Halo: Fire of War

Prelude
"The 26th Century has dawned. And with a new century comes new challenges, new conflicts.  In the aftermath of multiple incidents in the 2490s, the Insurrection has come about, sparked by the nuclear fires of Far Isle, pledging to fight the UNSC.  Some fight through battles against the UNSC itself, others through terrorism.  No matter what happens, there is always conflict, for the fire of war can never be extinguished" {|style="width:100%; color:#FFF;"
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MOUT
MAY 16TH, 2513

ELYSIUM CITY, ERIDANUS II, ERIDANUS SYSTEM

0942 HOURS

"Incoming!", yelled Edward Monroe as another shell screamed into Elysium City, and hit near their position, showering them all with debris. Propping his HMG-38 on a barrier, Monroe provided suppressing fire on the UNSC as the rest of his unit retreated further towards the extraction point.

"Estimates say less than an hour before we have to retreat! We need to get to the extraction point NOW!" yelled their unit commander over the din of battle raging throughout the city.

"Covering fire!" unexpectedly bellowed their medic as he dashed from their cover. Letting loose with their weapons, bullets flew from both sides of street as the medic grabbed a wounded rebel fighter in a nearby, and started dragging him back to the rebels' position. Placing the fighter against the barrier the rest of the squad was hiding behind, the medic motioned to Monroe, "Get over here and help me out.", he ordered.

Keeping his head down, he moved over to the medic's position, where he was trying to pull a chunk of shrapnel from a UNSC grenade from the rebel, who was letting out a blood curdling scream that overcame the steady fire between the UNSC and ELF. Yanking it out, the medic ordered Monroe to put pressure on the wound. Keeping his hand, covered with a hankerchief, firmly pressed on the wound, Monroe watched as the medic withdrew a canister of biofoam from his pack, and poured it into the wound.

Nodding to Monroe, the medic continued his work as the former returned to his position at the barrier. "We need to get moving now!" screamed their unit commander over the gunfire, getting steadily louder as the UNSC approached their position. "Quinn, Williams, help the Corpsman with the wounded! Monroe, Roberts, provide covering fire!"

As their other two squadmates and commander picked up the wounded, the latter two stood up and began firing. As they continued to retreat, Roberts' steady hail of bullets from his M262 was interrupted by the horrifying silence that came from the weapon.

Trying to unjam the weapon, Roberts was shot through the neck by a UNSC sniper far down the street. Panicking, Monroe fired his HMG-38 in short bursts at the enemy, stopping only to switch out magazines, as the rest continued to move at an agonizingly slow pace to the Spades.

As they piled into the trucks, Monroe manned the AIE-486H tribarrel machine guns bolted on the lead truck. As the trucks pulled away, driving at top speed to the extraction point, Monroe chambered a round, and began firing at any UNSC troops he saw, the 7.62mm rounds tearing through them.

As the convoy continued driving, Monroe heard a scream from the driver of his Spade. "RPG!", the man had yelled. Sure enough, when he looked up, a UNSC trooper hefting a rocket launcher had taken up position, and was preparing to fire. Pivoting to turn his weapon towards the assailant, it was too late, and Monroe watched with horror as the rocket streaked towards the truck, before a wave of heat washed over him, and he blacked out.

Awakening supine on the bed of another Spade, Monroe saw the medic over him. "He's alive, he's alive!", Monroe heard the medic cheer, faintly through the loud ringing in his ears. The medic took out yet another canister of biofoam, and Monroe felt a terrible prickling pain in his midsection. Looking around, he saw the convoy was finally out of the city, and still going.

As the truck came to a halt, two rebel soldiers helped pick up the wounded Monroe. Grunting as he was helped to his feet, he saw the extent of his injuries. His entire lower midsection was covered in wounds and burns.

As they boarded a Pelican, Monroe asked, "What the hell happened to me?". One of the rebels helping him aboard said, "You got caught up in the explosion and flames when that UNSC bastard fired his rocket. When we pulled you out, we thought you were a goner.  Maybe that thick head of your's saved ya."

Monroe began to chuckle at the man's jibe, but was cut off by a stabbing pain where the biofoam was. "Just get some rest. We're headed to the Gateway." Monroe, nodding, laid back and closed his eyes.

Evac
MAY 16TH, 2513

ERIDANUS II, ERIDANUS SYSTEM

1032 HOURS

"This is the Jackson, we've been hit!"

"Iliad, we're taking a pounding out here!"

All across the Eridanus Liberation Front's radio networks, reports were being rattled off by ship after ship above Eridanus II. In the Iliad's command center, ELF commander Robert Watts, kicked off one of the bulkheads to get a better look at the situation on one of the monitors. UNSC ships were everywhere, rebel ships were scattering, firing missiles across the blackness of space, and in atmosphere, rebel troops were engaging in brutal fighting against UNSC forces that had just landed.

Watching as an Archer missile nearly hit the Iliad, Watts knew the rebels had no way to win. "Order all groups to get the hell away from the engagement, and tell the ground troops to hold out and evac when they can!", he yelled.

"Sir, Alpha Group is ready to enter slipspace." calmly responded one of his crew. At another station, a crewmember turned around, and frantically said to Watts, "Beta Group just sent out an emergency statement. The Gateway's slipspace drive won't engage.  It's stranded."

Turning from his console, Watts retorted, "Move us in closer to Beta, and tell them that we'll buy them some time to make repairs. Tell them we won't leave them behind, but they need to make it quick!"

"Aye sir" the crewman responded. Looking around, Watts frantically searched for any way to give the Gateway cover while it made the necessary repairs. Out of one of the monitors, he spotted two Marathon Class Heavy Cruisers. All of a sudden, a realization dawned on him. "Bring us in towards those Marathons, and prepare to fire towing cables." he said.

"Sir?" a crewman responded with suspicion.

"Just do it!"

"Aye sir, bringing us in closer, and readying towing cables."

"Prepare to fire the cables at one of the Marathons."

"Roger, tow cables ready to fire on your command."

"Fire!" ordered Watts as the cables shot from the frigate, and attached themselves to the Marathon Class.

"Navigator, gun it!", he yelled.

"Aye sir!"

As the Iliad's engines screamed as it struggled to pull the Marathon Class, the cruiser's superstructure protested against the force being displaced on it. As it continued to bend, the structure eventually buckled, and the cruiser was split in two.

"We're not out of the woods yet.", stated Watts. "Navigator, bring that wreckage around, and club that other hunk of titanium."

"Aye sir, I recommend you hang onto something."

Grabbing hold of a chair, Watts struggled to hang on as the navigator made the necessary maneuvers. Craning his head around to the rear cameras of the Iliad, he spotted the wreckage of one Marathon slam into the other in a fiery collision. As the ship righted itself, the center erupted in jubilation at the small victory.

"Let go of the wreckage, and retract the tow cables." ordered Watts.

"Aye sir."

Turning his head to the Iliad's communications officer, Watts asked, "Is the Gateway ready?"

Nodding his head in the affirmative, the officer confirmed it, "The Gateway has completed its repairs, and is ready to jump to the rendezvous point. They send their heartfelt thanks."

"Roger that. Tell Beta Group to depart, and let's get out of here.

"Aye sir, engaging slipspace drive."

As the frigate tunneled a hole into slipspace, it became surrounded by blackness, leaving the fiery battlefield above Eridanus II behind. After an unknown amount of time, the ship finally exited slipspace at the rendezvous point. Looking around at the rest of the rebel ships that had made it, Watts felt sick to his stomach. Some of the ships were missing massive chunks of hull, others venting atmosphere, and some being nothing but carcasses, towed by others. The Colonel valued the lives of his men, and this was something hard for him to witness, but it was the price of war.

Getting on the armada wide communications channel, Watts stated, "All heavily damaged ships or evacuation ships with casualties have first priority to dock. Failure to comply with these orders will result in severe disciplinary action."

As the ships continued their solemn procession into Secundus, he forced himself to watch, repressing the urge to turn away from the carnage that he could not escape. When all the ships with casualties aboard had landed, he gave the rest of the ships permission to dock. Once the rest had docked, Watts finally ordered the Iliad in. When the frigate was caught by the docking clamps, the asteroid's bay doors closed, and the atmosphere filtered back in.

Disembarking from the ship, Watts saw the true horror of the Insurrection. ELF soldiers with gruesome wounds were being shuttled around on stretchers, some with missing limbs, others with their midsections torn open, being held together only with biofoam and their own will. Mustering up the courage, Watts went over to talk to one of the wounded.

Walking over to one of the lone stretchers waiting to be taken by the medics, Watts saw a rebel soldier, his lower midsection covered in bandages and biofoam. The rebel opened his eyes, and attempted to sit up and salute. Watts put a hand on his shoulder. "At ease son." he said.

The rebel looked up at the Colonel, and said to him, "Thank you sir, for saving us and the rest of the men aboard the Gateway". Watts nodded, and asked, "What's your name son?". The rebel responded, "Edward Monroe". Watts responded to him "Monroe, I don't leave my men behind to die. Now get some rest". "Sir.", the rebel responded, as he lay down and closed his eyes again.

As he trudged up the stairs to his own apartment, Watts felt despair wash over him. If this was his first time losing a battle, how would he react as he inevitably lost them again and again to the UNSC?

Raiding
Four Years Later'

SEPTEMBER 24TH, 2517

ERIDANUS SECUNDUS, ERIDANUS SYSTEM

0121 HOURS

Inside his apartment, Colonel Watts looked over Secundus' array of advisors as they looked over his plan. Their eyes went wide as they saw what Watts planned to do. "Sir, this is suicide. We can't afford to risk losing you and the Iliad for some supplies." Watts retorted, "Right now, it's a matter of quite literal life and death for Secundus and its citzens. We're running out of provisions, and we need them desperately."

"But if we lose the frigate, we will have no ship that is capable of truly defending the UNSC, and we'll have lost you as well."

"It's a longshot, but we're running risks every day. This is one we cannot afford to deny simply for the sake of danger."

"But sir..."

"No buts about it. I am the commander of this station, and I say the raid goes!  Understand again gentlemen, that if we do not launch this raid, Secundus may run out of provisions, and we'll be forced to surrender to the UNSC."

The advisors, especially those who had defected to the rebels from the UNSC, mulled over in their minds the possibility of what would happen. Death for high treason, no doubt. Looking up from their reflection, they came to a consensus. The raid would go on.

Once again in the Iliad's command center, readying for combat for the first time in nearly four years, Watts looked around again, impatient as they waited, staking out a known UNSC slipspace jump point. Chewing on his lip, Watts remembered the bloodbath that had been their retreat from Eridanus II when the UNSC faced them down.

"And that was with odds in our favor", he thought to himself. If he had to endure yet another failure like that, and watch more of his own, including his wife, pregnant with child, die because of his failings, he planned to kill himself with his sidearm.

But he was jarred out of these thoughts as the klaxons blared inside the center, indicating a nearby slipspace exit. "Navigator, what ship do we have in sight?"

"One UNSC cargo vessel, hull name, Dartmouth. Sir, they must have sent out a distress call, I have a frigate, the UNSC Journeyman, bearing down on us!  ETA is four minutes.", the crewman responded.

"Oh boy, now we have a frigate coming into the fray", Watts "Roger that. Take hold of her with the towing cables.  We'll have to make this quick."

"Aye, sir, towing cables released...and we have connection!"

"Good." Getting on the ship wide intercom, Watts announced, "All boarding crews, commandeer the UNSC cargo ship!". Watching from one of the helmet cameras of one of the boarding crews, Watts watched as they quickly neutralized the small crew, and took command. Radioing to the rebels, he ordered, "Make a break for the asteroid field, we'll rendezvous there at the predetermined point!" Turning to his navigator, he bellowed, "Take us out of here, now!"

"Aye, sir", the navigator responded, as the ship jumped to the coordinates Watts gave. After a few minutes of slipspace, the frigate exited in the safety of the asteroid field. Miraculously, Watts saw the Dartmouth very close to the frigate's position.

"Navigator, dock us with the Dartmouth.", Watts ordered as the two ships came closer and closer together, until they finally connected. With the two ships together, Watts went down to personally oversee, and congratulate, the transfer of supplies and boarding party, respectively.

As he floated down in the zero G aboard the frigate, Watts saw crate after crate of supplies and provisions being loaded into the frigate, and lashed down to prevent them from moving around. Walking up to the leader of the raid, Watts shook his hand, saying, "Good work out there soldier. You may have just saved Secundus."

"Thank you sir.", responded the leader. Floating back up to the command center, Watts ordered the ship back to Secundus. They had done it, against the odds, they had gotten the supplies. Secundus had been saved.
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