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On A Red Horse: Chapter 1 (fixed)
Posted By: Diamond Dog<swordfist14@cox.net>
Date: 16 June 2003, 8:56 PM
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Author's Note: This series is a revision of the old one I started, Brothers In Arms. After completing the first chapter I realized I could do better and wanted to start over. So here it is.
Priority Transmission - Urgent: Degree Alpha
To any and all UNSC ships and/or installations,
UNSC-loyal entity aboard Covenant cruiser type A-18H, Hand of Justice. Cannot reveal identity, this message is not security-encrypted and might be intercepted by Covenant as well. Assistance required ASAP to ensure survival of this entity. The cruiser has been disabled but I fear only temporarily. Coordinates attached.
/end/
Andrew Durant stared at the glowing words on the viewscreen. He shifted position uneasily, like many others were doing, and looked back at the general as he began to speak.
"ONI HQ at the Mars Installation received this transmission approximately three hours ago. They don't know what to make of this 'entity'. It could be a disloyal Covenant soldier, it could be a human, it could be a drunken Elite for all we know. What we do know is that scout ships have verified the existence of the object at the coordinates the transmission reveals. It's stationary and seems to be at half power. What's more is it did not fire upon our reconnaissance craft, even though in the past it has been shown their sensors notice them easily.
"Your mission is to infiltrate the Hand Of Justice and neutralize the crew. If you are successful, you are to locate the entity, if there is one, and help them to safety. In approximately 30 minutes you will depart the Albatross and fly to the Covenant cruiser. We also have detailed intel on the ship, because, along with its coordinates, the transmission also sent blueprints."
The large viewscreen behind the general changed and showed a 3D wireframe image of a Covenant cruiser. The ship hangar and two empty escape pod slots flashed red.
"You will break up into normal fireteams. Alpha and Bravo will board Pelicans and fly into the hangar, whose doors our smart AI will break open for us. After securing it, Alpha will stay and guard it while Bravo moves to reinforce Charlie and Echo. Charlie and Echo will dock with the cruiser in boarding craft by maneuvering into its empty escape pod slots. Charlie will then move to the engine room and secure it to prevent sabotage by the Covenant when they realize that their ship belongs to us now. Echo will move to the control room, crack through its outer defenses, and secure it. Echo, try to take at least one control room officer prisoner. It's not necessary, but the spooks would be delighted to have one to extract information from.
"Once we control those three areas, we control the Hand of Justice. With the primary objectives secured, you will thoroughly sweep through the entire ship, room by room, and clear it of all hostiles. Along the way, you will look for our friend the entity, if he exists."
He cleared his throat. "Any questions?"
Andrew raised his hand. "Sir, how are we supposed to know where to go once we're in there? I've seen the inside of a Covie ship only once before, and it's a maze."
General Trent nodded. "A simplified version of the schematics we have will be uploaded to your eye LEDs. It will find your location using a special microchip and positioning satellites mounted on the Albatross and provide a map for the surrounding area."
"I feel spoiled," groaned Private Othic.
The general laughed. "That's what you get when you're the best of the best, Othic. Plenty of presents under the tree come Christmastime."
Durant walked with the rest of Delta toward the armory. Andrew was tall, about 6 foot, and had a long stride. The corps had turned him solid, and his arms and chest had become muscular. He had a long face, blue eyes, and sandy hair. Stubble had collected on his face, the result of not shaving for a few days. Andrew looked around and took in the rest of Delta Force. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to be in the unit, let alone in command of a fireteam. But still, normal rank was unimportant here. Any one of them would do just as good a job as he hoped to do if they were in command. A Delta Private was a Sergeant anywhere else.
Andrew looked at the insignia on his uniform. In the center of the round patch were two crossed swords, silver against black, and above them, a head of a wolf loomed out of the darkness. Below them was the symbol of the UNSC. In silver lettering that rode around the border full circle were the words, "Delta Force - Semper Fidelis". A rush of memories floated back to him.
The Covenant had fascinated him since he was a child, and he had waited eagerly until he was old enough to join the Corps. At seventeen he couldn't wait any longer and barged into the UNSC office with his friends. The recruitment officer ignored their age and signed them up anyway. They needed everyone they could get. Shortly after they completed boot, their homeworld, Epsilon Eridani, was glassed by the Covenant.
Years of fighting then followed. He had seen death and caused death in more places and on more worlds than he cared to remember. All he had to do was close his eyes and visions came to him. Rain-drenched jungles. Baking deserts. Burning cities. Frozen tundra. Bleeding children, bodies upon bodies upon bodies. Friends dying in his arms. The heads of his enemies bursting in showers of blood at the hug of his finger against a trigger, at the heave of a knife thrown from his hand.
After eight years of constant war, Andrew Durant could think to himself the exact way he wanted his enemies to die, and it would happen. Could see a patch of skin at twenty yards and guide a bullet to kiss it. And yet he had not grown cynical, had not gotten bitter. He was defending mankind, and he was doing what he had been born to do. He would die before letting the Covenant glass Earth.
First he was an ordinary Marine. As officers saw his incredible skill and courage he sailed through the ranks, becoming a sergeant at the end of his first year and a lieutenant at the end of his third. He had gone to Ranger school, to officer's school, to hand-to-hand combat school, to the toughest survival schools that existed. For a few years he was a Helljumper.
Then, two years ago, he had been in the field as Delta and the ODSTs fought alongside each other. A Covenant nest had been dug into a hill that they needed to own, and poking out of it were the barrels of two Shades and several fuel-rod cannons. It had to be blown, and the resident Helljumper demolitions expert had a fat satchel of C-12. Too far away to be thrown, someone had to take it to the nest. But no one had the balls.
Except Andrew. As his teammates threw smoke canisters and provided covering fire over his head, he had hauled ass up the hill and threw it in, taking a plasma burst to the chest in the process. When he woke up in the hospital, there was a letter with the Delta seal on it resting by his bed.
He met back up with several of the friends he had joined the Corps with. Having occasionally crossed paths with them before, it felt great that they'd all be in the same unit, together again, at the top of the world.
"Hi Andrew," a feminine voice said. He looked up. And he smiled.
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