couldn’t be more right, the blobs were a light blue surrounded by a ring of indigo and timed perfectly. There were two, the first flew past the men and continued upward. The second one seemed to arc with the pair, slowly falling back to the earth with them.
The first one detonated. The explosion from the plasma wiped out the parachutes’ of the marines, slowly the strengthened fiber cloth began to burn away as the bits of plasma burned through it.
Covenant flak…
The second plasma ball was the finishing move, it detonated and by what Harding could see it tore one of paratroopers in half and the other was thrown to the side, leaving him with a melting chute and over five thousand feet to go.
The marine opened a private COM channel to Hound. “Peel off; the bastards are using some new weaponry. Peel out and we’ll see each other on the ground.”
“Got it.” A thumb’s up. “See ya later Cowboy.”
The man banked away from his partner and set off towards a pristine river that ran through the middle of the city, it winded towards the outskirts of town.
On his arm was an altimeter; he glanced at it, the red numbers scrolled to three thousand feet. He was going to go to do a low opening and hopefully he wasn’t a target. The numbers continued to scroll down, and what he didn’t want happened.
Two bluish blobs floated from below towards him, they lazily floated through the sky towards him.
Harding dove forward, increasing speed, but at the same time pulled his arm right, as steering, and his body dove like a one hundred and fifteen pound rock carrying one hundred pounds of gear.
He flashed past the blobs and breathed a sigh of relief, his breath exhaling from his lungs. His eyes closed and opened, looking down at the war zone.
The air left his lungs, and his eyes grew wide.
Hundreds of them, blue blobs of plasma floating towards him. He breathed one word that described it all.
“FUBAR…”
He had to think fast, there was too little time to do maneuvered and another sudden drop like that he wouldn’t be able to deploy his chute. He was screwed.
The main deploys at what? Three thousand feet minimum but… A smile came upon his features as he pulled the ripcord, a strong yank and he was pulled upward. The plasma aimed right at him.
He had to time it; the first row of plasma angled upward and the second began their curve downward towards the planet. The interception point, he continued to float down ward slowly and steadily.
Boom.
It sounded like a thousand freight trains exploding at once, each one in anger and it showered the sky with bright light blue lights and the blobs of plasma began to spread outward. The ones below began to throb purple.
Time to go.
He jabbed a finger on the main release button and the world seemed to spin and twirl. He plummeted towards the earth; he flashed through the second plasma orbs and continued downward, they exploded with a bright fashion.
He glanced down at the altimeter. One thousand five hundred feet, he was well below the reserve chute deploy point and to get to the point: He didn’t have a prayer.
But he wasn’t going to die hitting the ground; he yanked the second cord, the reserve chute blossoming open, first the cloth then the strings. It unfurled and he was wrenched up.
The altimeter numbers slowed. One thousand feet.
He was still coming in too fast; he needed to lose some weight, but what?
Harding grabbed his from his belt, unsheathed it and began cutting the line between himself and the back below him. His hands moved in a forward and back motion until the rope snapped. The chute went up a few more feet and everything moved slower.
The military issue pack faded when it began to match the cement below. Nine hundred feet to go…
He didn’t see any more blobs of plasma, and he didn’t see any signs of the covenant… Yet. His head swiveled. Nothing but smoke, and the incoming darkness of night.
Harding glanced back at the ground and it continued to rush up to meet him like an old friend.
The landing could’ve been more pleasant but he didn’t break anything. He crouched with MA5B with the reserve chute still on his back. With one hand he reached up and rubbed it through his red hair while the second was still on the trigger.
“Hound do you read?”
Static.
“Hound I’m in deep. The Covenant has this area… Are you alive or dead? If you’re alive just answer.”
Static.
“God damn it all…”
A burst of static hit his ear.
“Damn… God… Yeah I’m here Cowboy.” A groan in the background. “I’m messed up man, the plasma… I’m off course… Way off course.”
“Where?”
There were sounds of MA5B barking the background. “***. They found me.”
“Where are you?”
“. Cowboy, get to the rally point and the Docs. I’m surrounded,” Static, and more, the ratta-tat-tat, of a MA5B and then nothing but silence, and Cowboy there alone in the middle without a soldier or a soul to turn to.
Shane “Hellhound” Poles was in a boatload of trouble, ever since he stepped out of the Pelican he had a bad feeling about the whole op. When the covie flak started coming in by the hundreds he had the misfortune to not be able to dump his main chute and switch to his reserve since he never packed a reserve.
So the maneuvered he saw Cowboy make was useless to him. So when the first of the shots passed over his head, he did the only thing he could, he ditched his chute over one thousand feet up into the freezing cold waters of the river below.
How he survived was in itself a miracle.
Hound dragged himself on shore, gear and all and walked just over a half a klick until he came upon what he would call the covenant army itself baring down on him.
Grunts, Jackals, Elites, the whole shabang came down right on top of his head, and they brought their gear with them. Wraiths, ghosts, shades, and even banshees what he could see weaving through the buildings above.
Hound was able to get in a manhole, close it above him-even though it didn't fully cover him, and he was able to move freely. Until five minutes ago when Cowboy radioed in, they must’ve caught the burst transmission and they went to his position instantly.
They sent grunts, must’ve thought it was a civilian, so he was moving through the sewers underneath a major city while being pursued by a legion of grunts and one elite. Or two. It didn’t matter; he couldn’t fight an elite with one MA5B with half a mag anyway.
Hound slogged through the foot deep muck, his MA5B braced on his shoulder, its light blaring forward into the din, his foot searched forward making sure the footing was good and continued on.
Ahead he saw there was no way for him to continue forward, it was either a left or a right.
“Man… This stinks…” A grumble of almost inaudible words came from his lips and he moved on. The scenery wasn’t much to look out, green streaks stained the walls, the water was oily stained an orange-brown. And the whole passage was less than two meters high causing him to crane his head so he could move freely.
Search for the human- Wort. I want him alive.
He knew what it was, Elite speak and it was up ahead around the next corner. He glanced up at his helmet, “Damn translator’s busted.”
The human killed the light on the muzzle on his weapon, and slowly commenced forward, he pressed his back on the cold pipe, inching forward.
He heard odd barks and growls but the translator whispered in his ears. We will find the human… The static, he doubted the machine would work again. It was through but at least he knew they were after a human, what human? Him? No… He knew a legion of grunts were scouring the sewers looking for something but was it him?
He glanced around the bend, the air rushed from his lungs and his eyes widened.
There were six grunts, each armed with a plasma pistol, their backs turned to him, surrounding a white light that lit the small section of the tunnel, another one facing him was a gold armored elite. The elite's bluish-white plasma blade in his grasp, its human-like eyes searching as he continued to speak in its alien tongue.
The grunts seemingly leapt up and down. The commanding was over, and the gold elite began to bog it’s way to the left, followed by two black armored grunts, the other four were dressed in red and orange armor, the two began moving forward in the tunnel in front of him, one went to the right, grumbling in odd barks, and the last came his direction, it’s desiccated blue skin and it’s shiny blue armor proved it was not suited to this type of combat.
Alone the creatures were weak, and the meter high alien wouldn’t stand a chance.
Hound slung his rifle over his shoulder, and withdrew his combat knife from his sheathe, he held it down in a stabbing motion, and didn’t peak around the corner again. He listened the creature move, seeing the ripples grown larger and larger as it came forward. The splashing sound of it stumbling forward.
He saw the muzzle of it, then its masked head, and then he saw the large breathing tank. It didn’t look from the left to the right; he pounced on it, slamming it to the adjacent wall, it squealed in pain, its plasma pistol dropping into the cold water.
His right hand shot up and began to yank on the mask; he heard the gasping sound of the non-breathing grunt, his left hand slammed into the grunts throat. He felt the florescent blue liquid sputter on his hand, yet he swiped his hand to the left, giving the grunt an extra smile.
It made no other sound, and collapsed into the water with a splash.
His eyes looked down at his battle dress uniform, it was stained a light almost glowing blue, he went down and felt through the water to grab the plasma pistol. He checked it over; turning it over in his hands before placing it in his now slimmed down pack.
He looked down at the grunt body; the water was beginning to tinge blue as well. The patrols would most likely come back; he had to get out of the sewers and back to the surface.
Hound gave a glance in the direction he came and the direction the grunt came before moving off to the left, where the grunt was going to go, hopefully he wouldn’t run into goldilocks and/or his four grunts.
“Human.”
He spun his eyes grew wide, the gold elite stood there it’s eyes narrowed into slits. Around him were his for grunts.
Spoke too soon…
The great beast had it’s weapon leveled at his chest, a metallic looking plasma rifle, the grunts had their pistols aimed straight at him as well. He wouldn’t be able to kill the creature, the shields would hold and then the elite would get a few shots off killing him.
He didn’t have a prayer.
“C’mon split chin you want a piece of this? Come and get it.” The elite gave a *** of it’s head to the side, and it’s two bottom mandibles spread wide. An alien smile.
The beast dropped it’s rifle into the water and stood straight, the elite tapped something on it’s wrist and the constant hum of the shield generator fade. “You will die with shame human.”
“I don’t intend to die, ugly.”
The elite gave a valiant roar of might and charged. A thought flashed through his mind. What the hell was I thinking?
The first blow threw him to the wall, a sickening whap, and he felt his whole body became a house of pain. His hand touched his lips and blood was flowing freely from more than a busted lip.
“Is that all you got, squid?” A grimy cough escaped his throat, with that pain shot through is body like lightning, and it felt ten times worse. “If you just stand there all day, I should take a picture. Give it to all your friends, but hey-“ Cough “-But they’re just as repulsive.”
The elite could be seen agitated by the insults, a pathetic human insulting him and his brothers! The primate will pay! The look on the elites face said it all.
This time, the elite didn’t charge, it walked forward and looked down at him, Poles was braced against the slick sewer wall, and he could feel the cold bumps against his back and a rough, dry hand wrap around his neck, lifting him out of the water and towards the ceiling.
The elite withdrew from it’s belt a hilt, for what he didn’t know. From all the combat he saw, he had never fought a commander face to face, and anything could be expected.
He heard a kshhh… A blue-white blade came up from the hilt; it had two blades, one coming from each end, each curved and came straight, forming two points.
The world seemed to black out, and everything began to fade, slowly. The mandibles of the elite spread once more. “Any last words, human?”
Poles had thought about many times, what would his last words be? Right now, after thinking for a quick few seconds he decided death wasn’t an option.
He reached for his holster, strange he remembered the pistol, a M6D, after all that time.
Hound’s hands thumbed the release strap and his fingers wrapped around the cold metal. The safety was already off since the jump, he never kept it on.
His hand raised, and he smiled using the last ounces of breath from within him he spoke. “Yeah…” The pistol was leveled at the neck of the beast. “Smile for the camera.”
The pistol discharged, and again, and again and again. The first round impacted the neck; it tore through the soft blue tissue, went through his wind pipe, and exited the other end, taking most of the upper spine with it and some gore as well. The rounds after did the same.
Goldie, fell to the ground, dropping Hound to the floor, and the water. He groaned, and saw the grunts, their eyes full of terror. His voice was a mere gasp. “Wanna piece of this?”
Hell, they didn’t know what he said, but they ran anyway.
[2055 HOURS//NORTHERN CITY (EXACT LOCATION
UNKNOWN) ENROUTE TO RALLY POINT ZULU]
Over two hours he had been wandering through the city, darkness had fallen and the multiple fires that had consumed everything in the past few hours lighted everything with a dim glow of crimson-orange. He kept his weapon raised, always.
Two hours… Where the hell was he, he had made it to the banks of the river and had been traveling along it, hoping he would see Hound or some other marine, all he did meet was six marines, KIA, all in various stages of dismemberment, courtesy of the Covenant.
He saw what looked like a sewer pipe ahead –hell a tunnel, water flowed freely from it. His boots slid along the sand as he made his way to it. There was a pack floating the water, and he wanted to see if there was any ammo in it.
His reached the shore, his body knelt beside it, and he slowly began to open it. Then he felt it, a searing pain going through his side, his body flew into the surf. He felt the blows come down upon him, slowly he felt the breath leave him and water began to fill his lungs.
Yet he yelled. “C’mon ya covie ***!” And he felt the blows slow, and then stop. His body was yanked up, and he decided that whatever was gonna kill him. Most likely a grunt was going to pop him in the head, but no grunt was strong enough to lift him and if it was an elite he would have been dead by now.
“Son of a ***… Cowboy?”
It sounded like Hound, no… Hound was dead. He coughed up the water he had swallowed and his eyes finally opened, they were looking down at his collar where two hands were grabbing him, brown hands. His eyes moved up the arm, the sleeves of the person’s was tinged a light blue. His eyes kept moving up, he saw the armor of a UNSC marine, and he went up to the scrawny neck and the face.
The Marine would remember the face for years to come, he saw the glasses, the shaved skull, the wide nose and the soot covered face and he broke out in a smile. “Hound, you fuckin’ idiot, you almost killed me… I thought you were dead.”
“So did I…” Hound smiled and released his friends collar, the water was ankle deep so Harding perched himself with elbows instead of falling back first into the surf. “What’s happening?”
Hound shrugged and stood, he grabbed his pack from the water. “C’mon, the rally point should be a couple klicks from here; we should make it there in a couple hours.” The man seemed different, but he didn’t notice it until the man pulled him up from the water and he saw in the man’s eyes was blankness. A stare that had no focus.
He didn’t say anything about it but looked into the tunnel from which the man came, it was pitch black, and he could see nothing beyond. What happened in there?
[2205 HOURS// RALLY POINT ZULU
DATA CORRUPTED-//- ERROR]
They were met by a pair of sentries, one manned a Warthog’s Light Anti-Aircraft Gun, the LAAG, and they were both privates and were part of Delta Company from the 210th. Where the hell was the ODST’s, well the hell was 702nd? It was like they never existed…
He asked the cap wearing private who had a pug nose and green eyes, Hound stood next to him cradling his MA5B. “Wear the hell is the ODST’s? Hell, where’s the 702nd?”
“We were supposed to reinforce them sir, but when we landed there was nothing.”
“What do you mean nothing?”
The man shrugged. “Nothing, we found no evidence of any soldiers protecting the city, just a bunch of civilians who have taken up arms.”
“Where’s their leader?”
The sentry pointed up the debris filled road. “Down there sir, you should see a tent ahead with red cross, medical tent. He’s a doctor sir; he saved a couple of buddies of mine. You should get along.”
Nicholas nodded. “Thank you Private.”
The Sentry nodded. “We’ll see you later Corporal.” The sentry’s eyes focused back on the road from where they came.
When they moved from the sentry’s position, and civilians instantly amassed them, he had never seen so many in a combat zone. The crowded around them, and they must’ve saw he had never been in the encampment in the first place. They were mostly women and some children.
An old woman looked at them, she wore torn clothing, and her eyes begged for some forgiveness, as if he was to blame, but they changed to a look of bare happiness. “Angelo nel verde. Benedicali, angelo. Angelo nel verde…”
“So what she say Cowboy?”
He smiled, “My Italian isn’t that good, but I think she said, ‘bless you angels in green.’ Or something like that.”
Hound didn’t return it. “Angels in green, eh… I wish I could say the same thing.” He continued forward without a word. He wished he wasn’t there at the moment and time. Angels in Green. Hell if they were angels they would be winning the war.
"Honor? There ain't no honor in this war. The Plasma-Rifles killed it. And if the Plasma-Rifles didn't, then the Wraiths did. If the Wraiths didn't, then the Scarabs sure as hell did."
