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Last Fortress - Introduction
Posted By: Mike<mikehunter00@yahoo.com>
Date: 16 August 2003, 9:41 PM
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"If I die in a combat zone."
The chorus of men echoed back in a simultaneous thundering roar.
"If I die in a combat zone."
Again the Sergeant called out.
"Box me up and ship me home!"
They returned,
"Box me up and ship me home!"
The Sergeant called out the last line.
"Pin my medals upon my chest, and tell my men I did my best."
The words almost stung as the Marines sang the cadence. They had all seen the reports of the battle at Reach, and they all knew that there were very few survivors. The only capital ship that even had a chance of surviving jumped into a slip stream with the entire covenant armada hot on their tale. What had happened to them after was anybody's guess, there had been no contact.
They knew that Reach was the last outpost left. It was supposed to be impregnable, it was supposed to be a fortress world. How quickly it had fallen.
The remnants of whatever had escaped Reach came hobbling back a week or so ago. Every now and then a crippled fighter returned, and the pilot, if he was alive, was given a medal and another ship. The Marines however, we never so lucky. They came back in boxes, if they came back at all. The whole expeditionary force at Reach had been vaporized, when they glassed the planet, at least that's what the pilots said. But it was probably true. Three whole Marine divisions, the historic First Marine Division, the Ninth Expeditionary Force, and the newly formed Thirtieth Marines, numbering way too many to count, had been planet side when the Covenant forced dropped in, and the casualty rate was one-hundred percent.
These Marines were recruits. They had joined up about two months ago, but had not finished training in time to be deployed to Reach. Now they were training to defend the last fortress humanity had. Earth.
The group of thirty or so men rounded a green tent, sprinted to a patch of open dirt, and quickly formed ranks. The sergeant made his way to the front of the group and began to talk in the loud booming voice that characterizes a Marine sergeant.
"At-ten-hut."
"Alright everyone hit the rack, and get some sleep, we're on maneuvers tomorrow."
"Dismissed," he said in a voice that was not quiet, but more solemn, very unlike the stentorian voice of his usual self.
Silence rained supreme as the Marines moved to the barracks to get some sleep. They didn't want to admit it, no one did, but they were scared, all of them.
As the Platoon leaders mulled into the Operations room, Major Danby, the Regimental Intelligence officer, took lead.
"Alright, I want everyone in their seats." He waited until the room was silent.
"The maneuvers today consists of anti-invasion force deployment. We're gonna be training to counter a possible invasion of a city or region. As you know our regiment is fairly overstrength and our four battalions will be deployed to this area," as he paused to point at the maps. "The operations covers the entire region, so be ready, the could hit us anywhere."
"Our job is to contain the invasion forces and call in support. We are the spearhead gentlemen. We make contact, we conduct reconnaissance, and then we call in our friends. We are team blue, and the enemy, led by General Harding, is red. Intel suggests that the invasion force may consists of Helljumpers, and a Marine Assault Brigade. These guys are elite, and we will be outnumbered almost three to one.
There was a brief murmur about the room, as the battalion commanders listened to the information being given to them about the operations.
The briefing came to a close with little formalities. Before anyone could leave a yeoman, one of those Navy administrators came in, and handed a brief message to the Regimental CO, who had attended the briefing and was just about to leave. He took the message brashly, and held it up to his nose as he read the type.
His stare turned cold as he dropped the piece of paper. There was no sound in the room, but everyone saw him do it. They stood there silently, not wanting to move.
"Stand to, take a seat gentlemen," he finally whispered.
He began to read. "Contact with Pluto Listening Post lost. Flash traffic received on emergency frequencies reads: 'This is Listening post Foxtrot Charlie. we have contact with extremely large naval armada. Transponder signal does not match UNSC. Probable Covenant invasion force. Recommend Alert One. Recommend Alert One. This is not a drill.' Headquarters confirms. Covenant invasion force detected. Initiate plan Zulu - counter invasion forces with all available strength. Hold ground. Prepare to defend."
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