Difference between revisions of "Halo: Fireteam"
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| + | The team rolled into the firebase seven minutes later. As soon as the Hog had rolled to an abrupt stop, a medical team was offloading Rose onto a stretcher and carting her to the field hospital. | ||
| − | + | Jackson rolled stiffly out of his vehicle | |
Revision as of 08:06, 1 February 2011
"Step on it, Jackson! You got a death wish, Marine?!"
"Hell no, sir!" Jackson gunned the M12 LRV down the dirt path.
In the backseat, Cole revved the chaingun up and let off a sustained burst into the sky. Bright red tracers tore through the thick jungle haze, and one of the two pursuing Banshees peeled off, but not before launching another fuel rod blast.
A bright green blob of plasma thudded into the ground off to the right of the Warthog, forcing the M12 onto two wheels for several seconds before Jackson twisted the wheel to the left, bringing the 'Hog back onto all fours.
In the passenger's seat, Sergeant Lanning disengaged the spent magazine from his MA5 assault rifle, slapped a new one in, and racked a round into the chamber, sweeping the jungle in front of them for movement.
"Cole, eyes front! Movement two o' clock!" Lanning ordered. Cole immediately broke off firing at the Banshees and swung the barrel of the Light Anti-Aircraft Gun around, hit the triggers, and tore the foliage to shreds.
As the 'Hog whipped by at 70 miles an hour, Lanning caught a glimpse of phosphorescent blue - Grunt blood. What the hell were Covenant infantry doing on Cote d' Azur?
"Jackson, swing left! Get us off the path." Jackson yanked the steering wheel around and sent the LRV into the uncleared jungle, letting the massive tires chew up the brush in their way.
Another fuel rod projectile arced after them, but the Banshees were having a harder time tracking the Hog off of the cleared trail, so the deadly plasma landed a safe-ish 50 feet away.
Lanning looked around wildly for targets, and finding none, looked back to check on Rose. The only female member of their squad, Corporal Rose had taken a needle shard to the shoulder when they were ambushed by a Grunt patrol while searching their grid. Suppressive fire, then a mad dash back to the Hog before they were careening along in this nightmare back to base. Lanning and his men had taken out around eight of the diminutive alien dogs with a ragged volley and managed to patch Rose up with Biofoam, but if they didn't make it back to camp soon and get her medical attention, she might bleed out.
Twin lines of fire shot through the jungle foliage, igniting a hundred small brushfires. Jackson jerked the Hog sideways and cut off along a narrow embankment.
"Hold on - it's gonna get rough!" Jackson shouted, gunned the engine again, and sent the M12 down the embankment and into a wide stream. The Hog bounced on its frame, the tires compensating for the rocky terrain. Lanning registered an Elite's throaty howl from up on the ridge and loosed several bursts. A lucky string hit dead-on and the Elite's shield flared, struggling to maintain integrity. Now highlighted in a shimmering field, the Elite was completely exposed. Cole brought the big gun to bare and cut the Elite in half with the LAAG's 12.7mm rounds.
Lanning rose in his seat, craning his neck to see in front of the Hog. Shouting a curse, Lanning reached over Jackson's chest and pulled the emergency brake, fishtaling the LRV. The vehicle came to a stop feet away from an 100-foot waterfall.
Jackson put the LRV in reverse and tried to crawl up one side of the embankment. The tires spun dangerously with no traction, instead shooting up streams of soft mud. Undeterred, Jackson rammed the gear back into drive and let the Hog shoot up the other side, the powerful engine cutting its way out through sheer force.
Jackson paused at the top of the embankment, listening for the sound of the Banshees. "Shut her down - I think we've lost them." Lanning said softly.
Jackson pulled the electronic starter chip from the dash and the Hog's displays faded off. The deep purr of the engine slowed, then stopped, and everything was quiet except for the four Marines' heavy breathing.
"They're gone." Cole slumped against the chest plate of the chaingun, suddenly exhausted.
Lanning tried the Hog's radio. "Firebase Bravo, this is Sergeant Lanning. Come in, Firebase Bravo."
A few seconds of empty static, then, "Roger, Sergeant. Your signal is weak, but we have you."
"Bravo, we were just ambushed by Covenant forces. Looked to be a recon element - Grunts and Elites, with two fliers overhead."
"Acknowledged, Sergeant. Can you RTB?"
"Roger, Bravo. Our M-one-two sustained damage but is still running. We escaped with one major casualty."
"I'll alert triage to prepare for your wounded. What is your ETA?"
Lanning and Jackson consulted the GPS built into the Hog. "Ten minutes, give or take five. We are offroad and have to find the path back to camp."
"Good work, Sergeant. We are standing by to receive you. Bravo out."
Lanning replaced the radio and looked at his squad. Rose was getting paler by the second, and the sterile bandages Cole had wrapped her in were rapidly becoming stained with red.
"Hit it, Jackson."
The team rolled into the firebase seven minutes later. As soon as the Hog had rolled to an abrupt stop, a medical team was offloading Rose onto a stretcher and carting her to the field hospital.
Jackson rolled stiffly out of his vehicle
