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Chapter 1 of Halo: Fellowship in Blood: War of the Worts
Posted By: gamer02<gamer02@hotmail.com>
Date: 2 March 2004, 12:56 AM
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Chapter 1: War of the Worts
1126 hours, October 17th 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Omicron Zeta System, Fellow Colony Theatre of Operations
"WOOORT! WOOORT! WORT!"
"I HATE that! What the hell are they saying?" Sergeant McCoy yelled while he aided his squad in taking down a pair of regular blue Elites, both armed with plasma rifles. The few Grunts that were with them had gone like falling coconuts.
"I dunno, Sarge! Maybe they're saying 'fuck all you humans' three times. HA!" Private Berman gave an idea as he finished his BR's clip.
"What if they're just.....yelling WORT WORT WORT?" Private Redman finished his sentence as he dodged a few plasma bolts.
"Then I'd say you're a smart-ass, Redman!" yelled back Corporal Dzerzhinski, McCoy's second-in-command of the squad.
"YO-BO, BO-BO-BAH!" one of the Elites threw a plasma grenade which landed half a metre away from the squad's youngest member, Private Nambini. In a split-second she reacted, slamming her right foot into the soft ground and shifting her body weight, she propelled herself away from the glowing, smoky blue orb.
The explosion sent dirt flying everywhere, even the Elites were confused. Nambini, still in the air, was pushed a little higher from the force of the explosion. With the same clarity she had had seconds before, she grabbed one of her Frag grenades, popped the pin with her thumb, and whipped it in the direction she knew the Elites were.
"'NADES R US!" she screeched.
Again, everyone was rocked by the explosion. The two Elites went flying metres apart, they're shields shot and their bodies charred. Simultaneously, Nambini had landed in a roll behind Private Fox, the squad's Rocket-man. Her loader was Private Treeby. Private Velinov was their sniper. Private Saunders was their Demo specialist, along with Privates Begic and Grimsby. They always seemed to be hammered and speculated about the five girls' sexual orientations. Private Miller was their Recon and their Point-man. She could tell them what was ahead and then fall back to make sure no Covies were following in a good 3 minutes. Velinov could hit her targets like they were right in front of her, but took her time to find the right sniping spot. Fox liked to see things go boom, hence her being a Rocketeer; she slept with her launcher beside her. Treeby felt the need to polish her Battle Rifle in a nurturing manner every day, which only made the trio of loud demolitionists rant in a self-contradicting manner. Nambini was five months out of training and already on the waiting list for promotion to ODST service; she was that good. Berman and Redman were indiscriminate with their jokes, razing all in sight and earshot. Dzerzhinski was equally careless, but he made fun in an I'm-your-superior-so-you'd-better-shut-the-hell-up-and-cover-me-if-I-tell-you-to manner. He also did Recon duty with Miller. They were all good soldiers, no matter how neurotic or ambiguous. McCoy knew that, and his personality had somehow naturally reflected theirs, which made them the perfect, well-knit team. They fed off each other, during combat and otherwise, and that made them hellishly hard to kill.
"WORT WORT WORT!" this time it came from the marines, they would mock and laugh at their kills after each victory, all twelve of them.
McCoy got back in the Warthog they'd managed to release before their dropship had crashed and killed the pilot. Berman called shotgun and Treeby made gunner. McCoy revved the engine, sped away and then came back to keep pace with the rest of his squad. They headed out to where the 'Hog's onboard radar and SATCOM link said the nearest UNSC outpost was, over 250 km away.
Redman and Nambini led in the victory song (usually one by the late 20th band AC/DC), Hells Bells, "We're rollin' thunder, pourin' rain; we're comin' on like a hurricane; our MACs are firin', across the void; you may be Covies, but you're gonna die! We won't take no prisoners, won't spare no lives....", slightly modified, of course.
After about 10 minutes and two other songs, they saw them.
"Arrrgh! Fucking inbred BASTARDS!" not one, not two, not even three, but four Covenant dropships were inbound about 2 kliks away. They ran.
1143 hours, October 17th 2552 (Military Calendar)
Omicron Zeta System, Fellow Colony Theatre of Operations,
UNSC Planetary HQ
"Sir! I've got something!"
"What? What is it - did you find them?" Corporal Hayes had just seen Major Johnston off; he was going with the Master Chief to find McCoy's squad. The Major had also brought along 17 marines, 5 ODSTs, 2 Pelicans, one with a Warthog and the other with a Scorpion. Hayes wasn't sure why they were going through so much trouble to find one squad, he'd been on other colonies - liberated or otherwise - where squads and their dropships had been lost by the dozen, but no such extreme measures had been taken to find or save them. He was in the dark as to why they were flying so far away from any Covenant-held positions, but then he speculated that they were being brought in as reinforcements for one of the vulnerable, lightly-armed outposts on the other side of the planet. Even so, he still had to help find them.
"Not exactly, sir. All I've got is a 50 k area around their last known position with 4 enemy dropships landing in it. I also have a weak link from SATCOM to the Warthog that was requisitioned for their flight." The tech responded.
"So you did find them, why didn't you say so?" The Corporal demanded.
"Well, you see, sir, SATCOM can't work both ways in this situation, what with some of the satellites destroyed and - "
Hayes cut him off, "Yes, I know, but what do you mean it can't work both ways?"
The technician spoke quickly so he wouldn't be interrupted again, "Well, it can tell them where they are because it's talking directly with their 'Hog's nav computer, but it can't tell us where they are because we don't have the same kind of connection with the satellites. If the satellites were telling both of us where they were constantly, we'd have a security risk if the Covenant intercepted the signal or invaded HQ. Also, the satellites aren't designed to do that anyways, they don't have the memory or the type of transmitter."
"Right, then. And we can't talk to them because the comm web's all screwed up anyways, right?" Hayes added.
"That's correct, sir."
"So, they've got 4 Covie dropships on their ass and we can't help them, or barely even find them." He sighed, tired and disappointed, and stood up, "Get me the Major so I can tell him the news; at least we know they're alive - for the moment."
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