User:ODST Joshie/Halo: June's Tempest

UNSC COLONY WORLD BABYLON, IL AQUARII SYSTEM, JUNE 2ND, 2576 (MILITARY CALENDAR)

It wasn’t even seven minutes after midnight before it happened. It was supposed to be easy – take out the SAM sites so that the more numerous and less stealthy Pelican gunships could penetrate the defenses, and wreak havoc. No way in hell were they that accurate. They must have run into their anti-aircraft fire. And so, probably the youngest Foray pilot ever was now at the controls, hoping that the bird would stay in the air long enough for them to make it back to base. The craft’s structure groaned, the engines wailed, and for Jackson, it sounded like it was in its death throes. The aircraft rolled right, but Jackson regained control, forcing the craft hard left.

In the back, the countermeasures specialist, Chief Warrant Officer 2nd class Jason Westlake breathed a sigh of relief, holding onto his countermeasures console while he continued to pray that Jackson knew what he was doing.

How did we even get into this situation? wondered Westlake, as he closed his eyes and attempted to recall the events leading up to where he was.

Fifteen Minutes Ago

“Charlie Romeo Six, this is Charlie Romeo One. Status report, over?”

“Romeo One, this is Romeo Six, we’re good to go. Forty kilometers away from target.”

“How’s the FNG doing?”

“He’s doing fine. Handling the weapons excellently! But, I think he’s getting a little bored with staring at desert!”

A chuckle was returned, and the chatter was replaced by idle static. In the pilot’s seat, Captain Henry Carson, UNSC Army, skillfully moved their M99 Close Assault Gunship over the barren landscape, staring in the distance as he saw lights, and then made them out as anti-aircraft fire.

“Look at that, Jackson and Westlake! The Innies are trying to scare us away!”

The pair in the second and third seats, respectively, stared away from their consoles for mere seconds, and watched the fireworks display in the distance. Flak, tracer rounds, the whole nine yards streaked into the sky, illuminating their night vision enhanced visors. They had come to Babylon after five Unified Earth Government diplomats were captured, brutally tortured, and left to die by an unknown rebel faction, who had broadcast their torture live all over the public COM channels, shocking any and all citizens. In response, the United Nations Space Command deployed their elite Special Operations Aviation Reconnaissance to raze their base of operations, located in the capital of the unfruitful and desolate world. According to the mission clock, they had lifted off less than thirty minutes ago, quickly making the two-hundred kilometer trip at full power, their engines blasting fire and heat towards the rear for propulsion.

Jackson, sitting in the co-pilots/weapon operator’s seat stared blankly at the city, where he would finally get into the action. What was hilarious about the situation, he thought, was that he wasn’t even qualified to be anywhere near a Foray, as he lacked the critical hours of flight time, and what was even more hilarious was that he hadn’t even passed the flight training required to fly a Heron, which was known to many Special Operators as a “death trap”.

How had he been placed in the gunner’s seat of a Foray? He assumed it was nepotism, perhaps some Army General believing that the UNSC owed him something, as his dad received the Red Legion of Honor during the Great War, and it probably would have made a great story – “SON OF HERO BECOMES YOUNGEST GUNSHIP DRIVER” – in the papers. He laughed at the newspaper title that he had thought up, and as they closed in on the city. He watched the fire fly into the air, and some exploded, others continued on until the laws of physics forced them to come crashing to the ground. For a split second, he was detached from what was actually occurring, until it finally struck him: that fire wasn’t friendly, and it was specifically meant for him.

After coming to the realization, he immediately swung into action; the Foray now near to the target zone, ready to engage any and all targets of opportunity. First on the menu was an enemy RADAR installation and Surface-to-Air Missile (SAM) site.

“Sir, they’re painting us!” yelled out Westlake as he deployed chaff and flares, hoping to cloud the RADAR’s sensors. Right after he deployed the chaff, an anti-radiation missile streaked off one of the Foray’s hard points, tracking the RADAR waves to its target, before hitting home in an inferno.

“Target One down, Charlie Romeo Six moving to Target Two, over.”

“Roger that, Charlie Romeo Six. We saw that from here!”

After the connection was shut down, Carson turned around to face Jackson, and gave him a thumbs up, smiling.

“Nice shot, newbie. Let’s see you do that again!”

The Foray swooped down, flying low over the ground, Carson showing off his piloting skill, which all SOAR drivers did. They were the hottest drop ship pilots around, forcing themselves to perform maneuvers that most other pilots wouldn’t even be able to handle.

After quickly moving towards the second site, the same thing happened again, Jackson launching an anti-radiation missile at the installation, and again, the station erupted in fire and flames.

“Alright, that makes two!”

As the Foray turned towards their last target, Jackson heard multiple pings, and in horror and shock, saw a splash of blood come from Carson’s head.

“Carson’s been hit! Repeat, Carson’s been hit!”

“Jackson, get a hold of her!”

The alarms blared, the craft spun, and Jackson saw smoke filling the cockpit. Quickly, he decided to get over his fear, and grabbed the second joystick, and jammed his foot onto the opposite pedal, attempting to slow the spin until the craft finally flew upright.

Sweat accumulated on his upper lip, and he bit down hard, straining to control the craft. Suddenly, after about ten seconds of effort, the spin slowed and stopped, and the Foray hovered.

Jackson, relieved, took a deep breath, and as soon as he did, more bullets hit the hull. Jumping into action, he put the throttle to full power, and attempted to fly the craft out of the battle zone.

“Sir, this is Charlie Romeo Six. We are exiting the area, and are in dire need of repairs. Base, get the Search and Rescue bird ready, as well as the fire crews, over!”

“Uh… roger that Romeo Six. We are awaiting your arrival.”

Jackson muttered a short prayer, and focused himself, straining to keep the aircraft straight. Receiving a flash of genius, Jackson forced the wounded craft to gain more altitude, and suddenly, it began to roll towards the right, and it began to lose altitude. The alarms continued to scream, and the aircraft moaned, its structure starting to fail, or worse, disintegrate. Shoving the stick hard left, as well as one of the pedals, the spin was corrected, and Jackson could see the base in the distance.

“Come on baby, just a little more.”

Carson had been fading in and out of consciousness. First, he had been flying his gunship towards its final target, and next thing he knew, he was face down, blood filling his vision, and unable to move.

Ok… we’re moving… but… if I’m not flying… then who is… Jesus...

The kid was flying the craft? He should’ve just landed it… my god, is he trying to make it back to the airfield? What if he crashes? Oh, what does it matter. I’m dead anyway… how long has it been... I can’t see the mission timer… this things falling apart… we’re going to die here…

Jackson tightly gripped the stick, praying just for a few more seconds of flight. However, suddenly, there was a slight hitch in their plan: their fuel was out.

On top of all of the other alarms, indicating fire, severed hydraulic systems, engine temperature, and structural integrity, they now had another issue. They didn’t have enough fuel to make it back. However, Jackson decided to shove the engine into full military power, then heard something behind him explode.

“Jackson, number one engine is gone!”

Jackson kept the second engine at full thrust, and heard it strain, running on pure fumes, hoping that it was enough.

For the next twenty seconds, Jackson held his breath, and let it go as they passed over the fence, the threshold of their small atmospheric air field. He cut the second engine off, and attempted to make a crash landing. However, his attempts were less than excellent, as the Foray hit the ground, crushing whatever landing gear existed, sending the Foray flying down the runway, spinning out of control until it came to rest on its side.

Before he lost consciousness, Jackson heard the sound of wailing emergency vehicles, and felt the heat of a fire.

The last thing he saw was the blackness of space, and the beautiful stars that surrounded the sky.

UNSC COLONY WORLD BABYLON, IL AQUARII SYSTEM, JUNE 4th, 2576 (MILITARY CALENDAR)

Jackson awoke to the sight of florescent lights, as well as the scent of clean bed sheets. They were white, much like the walls, and when he attempted to sit up, his chest ached. He looked up and saw the face of Carson, looking right back at him.

“How ya’ doin’, FNG?”

“Good sir, very… ow, good.”

Carson chuckled, and Jackson saw Westlake standing right beside him.

“You did good, newbie. Real good. They’re puttin’ you in for the Distinguished Flying Cross!”

Jackson groaned, held his side, then looked back at Westlake.

“Really…? For what? All I did was… fly…”

“That’s all you really needed to do. You saved not one, but three lives by not crashing into the ground, which is what I wanted you to do.” Said Carson, placing a Purple Heart on Jackson’s chest.

“That’s for you, as well. Here’s the certificate, and your bags are packed.”

“Packed, for what?”

“We’re going back home, at least, for a little while. Rest and Relaxation, really.”

Jackson attempted to laugh, but when it hurt, stopped, and smiled. He closed his eyes, and attempted to go back to sleep when two nurses entered the room, put him onto a gurney, and took him out to an awaiting Pelican, which took the trio into space.

Jackson thought he had it made as a SOAR pilot, however, he would soon be transferred to the Ranger Corps, and while he was on leave, he had to attend more and more press releases.

The headline: “Heroes: Like Father, Like Son.”