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Fallen Angels Chapter 1: Operation Angeles
Posted By: Captain Bishop
Date: 18 March 2006, 5:14 am
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AN:
This is my first fanfiction, so I apologize for any GPS errors and stuff like that. Also i may have the wrong definition for Fallen Angels. I just thought that my definition suited the story best. Anyway thanks for reading my piece. Any constructive criticism will be appreciated.
End AN
December 15, 2552 (Standard Military Calendar)
1852 hours
Earth/ United States
ETA 18 minutes
Operation Angeles
"Damnit! Where the hell is that back up! Simmons, punch us into Fleet comm!
"This is Master Sergeant Benedict Maxwell. Does anyone read me!"
"This is Victor 667. We read you loud and clear Sarge. Is Charlie Company still with us? Over."
"Affirmative Victor 667. Things are heating up down here. But we should be able to hold them off for an hour—maybe less. What's your ETA? Over"
"ETA in eighteen minutes. We'll be there as soon as we can, over and out."
The roar of the pelicans' engines could be heard for miles. 186 Division of ODST, The Fallen Angels, were nearing the LZ. Captain Jacob S. Bishop inspected Foxtrot.
They were dubbed the Fallen Angels for one reason: they killed like them. They were hard core to the bone. They had to be if they ever wanted to live up to their name. They were the angels and messengers of God. They lost their wings for going against him. To repent for this, God made them his personal army. They were his punishers sent to purge his Kingdom of the sinful, the heathens, and the unjust.
Right now, those sinners are the Covenant.
"Everyone good?" he said into his squad's comm.
16 red acknowledgement lights winked on his HUD.
"Thought so," he looked over to the warrior that towered over the rest of his squad. Major Petty Officer Spartan 242.
"Ma'am," he gave a crisp salute. The Spartan turned and returned the salute "Thank you for agreeing on coming with us on this mission."
The Spartan gave a curt nod and continued to look out the rear hatch of the drop ship.
He pondered at what reasons a Spartan would be accompanying a batch of ODSTs on a mission to secure a captured military base. It was ONI, after all who had assigned a new generation Spartan II to them. A new gen Spartan II was one thing to be concerned about, but if ONI was involved he knew this mission wasn't going to be as easy as it sounded.
He had never taken a liking towards the Spartans. He never hated them, of course. With all the successes with the Spartan projects had brought to the UNSC. He never hated, he just disliked. The Spartans seemed artificial. As if it was a hollow shell. No soul just the will to kill. That was how the Helljumpers portray them. He knew this wasn't true, for he had met many Spartans in his services on Earth. Hell, 242 saved his ass on numerous occasions back during Operation Everest. But Operation Everest was a different story. The Covenant found something their and ONI wanted it too. Captain Bishop knew that this was gonna be the same thing.
He shook these memories out of his head and focused on the rest of his team members. Corporal Kayla Barrett. She was assigned to the Fallen Angels three years ago. When she got to the 186th division she was like any other new recruit. And like the others, he had personally trained her to become the keen sniper she was today.
But she's only 24 and here we are possibly sending her to her death. Why the hell is such a young girl here? Why are any of us here?, he questioned. Why was anyone fighting? The humans? The Covenant? Almost all of the soldiers in the Fallen Angels weren't past the age of 36. He was sending kids to their deaths.
This war was just a big load of crap.
Damn. He can't think about these things. He's got a job to do. There is seriously something wrong with me. Second in command, First Lieutenant Jeremy Freeman, his friend since basic, placed his hand on Jacob's shoulder.
"Bishop—sir, are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
"Sir…I just got this weird feeling like we ain't gonna get out of here alive." The funny thing is, that Bishop had the same feeling. However, he had to set an example for Foxtrot.
"Stop talking like that, soldier!" commanded Bishop
"Sir!" the Lieutenant snapped to attention, "I apologize, sir!"
"Apology accepted. Now listen up!" he barked over the comm.
"We are gonna land right in the fray and blow the shit out of those squid-faced bastards, stop the invasion of New Angeles, and look good doing it!"
"HOO-RAH!" the ODSTs replied in unison.
The Captain smiled behind his reflective helmet. His Angels weren't going to fail him. Not now, not ever. But before he could boost his squad any further, the pilot called for him.
"Captain, what do ya make of this?" asked the pilot.
Bishop stood there, awe stricken. A cruiser hovered over the city like some foreboding presence. Most of the city was engulfed in flames. Bluish smoke from the ashes of the once heavily populated city hung in a low fog; proof that the covenant had indeed invaded New Angeles. And far below, in the carnage they could see the LZ. He could see the muzzle flashes and plasma fire etch through the dust the skirmish had created. Charlie company was barely keeping the Covenant off of them.
Bishop snapped out of his daze.
"Marine, get us in as fast as you possibly can." Bishop commanded, "Charlie company is in pretty deep, so we're pulling them out. Send this to the other Pelicans." Bishop turned to the rest of Foxtrot. They could tell that they we're in for it.
"Our LZs been screwed so we're going in the old fashioned way." He paused and looked around to his fellow marines, "Guns blazing!"
Foxtrot knew this to be nothing to cheer for, but still got excited, ready to kick some ass.
"Get tactical, Marines!", his fellow soldiers lost to war came to mind, "It's time for some payback!"
The rest of the Angels knew what their CO was talking about. In unison they clicked their safeties off their armaments, and bolted a fresh round into the barrels of each of their weapons.
"Sir Yes, sir!"
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