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Halo: War of Surgica Part One: War is Hell
Posted By: Chris L<sonic_22@charter.net>
Date: 18 October 2004, 1:07 AM
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0231 Hours, October 14, 2553(Military Calendar)/
Longsword Intercepter 4/A, 143 kilos west-north-west
from hidden UNSC colony: Epsilon A43
"Bring her up!" said the Longsword pilot Sam Reynold, to his co-pilot named Bobby Fees. "Begining start-up procedure," Bobby said in his usual curt tone. Like someone who had seen too many battles, and had too many horrid memories. He tapped a few keyes on the control panel in between the two black, contoured seats, and the Longsword shuddered as the rear thrusters flared. "Okay, engine is online and working fine." said Sam, gripping his joy-stick. "Bringing main data screen online." Bobby said softly, turning on the front viewscreen. Immediatly, tons of numbers and codes began scrolling down it, checking for errors in the start-up innitiative.
00323552343_engine-portside-function-100%
67234352341_engine-starboard-function-100%
23457899345_belly-and-nose-thrusters-function-100%
45123433434_main-data-AI-"Susie"-online
Sam watched out the port window as the ship mechanics scuttled out of the hanger like small ants. "Checking for any last minute errors" said the onboard AI named Susie. There was a short pause as she calculated 4000 gigabytes of information, then she appeared on the holo-panal to Sam's left. "No errors were found sir, ready when you are!" She dissapeared, and the viewscreen went blank for a moment. A second later, it flickered on, showing Sam and Bobby the view straight ahead of them. "Ready?" said Bobby, placing his finger on the "dissengage from hanger crane" switch. Sam took one more look around the hanger. The other Longswords were waiting for the good-to-go signal from intercepter 4/A. "Let's go kick some covenant- he was cut off as an enourmous explosion blew open the hanger's rear blast doors open. Crates of oil and fuel were sucked out into space. The hanger-techs struggled to close the emergency doors, as debri was sucked into the vaccum."Covenant forces have engaged!" "Go, go, go!" yelled Bobby, flicking on the launch signal to the other thirty ships in the Lucinda's hanger. "We're out in five, four, three," he counted off, getting ready to blast the belly jets. "Go!" the twenty year old co-pilot yelled. He pressed the dissengage button, and the mechanical clips let go of the four-ton ship. The intercepter fell toward the deck as it was freed, then came up to a wobbly hover,held up by the belly jets. Sam brought the Longsword around so it was facing the gaping hole, then jammed the throttle forward. The other fighters did the same, and thirty black, wedge shaped intercepters were launched out toward the fleet of Covenant cruisers.
"Battle Status." grunted Admiral Weiss. He stood at the viewport of the UNSC Frigate, Lucinda. "Well sir," said the voice of the AI Wellsley. "The Covenant have finally found our last hope for a life without war and agony." "Their Seraphs have been launched, and will engage our fighters in 3...make that 2, minutes." "How many are there?" Weiss asked, taking out a small black stylus and tapping his lower lip. "Approximatly 12 cruisers, 4 flagships, and..." he appeared on the holopanal, and studied the data screens around the room. "150 Seraph fighters." "That's 120 more than we have." Weiss said, turning around so that he was looking right at Wellsley. "Set a course for Epsilon 7." He said, putting away the stylus. "And leave all our intercepters out there?!" Wellsley cried, his eyes turning blaze orange, more data than ever scrolling across his body, which had taken the form of a war general. "That would be sixty lives wasted, and thirty AI's, not to mention the cost!" He shouted, gesturing out at the small crowd of black fighters, getting closer to the gigantic swarm of scarab-like covenant fighters. "The lives wouldn't be wasted!" shouted Weiss, whipping out the stylus again, and prodding Wellsley's form with it. Ripples of electricity pulsed like ripples from the rubber tip as it made contact with Wellsley's pure energy form. "Just do it." Harold Weiss said, turning back around and watching the battle that had just begun out in the depths of space. Lucinda's cargo was more valuble than an entire armada of Spartans. Which was sort of ironic, since the cargo actually was a whole lot of Spartans. "Plotting Course for Epsilon 7." Wellsley said in a voice like a moping child. "ETA twelve hours." He dissapeared down into the data-chip, which Weiss pulled out and inserted into his pocket. "War is Hell" Weiss said, watching the Longswords explode, painting the darkness with a taboo of yellows and reds. The horrible scene hung there for a moment, then vanished as the Lucinda was sucked into slip-space.
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