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[am-i-right-marines]

Prompt: Ambush

December 24th, 2532

New Vancouver, Road to New Halifax

“-o I said to the guy: Don’t waste your money on a locksmith, I’ve got a pack of C12.”

Corporal Elliot Reynolds chuckled. As did Private Vetras and a couple of other Marines. “You’ve told that story a thousand times. It gets less funny every time, and it was never funny to begin with.”

“Hey, it’s a good story.” Private Gideon Tyler Winters grinned, punching Elliot in the shoulder. “You definitely laughed at it when Wendy was around. You got the hots for my sister or something?” He raised his eyebrows and smirked at the Corporal.

Elliot sputtered for a second before chuckling. “In your dreams, city boy.”

“Ohhhhh!” The other Marines riding on the Scorpion tank with them laughed, even the tank’s gunner and driver.

In Third Platoon, being from the city was an automatic contract to get teased relentlessly.

Gideon turned to look at the driver and raised an eyebrow. “How about you Waters? Any good stories?”

The woman smirked, rolling her eyes behind her visor. “None that involve you. Last time you tried to pick me up you mixed up your line, dropped your drink, and then face planted.”

“Oh? I didn’t hear about that one.” The gunner turned around slightly from his position at the 50. Caliber machine gun, smiling inquisitively.

Gideon laughed. “Hey, at least I tried, Mr. ‘I’ll wait until we’re back starside’.”

Elliot rolled his eyes playfully, looking between the two. “Ladies, ladies, you’re both pretty.”

Waters snorted. “Always with the.... woah.”

Everyone turned to see what had made Waters stop.

And there sitting in a crumpled and burning heap in a cluster of collapsed trees was a warthog with the sigil of the United Rebel Front on its hood and five bodies scattered around.

“Heh. Fuckin’ rebels got what they deserved.” The gunner scoffed.

“Hey, that’s somebody’s son!” Elliot snapped.

“Reynolds is right.”

Everyone snapped to attention. “Lieutenant Price.”

The platoon leader nodded at them as he walked by. “They’re not all bad. I—“

“Hey... you hear that?”

The sound of hover engines. Covenant tech.

Waters suddenly pointed skywards. “Banshees! Inbound!”

Half a second later, plasma bombs dropped from the alien fighters as they whizzed overhead, slamming into the forward vehicles in the convoy and showering the rest in heat, shrapnel, blood, and gore.

Plasma fire started coming out of the trees, cutting down countless unsuspecting Marines. A white line of plasma from a Covenant Focus Rifle shot out of the trees and slammed into Private Vetras’ head, utterly destroying it and covering Elliot in blood. “Shit-!” Vetras got out before he was silenced forever.

“It’s an ambush!” Someone shouted.

“Clear the tanks!” Elliot roared, leaping off the tread of the Scorpion and landing in the mud.

“Enemy armor!” Gideon warned, shouldering his MA5 and pouring fire into the trees as two Covenant Wraith Tanks emerged from another direction.

“Get off the road! Get off the road!” Lieutenant Price shouted, sprinting towards a side path in the grass. “Move! We’ll hit ‘em from the side!”

“You heard the Lieutenant, double time it Marines!” Sergeant Parker. The guy was a hardass in every sense of the word.

Gideon rolled his eyes, patting Elliot’s arm as the pair booked it into the trees.

“Find cover!”

“Grena—!” BOOM.

“Open fire!” Hundreds upon hundreds of 7.62mm bullets tore through foliage and wood.

The duo somehow ended up with Lieutenant Price, Sergeant Parker, and Airman Piper. He still had no idea why they had a comms liason from the fuckin’ Chair Force.

“Lieutenant! Just picked up a transmission from Sector Command. They want us to push up and capture the ford at grid 3-by-4-by-9. Apparently a second convoy is supposed to catch up with us.” Piper called.

“How the fuck are we supposed to do that when we’re being slaughtered?!” Gideon shouted over the din.

“Quiet!” Price barked. “We have our orders. Let’s move!”

The five man adhoc fireteam emerged from the trees and cut down a squad of Grunts with combined fire.

A resounding boom behind them followed by an explosion indicated that Waters had turned her tank’s canon on the Wraiths.

“Through the trees! We can’t get pinned here! Move!” Sergeant Parker roared.

“Frag out!”

Through the already deafening roar, the familiar woosh of an M57 Pilum Assault Weapon being fired sounded. A cluster of trees were engulfed in a bright purple and orange fireball, followed by the sound of half a dozen plasma grenades cooking off from the heat.

The surviving tank, Waters’ tank, plowed through the trees and into a field on the other side, followed by two M12 Warthogs and about fifty Marines. Five miles straight ahead stood their objective. They’d escaped the ambush.

—————————

“So now the objective is to destroy the bridge, not capture it?”

“Affirmative, Corporal. I just got out of a meeting with the other platoon leaders. A high-strength Covenant Force has been spotted by Air Force SIGINT Specialist Naiya Ray making for the bridge. It’s a tactical location in this sector. Command wants it gone. We’ve been given a HAVOK-Class Tactical Nuclear Warhead to ensure the job is done, and to enforce Cole Protocol.”

Gideon glanced at Elliot, who shrugged, then they both refocused on the briefing. “Specialist Ray estimates we have an hour max to complete our objective. As such, we will be commencing an all out assault on the bridge with 2nd and 4th Platoon. We’ve been allocated one CAS asset, callsign TAU-5. Now, we’ll be assaulting from the South side of the Covenant defenses. 2nd Platoon the North, and 4th the East. Any questions?”

“Sir! No sir!”

“Oorah.” Price nodded.

“Mount up!” Sergeant Parker boomed.

Elliot patted Gideon’s shoulder as the two climbed into the back of an M12 LRV Troop Carrier model, more commonly known as the ‘TroopHog’. “Hell or high water.”

Gideon slapped his friend’s back in return. “Funny this planet doesn’t have any icecaps.”

Elliot smirked. “‘Atta boy.”

A few more marines climbed into their TroopHog before it reved its engine and ripped off into the grass towards the bridge with the rest of the convoy.

Maybe three minutes later there was plasma fire flying all around them and they had to duck low in the seats to avoid being hit. As their ‘Hog bounced roughly over the ground, Elliot looked out to the side, and watched as another ‘Hog caught a Fuel Rod blast to the hood and was engulfed in a fireball. “Standby!” Parker barked.

The Hog drew closer. “Standby!”

Closer. “Standby!”

The plasma fire was immense.

The vehicle swerved in a circle to swing its back around and allow the marines out. “Go! Go go go!”

The couple dozen marines in the vehicle jumped out and raised their weapons, “Go go go!”

Gideon and Elliot both both jumped into a crater created by a plasma mortar shell and used it as a foxhole. “This is the single worst idea I’ve ever seen!” Gideon shouted as he put a five-round burst into the chest of a Jackal.

“No kidding!” Elliot shouted back.

Farther back in the Covenant lines, they saw a cluster of Grunts collapse under a hail of rifle fire. Apparently 2nd and 4th Platoon had arrived.

“Push up! Keep the pressure!” Lieutenant Price barked, lobbing a fragmentation grenade overhead and sprinting forward.

“You heard the man boys! It’s time for some hazard pay!” Parker added, following behind him.

“Go! Go go go!” Private Harper shouted, darting from his own foxhole.

Then the ground started to shake.... and over the hill emerged a Covenant Scarab Tank.

“Reynolds! Get on the horn with CAS! Double time! We need that thing dead!”

“Sir!” Elliot replied, blinking in to what limited HUD marine helmets had and connecting to the local channel. “TAU-5, Bravo 2-7. Request danger close. On our location. Trailing south. Commence 6 seconds. Target is a Covenant Scarab. Over.”

The radio crackled. “Understood. ETA 10 seconds. Standby.”

“Reynolds! Where the hell is it?!”

“Bravo 2-7, TAU-5. Positive I.D. on the target. Danger close. Guns, guns, guns.”

“Reynolds!?”

“Get to cover!”

A pair of F-41 Broadsword strikecraft emerged from the clouds at supersonic speeds, loaded for bare with missiles and autocannons. The Scarab frantically turned its dorsal cannon around, but it was too late.

The two human pilots absolutely unleashed into the enemy vehicle, cannons spitting 35mm rounds into the tank by the hundreds. Just as well, each pilot launched one M6088 ST/MMP Medusa Anti-Vehicle missile into the offending target before pulling up back into the clouds as the Scarab detonated in a wash of purple fire.

Of course, not before it got off one final shot and sheared the wing off one of the Broadswords. The pilot, who happened to be the one on the radio, was heard screaming as his fighter spiraled out of control....

..... and then slammed cockpit-first into the Scorpion tank driven by Private Sarah Waters.

“Waters!” Gideon exclaimed.

“There’s nothing we can do! Focus on the battle!” Price ordered.

“Harper, where’s that bomb?!”

“Here Sergeant!” The man tossed a briefcase to the Sergeant. Just goes to show how advanced civilization was. A Nuclear bomb in a briefcase.

“Alright, le— ah!”

“Lieutenant!”

Elliot whirled around to see Price collapse to the ground with a smoking plasma hole in his stomach. “Lieutenant!”

But Price wasn’t listening, he clasped Parker’s forearm. “You- you gotta get our boys outta here. I can complete the objective.”

“No! No one gets left behind!” Parker replied, voice cracking as more Covenant appeared.

“Goddamnit Joseph!”

“Ryan!” Parker shouted. Then he turned to Elliot. “Reynolds. You’re Sergeant now. I’m not leaving him behind again. Get our boys outta here.”

Elliot nodded, “Fall back!”

Gideon on the other hand, started panicking. “Sergeant! No!” Elliot grabbed his arm and started dragging the Private away. “No! You can’t do this! No! No!”

“I said fall back goddamnit! That’s an order!” Elliot fell into the leadership roll easily, dragging the panicking Private away.

“Sir! Second contact!” Harper barked, pointing at the sky.

Sure enough, a flight of three Pelican dropships descended from the sky and the radio crackled with a female voice. “Raider Flight to Bravo 2-7, you boys look like you could use a hand.”

“You have no idea Raider. We could use a ride.”

“You got it.” The pilot replied.

And the three descended, landing in front of the retreating Marines. “Load up!” Elliot boomed.

And as they all loaded in, Gideon looked back to the bridge where Parker and Price were still positioned. “Sergeant!”

“Mission first! Go, now!”

—————————

And, that’s that!

[officialleehadan]

Red Palace

Tusca wasn’t really sure what was going to happen next.

On the one hand, the pirates who were after them, and their apparently-stolen-very-illegal-and-also-valuable cargo.

If they made it out of this, he was gonna kill Kongee. Sky-damned bottom-feeder either sold them out or lied to his face when Tusca asked about the ‘just a few crates’ that the barely-legal businessman wanted them to move.

The Imperial Carrier Pacifica. The flagship of the Human Galactic Empire, and the home of their royal family. It was the largest human ship ever created, and was so big it didn’t need artificial gravity. Rumor had it that it was created by a dragon, a djinn, and a god all working together, but no one knew for sure.

How was this his life?

The hanger Luka flew them to was luxurious in a way that spoke of truly extravagant taste. The floors were white polished stone, and it was utterly sleek. Here and there, a few uniformed officers went about their work, but they ignored the Wavedancer, despite the flickering glances that betrayed their curiosity.

“What do we do, here?” Do’ was the one to ask the obvious question in the room as Luka set them down and began extracting himself from the ship’s wiring. “Luka-boy, this is… a lot.”

“Don’t worry,” Luka reassured her with a smile, and carefully closed up his cerebral socket. “I might have run away from home, but that doesn’t mean I stopped being the Heir. The only person on this ship who outranks me is my father.”

“You mean his Imperial Majesty?” Right pointed out incredulously, and leaned on his twin’s chair. Left looked as stunned as Tusca felt. “The emperor of the Human Galactic Empire? The most powerful person in the galaxy?”

“He likes caramels and old-earth movies, and onions give him gas so bad it should count as a weapon of war,” Luka said irreverently and startled a laugh out of everyone. He cracked a grin. “And yes, he’s all those things too, but right now, the only person he’s likely to be angry at is me, and probably he won’t be too angry.”

“Reassuring,” Graat muttered from the navigation console, and looked over at Tusca. “Captain, shall I have the crew come out?”

“Might as well,” Tusca sighed, and pushed himself out of his chair, still somewhat rattled from their abrupt, albeit short, tussle with pirates, and Luka’s surprising start as a Red Baron. “Have everyone meet down in the hold.”

“You know you’re not getting arrested, right?” Luka asked as he walked beside Tusca. The rest of the crew filtered out of their rooms, and Tusca felt the startling lack of Roja and Carlito sharply. “And if you were, I would make sure Father pardoned you.”

“Nice to know,” Tusca said dryly. “What should we expect?”

“Father will be disappointed at me. One or two of the Consul may shout a little. Duke-Lord Holland may see if he can get me disinherited. He doesn’t like me much.”

“Imperial politics.” Tusca wanted none of this. “Any chance you can get us clear of this carrier and out of here before we have to deal with any of that?”

He was half-joking, but if Luka really could…

But no. the young prince shook his head wryly.

“I could,” he confessed, and rubbed the back of his neck before peeking at Tuska out of the corner of his eye. “But well… the politics are bad, but my mother’s on this ship, and if I don’t at least say hello while I’m here…”

Ah.

Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Tatiana Viktoria Maria, was a force to be reckoned with. A powerful voice for any cause she believed in, the Empress was one of the most outspoken Royal women in centuries, and her children clearly took after her.

“I feel like we should dress fancy,” Do’ muttered, and leaned on her husband’s arm. Alejandro smiled faintly, but when he glanced over, Tusca nodded a slight reassurance. Alejandro was quarter-ogre and one of the least human people on the ship. Fortunately, ogres were heavily family-oriented, and tended to do well in a small crew, especially as crew-protectors. “Meetin’ all these important people.”

“Wouldn’t help,” Silvie muttered, although she probably didn’t have much to worry about. Luka’s counterpart, she was their cook, and also a specialist in botany. The crew never ate so well until she joined and turned the mess-hall and her room into greenhouses for fresh produce. Her hair was green under the harsh ship lights, but Tusca never felt the need to ask what type of Other she was. Probably fae or elvish. Dryad maybe. It didn’t matter unless she tried to eat someone. “They won’t care how we look. We’re space rats. No one cares about rats.”

“Rat is good eating,” Left protested, and Right snorted a laugh. It figured, really. They were good-old home-grown human, but they were also former street-kids themselves. “Don’t knock rat.”

“I don’t want to be eaten, please,” Graat said faintly. He was the only actual alien on the ship, and sometimes felt it keenly. Fortunately, pretty much everyone adored him, and his confusion was frankly adorable. “Being eaten is unpleasant and messy.”

“No one is getting eaten,” Luka said, or tried to through his snickers. Tusca took a moment to look him over. Barely eighteen, Luka was tall for his age, and had the beginnings of good muscle, thanks to the twins training him in combat, and his eyes were bright with intelligence. “Father does not eat human meat, and Blaec probably is not on board.”

“Oh sure, no big,” Do’ said incredulously and reached over to smack the back of Luka’s head. The prince yelped and ducked, but Do’ was a good shot. “Oh, do not worry everybody, the great Lord Petros, who I happen to be on first name basis with, probably will not eat you because he is not here today. Probably. You are not reassuring!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Luka said, but everyone was laughing a little as the ramp began to lower and white light spilled into their small, banged-up ship. “I promise no one will get eaten, alright?”

“That is an ambitious promise, my son.”

The voice was regal, female, and very amused.

Empress Tatiana was stunningly beautiful. Her hair was pure silver despite her relatively young age, and coiled around her head like a crown. Her clothes were simple, but made of the very best materials available. Her cape alone was worth more than the Wavedancer. Her necklace would buy a dozen brand new Imperial Destroyers.

But her smile was warm, and when she opened her arms, Luka flew into them.

The contrast between them was sharp. The empress in her dark blue and silver gown, and her son in ratty, but clean, hand-me-down clothes. Luka was quite a but taller than his mother and lifted her off the ground as she laughed and held onto him.

“Put me down!” she demanded, and Luka did, although he also bent and pressed a kiss to her cheek when she presented it for kissing. “Darling, you have grown so much. I hardly recognized you when your transmission came to us.”

“Good living,” Luka told her, and tucked her hand into his arm, unconsciously reverting to the manners he was brought up with. Tusca fought the urge to fall on his face in front of the Empress, and did bow with the rest of his crew when Luka walked her over to them. “Mother, may I present Captain Tusca Pelegrine and the crew of the Wavedancer. Dorinda and Alejandro Duardo, Josias and Edin Armon- we call them Left and Right- Graat of Ha’Reet, and Silvie Fashavel.”

“Please be welcome to the Pacifica,” the Empress said when everyone was introduced, and reached out to take Dorinda’s hands in hers. Do’ looked somewhat stunned and unsure of herself. “Please, there is no need for formality. You are the people caring for my son when I could not. I thank you, deeply.”

“It was our pleasure, ma’am,” Tusca spoke for the crew because he was the captain, and also because he was probably the only one who could manage actual words right now. The Empress nodded him on as she led them out of the hanger bay and through the halls. He wondered how she could possibly find her way around the huge ship, and supposed it was mostly practice. “You raised up a good boy. We’re glad to have him.”

Empress Tatiana only smiled and showed them into a sitting room that, while fancy, was significantly more comfortable than the sleek, polished hanger and the corridors outside.

Of course, the flooring was sheets of Old Earth marble- the real stuff- and gold glittered on door handles and hangings. The paintings on the walls were of people Tusca recognized out of text books, and the buttery-soft leather of the chairs was probably valuable enough to buy a mansion in a good city on a good planet.

When they were settled, uncomfortable and shy, but at least sitting down, servants buzzed around them, bringing drinks and food. Luka served his mother almost automatically, and she kissed his cheek when he handed her a fine porcelain cup of tea.

“How long will you be here?” she asked. Tusca hid a wince. Empress she might be, but this woman had missed her son.

“At least until I have had a chance to see him.”

Luka closed his mouth on his reply as everyone scrambled to their feet at the commanding voice from the door.

Emperor Nelius Hector Gaius was a tall, strongly-built man. His hair was grey-streaked black, and there were small lines around his eyes that only added to the sense of power about him. Luka was his spitting image, although the teen looked decidedly unfinished next to his Emperor-father.

“Father,” Luka said, and let his father wrap him in a quick, tight hug. The sight of the affection helped ease Tusca’s mind somewhat. Royalty they might be, but they were parents too, and somehow preserved a small family in the midst of the overwhelming pressure of who they were. “I am sorry to cause any difficulty. As you can imagine, our position was… not good.”

“Yes,” the emperor replied dryly, and turned his gaze on the crew. Tusca felt the immediate urge to sink thorough the floor and not come back. “We saw the last of it. Should I ask who precisely thought it was a good idea for you to learn to fly like that?”

Silence filled the room, their recent losses suddenly very sharp. Tuska looked down at his hands, and heard Do’ sniffle into her husband’s shirt quietly.

“We… had some trouble earlier,” Luka spoke up. Tusca was proud, and glad. The knot of sadness in his throat was still too big to speak around. “A business deal went bad. Very bad. Several of the crew were captured and- and did not come back. One of them was Red Baron, Roja Cortez. The other was Carlito Duado, Do and Alejandra’s nephew. They died to give us the chance to get out.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Empress Tatiana said gently, and rested her hand on Do’s shoulder comfortingly. “They will have memorials with every honor and grace they are due.”

“That’s real kind of you, Ma’am,” Do said, and shared a small, sad smile with the Empress. “We all know the Black is dangerous. Sometimes that danger gets the best of us. I need to call Carlito’s mama, but she’ll be real proud when she hears how brave he was.”

“Would you like to use my personal line to call her?” Empress Tatiana asked genuinely, and lifted a hand in invitation after a quick glance at her husband, who nodded gravely. “I understand that your ship is in the hanger for repairs. I insist you use one of mine to see your family, or bring them here if you prefer.”

She guided them out of the room and Tusca felt a little weight lift off his shoulders.

This was going far better than he expected.

“Now,” the emperor said and seated himself so everyone else could sit as well. “Tell me the story, from start to finish.”

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HGE - Learn to Fly, Learn to Breathe:

Red Sun

Red Baron

Red Prince

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Red Heart

Red Ship

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