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The Flames of Perdition by Colossus



Flames of Perdition
Date: 22 April 2006, 2:00 am

Flames of Perdition

Day 22

      The Marines had been in the same stretch of forest for over two hours now.
      Hidden in ambush, they waited to strike. Their clothes different shades of white, they blended in perfectly with the harsh snowy terrain to which they had become accustomed to. They hid under snow banks, in fox holes, in ditches formed from artillery, under fallen foliage, in trees, under the wreaks of vehicles. They were in textbook ambush position.
      The only missing factor was the Covenant recon team that was supposed to be coming through the clearing.
      Marine Captain Zadeka (known jokingly to his soldiers as The Shadow.) was laying flat on his stomach underneath a large pile of broken pine tree branches. His sniper-rifle, built and camouflaged for the arctic climate was aimed at the beginning of the clearing where the foothills of the Masonic mountains sloped down and leveled out between two enormous and ancient pine trees.
      The Marines had been encamped for over two weeks on this section of Perdition. Perdition HQ had ordered a full scale retreat from Sector A-19 whenever Covenant forces landed a massive invasion force nearby. Captain Zadeka of Firebase Charlie had been ordered to beat a hasty retreat back to Sector B-3, when an advance Covenant assault strike force overran the base, destroying all their vehicles. The Captain had ordered his men into the woods to an unknown abandoned outpost nearby.
      The Covenant had raised Firebase Charlie to the ground.
      The Captain waited for the Covenant to appear through the clearing. He would take the first shot with his sniper rifle. Then, he would signal the other snipers with a green flag. Then his special infantry with a red flag. If there were vehicles, which there most assuredly were, he'd toss out a blue flag, and the three hidden rocket jockeys would open up. If the stuff hit the fan, he'd toss out a black flag, and they'd double time it back as stealthily as possible.
      The first Covenant through the clearing was a black armored Elite veteran. The alien sniffed the air, and clenched his carbine around his chest. Then continued forward.
      Zadeka drew a beat on the Elite. One. Two. One. Two. Zadeka counted the Elite's steps, synchronous with Zadeka's heart beat. He placed the targeter right of the Elite's head. One. Two. One. Two. Zadeka pulled the trigger, and a muffled bang echoed. The Elite dropped dead in its tracks, blood spilling through the gaping wound in his forehead.
      A column of Elite's, headed by a veteran in maroon armor, entered the clearing next. They spotted the dead Elite, and advanced cautiously forward, hands tightening on their weapons.
      Zadeka tossed out the green flag.
      Sniper bullets rained down all around the Elites, pinning them flat like insects. A pair of bullets took an Elite straight through the midsection, and it stumbled backwards into another one. That Elite collided with the veteran. The veteran took a bullet straight through the helmet, and it went down. More bullets, more bodies. In several seconds, the entire squad was eliminated.
      There was a distant rumbling sound, which confirmed Zadeka's fear of enemy vehicles. More Covenant poured down the sloping gap into the clearing. Perfect.
      Zadeka tossed the red flag, and finely placed bullets cut into the Covenant troops like a scalpel. Elites fell under perfectly placed combined fire. Grunts well killed by the scores with headshots. Jackals were thrown into discord by sniper fire, and soon the infantry platoon of Covenant was in a huddled, confused mass. They fired blindly into the forest, hitting each other or hitting trees. Either way, it didn't matter.
      "Hit em', Marines! Hit them, you Flames of Perdition!" Sergeant Jonas "Tank" Gaunt barked.
      A fragmentation grenade landed in the midst of the Covenant infantry. Some tried to dodge, but were caught up in a tangle of flailing limbs and shots. The rest of the squad died in the confusion.
      The rumbling of vehicles was much louder. A Covenant Wraith entered through the gap, with a pair of Ghosts right behind it. Zadeka tossed out the blue flag.
      Sniper rounds tore through the Ghosts' gas tanks, and they exploded, killing their pilots. The Wraith fired a mortar, and it smashed into a towering tree. There were yells of surprise and pain from that area, and the tree fell backwards into the forest. A pair of rockets smashed into the Wraith, and it exploded outwards in a fire-blossom of shrapnel.


      Hours later, at night time, Captain Zadeka walked through the carnage of that days battle. The Covenant had not been back to collect their dead or their vehicles, and the bodies of the fallen had already been half covered with snow. He held a triplet of dog tags clenched tight in his hands. Materializing, as if from nowhere, came Sergeant Gaunt. His camo-cloak blew eerily in the still night. He lifted the pair of heat-vision goggles from his face.
      "No Covenant hiding out here, sir. They really bugged out, after today. Not even the regular camos they have out patrolling."
      "That's good to hear, sergeant."
      "How many did we lose today, sir?" The sergeant asked. Sergeant Gaunt was a grizzled veteran of over a dozen campaigns. He hated to see his men die, but knew the sacrifice of their lives was for the greater good of the entirety of the human race.
      "Three. Wallace, Hershel, and Moskal," Zadeka said. He held out his hand, and dropped the dog tags into the sergeant's hand.
      "That's a tough loss sir. I mean, we killed atleast fifty of the bastards, not to mention a tank and two of their skirmishers, but Moskal was our best sniper. It's a tough blow."
      "I wouldn't want to trade one of my men for a thousand of the Covenant if I could choose. But this is war, Sarge. Moskal knew what he was doing when he signed up for today's outing. He knew his duty, and he served it well.
      "Ayuh. Judging by the angle of some of these fallen bodies, it looks like he was responsible for nearly ten of these Elite casualties," the sergeant added, grimly. Although the lower downs called him "Tank", Sergeant Jonas Gaunt was anything but stupid. In fact, the captain found the man's intellect almost frightening. Gaunt's physical prowess was surpassed only by his mental prowess, and Gaunt was a big man. Zadeka knew that lurking behind Jonas Gaunt's powerful muscles, was an even more powerful, almost infinitely powerful, mind.
      "Let's go back to base, Sarge."
      "Right behind you, sir," the sergeant added and followed the Captain back to base.



Flames of Perdition Ch. 2
Date: 26 April 2006, 1:39 am

Chapter 2

      Even before they had crossed the threshold into Outpost Alpha, nicknamed by the soldiers under Zadeka's command as Outpost Angel, the soldiers inside threw up a loud cheer for the Captain and the sergeant. The bright interior lights threw out in stark contrast to the cloudy, moonless night.
      The captain took in the sight at a glance. The men had broken into the ale, again. He didn't blame them. What his men had done that day was nothing short of a miracle. An entire Covenant recon team eliminated.
      A corporal was slumped unconscious in a corner, and one of the overhead lamps was twisted at an odd angle. Men sat around the long tables with large, frosty mugs of ale in one hand, and a cigar or cigarette or the occasional pipe in the other. Beer and ale was sloshed all around the room. On the tables, the counters, on the floor, on the pool table. There were men hugging each other, fighting each other, anything. Then again, the captain couldn't blame them. These men had so far lived through over three weeks of hell. They deserved the reward.
      The captain walked briskly towards the other end of the mess hall. He flung open the door, and proceeded down a hallway, Sergeant Gaunt following swiftly at his heels. He reached the end of the hallway, and found the elevator that ran between the first, second, and basement floors of the small outpost. The sergeant stepped inside with him, and hit the button for the second floor.
      "What are we going to do now, captain?" the sergeant asked nonchalantly.
      "What do you mean, sergeant?"
      "You know damn well what I mean, sir. The Covenant will be here by tomorrow. An entire recon force was completely and utterly eliminated. They're not going to sit idly by and let this go. They'll come again. In force."
      "I understand what you're saying, sergeant," the captain said. The elevator reached the second floor, and the doors slid open silently. A corporal and a private stood guard at the top, MA5B assault rifles at the ready. There was only one room on the second floor, the Captain's office. Captain Zadeka walked briskly down the hallway, one arm crooked behind his back, the other still clutching his BR55 rifle by the optics rack.
      The captain entered his office with the sergeant close on his heels. The office was large, and spacious. Off to the left was a door that lead to the Captain's private bathroom. There was a tactical map that showed force deployments, artillery locations, and troop movements of both the Covenant and UNSC forces. A ceiling fan twirled above their heads, sending motes of dust spinning in an invisible cyclone. Several weapons were propped against a wall. A large steel desk dominated the center of the room, with a computer to one side of it, a chess set in the middle, and a pair of overly stuffed chairs on either side. Papers and half-empty coffee cups were littered across the room. A large cactus was potted near an enormous book shelf on the right wall.
      "Please, be seated sergeant," the captain said. "And let's have us a little, friendly game, shall we?"
      "I'll be black this time, sir. Give you an advantage," the sergeant added almost dully. They set up the pieces, and the captain moved first, moving his queen pawn out two spaces.
      "So, sergeant, what do you suggest we do? If the Covenant are coming, and we both know they are, what are we going to do?"
      Gaunt moved his right knight pawn out one space. "I suggest we start setting up additional defensive fortifications. Booby traps, fall back point, reinforcing certain points of the outpost."
      "That won't stop them forever."
      "Of course it won't, sir," moving knight out into the field. "But it will stall them long enough for reinforcements to arrive,"
      Bishop to take knight. "And if reinforcements don't arrive?"
      Rook into the fray. "Then we hold out as long as we can. Fight to the very last man, if we have to. Take as much as a toll on them as we can."
      King-side castle. "Not the best advice. I don't like it. I want to get these men out of here sergeant. We need a ride, and we need it fast."
      Queen to take rook. "And how do you suppose we do that, captain?"
      Queen to take queen. "We've been intercepting communications from the Covenant for quite some time now. There's a Covenant Prophet here onboard an enemy destroyer."
      King-side castle. "And how is this supposed to help us?"
      Bishop to take left rook pawn. "We board the destroyed, capture the Prophet, and use it to buy us a ride home."
      Left knight out. "Easier said then done, sir. It'll be crawling with enemy forces, to say the least. And we have no idea how to fly the ship, let alone get aboard. What do you suggest we do, now?"
      "Simple," the captain said. "We draw them into us. Give them the bait, and see if they follow. If they do, we lure them in, and," moves queen next to bishop, ending the game. "Checkmate."



Flames of Perdition Chapter 3
Date: 30 June 2006, 6:54 pm

Chapter 3

Day 26


      Corporal Langley crawled through the underbrush on his stomach, pine-needles and twigs poking uncomfortably into him. Ahead, there was a large pile of fallen sticks and twigs, creating the perfect spotting post. He flipped the enhanced targeter down over his eye, and focused on the enemy Covenant at a distance.
      A dozen Covenant patrols, the first line of defense for the gravity lift of the hovering Covenant destroyer, milled about absent-mindedly, completely unaware to the ambush set up all around them.
      The corporal leveled his modified pistol at the patrols. The pistol automatically adjusted to the enhanced targeter's sight. A bunch of patrols broke off, leaving a pair of Grunts and a Jackal standing alone. Langley slowly targeted the Jackal's head. It turned it's back, and Langley fired. A silenced bullet tore through the Jackal's neck. It clutched to it, making muffled gurgling noises. Then it collapsed into the thawing snow.
      The Grunts wheeled around, making high-pitched yelping noises that felt like rape on the corporal's ears. Another pair of bullets flew out, and the two Grunts fell silent. Langley motioned for the rest of his team, four marine privates, to move up to his position.
      "Red One, this is Blue One. Over," Langley spoke into his headset. There was a ten-second delay, and then Captain Zadeka spoke in. "What's your position, Red One? Over."
      "Sir, in position and ready to roll. Three Covenant sentries are already neutralized. Awaiting further orders. Over."
      Another pause. "Sit tight, Blue team. There's going to be a gap in the Covenant patrols in about three minutes. When it comes, I want you to bolt through the hole in their line and start destroying vehicles. When you're out of rockets and demo-charges, start capturing vehicles. I'm sending your team the piloting specs for the Covenant vehicles now. This is Red One, over and out."
      Langley read over the information that scrolled down his targeting enhancer. He put a timer countdown on his targeter, and waited. The three minutes ticked by slowly. He looked left, and right. Not a Covenant patrol in sight. He waved his team forward some more, then leaped over the pile of debris that was his shooting post. He ran forward, pistol still in one hand, and a hand-held demolitions charge in the other. The four privates behind him dogged it with their rocket launchers slung over this shoulders.
      The team reached the Covenant vehicle lot in just under a minute at a breakneck run. There were only a few Grunt patrols around the lot, and Langley quickly silenced them with his pistol. He slapped one of his demo-charges against the side of an enemy Banshee, and set the timer for 10 seconds. He ran like hell back the other way, and the Banshee detonated in a ball of fire, sending a flaming hot invisible fist against the corporal's back. The other men under his command were working on the other Covenant vehicles. Seven Ghosts and four Banshees were already out of commission. Then the corporal noticed something that chilled his bones.
      Where were the Wraiths?
      A burst of static broke in over Langley's mic. "This is Red One. Corporal, we need you to take out the enemy Wraiths. They're just over a ridge north of your position. Red One, out."
      "Okay, men, you heard the Captain. Up that ridge, set your charges for remote detonation. Now move!" the corporal bellowed. The five man squad bolted up the steep ridge in front of them, scrambling over the top and back on their feet in just under forty seconds. In this part of the camp, the snow had melted, leaving fresh, green, springy grass in it's wake.
      The Wraiths were dead ahead in front of them. The men ran up and slapped demolition charges onto the sides of the Wraiths' stubby anti-grav wings. "Fall back!" Langley bellowed. The team triple-timed it back and jumped, sliding down the ridge back to the vehicle park. As soon as they were clear, they hit the remote-detonators, and a wave of scorching heat broke over the ridge, and shards of flaming metal flew over their heads. However, the Covenant patrols were back in this position, making runs for their vehicles. A dozen Covenant were in the park, several of which were Elite's.
      Langley yelled into his mic. "Captain, this is Blue One. Enemy artillery eliminated, but now we've got enemy reinforcements in the vehicle lot. We need immediate support here. Over." The corporal was slumped against the rocky ridge-line. He holstered the pistol, and shouldered the MA5B slung over their backs. His men switched to assault weapons, too. The fired down into the enemy, bullets scything through the Grunts. Combined fire removed the Elites, but more enemies just kept coming.
      A pair of Hunters lumbered into the lot, and leveled their left arms, fuel-rod cannons glowing sickly green. A pair of rockets connected dead center on each of the Hunters. Corporal Langley glanced to his left, where the rockets had come from, and saw a trio of rocket jockeys, led by Sergeant "Tank" Gaunt. The tired Marines climbed down from the cliff they were slumped against and ran double time to the sergeant.
      Corporal Langley looked up into Gaunt's coal-grey eyes. The Sarge stood head and shoulders above the rest of the men.
      "Damn, Sarge, are we ever glad to see you," Langley burst out.
      "Mhmm, damned right you are. Now follow me, double time. We need to remove the Covenant's grip on the grav-lift area."
      "How are we going to do that, sergeant?" a private inquired.
      "We're going to charge right into them. The Captain and the rest of Red and Green teams are at the only opening to the lift area. We're going to provide them covering fire from the cliff above them. Now let's move it out, double time. Go go GO!"
And with that the sergeant took off in a straight bolt, shotgun hugged against his chest.
      "You heard the sergeant!" Langley shouted at his squad. "Now let's go!" and the rest of Blue team charged off.



Flames of Perdition Chapter 4
Date: 30 June 2006, 6:55 pm

Chapter 4


      Captain Mikhail Zadeka was pinned down behind a pair of boulders with the rest of Red and Green teams. He had dispatched sergeant Jonas Gaunt along with his rocket jockeys to remove the pressure on Blue Team. Now he was pinned down by four enemy turrets that watched the only entrance to the box canyon containing the grav-lift. They pounded merciless plasma fire into the boulders that covered the Captain. Bits of ancient stone chipped off under the constant fire.
      The captain heard footsteps coming towards him. He swung around the boulders, battle-rifle shouldered, and put a burst through the brains of a pair of Grunts. He swung back around into protection just as quick. The men further down the path let up a cheer at seeing the captain kill so easily. The body of one of the Grunt's tumbled down the hill where he sat. He saw a plasma grenade roll out of the Grunt's bandolier, and snatched it. He peeked just slightly over the boulder, trying to find the approximate location of one of the turrets. He spotted it, and within a second three of the turrets had turned to fire on the movement. He ducked back down, burning plasma skimming mere feet above his head. He turned, primed the plasma grenade, and threw it in a flat arc in one deft move, and then swung around the boulder again, covering his head with his arms. There was a startled yell, followed by the tell-tale explosion of the grenade.
      His men let out another cheer.
      A quintet of explosions rocked the area behind Zadeka. Tiny pebbles bounced around, and the shockwave of the explosion caused the captain's teeth to rattle around in his head. Shrill cries of pain erupted from the other side of the boulder. He turned around again, and saw the smoldering wreckage of the four turrets that had him pinned only seconds before. He looked straight up and saw sergeant Gaunt, along with a team of rocket jockeys, standing on the cliff a straight twenty meters up.
      "Great to see you, sergeant!" the Captain called up, a smile spreading on his face.
      "Great to see you still alive, sir!" the sergeant responded from above.
      Zadeka leapt to his feet. "Alright, men! The turrets are down. On your feet, up and at 'em. Do you want to live forever?" Their response was unanimous and powerful. "Alright then, into the breach!" he barked. He held his battle rifle high into the air above his head, other hand punching into the sky. He slung the battle-rifle across his back, and grabbed the pair of SMGs at his waist, checked to see if they were loaded, and charged into the grav-lift area. His men let up a cry behind him, but Zadeka didn't look back. The red fury of battle had settled over his mind, blocking out all other thought. He charged, boots digging deep into the thawing snow. He sprayed a trio of Grunt's with a burst of SMG fire, and they toppled over. He saw an Elite ahead, and opened up into the alien with both SMGs. It bellowed, its shields flashing, and then fell back as a bullet broke the shield and took it straight between the eyes.
      He took cover behind a rocky outcropping, and reloaded both SMGs. He leapt over the rocks, and charged straight at a Jackal. The captain leapt at it with a flying kick, sending it sprawling backwards. The Jackal over-loaded its pistol. The captain dropped an SMG, and grabbed the bird-like alien's pistol hand, wrenching the pistol from its hands. He turned it onto the Jackal, and fired, overloading its shield. The Captain dropped the plasma pistol and punched the Jackal square across the jaw. It reeled back onto the ground, and Zadeka fired a coup d' grace into the fallen alien.
      He knelt to pluck up his second SMG when sergeant Gaunt called down to him. "Captain! Behind you!"
      Zadeka instinctively turned, and brought his free hand just in time to see a sword wielding Elite bearing down on him. The Elite brought the sword down, cutting off Zadeka's arm half way down the bicep, cauterizing it instantly. He let out an eerie, unmistakable sound of absolute pain. Bullets from all direction hammered into the Elite, and it dropped in a second. A pair of privates rushed to the Captain's side, one grabbing his shoulders, the other grabbing his feet. They picked him up and rushed him off the field.
      Zadeka watched as he was born away from the battle. Marines poured into the breach, firing weapons as they went. He saw sergeant Gaunt sliding down a rappel-line, firing his pistol in one hand as he went. The sergeant screamed, "For the captain! Charge!" as the Marines let out a ferocious, blood-thirsty cry, and the Captain slipped into unconsciousness.





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