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Marooned - Chapter 2
Posted By: Steve Ollett<sollett@clydematerials.co.uk>
Date: 13 October 2003, 7:51 AM
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M A R O O N E D
---------------
CHAPTER 2
1605HRS 07-OCT-2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR)
SECOND PLANET OF ACKWAZE SYSTEM
The wind whipped up again, and the tents that were pitched nearby rippled loudly. Various loose sheets of paper positioned near to the microscopes whirled briefly before being carried away. A sample jar, perched precariously on top of an equipment case wobbled, then fell, shattering on the rocky floor.
This distraction was enough to break the mood of the scene. Private Travis Garrett had surmised that without the radio onboard the Albatross, contact with the Sheffield was impossible, leaving them marooned.
There were too many unknown variables in this situation thought Ryan. The Albatross's radio could have broken, or they might have been called back to the Sheffield. Or they might have gone to pick up the other science team on the surface.
The other science team! Ryan has forgotten about them. They were out there conducting similar experiments to Zoran. He wondered if they were having a similar experience. Too many variables, Ryan concluded - not enough facts. Unless he saw evidence of a downed dropship with his own eyes, he refused to accept Garrett's speculation. He had to restore some sanity to the situation. It had to be business as usual.
"Murray!" shouted Ryan, "Get a grip man." And beckoning towards his Warthog parked a short distance away, he added "Get the other Warthog over here and get it packed up with all the weapons and supplies it can carr-"
"What about my samples?" interrupted Zoran, clutching an arm full of documents he had hastily managed to scrounge up - only a small fraction of the papers that were already a good hundred yards or so from their position, in the progress of scattering like so much confetti in the wind.
"The samples are staying here" Ryan replied sternly, pushing his way past Zoran, causing him to drop a few more leaves of paper. "We're going back to the LZ. We'll come back for them later."
The sun lay low in the afternoon sky. The dark clouds loomed even closer. The valley now took on a bleaker look. The wind continued to buffet the tents.
"Erm, we might have a problem here sir." said O'Shea, taking Ryan on one side for a quiet conversation.
"What sort of problem?" asked Ryan, not liking the sound of what might follow.
"Seating arrangements, sir" O'Shea answered, "There's seven of us and only six spaces between the two Warthogs."
"Is that it?" said Ryan, somewhat relieved, "I Think I can sort that out..." he said with a smile. Ryan turned round and called, "Corporal Stocks! A minute of your time, please?"
"What's up Ryan?" said Stocks as he walked over. Out of curiosity, Private Murray tagged along with him.
"Our friend, Mr O'Shea tells me we have a problem with too many bodies, and not enough seats. Any ideas?" Asked Ryan, glancing between O'Shea, and Murray.
"Oh that's easy" laughed Stocks, "Just leave the scientist guy behind!" And, after composing himself again, Stocks winked suggestively at Ryan and added, "Or... the girl is welcome to sit on my lap all the way back!"
"Hmmm, nice idea John. As you've been giving young Murray a hard time over his chain-gun control," said Ryan, slapping Stocks on the back whilst trying not to laugh out loud, "We all thought that you could show us how it's done! Murray can sit upfront with me, and share a seat with Ms Moore, and Garrett and O'Shea can take Zoran in the other Warthog - Problem solved!"
Realizing that he had been setup, and everyone else was in on it, Stocks muttered under his breath in complaint. The one thing he hated more than being the butt of the joke was pulling duty on the Warthog's M41 LAAG (Light Anti-Aircraft Gun).
Ryan had heard Stocks complaining as he was turning to leave, and having waited till the others had gotten out of earshot, added one final twist of the knife, "Besides, you're looking a bit fat these days John." he grinned, "I thought you could do with the workout!"
"You Bastard!" was Stock's reply.
----
As the two Warthogs pulled away from the scientists' camp, the atmosphere in Ryan's Warthog could be cut with a knife. Corporal Stocks was unusually quiet, obviously still brooding over Ryan's last comment.
He wasn't fat, Stocks thought to himself; he just liked his food - that's all.
The only sounds that punctuated the growl of the Warthog's engine were various articles of webbing and equipment harnesses swinging against the Warthog's bodywork.
A brief burst of static preceded a message from the Warthog following them "Sir, it's Garrett. When we've made it through the pass at the top of the valley, adjust your heading to 271 degrees. The LZ is about two - two and a half hours away at this speed - we should make it before nightfall."
"Roger. Got that." Ryan replied.
Hopefully they should be able to get to some cover at the dropship before night. At the briefing in orbit, preliminary reports said that they should be prepared for the presence of some predatory species - but as long as that didn't include the Covenant then he could live with that.
An hour later they were out onto rolling grasslands as far as the eye could see, and making good progress.
Glancing behind him as he drove, Ryan realized that a sizable gap had grown between both vehicles.
Ryan yelled into his helmet comms above the roar of the Warthogs engine, "O'Shea, Is there a problem?"
"Could be" answered O'Shea. "I'm getting vibration through the front driver's side wheel assembly. It could be the wheel bearing on its way out, or maybe the transmission gearbox."
"Do we need to stop?" asked Ryan.
"No." was the answer. "There's nothing I can do to fix it. We'd have to replace the bearings and several oil seals and we don't carry any spares. Even if we did, it's a strip down job on the wheel assembly. Provided the shaft wasn't bent, or damaged in some other way, I'd have a difficult job fitting the new bearings - since the tolerance for the fit is so tight." Pausing for a second, he added, "The techs on board the Sheffield usually dip the driveshafts into liquid nitrogen to shrink the shaft's diameter, so that the bearings can be slid on, and we're not exactly equipped to be doing that."
"Understood." Said Ryan, "But leaving it as a simple 'No' would have sufficed. What now?"
"I'll try to coax some more mileage out of her," O'Shea replied, "We'll have to slow down a bit, and avoid the more rugged terrain. If the bearings do collapse, the wheel will seize up, and we'll only be good for driving around in a tight circle!"
"Ok, inform me of any developments. Ryan out."
Shit. That's all we need now, thought Ryan, as he adjusted his speed according to O'Shea's progress. He hoped that they would get to the LZ before nightfall.
----
About half a mile short of the LZ, O'Shea's Warthog finally gave up the fight.
Ryan stopped his Warthog and jumped down. He removed his helmet and slung it onto the driver's seat, and let out a sigh as he ran one hand through his matted hair, whilst looking into the distance.
The sun had slipped away below the horizon only minutes ago. Most of the clouds had been carried away, and although the sky was still light where the sun had been moments before, the first stars began to appear as brilliant points in the evening sky.
Ryan could have stopped to admire nature's beauty if it weren't for the pressing matter at hand. He needed a new plan.
"Ok people," Ryan announced as he turned and called everybody into an impromptu meeting, "We need to press on to the LZ - it's about half a mile from here. As we only have one useable Warthog, we're changing the seating arrangements. Murray; you're on chain gun - watch our six. Zoran and Ms Moore; you'll have to squeeze into the front passenger seat, I'm sorry but that's the way it'll have to be unless either of you know how to drive-"
"Sure, I'll drive!" Karen said, "Sean, er, I mean, Mr O'Shea let me have a go earlier today - nothing fancy - just creeping it along, with a bit of steering."
That's too convenient, thought Ryan, but nevertheless just what he needed.
"Alright then, you can drive" replied Ryan, as he slung his assault rifle on his shoulder, "The rest of us are on foot. I'll take point. Stocks; you're with me - I need that night scope on your S2 AM checking out what we're gonna' run into."
"I'm on it." said Stocks whilst cramming several extra magazines of the 14.5 x 114mm APFSDS (Armor-Piercing Fin-Stabilized Discarding-Sabot) rounds into his combat fatigues - the deadly ammunition of his pride-and-joy S2 AM sniper rifle.
"O'Shea and Garrett," Ryan continued, "You two stay close to the Warthog - Make sure young Ms Moore doesn't mow us down in her enthusiasm to help out."
The sound of weapons being loaded and checked filled the air.
O'Shea loaded his M90 shotgun, and slung it on his shoulder. He went though the same routine with his MA5B Assault rifle, slapping another clip into it. He checked the rifle's readout, satisfied that sixty 7.62mm armor-piercing rounds were ready for action, and that if they were to run into any trouble, they were packing enough heat to make the enemy think twice. Checking that the safety was on, he slung the weapon on his shoulder alongside the M90.
Garrett had already completed his weapons detail, and was busy packing a small portable computer terminal, together with various cables and tools. Shooting the Covenant was one thing, he thought, but you never know when you might need to hack into their systems - this stuff was too valuable to leave behind.
"Transfer whatever useful supplies you can from the dead Warthog," Ryan said as he checked the clip in his M6D pistol, "and load up with as much ammo as you can carry - I want to be prepared just in case of the worst." and holstered the weapon.
Ryan took his helmet from the driver's seat of the Warthog, and seating it on his head, he added, "Oh, and one last thing. Switch to Infrared on your helmet eyepieces' - I don't want to see any lights!"
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