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The Fall of Reach: Battle for Reach by Bob 121
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The Fall of Reach: Battle for Reach
Date: 14 April 2006, 1:09 pm
Author's Note: Hi guys, this is my second Halo fanfic and the first one I've put up here. Just a quick notice to everyone, the into Memo thing was written by Erik Nylund for his book the, Fall of Reach, which I tied this story into. Reviews and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, thanks.
Chapter 1: Order of Battle
United Nations Space Command
Alpha Priority Transmission 04592Z-83
Encryption code: Red
Public Key: file /bravo-tango-beta-five/
From: Admiral Roland Freemont, Commanding Fleet Officer,
FLEETCOM Sector One Commander/ (UNSC Service Number: 00745-16778-HS)
To: ALL UNSC warships in REACH, JERICO, and TANTALUS systems
Subject: IMMEDIATE RECALL
Classification: Classified (BGX Directive)
/start file/
Covenant presence detected on REACH system's edge coordinates 030 relative.
ALL UNSC warships are hereby ordered to cease all activities and regroup at rally point ZULU at best speed.
ALL SHIPS are to enact the Cole Protocol immediately
/end file/
0400 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Reach Military Complex, 9th Division Garrison
Pvt. Ethan Campbell awoke to the screeching noise with a start. It took him only an instant to realize that what he was hearing was not reveille but in fact was the emergency sirens. He scrambled out of his cot half awake alongside the other men in his barracks that were similarly surprised and confused. What the hell!? What in God's name is going on here? he thought to himself. Ethan overheard two Privates nearby talking about a Covenant attack. His brain shouted out in denial to the two Marine's mutterings; The Covenant wouldn't attack Reach! Reach is the most heavily defended planet in this system! Besides we would have known about them long before they'd got here, it must be a drill. "Yeah," he said to himself, "its nothing but a drill."
0400 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive en route to Rally Point Zulu
The Argive's bridge was engulfed in chaos; Capt. Anton Marshal's voice was barley audible over the screeching klaxons.
"Comms. I need a report ASAP! Tell me what the hell is going on out there!" The communications officer scrambled to fulfill the Captain's increasing demands. Anton Marshal was not a man that you would want to anger; tall, with a strong build and sharp facial features, the Captain was certainly an intimidating sight on the bridge as he prowled from station-to-station. "Navigation! What is our ETA?"
"Uhh, about 20 minutes sir."
Good, maybe then we'll be able to find out how the hell those Covie bastards snuck up on us. Marshal turned to the AI's holograph pedestal where the ship's AI construct; a semi-translucent holograph of a four-armed figure was standing; "Shiva, send out a tightbeam transmission to FLEETCOM and tell them our ETA is in 20 minutes, and while you're at it try to get us any intel you can on the enemy. I want numbers, classifications, positions, anything that we have I want it now." After a few moments the main NAV board lit up with data. Capt. Marshal stood there watching the data scroll by as if he had just been smacked across the face.
0400 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Carrier Belisarious near Rally Point Zulu
Greg Rowan tapped his fingers on his Longswords control panel as he sat impatiently. "Come on Ray, hurry it up!"
"Shut the hell up Greg! You wanna fuel your own bird?"
Greg Rowan was the leader of Halo flight and embarrassingly enough he was also the last one of his flight to leave the hangar.
"Hey you know what Ray? Never mind I think I'll just walk to the battlefield. Know where the nearest airlock is?" Ray, the middle-aged technician who had just finished fueling the Longsword let the pilot know by throwing a wrench at the cockpit, which instead hit the nose and bounced off back into the balding crewman.
"Hey Ray, I hope you're better at fueling than you are at throwing." As the Longsword pulled out of the hangar bay he saw the technician giving him a one-finger-salute and shouting profanities.
The FAC gave Greg clearance as he left the Carrier and moved Halo flight's coordinates.
"All right Halo flight, sorry I was late but you know how those techies are." The rest of Halo flight broke into laughter; there was a kind of tension between some of the pilots and their techs, even though they don't really hate each other they would poke fun at each other as a means of putting aside their nervousness whenever they were going into a battle. "We've been assigned to anti-fighter duty for the destroyer Argive. It hasn't arrived yet but will shortly, meanwhile run diagnostics through your systems then run em again, we don't want anything going wrong that can be avoided. We stick to the plan and we'll all come through this in one piece."
0423 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive near Rally Point Zulu
"Notify Admiral Stanforth that the Argive has arrived" Captain Marshal barked, "Yessir" the Comm. Officer replied hastily. "Navigation, move us into position." The Comm. Officer turned to Capt. Marshall a few moments later; "The Belisarious has notified us that it has assigned Halo, Alpha, and Sierra squadrons for anti-fighter defense." Marshall nodded and without taking his eyes off the Nav-board he replied, "Send the Belisarious my thanks, Mr. Jansen"
The Argive was one of the last UNSC ships to arrive at the rally point and quickly moved into position. The Covenant Fleet was already moving in and would be within firing range in a matter of minutes. The backbone of the UNSC's strategy relied not on the considerable number of ships gathered around Reach but instead on the twenty orbital MAC guns that had been arrayed to combat Reach's assailants. Each orbital platform fired what was essentially a huge ball of molten ferric-tungsten that was magnetically accelerated to near-light speed. The Argive, and numerous other UNSC vessels, were equipped with a similar version albeit less powerful. The plan was the orbital defense platform's MAC guns would deliver long-range crippling blows to the advancing Covenant fleet and the UNSC vessels would move in for the kill. The only weakness in the plan is the fact that the power source for the MAC guns, fusion reactors located on the surface of Reach, were highly vulnerable and if compromised would render the orbital guns useless.
0425 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Halo Flight Squadron near UNSC Destroyer Argive
"All right Halo Flight move into position around Argive." Flight Commander Rowan brought his Longsword into a lazy loop along the length of the destroyer; 50mm cannons and Archer missile pods flashing past his cockpit. He was uneasy about the upcoming battle, he could see the Covenant fleet approaching; it was huge, from what he could tell there were hundreds of ships and that wasn't good. "Halo flight, gear up, we're gonna have company any minute here. Try your best to stay near the Argive and keep in contact with the rest of the squadron, I don't want any loners out there, that's the fastest way to die. One last thing; the Belisarious is nearby so if you need to rearm let them know you're coming in and try you're best to stay away from the Destroyer's cannons, they can't always be as discriminate between targets as we'd like." Rowan looked towards the oncoming fleet and for the first time in a long while, started to pray.
0428 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive in position over Reach
Capt. Marshall let out a sigh, "Well, here they come." The fate of Reach could very well be decided in the first few minutes of the battle, a nagging voice spoke from somewhere in the back of his mind, he quickly squashed the thought and turned away from the Nav-board. "Weapons Control, give me full power to the MAC gun, I want the Archer missile pods ready and the 50mm's loaded." Anton Marshall was nervous, regardless of the multiple campaigns that he'd served in and the countless battles he'd been through the Covenant always made him uneasy. It's probably because they're so different, so…. alien. He'd heard the stories of how the Navy had only won battles against the Covenant when there were at least three-to-one odds in their favor, and even then the losses they took were horrendous. He wouldn't have believed it possible if he hadn't witnessed many of the atrocities first hand. It's those damn shields they have, we get hit by one plasma burst and we're out of the picture while we throw everything we have at them and they just keep coming. The weapons officer pulled him from his trance, "Archer's are hot along with the 50mm's and the MAC will be ready shortly. Marshall turned and looked out the viewport at the enemy fleet "Very good."
0436 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Orbital MAC Station Validus in orbit over Reach
Bridge Commander Miguel Alvarez stood at the Command/Control center of the orbital "Super" MAC Gun Validus. His job was to essentially "snipe" the oncoming Covenant fleet while at maximum range. Many naval officers referred to MAC guns such as the Validus as Super MAC guns because of the larger projectiles and greater force that they could produce. While a shipboard MAC could deliver deadly blows to enemy vessels they required multiple hits in order to completely incapacitate a Covenant capitol ship. The Validus, and the other orbital stations, required only a single hit to destroy their intended target thanks to the extra power provided by the groundside power plants.
Alvarez turned as a young lieutenant materialized behind him. "Sir, the Covenant fleet has moved into maximum range. Requesting permission to open fire."
Commander Alvarez nodded to the lieutenant, "Yes, you may open fire." There came a faint rumbling noise from the bowls of the station and then the deck suddenly vibrated as the station fired its main weapon.
Twenty super-heated spheres of metal sheared through the void crossing thousands of kilometers in just seconds. The projectiles finally found their mark, impacting their targets in two's and three's. The MAC rounds, though crude, were very effective, and one-by-one Covenant vessels died. A Cruiser, with its shields stripped by the force of the projectile's impact, shuddered as the ball of metal tore through its hull and hit it's reactor, causing it to go critical and explode in a ball of white-blue flame that engulfed another Cruiser, causing its shields to flicker and die. A MAC round tore into a Carrier, shorted out its energy shields penetrating its hull, and it continued on, carried by its momentum, into a picket ship, resulting in its complete destruction.
The Command deck of the Validus erupted in cheers as sixteen Covenant capitol ships and three support ships disappeared from the screen. Commander Alvarez looked over the screen as a wave of joy swept over him, it was quickly banished when the Covenant fleet returned fire on its attackers. Alvarez felt a wave of panic replace the joy as the uncountable plasma bursts came closer towards the human fleet. "Get that MAC reloaded NOW!"
0437 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive inside Reach Battle Zone
"Evasive maneuvers! Get us out of their line of fire!" Right after the orbital station's initial volley the fleet had come under heavy fire. The Argive hadn't even gotten a chance to get a proper targeting solution with its MAC before coming under fire by three separate plasma rounds. Capt. Marshall braced himself against the computer terminal as the destroyer went into a sharp turn away from the plasma bursts. "I want a targeting solution for the MAC, target the nearest cruiser and open fire."
The Weapons Officer shouted across the bridge to Marshall. "Target locked captain, preparing to fire"
The whole ship shook as it unleashed its deadliest weapon; the MAC round sped through space and impacted on a Covenant Cruiser that was trading blows with the UNSC Destroyer Prometheus. The round impacted the Cruiser, stripped its already weakened shields, and continued on into the Cruiser punching through a good portion of the ship. The entire bridge crew cheered as the Prometheus finished off the wounded ship and then moved on to another target.
Even before the Cruiser was destroyed the com officer ran up to Marshall; "Sir there are Carriers moving in, FLEETCOM has ordered us to join the Lancer and Durus to move in and take them out" Damn! I'd hoped the Carriers would be preoccupied a little longer, if those Carriers get bombers close enough in our formation then we're in big trouble.
The tactical officer called out, "The Carriers are beginning to deploy their fighters!"
"Target the nearest Carrier, share our telemetry with the Lancer and Durus. I want us to fire as close as possible at the same time." The Comm. Officer relayed the message to both ships and an instant later all three ships opened fire almost simultaneously.
0437 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Halo Flight Squadron near UNSC Destroyer Argive
F.C. Rowan saw the tear-dropped shaped fighters pouring out of the Carriers. "Ok people we've got bogey's coming in fast so get ready. I just got word from the Argive that we're to target the bombers when they do come out but for now just focus on the fighters. A chorus of confirmations came over Rowan's earpiece as Halo flight spread out into attack formation; ahead of them Alpha squadron had already engaged the enemy fighters and were holding well, taking down two enemy fighters with no losses of their own. Seconds later Halo flight joined the battle alongside Sierra Squadron and tore into the Covenant fighters, cutting a swathe through the enemy formation, destroying or crippling a quarter of their number in one lethal pass. The initial pass was not a complete victory, however, Sierra squadron lost two Longswords and Halo six was crippled and leaking oxygen from a plasma hit to the cockpit.
Rowan brought his Longsword around in a tight arc and aimed his fighter towards Halo six's crippled ship. "Halo flight cover six until a shuttle can get him out" Rowan switched over to the Belisarious's CommNet; "This is Gregory Rowan, F.C. of Halo Flight, we have a crippled fighter out here and need immediate evac."
Rowan heard an almost annoyingly calm voice answer over his earpiece, "Negative Halo Flight, the area is too hot for our shuttles your man is on his own, sorry."
"Damn!" Rowan saw two Covenant fighters already heading towards the damaged Longsword, Six'll never survive out here in the middle of this. Rowan switched his comm. over to the squadron frequency.
"Halo five and seven stick with six and keep those fighters off his back. Make sure to watch out for…." Rowan stopped in mid-sentence as a red light began flashing on his control board accompanied by an incessant beeping, Rowan glanced at the radar and uttered an oath; a second wave of fighters, over seventy-two Covenant craft, swarmed from the bowels of the nearest cruiser headed straight for them.
The Fall of Reach: Battle for Reach Ch. 2
Date: 15 April 2006, 1:51 pm
Ok, this is the second of six chapters. Sorry if the spacing in the story is a little whack, I can't really help it.(Believe me, I tried.) Anyway, hope you enjoy reading and hope it doesn't suck too much. (Please Review)
Ch 2: Juggernaught
0502 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Orbital MAC Station Validus in orbit over Reach
The entire station shuddered as the MAC cannon released another salvo into the Covenant fleet. Twenty MAC rounds tore into the five Covenant Cruisers completely destroying them, but not before the Cruisers fired their own weapons. Commander Alvarez watched helplessly as the five plasma rounds tore into the orbital stations, leaving only wreckage and debris.
"Shit!" Alvarez glanced at the NAV board just as five icons, each representing an orbital MAC station, disappeared from the screen. Alvarez turned to the Comm. Officer "Get me FLEETCOM immediately, tell them we need some cover here or we're screwed." The Comm. Officer complied and an instant later the majority of the nearby UNSC vessels had driven the Covenant back a comfortable distance away, suffering heavy losses in the process. Alvarez grimaced, using the UNSC ships as a shield was a necessary evil; the Orbital MACs were the backbone of the navy's plan, if they lost any more then they would lose Reach and with it leave Earth open to attack. They might be a shield but no defense can hold the enemy at bay forever. Alvarez turned to the Weapons Officer, "Well? What are you waiting for? Get us another target. Those navy boys saved our Asses, now its time to return the favor."
0502 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive inside Reach Battle Zone
Captain Marshall stared at the NAV board in shock as five Orbital MAC Stations disappeared from the screen. Christ! We just lost a quarter of our Orbital MACs! How the hell could we let them slip through this easily?
The Comm. Officer ran up to Marshall's side and blurted out "Sir, FLEETCOM has ordered that all nearby ships to keep the Covenant Fleet back to a minimum distance of thirty-six thousand kilometers from the orbital stations."
Easier said than done, a voice whispered from somewhere in the back of Marshall's mind. "I agree, we need to get those ships away from the MACs, otherwise they're done for." Marshall turned to the NAV board and saw the trio of enemy Carriers and a host of support vessels that had been giving his fighter screen an extremely hard time, "Weapons control, I want a targeting solution on the Carrier that we've damaged already, synchronize our fire with the Lancer and Durus. We'll need to help out our fighters if we're going to survive this."
The Argive's MAC round tore through space and impacted the side of the damaged Carrier, joined seconds later by those of the Lancer and Durus, shorting out the shields and destroying the Carrier entirely. The Tactical Officer confirmed the kill and Marshall smiled with grim satisfaction. "Prepare another MAC round and then get us into range with the archers, I want to shove a whole broadside down the bastard's throat. Mr. Jansen, please inform the Lancer and Durus that we're going to charge the Carriers, tell them we'll need them to tie up the support vessels long enough for us to get into range."
The Argive fired its MAC again, destroying a nearby support ship and charged headlong into the Carrier formation.
0502 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Halo Flight Squadron near UNSC Destroyer Argive
Rowan cursed as he threw his Longsword into an insanely tight turn, just missing one of his pursuers plasma bursts. The second wave of Covenant fighters had decimated Sierra squadron, killing five more Longswords and severely damaging another with only two losses of their own. Alpha squadron had fared far better, losing only two Longswords and managing to destroy eight Covenant fighters. As for his own Squadron, he'd lost Halo six, nine, and twelve, the worst part was hearing the helplessness in six's voice just before they killed him. "Seven I'm going to need you to cover me here I can't shake these two."
Seven replied almost instantly; "Negative one, I can't get to you I've got three on my tail, you'll have to deal with you're yourself, sorry."
In front of Rowan's fighter the trio of Destroyers began to speed towards the two remaining Carriers, and it was then that Rowan got a crazy idea, "Roger that, seven I think I've found a way to get them off me" Rowan put his engines on maximum and sped towards the Argive's underbelly at full speed.
Rowan saw the Argive's 50mm turrets locking onto his fighter and flew straight towards them, jerking his Longsword out of the way milliseconds before they filled the area his fighter had just vacated with 50mm rounds. His two pursuers weren't as lucky; one was destroyed outright as the bullets punched through the cockpit and detonated his engines, and the other fighter veered hard left, right into a wall of bullets from a second 50mm cannon. Rowan didn't notice any of this since the Argive's guns were still trying to shoot his fighter; a 50mm round missed his cockpit by barely six inches, those idiots are trying to kill me! Rowan banked his Longsword around and hit the throttle sending the Longsword back towards the engagement zone.
0518 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive inside Reach Battle Zone
The Argive's MAC round punched through the Carrier's portside hangar bays tearing a chunk out of the Carrier and destroying countless bombers and fighters in the process. "Alright open up with a full broadside to the exposed section. Throw everything we have at them."
A full broadside of Archer missiles erupted from the Argive sending a wall of death hurtling towards the wounded Carrier. Dozens of missiles penetrated in the very heart of the vessel, taking out vital systems and tearing up the insides of the ship. Virtually powerless, and leaking oxygen in over two-dozen places, the Carrier would become a tomb to any Covenant unfortunate enough to have survived the pounding their vessel had weathered.
Marshall turned to the Weapons Officer, "Target the next Carrier with the MAC and get those Archer pods reloaded immediately."
The Weapons Officer looked at Marshall with a puzzled expression, "Sir, we aren't going to finish off the Carrier?"
Marshall looked at the crewman with an irritated look on his face; "No, we aren't. There isn't enough ammunition to completely destroy something that is nearly dead already" he replied motioning towards the lamed vessel that filled the Argive's viewport. "Navigation, take us close to the final Carrier long enough for us to unload our ordinance and then get us the hell out of there." He turned back towards the Weapons Officer. "When we get to optimum range open fire with everything we've got, Archers and 50mm, I want those bastards dead in one pass. Understand?"
The Weapons Officer nodded "Yessir." His fingers flying over the controls, preparing the Argive's external ordinance racks for the massive barrage that Marshall had requested.
Marshall looked through the viewport and saw the final Carrier through the debris of its two sister ships. His Longswords were still dog fighting with the Covenant fighters and bombers through the wreckage. Despite their initial success the fighters had been hit hard by the secondary waves of fighters and to his knowledge, Marshall had roughly two-thirds of his fighter screen left. I guess that rules out a strike, too bad, those fighters could've been really useful against those carriers.
The Weapons Officer snapped Marshall out of his thoughts. "Captain, we're in maximum range of the Carrier, permission to open fire?
Marshall nodded. "Permission granted, target their engines if possible, the faster we are the harder the target."
A rumble sounded throughout the ship as the Argive's MAC fired at the Carrier's engines. The MAC round speed through space at several hundred kilometers per second impacted the Carrier's engines dead on. The Carrier's shields flickered and died as the massive projectile overloaded its generators, punching through the port engine array and into the stern-most fighter bays.
Marshall looked on with dismay. Damn. I'd hoped that we'd have been able to cripple the Carrier; it'll still be able to move. Our chances of coming out of this undamaged are pretty slim now. I should've held off until we reached a closer range. He glanced towards the Weapons Officer, "Good work Mr. Crawley. Now prepare to fire a massed broadside on my mark." A panicked voice filled the bridge; Marshall heard it coming from the Comm. terminal and made his way over to the console. "Mr. Jansen what's the problem?"
The Comm. Officer cast a nervous glance at the Captain and stammered, "Sir two more Covenant Cruisers and their escorts have arrived to reinforce the Carrier. Lancer and Durus are trying to hold them off but they don't think they can for long."
"Well I guess we've got to take that Carrier out quickly then. Tell the Lancer and Durus to hold them off as long as possible and to meet us back at the docks to rearm." We're gonna have to make this quick, Lancer might be able to hold out for a while but Durus is damaged, we take too long on this and all three of us are going to end up dead. "Navigation! Take us in full speed, cut power to the engines down to fifty percent when we reach the target and then get us out as fast as you can."
The Tactical Officer called out to Marshall; "Sir! The Carrier has launched its bombers!"
"How long until they reach our fighter screen?"
"Approximately six minutes sir. I've alerted the fighter squadrons already. But they're pretty beat up."
"Inform the fighters that we'll need them to cover us while we make our run on the Carrier. Tell them to stay close to our guns, we'll try our best to give them some cover with our 50mm's." May God help them, I'm not sure we can.
0523 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Halo Flight Squadron near UNSC Destroyer Argive
Halo seven let out a cheer as the enemy fighter in front of him exploded. He didn't even have time to dodge out of the way before the second fighter loosed off a plasma volley right into his fighter's midsection, burning completely through the engines and destroying the ship.
Rowan saw seven's immolated fighter and let out a curse. Seven's loss had brought Halo Flight down to half-strength. Aside from Rowan only five of the original twelve Longswords of Halo Flight were left. "Ok we've got to stay together. Two and three are with me, five, eight, and eleven form up. We're following the Argive in towards the Carrier, there's no way we'll last out here without nearby support."
Ahead of Halo Flight Sierra Squadron was in trouble, having lost nearly three fourths of their number they were being swamped by enemy fighters. Even Alpha Squadron, one of the best fighter squadrons in the entire system, was having difficulty dealing with the sheer number of Covenant fighters. Yet regardless of the losses the trio of squadrons had suffered none proposed falling back, they all knew what would happen if the bombers managed to overwhelm the Argive's defenses then the Destroyer was finished. The remnants of all three squadrons braced themselves as a fresh wave of fighters and bombers closed the gap.
0534 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive inside Reach Battle Zone
Argive moved into position and opened up on the Carrier with everything she had; dozens of Archer missiles poured into its shields and hundreds 50mm rounds chipped away at armor each passing second. Finally the shields gave way and a second and third volley of Archers punched into the Carrier alongside a continuous rain of 50mm rounds. A few missiles punched deep into the Carrier's heart and impacted its generators causing a chain-reaction, which blew off the entire stern side of the ship. As the Argive pulled away from the dying Carrier towards the rendezvous point the Covenant Cruisers did not attempt to follow; instead they turned back and started to move away from the battle, as did every other able Covenant ship in the system.
Marshall stared at the Tact. Display with disbelief. Marshall overheard one of the bridge crew, he wasn't sure who, probably a Lieutenant, exclaim "Ha, that's right, we beat em' back. We've defeated the Covenant!" No, no no, this isn't right. The Covenant aren't known to run from a battle, especially when they're on the brink of victory. Why didn't they move in and finish us? Marshall glanced back towards the Tact. Display and winced inwardly.
Approximately twenty UNSC vessels were left in operational condition. Durus had been destroyed holding off the Cruisers long enough for Argive to take out the Cruiser and Lancer was drifting powerless some distance away leaking oxygen from numerous rents in her hull. Over a hundred destroyed UNSC vessels littered the space around Reach and an unknown number of Covenant craft accompanied them.
There's no way the Covenant are just giving up. We need to get back and rearm before they decide to come back. Marshall turned to the Nav. Officer; "We need to get to the rendezvous point with the rest of the fleet." If you can still call it a fleet.
The Nav. Officer stared at Marshall for a moment with a look of shock plastered on her face. "Captain what about Lancer? There could still be crew trapped inside. We need to help them."
Marshall didn't look at the woman who had just voiced what his conscience screamed at him to do. "Negative, we can't help them, we need to get to the rendezvous point before the Covenant come back at us.
Once again Marshall heard the officer speaking to him, this time there was a tremble in her voice, whether of anger or sorrow he couldn't tell. "The Covenant have retreated sir! They lost almost a hundred ships! Nobody would ever keep coming against the MAC platforms! We have to help the Lancer!
Marshall turned towards the Officer; rage temporarily taking over at the fact that he wholeheartedly agreed with what his Nav. Officer wanted to do but knew he couldn't save the Lancer's crew. "That is a negative! We need to return to the rendezvous point before the Covenant return again. Think about it, why would the Covenant retreat from a battle that they could have easily won? We have twenty ships left; even with the Orbital MACs they could still get this planet if they really wanted to. They're up to something and are going to be coming back at us twice as hard as before. We can't help the Lancer's crew if we're dead, once this battle is over then we'll be able to help them, not any sooner."
The bridge was dead silent save for the electrical hum of machinery and the Nav. Officer's strangled sobs, then the Comm. Officer broke the silence. "Sir, message from FLEETCOM! Enemy dropships have been spotted near the northern and southern poles! They're trying to land on Reach!
Somewhere deep in Marshall's subconscious an antagonizing voice sprung into existence, I told you so. "How many are there?"
"Unknown. At least a thousand, probably more."
A chill ran up Marshall's spine. They're going for the generators! If we lose those then Reach is wide open for attack! "Take us to the nearest pole, we need to destroy as many of those dropships as we can. Send out our Longswords too, tell them to keep on those dropships until they're out of targets or ammunition."
The Argive reached the northern pole along with several other UNSC vessels. Most were Marathon-class Cruisers or Frigates but there was a light Carrier, The Bismuth, and a Halcyon-class Cruiser, The Pillar of Autumn. The combined efforts of the nine UNSC vessels destroyed hundreds of dropships but hundreds more survived long enough to descend to the surface of Reach. Marshall looked out the viewport at the surface of Reach with a feeling of pity for the men and women on the planet. They're gonna be in for a hell of a fight.
The Fall of Reach: Battle for Reach Ch. 3
Date: 15 April 2006, 1:54 pm
Ch 3: Landfall
0536 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Reach Northern Hemisphere, Merion River Valley
Recon Sniper Hannah Davis looked down on the advancing alien horde with unbridled fear. The alien dropships fell like rain; each disgorging dozens of aliens onto the valley floor, there were easily thousands of the enemy already moving down towards the generator complex.
Hannah switched her headset frequency to her dispatch. "This is recon 2-A; have a visual of Covenant ground forces at approximately one hundred degrees longitude, forty seven degrees latitude.
For a couple of seconds there was only static and then a voice broke through; "Roger that recon 2-A, can you give us an approximate number of hostiles?"
What the hell is wrong with them? Why are they asking me? They can get a satellite image of the valley.... unless the satellites are down! But that means... "There's thousands of em' with more on the way. It looks like they're moving down the valley towards the Omega Armory. The way they're moving I'd say the first elements will reach it in ten to fifteen minutes."
There was a couple more seconds of static before the officer replied again; "Roger that recon, HighCom has ordered you to pull back to the armory.
Hannah looked down at the sea of Covenant making they're way down the valley with incredulity at what she'd just heard the man at the other end just say. "Sir, did I just hear you say to make my way to Omega Armory?"
This time there was no delay of static; the officer answered her question immediately, annoyance easily detectable in his voice. "Affirmative recon 2-A you are to make your way to Omega Armory ASAP. They'll need all the help they can get holding it if there's as many hostiles as you say there are."
Glancing at the enemy dropships that kept falling like hail to the planet below Hannah picked her sniper rifle up off the boulder it had been resting on, shaking her head in utter disbelief. "Sir, with all due respect, there is no way we'll be able to hold the armory even with the entire garrison fully entrenched."
Once again her dispatch officer replied instantly, this time he sounded agitated and Hannah could hear someone shouting something indiscernible in the background. "Omega Armory is the largest weapons cache we have in the immediate area. It's the only thing standing between the generators and the Covenant. It has to hold. You have your orders."
As much as Hannah wanted to argue with him she knew he was right; if the Covenant got the generators then Reach would be lost. "Roger that, moving out." Hannah slung her rifle over her shoulder and began to make her way through the dense evergreen forests towards the armory, hoping she got there before the Covenant did.
0544 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Reach Northern Hemisphere, HighCom Armory Omega
Private Campbell's Sergeant was shouting orders to almost anyone who twitched. The ride to Omega Armory had been hectic; less than two hours to transport the entire ninth division and then get defensive emplacements set to optimum efficiency in addition to distributing ammo. "Mellani, Carter, Wilson! Get into position now! I want everyone into defensive positions ASAP!" Then he motioned towards the edge of the valley where the first wave of Covenant had already appeared some six hundred yards away and were presently being pummeled by the armory's long-range artillery. "They're going to throw they're Grunts at us first and'll probably keep trying until we're wore down enough. Now we can't afford to lose this position. If we break here and the Covenant make it to the Orbital Generators the Orbital MACs are useless and we're all as good as dead." He let this all sink in and finally shouted "But that's not gonna happen, is it Marines?" He was awarded with a chorus of hoo-hah's and then got down behind the barricade, settling into the trench.
A second barrage of artillery fire pounded the advancing Covenant killing hundreds. Still they came, huge groups of Grunts bounding to reach the marine's positions virtually uncaring about the losses they suffered. The surviving aliens were pummeled again by a third barrage but kept right on running towards their objective. The first wave of Grunts was nearly two hundred yards away from the marine line now and was exchanging fire with the deeply entrenched marines.
Campbell fired his battle rifle without the aid of the weapon's scope; he didn't even need to aim; this is what his instructors would have referred to as a "target rich environment" which basically meant that you could shoot pretty much anywhere and hit something you wanted to. The dull thump of the artillery was nearly deafening by now, the guns were firing almost incessantly due to the size of the enemy force. Behind the first wave of Grunts was a second, third, fourth, and fifth wave just waiting for their brethren in front of them to die thus giving them a chance to kill the humans. Campbell's shot hit a Grunt in the forehead; the armor piercing round tearing into his skull before detonating inside the alien's grey matter, exploding his head in a shower of gore. Beside him Private Mellani, armed with a "Jackhammer" Rocket Launcher fired into the advancing tide of enemies, both rockets blasting huge holes in the already weakened Grunt line. However, even as the first wave began to falter beneath the weight of the marines' fire they revealed a fresh wave of enemy targets.
0544 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Halo Flight Squadron over Reach's Northern Hemisphere
Rowan jerked his fighter out of the way of a burning dropship as the planet's gravitational forces proved too much for it's failing engines and tore it out of the sky. As his Longsword shot back to the battlezone he cursed inwardly at himself; there's too many of these friggin dropships, we'll never be able to take enough out before they get groundside. Nevertheless he targeted the nearest horseshoe-shaped dropship and let fly an ASGM-10 missile. Before he even saw the explosion engulf the dropship in a sphere of red-orange flame he had already targeted another dropship and loosed his second missile at its target, which, like the first, exploded in a shower of rapidly dissipating blossom of flame and debris.
Rowan heard a panicked voice buzzing in his eardrum; it wasn't anyone he could recognize but with the state of disarray the Longsword squadrons were in he wasn't really surprised at the fact. "We've got Seraph's coming in hot! I repeat; enemy fighters inbou…" The voice was abruptly cut short by a hiss of static as the pilot's cockpit was most likely engulfed in plasma.
Once again Rowan cursed; there were too many dropships already but now with Covenant fighters joining the fray his job would be all the more difficult. Rowan switched his comm. over to the squadron frequency. "Two, three stay on my wing, we're going to blast our way through the dropships. We need to try to get to the fighters before they can mix with the dropships." Both Halo two and three voiced that they understood and seconds later the three fighters were juking and jinking through tumbling wreckage, slashing plasma, and cruising dropships as they sped towards downed Longsword's last location.
Rowan switched to weapons control over his two rotary cannons and set them to tracer fire once every ten rounds before firing straight ahead of him into the hurtling morass of ships and debris. Rowan saw two other lines of cannon fire stitching through the air beside his; he could hardly believe that two and three had managed to stay on his wing this entire time in all the chaos. Halo one, two, and three sped through the engagement zone destroying anything that got in their way as they went, taking out about a dozen more dropships before they reached the Covenant's Seraph fighters.
Covenant fighters, nicknamed Seraphs by UNSC fighter jockeys for an unknown reason, were the Covenant's main offensive option against the UNSC's Longsword fighters. Though unshielded like the Covenant dropships they are very deadly due to their armament of high-velocity plasma torpedoes that hunt down enemy fighters with brutal efficiency. A Seraph is fast too; a skilled pilot could easily fly circles around a Longsword fighter. Roughly teardrop shaped a Seraph looks needle-like crimson blur when going at full speed.
At this moment Rowan could see two squadrons of Seraphs bearing down on the engagement zone. They sped towards battlezone without so much as an indication that they were aware a flight of Longswords was sneaking up behind their formation. The three Longswords swung around behind the rearmost Seraph formation and held a distance of sixty meters behind them. Rowan switched over to his missiles and targeted the outermost fighter and then opened his flight's frequency; "Two, three target the fighters on the outside of the formation. We might be able to get off two missiles off without them even knowing we're there." In truth, Rowan was amazed that the fighters hadn't broken formation and sent him to a fiery grave, I guess with all the crap going on up here they aren't really concerned with three enemy contacts, well lets show them the error of their ways.
All three Longswords fired off their first missiles in unison and seconds later they were rewarded with three painfully bright explosions as their missiles found their mark. Seconds after the first missiles hit their targets a second volley was launched reducing three more Seraphs to their component atoms. By now the Seraph squadron knew something was up and broke formation falling back towards the origin of the attack. Rowan knew that the Longswords were no match against the Seraphs if they stayed in formation so he ordered them to break off and engage the enemy.
Rowan jerked his fighter to the left alongside Halo three as a plasma round tore into the area where his Longsword had occupied mere seconds before. Rowan switched from missiles over to the Longsword's dual rotary cannons with a shake of his head, he'd hoped they could have evened the odds before breaking formation and inviting a dogfight. Missiles, while helpful, operated much more effectively against moving targets when properly locked, which, unfortunately for him, required a few seconds more than he could spare when he had an enemy trailing him and besides that he was running low on missiles anyway.
An edgy voice issued through Rowan's earpiece; "This is Halo two in need of assistance. I have two; make that three bogeys on my tail. Requesting assistance from any nearby freindlies." Rowan brought his fighter around in a tight arc in an effort to shake off any of his pursuers before blasting towards two's position. It didn't look good; two wasn't exaggerating when he said that he needed help. It was as if the four fighters were performing some incredibly complex dance; two's fighter twirled around in nearly impossible helix dodging plasma sometimes by mere centimeters, the liquid energy painting the Longsword an almost beautiful shade of purple by its proximity to the fighter. The beautiful dance ended abruptly seconds later when a plasma round burnt right into two's aft wing shearing it off completely causing his fighter to thrash into an uncontrolled dive which, at the speeds his Longsword was currently experiencing, tore his smashed fighter into shreds.
Cursing at the Seraphs, Rowan targeted the lead fighter, armed his last missile, and fired it as soon as he heard the telltale buzz that indicated a successful target lock. He switched over to his cannons and sprayed a hail of bullets into the two remaining Seraphs who were still too confused at the sudden destruction of their leader to be in any coherent state.
It was only after the three Seraphs had been destroyed that Rowan noticed an altogether different buzz than the one that belonged to his targeting system; he was low on fuel, ammunition, oxygen, and to top it off his Longsword was damaged in half-a-dozen places, Rowan shook his head; if the readings his screen gave him were accurate it was a miracle that his bird hadn't fallen apart already. Bringing his fighter into a steep decline, Rowan aimed his fighter towards the surface of Reach towards the nearest UNSC facility for repairs.
As his much-abused fighter neared the huge military facility he overshot a seething mass of bodies below him. For a moment he thought that he had merely passed over a meadow but once he got a little lower in altitude he could clearly identify the insect-like shapes of Wraith mortar tanks. Christ! I know we'd missed a lot of dropships but not that many! There were streams of plasma arcing in lazy parabolas over the battlefield and the gentle plumes of smoke that issued from the installation's artillery.
He heard an extremely strained voice crackle over his earpiece; "Unidentified flyer this is HighCom Armory Omega, please transfer your naval identification codes. Failure to comply will result in the destruction of your aircraft, you have thirty seconds."
Wow! These guys aren't playing around, they're pretty freaked out, but I can't really blame them with that huge army practically on their doorstep, man the navy really screwed up royally today. Rowan hastily punched in his ID codes and transferred them to the command center's computer. He held his breath as he neared the base; seeing as they're so jumpy they might just decide to play it safe and blast me outta the sky.
The voice returned, now sounding more relieved, through Rowan's earpiece again just as he crossed over the armory's defensive perimeter; "Welcome Flight Commander Rowan, how can we be of service today?"
A wide grin spread over Rowan's face as he felt a wave of relief wash over him. "Well, you can start by giving me a place to land."
0558 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Argive in geosynchronous orbit over Reach
The remains of the UNSC fleet mopped up the few Covenant dropships that hadn't been quick enough to reach the inner atmosphere of the planet. They numbered around twenty in all; less than a tenth of the original UNSC vessels remained in a battle ready state. Several other surviving UNSC vessels were spread throughout the system albeit not considered battle-ready in the slightest.
At this moment however, Marshall couldn't worry about their helpless allies or their dying crew. He had to regroup with the remaining force in a last ditch effort to stage some form of defense for the surviving orbital MACs. The stranded crews would have to wait, however much it killed him to admit it, if they were to have any chance of saving Reach from the horrific fate that so many other human worlds had had to suffer.
"Sir, our sensors have picked up many gravitational distortions at the edge of the system. They match up almost perfectly with the known effects of Covenant slipspace drives."
Marshall swore; the crew, used to his casual curses by now didn't even stir. "Inform the groundside installations that we probably won't be able to hold for much longer. Tell them that we'll hold for as long as we can but we can't make any promises."
Marshall walked over to the viewport and once again glanced at the lush-green planet below with an expression of deep sorrow. Such a pretty place. It's practically a sin that a world as beautiful as this is going to be destroyed for no reason. I wonder if anything we could have done differently would have changed its fate. Marshall turned and solemnly made his way back to the center of the bridge.
The Comm. officer turned to Marshall; "Sir, most of the Longswords are running low on fuel and ammunition. The Belisarious is gone and the only Carrier left is The Bismuth but she's out of range. The fleet is redirecting them to the groundside installations for refit and repair, that way they'll be able to get back in the air as soon as possible. Unfortunately we can't count on getting any more support from them."
"Marshall looked at the officer in surprise. Didn't he know that we need as much help as we can get up here? Nevertheless, if they could keep the orbital generators up and running then they might have a chance of holding off the Covenant fleet, but it would be an insanely close call. "Very good, lieutenant. Tell them to keep the Covenant's ground forces off at all costs." He turned to his Nav officer; "What's the situation with those gravitic anomalies? If they were Covenant slipspace signatures they would have been here by now."
The flustered Nav officer frowned at his console, with a look of bewilderment plastered on his features. "I…don't know captain. I'm sure that they were spatial distortions but I don't understand why we haven't seen any transfers yet. The Covenant's slipspace drives are a great deal more sophisticated, they would have transferred the vessels almost instantaneously over such a short span of space." The officer faced Marshall with a look of resignation; "It could either be they're retreating or they could be bringing friends."
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