Halo Lighting System First Strike Games - Manual (Page 22)

18 HALO: FIRST STRIKE
Fred sent a narrow-beam transmission on UNSC global fre-
quency. "Marine patrol, this is Spartan Red Team. We are ap-
proaching your position from your six o'clock. Acknowledge."
The Marines turned about and squinted in Fred's direction,
and brought their assault rifles to bear. There was static on the
channel, and then a hoarse, listless voice replied: "Spartans? If
you are what you say you are . . . we could sure use a hand."
"Sorry we missed the battle, Marine."
" 'Missed'?" The Marine gave a short, bitter laugh. "Hell,
Chief, this was just round one."
Fred returned the sniper rifle to Joshua, pointed toward his
eyes and then to the Marines in the field. Joshua nodded, shoul-
dered the rifle, and sighted them. His finger hovered near the
weapon's trigger—not quite on it. It never hurt to be careful.
Fred got up and walked to the cluster of Marines. He picked
his way past a tangle of Grunt bodies and the twisted metal and
charred tires that had once been a Warthog.
The men looked as if they had been to hell and back. They all
sported burns, abrasions, and the kilometer-long stare indicative
of near shock. They gaped at Fred, mouths open; it was a reac-
tion that he had often seen when soldiers first glimpsed a Spar-
tan: two meters tall, half a ton of armor, splashed with alien
blood. It was a mix of awe and suspicion and fear.
He hated it. He just wanted to fight and win this war, like the
rest of the soldiers in the UNSC. The Corporal seemed to snap
out of his near fugue. He removed his helmet, scratched at his
cropped red hair, and looked behind him. "Chief, you'd better
head back to base with us before they hit us again."
Fred nodded. "How many in your company, Corporal?"
The man glanced at his three companions and shook his head.
"Say again, Chief?"
These men were likely on the verge of battle shock, so Fred
controlled his impatience and replied in as gentle a voice as he
could muster: "Your FOF tags say you're with Charlie Company,
Corporal. How many are you? How many wounded?"
"There's no wounded, Chief," the Corporal replied. "There's
no 'company' either. We're all that's left."