| 27 Aug 2006 11:38 pm |
KAGRENAC117 Guest | THE FINAL BATTLE.........
Chapter 1
It was a boiling sea of fire and death. It had been only a few units (Covenant increment of time and measurement) since the Brutes had declared civil war against the Elites. Pulse lasers and plasma torpedoes were crisscrossing the sky between High Charity and Delta Halo. Every second, no fewer than five Covenant ships would be obliterated, their silent explosions dotting the black vacuum of space.
Zuno ’Ossolee stood in front of the holographic terminals of his newly acquired Covenant flagship as the battle raged on. ’Ossolee was one of the Covenant’s more capable warriors, exhibiting supreme leadership capabilities in the heat of battle. Although he was known to launch Grunts out of the airlock when he was mad, he radiated a calm, respectable, and honorable stature.
“Prepare the ship for immediate departure,” he said over the ship’s comm system. “The Prophet of Truth doesn’t look kindly on those who run behind schedule.”
‘Ossolee ran a systems check and sent the command for the Slipspace matrix to heat up. The holopanel pulsed, displaying the power flow from the reactors to the Slipspace matrix.
A sudden stab of light stabbed the sky. ’Ossolee looked up to his view screen, which was displaying a pyramidal ship. It rose out of the center of High Charity’s domed section. Pinpricks of light surrounded the ship as it left the combat area.
“The Prophet of Truth is starting his sacred task,” ’Ossolee said over the comm. “Prepare to escort the Prophet to the final destination, Earth.”
The pyramidal ship suddenly vanished into the infinite void of Slipspace, followed closely by the flagship.
Unbeknownst to both the Prophet of Truth and Zuno ’Ossolee, they had some unwelcome guests on their ships.
A Grunt named Gagaw grumbled as he marched in between the cargo modules that were lined up I the ship’s enormous shuttle bay. His footsteps echoed, breaking the eerie silence of the bay.
If I only had a higher rank, he thought, I’d make some other chump do this job.
He was about to check in with his superior when a sudden noise alerted him. He spun around, drew the needler he was carrying, and brandished it at empty space. He tilted his head, confused, when he heard it again. A squishy, slithery sound. It seemed to be coming from behind one of the cargo modules. He carefully inched his way toward the module.
Suddenly, something hurled itself toward Gagaw and landed on his face. He screamed and fired off a few wild shots as the thing drove a needlelike penetrator through his eye and into his brain. He fell to the ground and waited as he transcended the physical.
An Elite named Ado ‘Rolamee shifted uneasily as he stood in the corridor outside the shuttle bay. It had been six units since the Grunt named Gagaw had checked in for shuttle bay duty. Lateness wasn’t tolerated in the Covenant, but the lower classes were known to frequently stretch this rule.
He was considering filing a report when the door to the shuttle bay opened. He turned around and saw…nothing.
Now, Elites are known to have an over inflated sense of honor, and no fear of combat or death. As ’Rolamee looked down the empty corridor, a wave of fear swept over him. He shrugged it off though, and slowly headed through the door, drawing his plasma rifle.
He entered the shuttle bay, and the doors, sensing his entrance, closed behind him. While he scanned the bay, he didn’t notice the large, bulbous figure that approached from behind.
‘Rolamee heard a thump, and turned around just in time to see the figure behind him fall to the ground and explode. ‘Rolamee’s shield generator overloaded and failed as he was thrown into the air. He crashed into a cargo module, heard something snap, and knew no more.
Chapter 2
Pinpricks of light stabbed the night sky as the pyramidal Forerunner ship and the Covenant flagship appeared on the outer reaches of Earth’s atmosphere. The sudden appearance caused the comm traffic in the region to triple as the remaining UNSC ships asked for orders on how to deal with the new threat. Then, the MAC rounds were flying.
The first salvo from the Super MAC orbital platforms streaked through space and impacted on the Forerunner ship. When the debris from the shattered Mac rounds cleared away, the Forerunner ship was speeding toward Earth, green energy shields shining in the sun’s light. The second salvo, however, flew straight for the Covenant flagship.
The first round hit the ship’s shields, and punched through, putting a hole through the nose of the ship. The next three rounds hit the engine room and the reactors. The resulting decompressions and explosions blew the ship onto a spiraling course towards Earth.
‘Ossolee was leaning against the holographic terminal, a trickle of blood flowing from the corner of his eye. A fire was burning between a pair of power conduits, located in one of the room’s two maintenance pits.
Another MAC round, followed by eighty-four Archer missiles hit the hull. The ship shook violently, and the superstructure started to rent itself apart. One of these rents, by a million-to-one chance, connected an air vent from the shuttle bay to an air vent in the ship’s bridge.
It was about two minutes later that the metal grating covering the air vent blew open, and no less than thirteen spherical creatures entered the room.
‘Ossolee was busy yelling over the comm when one of the creatures collided into him from behind, draining his shields to three quarters. He turned to see the things moving towards him. He drew his specially permitted energy sword and charged into the fray. He was swinging, cutting up the little pods, when yet another MAC round tore through the ship. ’Ossolee flew through the air and hit a bulkhead, falling into unconsciousness.
The Covenant flagship was a complete wreck. The ship had sixty-four percent of its hull breached. The reactor was demolished, and the engines weakly flared with the little power they had left.
The ship tumbled toward Earth, right through the Human-Covenant combat zone. As it started to hit the Earth’s atmosphere, what was left of the ship’s energy shields popped like a soap bubble. With no shields, the ship heated up and glowed as it rocketed down to Earth.
Chapter 3
Down on the surface, the Covenant were slowly and steadily overrunning the human forces. Everything was going to hell. All the stops had been pulled out: M808B Scorpion Main Battle Tanks, LAAG and LAAV Warthogs, Pelicans with missile pods, Longsword bombers, and somebody from Fleet Highcom HQ went so far as to have multiple regions sterilized with tactical nukes. Even with this, the Covie bastards had still managed to seize roughly forty-seven percent of the planet. The Marines in the area, luckily, had managed to hold a line for the last three hours.
It was approximately eighteen hours since the Covenant had entered the system, when a disabled Covenant flagship crashed into what was left of northern Manhattan island. It was also about the same time that Sergeant Alex Valdez and his three platoons of marines were scouting that area. So, as it is easy to predict, Valdez ordered his men across the Brooklyn Bridge to investigate.
Valdez stopped his men about half a kilometer from the crash site. He had his men take up positions in the wreckage of the once glorious city. He had no intention of being picked off by enemy snipers.
He then had a platoon of marines( twenty privates, and two corporals), and two Warthogs move out towards the wreckage. He stayed behind, though, so he could keep a watch on his troops. The platoon he sent out was making good time, so he didn’t expect the search to take too long.
Corporal Lance Fitzgerald and his men were investigating the crash site. Ten marines searched the wreckage and twelve stayed on and around the Warthogs to provide support if needed.
Small to medium sized explosions blossomed out of the many holes in the hull. One of these explosions managed to throw a horribly disfigured body out of the ship. It then landed on an unfortunate private.
“Holy Crap!” he yelled as he squirmed out from under the body. “What the hell is that?”
The figure resembled what looked like an Elite, which had been sliced like an egg and then poorly stitched together after being buried for two weeks. It was a horrible sight. One private, who had the poor misfortune of having a weak stomach, wretched her lunch.
“What the hell could have done this?” Fitzgerald asked no one in particular.
“Maybe an experiment gone wrong,” a private suggested.
They were still discussing the possibilities when the body stood up and charged towards them.
“What the-” was all Fitzgerald could say before the mangled Elite swung a long tentacle and neatly cut his head off.
“Holy shit!” they all yelled, and then they opened fire.
The ex-Elite was consumed by a hailstorm of bullets, and fell to the ground. It was then that the poor soldiers saw more of the horrible things crawling from the holes in the ship’s hull. One of these monstrosities lunged toward a private, landed on his shoulder, and drove a needlelike penetrator into his spine. The comm traffic doubled.
“What in God’s name is that?”
“Get it off!”
“Fire!”
The sound of the Warthogs’ M41LAAGs roared as the heavy 12.7x99mm armor piercing rounds obliterated the figures into fleshy bits. Then at least forty of the ex-Elites were visible along side of the busted Covenant ship. It was then that only one word could be said…
“Retreat”!
Every single marine turned and ran while the Warthog gunners provided blanketing fields of fire. The yelling and screaming could be heard by Sergeant Valdez, who was busy laying out battle plans. He looked up in confusion, asked for his binoculars, and observed the situation.
It was utter chaos as the marines came running to the fallback position. A young rookie, Private Hectors, radioed ahead.
“We’ve got contacts! They’re not Covenant! We can’t hold them back! We need to fallback, get off the island!”
“Listen Private,” Valdez tried to say calmly, “You can’t give orders, and we sure as hell aren’t going to back down just because we have something new to deal with.”
“ You don’t understand,” Hosky yelled desperately into his mike, “These things just keep coming! We shoot one, ten more take its place! We can’t hold our position! We have to, What, OH NOOOO!…static.
Valdez looked up through his binoculars, and saw what looked like rotting corpses overpower the troops and their Warthogs.
“Fallback,” he said. “FALLBACK!”
“Call HQ, we need five Longsword interceptors with heavy, bombs. Tell them to target every bridge, tunnel entrance, subway station, and harbor within a two mile radius of Manhattan island. Everybody get off the island, we have approximately three minutes!”
Everyone started running as fast as they could. Then it got even worse than possible.
“Contacts! Enemy contacts!”
Covenant started to appear as if out of thin air. It was like they knew that the unfortunate marines were in the worst situation possible.
“Keep running!” Valdez yelled. “Engage the enemy only if their in the road!”
Valdez was about to target a Jackal, when a Corporal right next to him got his head blown off. Valdez was splattered with blood, and he was encouraged to kill every alien he could.
The troops were on the bridge when the first Longsword came into view. It made its pass, checking its targets, then it came around, letting loose with everything it had. Debris flew everywhere, and the shockwaves shook the bridge’s titanium supports. They ran with renewed energy.
There were, unfortunately, five marines still crossing the bridge when the rest of the Longswords dropped their loads. The poor guys never had a chance.
As the last explosion died out, the remaining access points to and from the island were completely destroyed. There was no way that those things could get off the island. Valdez wasn’t sure, but he knew that this wasn’t over.
| |
 | | 27 Aug 2006 11:39 pm |
KAGRENAC117 Guest | Chapter 4
On board the Forerunner ship, the Prophet of Truth was getting ready to go down to Earth and find the Ark. From there, he could remote activate the other Halo installations, and destroy all life except for himself. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the clack of metal boots.
The next thing Truth knew, he was in a headlock of enormous strength. The figure doing the headlock was obscured by the shadows, but wasted no time talking.
“You’ve made a big mistake coming,” the figure said. “It’s time that you were taken out.”
The figure stepped into what little light the ship’s interior had. Iridescent green battle armor shined in the light, along with the winking of energy shield emitters. The dark visor of the helmet looked down upon the helpless prophet, not saying a word. It was the Master Chief.
“Demon,” Truth said with a mixture of awe and hate. “You cannot possibly hope to win.”
“You have no back up, and no plan. You are dead in the water,” the Master Chief said.
Unfortunately, their little chit-chat session had to be cut short. Four minutes after the Forerunner ship arrived, Admiral Hood Ordered every orbital platform and ship to target it. Super MAC rounds and ship MAC rounds streaked through space. The impacts shattered the shield, and punched through it in many places.
The resulting attack caused the Master Chief to be thrown to the opposite side of the ship’s control room. Truth managed to grab hold of one of the holopanels, and punched multiple buttons. The ship jolted forward as the engines blasted the ship onto a new course.
The Master Chief got up, his shields completely drained. He took out an M6C pistol that he had picked up from a human combat form in High Charity. He aimed it right for Truth’s head, but before he could shoot Truth turned around.
“This ship is now on a high speed trajectory. It will be completely destroyed when it crashes on Earth’s surface, and so will you.”
Truth tapped an activation icon and he was lowered by a gravity into the ship’s only escape pod. As soon as he shot clear of the ship, he flew down to Earth. The Master Chief ran to the holographic terminals. He had no clue as to what did what, but the symbols seemed oddly familiar.
Man, I wish Cortana was here, he thought. She’d know what to do.
Being the person that he was, he did the first thing that came to his mind. He pressed the activation icon that Truth pressed, and was lowered into the escape pod airlock. He stepped in, and opened the blast doors. The decompression of the airlock caused him to shoot out of the airlock, down a five hundred meter long shaft, and into space.
If only he had a camera. UNSC ships were blasted out of the sky. Covenant ships were ripped to shreds. Seraph and Longsword fighters were having brutal dogfights.
All the Master Chief could do was float helplessly in space, waiting for Earth’s gravity to pull him in. He couldn’t have picked a worse situation to be in.
He was doing some quick thinking when a nearby explosion caught his attention. He saw three Longswords gang up on a Seraph, riddling it with bullets. They must have hit something vital, because the fighter suddenly stopped, dead in space. It was about forty meters away.
He was only going to get one chance at this. He moved his arms, turning him in a direction that was just to the right of the fighter. He slowly brought his legs in, and then kicked them out, causing his joints to pop in the process. He crawled through space, slowly getting closer to the disabled craft. He reached out to grab hold, stretching his arms as far as he could. Only fifteen meters to go. He was going to make it.
He reached out and grasped onto the edge of a large hole in the ship. He pulled himself inside, and saw what was left of the pilot’s body, a bullet riddled mass of flesh and bones.
He brushed the dead pilot aside and manned the controls. They weren’t damaged, so that was a plus. He pushed a likely looking icon and the ship came to life. He quickly familiarized himself with the controls, which were very similar to the Covenant Banshees that he had flown before.
The Chief turned the ship toward the nearest orbital platform, which was the Cairo and, surprisingly, it was perfectly undamaged. He hit the throttle to half power and the Seraph sped away.
It wasn’t long before a squadron of Longsword fighters decided to turn his ship into flaming shrapnel. The angular fighters took up positions on his six, arming their missiles.
The Master Chief opened a comm channel. “This is Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan-117. Recognition code Tango Alpha Three Four Zero. Hold your fire, repeat, hold your fire.”
Their was a crackle over the comm, and a pilot’s voice broke through.
“A Spartan? That’s grade-A bullshit. Everybody knows all the Spartans are dead. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow you to pieces.”
There was a group of Seraphs closing in on a lone Longsword at that time. The Master Chief opened the throttle to full power , and started to mow them down with plasma fire. The alien ships were protected by their shields for only a second before the plasma burned through them. Tiny puffs of vented atmosphere could be seen.
“That’s why, pilot,” the Master Chief said into the comm. “Now get me clearance to land on the Cairo.”
“Yes, sir!”
The Longswords sped toward the Cairo, while the Chief took out a few Seraphs that were in his way. By the time he was given clearance to land, he had already sent eighteen Covenant pilots to their deaths.
The airlock doors that led to the hanger were open. The Master Chief flew in, heard the door close and the airlock pressurized. He landed his ship, climbed up and out through the hole in the hull, and jumped to the ground.
When he looked up, he saw several naval officers with dumbstruck expressions, and a very surprised Admiral Hood.
“Master Chief Spartan-117, reporting for duty, sir.”
Chapter 5
“Master Chief! Damn good to see you son,” Admiral Hood said with a hint of anxiousness in his voice. “Now I know we can win this battle.”
“Yes sir, Admiral.” The Master Chief took out his M6C pistol, and let the clip (along with the last two bullets) fall to the ground with a clack. “First, I’ll need a weapon.”
“We’ve got plenty of those, Master Chief!” said a nervous looking ensign. He went to a panel on the wall, pressed a series of buttons, and a portion of the wall opened up to reveal shelves of weapons.
“Take your pick, sir.”
The Master Chief grabbed a dozen frag grenades, two SMGs with eight clips of ammo, a battle rifle with six clips, and a Jackhammer launcher with two reloads.
Normally, he would have told a soldier off for carrying such a heavy ordinance. But the Covenant weren’t going to let him exchange weapons in the heat of battle.
“Where do you want me to begin the cleanup?” he asked the Admiral.
“I have the perfect mess, Master Chief,” Hood said. He led the Chief to the hangar window, a meter of reinforced glass, and pointed to a Covenant destroyer, which was busy turning an orbital platform into liquid metal.
“That bastard has already taken out twelve orbital guns,” Hood explained. “ I want you to take it out from the inside. Our Super MACs can’t seem to penetrate the hull, and nuclear missiles, besides knocking down their shields, can only heat up their armor slightly.”
“With pleasure. But first, I need its shields to be taken down. Otherwise I won’t get in,” he said.
“Already taken care of,” Hood replied.
Two of the orbital guns rotated and fired on the destroyer. Twin bolts of lightning collided with the ship’s shields, which immediately dissipated.
“Thanks, Admiral,” the Master Chief said as he climbed into his Seraph.
Twenty seconds later, the Master Chief was shooting towards the Covenant destroyer at Mach 1. The destroyer’s shields were still down, but its point defenses created overlapping fields of fire, preventing any ship from getting close. It was almost indestructible.
The Seraph’s view screen showed that the destroyer’s shuttle bay shields were down, which allowed more Seraph fighters to join the battle. He quickly hit the throttle to full power, pushing the ship to just under Mach 2.
Incoming anti-ship pulse lasers shot towards him. He did a series of barrel rolls and corkscrews to avoid the enemy fire. This also put him in between the Covenant destroyer and a Covenant frigate.
Not good.
Both of the ships let loose multiple pulse lasers and plasma blasts. The Master Chief had to make hard turns, tricky maneuvers, and numerous brake/accelerate moves in order to dodge successfully, but was rewarded when the lasers and plasma slammed into the opposite ships. The destroyer didn’t even flinch as the lasers cut into the hull. The Covenant frigate, however, had its shields mercilessly bombarded until they flickered out. This gave the UNSC ships nearby the perfect opportunity to turn the frigate into swiss cheese.
This proved to be an excellent distraction. The pilots of the destroyer must have been slightly shocked from their grave error, because the ship stopped firing its weapons. Facing no opposition, the Master Chief landed in the destroyer’s shuttle bay with ease. Just to be sure, the Master Chief threw a pair of grenades out of the hole in the ship. The explosions that followed blew apart a pair of Jackals and a lone, cobalt armored Elite. It looked as if they had hid inside one of the cargo modules that littered the shuttle bay.
The Master Chief jumped out of the Seraph, and landed on the deck below without making a sound. He immediately headed for the door on the far left side of the shuttle bay. If this ship was anything like the others he had been on, this door would lead to a corridor that led to the control room. He opened the door to find at least twenty Grunts in the following corridor.
He immediately whipped out his SMGs and unleashed a hellish barrage of five millimeter rounds. Methane tanks popped, heads were blown off, and bodies fell as the green armored warrior sprinted through the corridor. Grunts tried to run, but were soon cut down by the wall of bullets.
By now, all the Grunts were dead, and the Master Chief had depleted two clips of ammo for his SMGs. He reloaded both weapons and switched to his battle rifle. The corridor was larger than normal, and the reason was soon apparent. He turned a corner to see a pair of Hunters crouching behind their shields, and their fuel rod cannons glowing.
They fired.
He dived for cover.
There was a blast of heat and the spot where he had been standing was now a smoldering crater, two meters across and three quarters of a meter deep. He immediately backtracked down the corridor, unslung his Jackhammer launcher and took aim.
The Hunters, fortunately, thought that they had obliterated him. They rounded a corner, completely unaware of what lie ahead. That is, until the rocket was a meter away from them. The ensuing explosion blasted both Hunters to kingdom come. Fleshy bits and orange blood covered the corridor walls.
The Master Chief smiled. These bastards get stupider every day, he thought.
Chapter 6
The situation was FUBAR. If you don’t know what that means, then you can either ask a war veteran, or you should watch Saving Private Ryan. The living corpses, now accompanied by fresh human ones, had used Banshees from the wrecked Covenant flagship. Now the battle was against the Covenant, and ugly walking zombie horrors. Containment was impossible, and more kept showing up. Sergeant Valdez had already lost about two-thirds of his men. All he had left were eight terrified privates, and a shaking looking corporal.
There was a loud explosion as one of the privates who was carrying a rocket launcher, shot down one of the airborne Banshees. A ball of flame and wreckage crashed down upon more of the mutated hostiles, putting a large hole in the oncoming mob.
Two of the privates had shotguns, which they were taking out dozens of the monstrosities with. It appeared that only shotguns and rocket launchers were close to being effective.
So it was a major spirit breaker when both privates fell under the tide of the little balloon-like creatures.
Valdez felt like he was in one those Resident Evil games, where the zombies freaks came at you slowly while you riddled them with bullets. The two major differences were that they ran, and head shots didn’t work.
With only six privates and one corporal left, no wait…correction, only the six privates, Corporal Jones was being ripped to shreds, Valdez started to lose hope. The only comfort he had was that he was going to die fighting.
The constant staccato of the marine’s battle rifles resonated through the air. The gurgling sounds of the creatures, the yells of the troops, it was all drowned out. The occasional thump of a frag grenade would echo throughout the battle zone.
“Sarge!”
Valdez was suddenly shaken out of his trance. He turned to see a pale skinned private with several gashes on his arms. He looked like he was petrified.
“Yeah private, what is it?”
The private didn’t respond.
“What’s wrong?”
Nothing.
Then Valdez noticed the tentacle that was protruding from the guy’s chest. The body fell to the ground, revealing an ex-human, which Valdez immediately recognized as what was left of the corporal that had been killed by those balloon things.
“Son of a bitch!” he cried in surprise.
Without thinking, Valdez ran up to the thing, smashed its head with the butt of his rifle, and shoved a grenade into what was left of the corporal’s ammo belt. He turned, ran like hell, and jumped behind a small boulder, just as the grenade detonated. Gore flew in all directions.
Valdez looked up to see that three of the things had been blown apart. He looked around a saw the last private get overwhelmed.
I’m alone, he thought. I’m the only one left!
The situation he was now in was more than he could take. All of his men were dead, and he was now the only target left. Every creature was now coming for him. His mind was racing in all directions with no clear objective. All his men were dead, he was in the middle of an army of freaks, he couldn’t think straight.
And then the shit hit the fan.
“Aaaaaaaah!”
The cry shattered the skies above and shook the ground below. All of the creatures stopped and started clawing, hitting, and clasping their sensory organs, trying to drown out the horrible sound of anguish that filled the air. Some of the balloons popped and a couple of the blimps with legs fell to the ground and exploded.
Valdez ran towards the remains of his troops, grabbed a pair of SMGs, and looked to his adversaries. The creatures were still stunned by his cry, unable to do a thing.
“You bastards are going down!”
He fired the SMGs into the horde. Dozens of rounds pelted the wall of tentacled, writhing figure, wounding and killing many. When the SMGs dry-clicked, he didn’t bother reloading. He dropped them, picked up a rocket launcher and fired. Carnage was thrown into the air, and seconds later it splattered back onto the ground.
“You’re all going to rot in hell for what you did to my men!” he yelled.
He slapped a reload home and fired another volley of rockets. Thirty-five bodies were blown to pieces.
The things were now really pissed off, and they charged en masse towards him. They were all making those gurgling sounds which served as their piss poor form of communication.
“Come and get it!”
He dropped the spent launcher and picked up the only weapons left, two M6C pistols with three clips each. Not the best weapons for his situation, but stylish.
The pistols’ telltale cracks filled the air. Five hostiles immediately fell. Forty-eight rounds later, nineteen more were down on the ground.
Valdez dropped the pistols and started engaging the enemy in hand-to-hand combat. He delivered a spinning heel kick, which pulped an ex-Elite. He then cracked another’s spine, and ripped off one of its tentacles, which he used like a sword, cutting up dozens more. One of them tried to sneak up on him, and was met with an elbow to the chest, which crushed the balloon creature inside.
Valdez was in a swirling void of hate and power. All he could see were the creatures, and all he could sense were his movements. He was in a his body, yet he wasn’t in his body. Every second, he could see multiple bodies hit the ground.
An ex-Elite suddenly landed in front of him and took a swing at Valdez. He dodged so that he wasn’t killed, but he still got thrown into the air. One of the balloon creatures slithered over to him and tried to drive its penetrator into his neck. He grabbed the thing and through it at one of the walking blimps. The penetrator went into its body, and it exploded, ripping the others around it to shreds.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally regained his composure enough to look around.
Every single one of the creatures lay dead on the ground. None of the bodies moved.
God DAMN! I’m still alive, he thought.
He heard a distant screeching sound off to his left. Just barely visible were a few more creatures, the bulbous blimp ones. At the same time, heard the roar of a Pelican’s engines. He decided to forget about the things that were still alive. He would let everyone know during his debriefing. Slowly, he walked towards the Pelican.
“It’s time to move out.”
| | | 27 Aug 2006 11:40 pm |
KAGRENAC117 Guest | Chapter 7
The Master Chief fired another three-round burst, wasting the last Elite in the long, blood spattered corridor.
The Covenant destroyer’s crew seemed to be made up of only Grunts, Elites, Drones, and Hunters. He was still silently thanking God for there not being any Brutes or Jackals. If this wasn’t good enough, the Covenant soldiers were poorly disciplined and easy to deal with. The Chief would lob a frag into the mob of troops, blowing a hole in their formation, lay down suppression fire with the SMGs, taking out the Grunts and Drones, and then he would mop up the Elites and any others with the battle rifle. If there were any Hunters, he would smoke them with the Jackhammer.
The Master Chief ran down the now empty corridor, his footsteps echoing off the walls.
Now I really wish Cortana was here, he thought. She was always leading him in the right direction.
He rounded a corner, running right into two Hunters guarding a door. He quickly hid in a small alcove hidden in the shadows and took a peek. The behemoths had their backs to him, and they didn’t make any indication that they had heard or seen him.
Perfect.
Instead of wasting one of his rockets, he primed a grenade and threw it, landing it right in-between the two Hunters.
They started to turn-
Fwump!
He whipped out his battle rifle and took aim. Just as he predicted, the blast had killed one of them, and the other was disoriented. Five three-round bursts and the last Hunter was down.
He walked through the carnage, and saw the intact remains of one of the Hunter’s fuel rod cannon. It was still glowing with energy.
Securing the battle rifle across his back (next to the Jackhammer launcher) and he picked up the cannon. It weighed about eighty kilos, which was the Spartan equivalent to a can of coffee grinds. On the inside was what looked like a pressure sensor, probably what passed for the trigger.
The opportunity was too good to pass up. Using his augmented strength, he started to disassemble the Hunters’ armor. The shields on their arms were too strong, but the breastplate, shoulder and leg plates were thin enough for him to rip off and reshape. He fashioned a makeshift shoulder strap and belt, and on the side opposite the shoulder strap, he rigged a crude latch and clip. This would allow him to carry the fuel rod cannon and manage his weapons easily and efficiently. He hoisted the cannon and clipped it onto the belt.
Feeling comfortable with his new “toy,” he walked up to the door the Hunters had been guarding. A holopanel to the left pulsed with a blue glow. The Master Chief pushed on the blinking “button” and the door slid open.
He was standing in a room that looked to be at least one square kilometer big. There were row upon row of shelves and on those shelves were Covenant weapons.
Plasma pistols, plasma rifles, plasma grenades, needlers, carbines, beam rifles, fuel rod guns, portable plasma turrets, energy swords, Jackal shields, and in a separate section, brute shots and brute plasma rifles.
Jackpot!
Wasting no time, he took inventory. He had used six of his frag grenades since boarding the ship, so he grabbed six plasma grenades. He had only forty rounds left in one of his SMGs, so he exchanged them for two plasma rifles. His battle rifle still had three clips left, and his launcher had four rockets left, so he decided to keep those.
Since the plasma weapons had no “ammo” in a sense, his ordinance had become lighter. He was tempted to drop the fuel rod cannon he had and exchange it for a fuel rod gun, but since the cannon recycled its energy, it didn’t need to be reloaded at all, which was very useful. With that being the case, he decided to look around for some more firepower.
There were plenty of weapons, but none that were meant for the situation he was in. He still had to find a way to destroy the ship. He came across a section with some weird satchel-like devices. There was a sign labeled with the Covenant’s highly decorative calligraphy. The translation software in his suit decrypted the sign and a read out came up on his visor: Anti-Matter Charges
Cha-Ching.
He quickly grabbed two and secured them to his shoulder strap. These things would rip the ship to shreds, and since there was plenty to go around…
He pulled three charges, set the timers for what his suit could translate as five minutes, and spread them out throughout the room. Then he set the timers on ten of the charges on their shelves. This was going to be one hell of an explosion.
Time to go.
He ran out the way he came in at a dead run. The winding corridors were like a blur. He entered the shuttle bay to find about twenty Grunts, and eight Elites inspecting the Seraph he had used. They were clustered together in a large group.
Stupid.
He readied his fuel rod cannon and fired. A beam of brilliant green energy shot out and flash vaporized a Grunt. He swung the cannon around and cut down five more Grunts plus two Elites. He unslung his launcher and fired two rockets into the crowd. The remaining Elites were blown to pieces.
The Grunts scattered as he ran toward the ship. He jumped in, started the ship up, and took off. He aimed the plasma cannons at the shield generator that protected the shuttle bay and fired. The generator melted, the shield died, and the bay explosively decompressed, launching him out of the destroyer. The atmosphere in the Seraph was sucked out through the hole in the hull, sending the ship spinning out of control.
The Master Chief glanced at the timer on his HUD.
2:34...
The Covenant destroyer’s point defenses immediately opened fire. A pulse laser penetrated the hull the hull right next to the Chief’s head.
1:52...
As he struggled to regain control of the ship, voice came over the comm.
“Master Chief, this Admiral Hood. We have you on radar. Did you take care of that destroyer?”
0:39...
“Yes sir,” said the Master Chief. “I always complete my missions.”
“Good work,” Hood replied. “We have a temporary base of operations on the surface where you can help with the ground forces.”
0:23...
“Thank you sir, Master Chief out.”
He pushed his Seraph to full speed as he cleared the destroyer’s air space.
0:05...
0:04...
0:03...
0:02...
0:01...
0:00.
A blue and white sun appeared in the sky. The energy shields of the destroyer held it in for a split second before it burst through with all the destructive power of a small supernova. Dozens of Seraphs that had been caught in the blast were reduced to atoms.
The Master Chief piloted his ship down to Earth, preparing for the battle ahead.
Chapter 8
The trip down to Earth’s surface was uneventful. When you’re going at about Mach 7.5, you don’t see much. Two and a half minutes later, the Master Chief had a visual of the temporary Marine base. It was set up about four kilometers south of Manhattan island. There was a long row of Scorpion tanks and LAAG Warthogs visible, and it curved off into the distance.
What’s going on? he thought.
Ping! Pang! Ping! Ping!
The Chief was shaken out of his deep thinking to realize that he was being shot at.
“This is Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan-117, hold your fire,” he said into the comm. “Acknowledge, over.”
There was static mixed with muffled yells before a voice broke through.
“Nice to hear from you Master Chief,” a female voice said. “You are cleared to land. Use pad three.”
An elevated patch of dirt was immediately illuminated by white strobe lights. He brought the Seraph down and landed with ease. He jumped out and landed on the ground. The base, although temporary for the moment being, was bustling with activity and well supplied. As he surveyed the base, he saw a badly wounded sergeant being walked over to the first aid tent by a medic. The wounds were particularly nasty, but very familiar…
“Master Chief!”
He turned around and saw a sergeant with short red hair saluting him. She was about five-foot six inches tall, with a stern look on her face.
“Sergeant,” he returned the salute. “What’s the situation here?”
“About three hours ago, a Covenant flagship entered the system. It was disabled, and it crashed on Manhattan island. Sergeant Alex Valdez was scouting for Covenant activity in this region, and he went to check it out. When he was debriefed about ten minutes ago, he said that he and his troops had encountered some weird creatures,” she explained. She took a breath and continued, “He described them as living parasitic balloons, walking bombs, and tentacled mutant zombie horrors. He also said-”
“Wait!” the Chief suddenly snapped. “What did he call them?”
“Parasitic balloons, walking bombs, and-”
“Where is he?”
Over by the first aid tent, but-”
“Thanks.”
He turned and left the sergeant completely baffled. The first aid tent wasn’t that far, and he walked over and entered.
God dammit.
There were three mutilated bodies laid out on examination tables. A pair of doctors were busy performing an autopsy. The ravaged bodies started bringing back horrible visions, and he suddenly felt very tired. He sat down on a nearby cot, took off his helmet and started taking unnecessarily deep breaths.
“What’s up with you?”
The Chief turned his head to the right, and found himself looking at the beaten up sergeant that he had seen earlier.
“Are you Sergeant Valdez?”
“That’s me,” he replied. “You hear to laugh at my horror story like everyone else?”
“I’m guessing that not everyone believed you.”
“I wouldn’t say that. A few people were convinced, which is the reason why they set up a perimeter around the island and this base. Even so, many laughed so hard they pissed their pants.”
The Master Chief said without hesitation: “I believe you.”
Valdez looked up, surprised, “Why?”
“Because I’ve fought these things before.”
Ten minutes later, and every ranking officer on the base was gathered in the tent that served as the situation room. The Master Chief was now discussing the magnitude of the situation everyone.
“They are called the Flood,” he explained. “A parasitic life form with one purpose, to seek out and consume sentient life. Now…” He turned toward the view screen and inserted his suit’s memory processing crystal. “Before I continue, I must warn you that this is strictly classified information. Highcom doesn’t want any of this reaching the wrong ears.”
He typed in the download sequence code and multiple read outs, photos, and scans of the various Flood forms appeared on the screen.
“This is an infection form,” he pointed to a group of photos, which were automatically enlarged. “They move with the use of tentacle appendages and they infect the host by tapping into the spinal cord and injecting a number of chemicals into the host’s central nervous system. These chemicals cause the host to mutate uncontrollably, and allows the infection form to take complete control of the host’s body.”
He paused a moment, then moved onto the next form.
“They then become Combat forms. The infection form squeezes itself in between the organs of the chest cavity and operates from there. They Combat forms have heightened strength, agility, and the incredible ability to jump extreme distances. They also can take an enormous amount of punishment.”
By now many of the officers were looking at each other with grave looks of concern on their faces. The Chief continued anyway.
“Next is the Carrier form. Depending on the host, the infection form will either mutate the body into a Carrier form or a Combat form. When a Combat form is no longer fit for battle, it will convert to a Carrier form. These things are basically incubators that house more infection forms. Their only purpose is to seek out any forms of life and release the infection forms. When they release their infection forms, they fall to the ground and burst open with all the explosive force of a grenade, shredding those who are nearby. They are, however, good for eliminating any nearby Flood forms, but that doesn’t improve the situation much.”
He ended, leaving a very tense atmosphere in the tent. One terrified looking lieutenant managed to speak out.
“If what you say is true, how are we supposed to deal with these things?”
“I was just about to get to that,” he replied. “The options are quite simple. I’ve fought God knows how many times against entire mobs of these bastards, and I find that grenades, shotguns, rockets, chain guns, and Covenant plasma rifles to be the most effective. Being backed up by a tank, Warthog, or Pelican helps a lot. I see that you’ve done one hell of a job setting up a perimeter around the infected area, but if we want to make sure that the threat is completely neutralized, then this entire sector is going to have to be sanitized.”
The lieutenant that had spoken earlier found his voice again.
“You want us to nuke Manhattan Island?”
“Exactly,” the Chief replied.
Chapter 9
The Covenant were being held at bay. The orbital Super MACs were blowing gaps in the field, and the UNSC ships were staying intact.
The fight on the ground was also in favor of the humans. The Covenant were still trying to hold on to their captured section of the Earth. It was a mystery why they weren’t just glassing the planet, but no one was complaining.
“Two-point-three kilometers and closing fast!”
Five minutes had passed since the Master Chief had given his little seminar on the Flood, and the small base was on high alert. Motion sensors placed in the “Hot Zone” were giving some enormous readings. They were coming.
He looked around. All the soldiers had been equipped with shotguns, grenades, rockets, SMGs and battle rifles. All the tanks and Warthogs were revved up and ready for the supreme carnage that would soon be upon them. The Pelicans were prepping their missile pods. In the distance, you could see the cloud of dust that the Flood were creating.
“One-point-eight kilometers!”
“All right soldiers, listen up!” the sergeant said, her eyes full of fire. “The Master Chief is to have your complete obedience in battle. He gives an order, you follow it, no complaints!”
“Yes, ma’am!”
“One-point-two kilometers!”
Okay, men,” the Chief said. “Our objective is to contain the Flood within the nuke’s immediate blast radius until the last minute. This is going to be a quick and painless fight, which should have no effect on the battle with the Covenant.”
“759 meters!”
“Scorpions, engage!”
The sounds of the tanks launching their ninety millimeter shells reverberated through the air. The ground shook in sympathy as geysers of dirt were created where the shells impacted. The Master Chief activated his helmet’s zoom function and took in the situation.
Hundreds of Flood forms.
Not good.
“Warthogs, suppression fire!”
The jaw-rattling staccato of the Warthogs chain guns was music to the ears. Spongy gore and liquefied organs splattered the ground.
“428 meters!”
“Pelicans, strafing runs!”
The Pelican dropships flew through the air like majestic birds, unleashing a hellfire of missiles. Bodies flew and carnage blanketed the battlefield.
“Battle rifles, fire!”
The Master Chief raised his own rifle and fired four three-round bursts into a Combat form, which succumbed to the rifle’s heavy rounds. The rest of the soldiers were letting loose with everything they had.
“Rockets, fire!”
No less than thirty-eight rockets flew toward the wall of tentacled horrors. Another thirty-eight rockets soon followed.
“I want three Warthogs to drive out and do some damage at point-blank range,” the Chief said.
Three Warthogs zoomed off into the battle. There were dozens of bodies on the ground, so the Warthogs made for good mulchers. The gunners were making sure that every body was completely destroyed.
The Flood were about fifty meters from the line of tanks when the Master Chief activated a handheld detonator. A row of buried Lotus antitank went off, sending shrapnel right through the Flood forms. The Master Chief took out his secondary weapon, a shotgun, and ran towards the mob.
“Hold the line!” he yelled over his shoulder.
He ran toward a Carrier form and blew its legs off. It fell, and the explosion that followed blew two Combat forms to pieces, and detonated a frag grenade. He shot out the stomach of an ex-Elite, and pulped a group of infection forms under his foot.
“Admiral Hood,” he said into his comm. “This is the Master Chief. Proceed with the launch immediately. Over.”
He continued to blow the heads off of a few Flood forms while he waited for a reply.
“I hear you Master Chief. You have five minutes. Over and out.”
“Okay!” he called out to the marines through his comm. “We have five minutes to clear the six mile blast radius! MOVE!”
Every soldier got on a vehicle and sped away toward the fallback point, all the while blasting the hell out of the Flood. Troops crammed into the Pelicans, despite the tight fit.
Except for the Master Chief and two marines.
At least they had been left with a Warthog.
Even better, it had a Gauss cannon.
“Get in!” one of the marines yelled.
The Master Chief got into the driver’s seat and floored the accelerator.
VROOM!
The Warthogs powerful engine roared as the all-terrain tires sprayed dirt into the air. The Warthog tore off, going from zero to seventy miles an hour in four seconds. Twelve more seconds, and it was going 115.
The Master Chief took a look at the guy riding shotgun. He was a Private, and a very scared one at that. The gunner was none other than Sergeant Valdez.
Out of nowhere, a human Combat form landed on the hood of the ’Hog. It lashed at the Chief with a tentacle, smashing him in the helmet and draining the shields to zero. The suits warning alarm blared. He was defenseless…
Green gore suddenly covered the Chief. He turned to see the smoking barrel of the Gauss cannon.
“Thought you could use a hand,” Valdez smirked.
“Thanks,” replied the Chief.
“How much longer?” he asked.
The Master Chief was totally lost. How could he have forgotten? He looked at the timer.
“Fifty eight seconds!” he yelled.
“How much farther?”
“Three miles!”
The Warthog was now going at about 130 miles per hour. Off in the distance, the contrail of the missile was visible as it streaked toward its target.
As if summoned by some demon of bad luck, the terrain started to get boggy. The Warthog was forced down to eighty miles an hour. They still had about two miles left, and thirty-eight seconds.
One mile left and the missile was ten seconds away from its target. This was going to be very close.
“Brace yourselves!”
A second sun appeared on the horizon, followed by an enormous shockwave that violently shook the Warthog, and closing in fast was a wall of fire. It moved much slower, but it was still catching up.
“Faster!” Valdez yelled.
“We’re not gonna die. We’re not gonna die,” the Private was whimpering.
The heat radiating from the wall of flame was tremendous. The Chief’s shields flared.
Only 200 meters to go.
The fire was twenty-five meters away.
150 meters to go.
Eighteen meters away.
100 meters to go.
Ten meters away.
Fifty meters to go.
Three meters away…
The Warthog shot off a dirt mound and shot through the air as the wall of fire reached its limit. The intense heat washed over the ‘Hog angrily as it sped off toward the fallback point.
“Yeah! Kick ass!” Valdez cried.
The Chief turned to check the Private. He had fainted.
“Now it’s the Prophet’s turn,” the Chief said quietly.
Chapter 10
The time was drawing near, Truth could feel it. With the help of a squad of Grunts, Elites, and Hunters under his command, he had located where the entrance to the Ark was. A Covenant stealth ship was hovering couple hundred meters above the ground, charging up the energy projectors that would tunnel into the ground.
Soon…
The Flood had been quickly dealt with, and there had been no casualties. You couldn’t ask for a better situation.
The Master Chief was now trying to grab a few minutes of rest while he waited for the Pelican to arrive at the Prophet’s location. A Highcom satellite that had managed to not get destroyed, had picked up a group of Covenant, along with a stealth ship, right in the heart of the Middle East.
For the upcoming battle, the Master Chief had been given a Scorpion tank, a LAAV Warthog, and thirty ODSTs (Orbital Drop Shock Troops), more commonly known as “Helljumpers.” The Master Chief was going to try to make this a simple search and destroy mission. Search out the Prophet, then destroy him.
The Chief had brought his old M6D pistol with three clips, a battle rifle with five clips, two SMGs with eight clips, and the fuel rod cannon and antimatter charges he had snagged from the Covenant destroyer, plus six frags and six plasma grenades.
“Five minutes!” the pilot yelled, causing the Chief to snap out of his small nap.
“Okay, listen up,” the Chief told his men. “The fate of the galaxy is resting on our shoulders. Kill, destroy, completely annihilate the Prophet and his troops. Don’t worry about wasting ammo when we clear the LZ. A pair of Pelicans will be coming in seven minutes for a weapons drop. Now let’s go and finish this fight!”
“Sir, yes sir!” they all cried in unison.
The Pelican soared through the air, did a quick 180 degree turn, and started to descend.
“Contact!” a soldier yelled.
Five Grunts led by a gold armored Elite were running towards the Pelican, letting loose a barrage of plasma. Behind them was a large shaft in the ground.
“That’s our target!” the Chief yelled. “We need to secure that shaft!”
He readied his fuel rod cannon and mashed down the pressure sensors. The tell-tale lance of brilliant green energy flew through the air and proceeded to cut down the nearest Grunt. He swept his gun around, melting two others before the cannon stopped to recharge. The Helljumpers filled the remaining troops with hot metal slugs, turning their bodies into pulp.
“Disengage the Scorpion and the Warthog,” the Master Chief called out to the pilot.
The Scorpion and the Warthog fell to the ground with a resounding thud. The Helljumpers filed out of the Pelicans, which then turned and flew off into the distance.
“Okay. Three men on the Warthog, six on the Scorpion. The rest maintain a perimeter around the vehicles.”
“Sir!”
The Master Chief hopped into the tank as the Helljumpers went to their positions.
“Move out, men!” the Chief yelled.
The group moved towards the shaft. It looked like it had been drilled by an energy projector. A quick inspection confirmed this, the sides were melted and charred. The rest of the shaft seemed to go on and on into the depths of the earth. That is, until the bottom came up to meet them.
But it wasn’t the bottom. It was a swarm of Drones.
Complete with a wall of plasma.
“Shit!” one private screamed as his torso was melted.
The Helljumpers laid down some heavy fire, trying to hold the swarm back. The Master Chief activated the Scorpion’s secondary weapon, a high powered machine gun that fired 7.62mm AP-T, antipersonnel rounds. Dozens of Drones were shot down, separating into green chunks. The group exited out of the shaft, they were getting pushed back.
“There’s too many of them!” a corporal yelled.
Guns rattled, shell casings clattered on the ground, Drones squawked, and the air roared. Louder and louder…
“The Pelicans are back!”
The Pelicans flew overhead, their 70mm chain guns blazing a trail. The Drones took one look, then scrambled back down the shaft. The Pelicans launched multiple missiles down the shaft, which caused debris and gore to shoot out of the hole.
“This is Zeta 287 commencing weapons drop. Give ‘em hell!”
“Roger that,” the Chief replied through his comm.
Both Pelicans dropped a total of sixteen pill shaped capsules before flying off. They hit the dirt, and their reinforced translucent plastasteel covers popped off, revealing multiple weapons. Each capsule had a maximum off two weapons.
The Helljumpers replenished their ammo and grabbed fresh weapons as the Pelicans flew off.
“Back to your positions,” yelled the Chief. “We’re short on time.”
Once again, the group marched down into the dark shaft. The Helljumpers activated their tactical flashlights as the darkness closed around them. The Warthog’s and Scorpion’s headlights lit up the dark shaft. On the walls, strange glittering symbols twinkled in the darkness. Once again (this was really starting to piss the Master Chief off), the symbols seemed so familiar.
As they went deeper, the symbols shined brighter. Almost instinctively, the Master Chief turned the Scorpion’s lights off.
“Everybody turn off your lights,” he said.
“What? It’s pitch black!”
“Stow the B.S. private and do as you’re told.”
The lights flicked off. The strange symbols now seemed to grow brighter, generating their own light. Soon, the entire shaft was filled with a golden light.
“What the hell is this?” a corporal cried out.
The light continued to the end off the shaft, a large wall of strange metal. Apparently, the Covenant energy projector hadn’t punched through. There were symbols on the wall, except they were in square patterned formations. One of these was at eye level, and it was shaped like a galaxy.
“How are we supposed to get in?”
“Let’s blow it open!”
“If the Covenant couldn’t blast it open then we sure as hell can’t, you ignorant ass!”
“What did you say!”
“Shut up!”
All the Helljumpers fell silent at the Master Chief’s outbreak. He didn’t like to lose his temper, but time was short and he didn’t feel like listening to guys bitching. He turned his attention back to the glittering symbol in front of him. What was he supposed to do?
He reached out hesitantly, and then touched the symbol. Immediately, the tunnel was filled with extremely bright light, so bright that the Chief’s helmet visor went to it’s darkest setting. The light was still too bright. All of the Helljumpers covered their faces with their arms. The light was so intense that the temperature seemed to get hotter.
After a few excruciatingly long seconds, the light disappeared. Everybody turned their lights back on.
“Okay,” one of the soldiers said. “Just what the fuck is going on?”
Suddenly, the wall split apart, each half sliding into the sides of the shaft, revealing a well lit corridor that was the spitting image of the corridors on Halo.
“It’s time to end the war.”
| | | 27 Aug 2006 11:41 pm |
KAGRENAC117 Guest | Chapter 11
Two Hunters stood next to the door that led to the Ark’s library. Truth had given them strict orders to prevent anybody from getting in.
The library of the Ark was a lot smaller than the one on Halo. Another plus was, there wasn’t Flood crawling out of the walls. In the center was the Unity, the Ark’s equivalent to the Index. It was seven palm-sized models of each individual Halo, connected at their edges so that a sphere was formed. Each one glowed lime-green, except for one of them that pulsed red, representing the one that the Master Chief had destroyed.
Ironically, the Prophet was having hard time getting it. It floated on a pedestal in the center of a large room. The pedestal was surrounded by a bottomless shaft, surrounding that was a force field, and surrounding that was the walkway that the Prophet was standing on. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get to the Unity.
Meanwhile, the two Hunters continued to guard the door. One paced impatiently, while the other stood next to the door.
Down the corridor opposite the door came a faint click, which alerted both Hunters. The one that had been pacing lumbered into the corridor. Two seconds later, he came flying backwards into the room, being propelled by a beam of green energy. The Hunter hit the ground, the beam cleared his body, and it headed for the next Hunter. He didn’t have time to look up.
Out of the shadows came the Master Chief, his fuel rod cannon smoking, and his group of Helljumpers. Unfortunately, they had to leave the Warthog and Scorpion at the entrance. The corridors were just too small.
“Hell yeah! The Master Chief scores again!”
They approached the door, which turned out to be locked. Looks like the Prophet was finally learning how to play the game.
“How do we get in?” a private asked.
“We blow it open,” the Chief replied. He took one of his anti-matter charges off and attached it to the door. He set the timer for thirty seconds and tapped the activation icon.
0:30...
“Back down the corridor! Take cover!” he yelled.
The Helljumpers ran as the Master Chief piled the Hunters’ corpses in front of the corridor’s entrance. They would provide some protection.
0:22...
He ran.
0:18...
He rounded the corner where the Helljumpers were crouching, and he planted himself against the wall.
0:12...
He then realized that he had used thirteen of these charges to blow up the Covenant destroyer, which had been over three kilometers long and half a kilometer wide. What the hell was that charge going to do in a small corridor with the only exit being the one that was past them?
0:07...
He was just going to have to find out.
0:04...
0:03...
0:02...
0:01...
0:00.
The explosion shattered the silence with an earsplitting roar. The ground shook with the force of an earthquake of nine on the Richter scale. Suddenly, blue and white fire shot out of the entryway. This was intense. The Master Chief’s shields flared and died.
The blast lasted only a few seconds, but that was long enough for the walls, ceilings and floors to melt. The door itself wasn’t even in existence anymore. There was a hole about ten meters in diameter in the two-meter thick wall.
On the other side, a few dumbstruck Elites just stood there.
“Hit ‘em Helljumpers!” the Chief shouted, and he fired his SMGs.
The Elites immediately hit the ground, dead. Approximately one kilometer away, Truth heard the shots.
“Go give our guests a proper welcome,” he told his troops. Half of his battalion immediately headed back through the Library’s passages…
“Damn. I wish my house was this big.”
The Master Chief and his troops had been slowly advancing through the Ark’s library for about ten minutes. The walls were covered with the strange symbols and every twenty meters there was a power conduit. It was very quiet, which made everyone very tense. Then all hell broke loose, and the only way to accurately understand the situation is to look at it frame-by-frame.
A plasma bolt came out of nowhere and melted a corporal’s head, while a plasma grenade blew three troops into a pile of burnt flesh. A misfired rocket hit a power conduit and the resulting overload blew a giant gap out of the Covenant horde that had materialized out of nowhere. An Elite’s shields overloaded as a three-round burst from a battle rifle punctured its head, and he hit the ground the same time a Grunt had filled a private’s body with crystalline shards.
“Take cover!” the Chief yelled out. He emptied his SMGs into the crowd, taking about a dozen of the bastards out. He didn’t waste time to reload and switched to his cannon. The familiar lance of green light melted two Hunters and a couple of Jackals.
The Helljumpers were laying down a merciless barrage of bullets. A Jackhammer rocket detonated, giving the Chief enough time to reload is SMG’s.
“We need to push forward!” he yelled out.
The marines started advancing on the withering Covenant troops, as the battle raged on.
The panel pulsed as the energy shield was deactivated. A light bridge came into existence.
“The Great Journey is finally about to begin,” he told his guards.
The vibrant shock of an explosion filled the room. Truth grabbed the Unity from the pedestal and turned around.
“We must hurry, before the Demon and his troops reach us,” he said.
“They’re falling back!” the Master Chief said. “Regroup and salvage ammunition from the dead before they launch a counterattack.” He picked up seven grenades from a dead corporal’s ammo belt, and an SMG clip. He was about to grab a plasma pistol when he heard a strange humming. It sounded like…
“Oh, shit,” he said. Not again, not here.
He turned around and saw a spherical machine with a single, glowing white eye and a wraparound housing. It stopped and hovered in front of him.
“Oh fuck. Fire! Fire! Everybody open fire!” He fired with the plasma pistol as he ran backwards. Hundreds of rounds flew past them towards their target. Thick smoke soon filled the air.
“Cease fire!”
The smoke cleared, and the machine was still floating their, apparently not damaged at all.
“That was unnecessary. I am 010 Divine Leader, the monitor of Installation 00,” he said cheerfully. “It has been a long time since a Reclaimer has been here. I am most delighted to-
“Cut the crap,” the Chief said angrily. “Let me guess, we must collect the Index, activate the installation, and in doing so wipe out any and all life that may sustain the Flood.”
The Monitor looked at him as if he was puzzled.
“Why, no Reclaimer. This installation is not in need of activation. No report has been sent from any of the other installations reporting a potential outbreak. Installation 04 was destroyed because of reasons unknown, and Installation 05 hasn’t sent its yearly maintenance report, which suggests a communication link failure,” the Monitor paused before continuing. “However, a group of unidentifiable beings seeks to remote activate the other installations, which is in violation of protocol. I shall require your assistance in preventing them from doing so.”
There was a moment of undeniable joy, excitement, and thankfulness in the Master Chief. Finally, he had been given a break.
“I, uh, would be delighted to, err, help out,” he told the Monitor.
“Splendid! I shall send for some Sentinels to assist you.” The Monitor floated away.
The Master Chief turned to see his men looking at him with looks of disbelief.
“Don’t ask. Let’s just say that he’s going to help us. Move out!”
“Sir!”
Chapter 12
The Control Room of the Ark was, if possible, at least ten times bigger than the one on Halo. In the center of the room was a holographic projection of Earth, which continuously opened up to reveal the intricate machinery below the surface. The outer portion of the room was occupied by projections of all the other Halo installations and their separate star systems.
Truth headed for the terminal. A hollowed out portion, shaped like a semi-sphere, represented where the Unity was to be placed.
“The time has come,” he said aloud. “We shall be sent down the divine path of salvation!”
An orange beam shot through the air and hit a Grunt. The methane tank sparked and popped like a firecracker. The smell of ozone filled the air. Dozens of angular machines floated toward the Covenant soldiers. Plasma and energy filled the air.
“Attack!” Truth yelled. “Destroy them!”
The Master Chief and his men marched through the winding passages of the Ark. The Monitor was leading them to the Control Room. Sentinels surrounded the group, providing protection if necessary.
“So,” the Master Chief said. “Are there any Flood here?”
“Of course not, Reclaimer,” the Monitor replied. “This installation wasn’t meant for the Flood’s containment. It was rather meant as a control center for the containment of the Flood housed on the other installations, and as a research facility for analysis and experimentation on the Flood. My creators decided to have Flood specimens carefully transported here for their experiments, and have them immediately terminated afterward to prevent any outbreak. They discovered many things about the Flood.”
“Did your creators happen to develop weapons that were effective against the Flood?” the Chief asked.
“Why, yes. Weapons were developed, but due to the Flood’s remarkable ability to regenerate and reproduce, no weapon was truly effective in eliminating the parasite. All except for the installations, which starved them of their food.”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious that it wasn’t effective,” the Master Chief growled. “These things can lay dormant for thousands of years.”
“That was an unforeseen variable,” the Monitor chirped.
Off in the distance, a muffled boom could be heard.
“We are nearing the Control Room,” the Monitor said. “I suggest you ready your men.”
“Right,” the Chief replied. He turned towards his men.
| | | 27 Aug 2006 11:42 pm |
KAGRENAC117 Guest | Chapter 13
“Lock and load!”
Truth wasn’t happy. The Sentinels were holding the immediate perimeter around the terminal and were starting to gain ground. Then, if it were bad enough, Sentinels with energy shields showed up. They were armed with more powerful weapons. Then, an Enforcer (a.k.a. Sentinel Major, Sacred Icon level of Halo 2) showed up, followed by another.
What happened next wasn’t clear, but it was loud. A huge shockwave ripped through the air, knocking the Covenant troops to the ground and causing some of the Sentinels to fall to the ground. The wall where the door was melted away in a raging inferno of blue and white fire. An unfortunate squad of Grunts were instantly dematerialized.
A figure in green armor ran through the hole in the wall, followed by twenty-one humans in black tactical suits. Bullets soon joined the air.
“Demon!” Truth screamed in rage. “I am going to destroy you once and for all!”
How he planned on doing it, the Master Chief never found out. An Enforcer launched an all out mortar attack, putting a wall of fire between him and the Prophet of Truth.
Truth smiled evilly at the Master Chief.
The Master Chief looked back at Truth.
It was a classic stare down.
Of power…
Of rage…
Of the boiling ball of plasma heading right for his face.
The Chief ducked and aimed for the shooter, an Elite Honor Guard. It had a plasma pistol in one hand, and an energy sword in the other. He fired with his battle rifle, and three rounds spat out before his rifle dry-clicked.
Out of ammo.
He dropped the rifle, and took out his SMGs. The Elite dived for cover, causing the majority of the bullets to miss. The Chief shifted his aim and caught the Elite’s unprotected side. The shields flared and died, followed by an arterial spray of blue blood.
His SMGs were now empty, so he dumped them and grabbed the fallen Elite’s energy sword. He used it to dissect a Jackal, who in return gave the Chief its portable shield generator. This would help him run through the battlefield.
“We’re pinned…Covenant all…can’t hold…”
The Chief looked around and saw a group of Helljumpers pinned behind a pile of Covenant corpses. Five Jackals had overlapped their shields to form a phalynx, allowing them to mercilessly bombard them with plasma.
He readied his fuel rod cannon and fired. The shields died, and the Jackals were sent to a fiery death. The only remains were a few piles of smoking, charred innards.
“Thanks Master Chief!” the soldiers said.
“Men, I need you to clear a path for me through this war zone. I need to stop Truth.”
“Can do, sir.”
The Helljumpers took out what little ammo they had left for their launchers and loaded up.
“Fire!”
Eight rockets shot out in a vertical line formation. Huge gaps were blasted out of the mayhem. The Master Chief aimed with the fuel rod cannon, which had recharged, and sent the remaining bastards to hell. A nice “path” now went through the battlefield to Truth.
“Thanks!” the Master Chief said as he ran through the battle.
He was running at about sixty-five kph (kilometers per hour). He was closing in on Truth, who was raising the Unity in front of him.
The Master Chief unlatched his ammo belt, along with the fuel rod cannon’s shoulder strap and the portable shield generator and let it fall to the floor. His speed went to eighty-five kph. He held the energy sword ready in his hand. He was almost their…
A plasma grenade detonated right next to him. He shrugged off the blast. The audible alarm blared as his shields tried to recharge. An energy projectile from a Covenant carbine hit his shoulder. His armor deflected the shot, but a black spot marked his shoulder.
Truth was holding the Unity closer to the terminal, and he was lowering it. He was going to win…
And the Master Chief would lose.
But he never lost…
Gathering all the energy he could, he put on a sudden boost of speed. 102 kph. He stepped over a dead Elite, put his left foot on the corpse and pushed himself into the air.
Like a bullet, he soared through the air. A few Covenant soldiers stood in place, dumbstruck.
Truth lowered the Unity closer to the terminal. He looked behind him…
And the Master Chief speared the energy sword into his head.
It was a moment where the noise dies down completely. Truth was still trying to place the Unity into the terminal, being driven by pure determination alone. His eyes were fixed on the Master Chief with the utmost hatred and rage.
“Like I said, you made a big mistake coming here.”
He pulled out the energy sword, allowing Truth’s body to fall to the ground. The Unity was still clutched in his hands. The Chief picked it up and turned around.
Every Covenant soldier was looking at him. Nobody moved except for the remaining Helljumpers, who continued to shoot the motionless Covenant soldiers. They didn’t even flinch as their fellow soldiers were gunned down.
They just stood there, staring at him.
A lone Elite Honor Guard stepped forward one step and stared at his Prophet’s dead body. The Master Chief’s augmented hearing picked up an increase in the Elite’s breathing.
Not good.
The Elite roared, and the rest of the Covenant horde quickly followed suit.
Definitely not good.
What happened next would probably never occur a second time. Every Elite dropped their weapons and drew energy swords. Every Jackal dropped their weapons and drew fuel rod guns. And every Grunt and Drone dropped their weapons and drew carbines. They all started to close in on the Master Chief.
He assessed the situation. He was surrounded by a little less than a hundred Covenant troops who were armed to the teeth. The only support he had were eighteen Helljumpers who were located behind the Covenant mob. His only weapon was a half depleted energy sword, all his other weapons he had dumped in order to reach Truth in time. The conclusion was simple.
He was well and truly screwed.
A thin purple beam hit the lead Elite in the head. It penetrated his shield and split his head open, letting the gelatinous brains splatter on the ground. Silhouetted in the Control Room’s entrance was Sergeant Johnson. He was holding a beam rifle. To his left was Commander Miranda Keyes. She held two plasma rifles. Standing to Johnson’s right was the Arbiter, and floating above them was 343 Guilty Spark.
Another Elite, this one in shining silver-white armor, appeared from behind. One of his two jaws was missing.
He cried out, “Go forth my brothers! We shall put an end to the lies of our Prophets!”
No less than a hundred Elites, in blue, cobalt, and gold armor, came charging into the room. Once again the air was filled with plasma, energy, and bullets.
The Master Chief dived for cover behind a small pile of corpses. He picked up two fallen plasma pistols and a plasma grenade. He was about to shoot the nearest Elite when he realized that he didn’t know which Elite to shoot. They all looked alike. That being the case, he targeted the Jackals, Grunts, and Drones.
“I thought I’d never see you again!” somebody said.
The Chief turned around to see Sergeant Johnson, who still had his trusty cigar stub in his mouth.
“You came just in time,” the Chief commented. “I was about to get cooked.”
Johnson fired his beam rifle, gutting a Jackal. The Chief fired a ball of plasma, which melted a Grunt’s methane rig. The poor bastard fell to the ground to die of asphyxiation.
“Who are your friends?” the Chief asked.
“The one in the gray armor is the Arbiter, who I believe you’ve met before. He said that he’s the one who got the boot when you destroyed the first Halo. The Prophets made him the Arbiter, who is called upon in times of crisis to fight and die to restore peace,” Johnson stated. “I say that’s some pretty deep bullshit. The other guy with the shiny armor and the missing jaw was the only guy who was willing to help us.”
Fifteen meters away, Keyes and the Arbiter were doing some pretty good damage.
“Hello, Reclaimer. We meet again.”
Right in front of the Master Chief was Spark.
“I must say that even with your low tech armor system, you are exceptionally skilled to have survived this long,” Spark chirped.
“I suppose you are still mad at me for destroying Halo,” The Master Chief said.
“Oh, yes. I am very displeased that you destroyed such a marvelous example of technological genius and thwarted my attempts to activate the installation, but that is in the past, and nothing can change that.”
“If you two are going to kiss and make up, I suggest that you hurry up!” Johnson yelled out.
The fight was getting increasingly bloody. Most of the Grunts and Jackals had been killed, but there was still a large amount of Drones flying around. The Elites were too evenly matched as to tell which side was winning. A fresh flock of Sentinels and Enforcers joined the battle. Bringing up the rear was Divine Leader.
“Sorry that the arrival of Sentinels was delayed,” he said cheerfully. “There was a malfunction in the drone control system.”
“Did you use a quantum loop equation to realign the system matrix?” Spark asked.
“Why yes, it is the most efficient method.”
The Master Chief returned his attention to the battle. If the two wanted to rant about their vast intellects and mechanics, that was fine by him.
A ball of plasma sizzled by, centimeters from the side of his head. He responded, burning off a Jackal’s hand. Two more shots and the Jackal hit the ground dead. The Master Chief took his plasma grenade and hurled it fifty meters, where it stuck to the side of a Drone’s head. The grenade went of, taking out three more that had been flying too close.
The Sentinels that were still in the air rained fire down upon the Covenant soldiers. The smell of ozone permeated the air. An Enforcer launched a wave of explosive mortars. Gore carpeted the ground.
The Master Chief watched with satisfactory as his pistols’ batteries drained while two overcharged balls of plasma burned up the last Jackal. He dropped the wasted weapons and ran over to a dead Elite. There was a plasma rifle, which he picked up.
“Master Chief! We could use some help!”
The Arbiter and Commander Keyes, along with the twelve remaining Helljumpers, were being pushed back towards the entrance. Five gold armored Elites with carbines, had built a makeshift “bunker” out of the bodies of their fellow soldiers. They were only exposed from the top.
The Master Chief pushed off the floor, and soared twenty meters. He landed gracefully, not making a sound. He dealt a fatal blow to the back of the first Elite’s head. The others turned and fired. The Chief’s shields drained to half as he was pelted by energy projectiles. He fired his plasma rifle in five-round bursts. Another Elite fell to the ground. One tried to use his weapon like a club, but watched in horror as he missed and felt his spine break from the spinning heel kick that followed.
The two remaining Elites primed plasma grenades, and started to throw them. Unexpectedly, the Arbiter appeared and broke both of their necks. He sent the grenades through the air towards another group of Elites, who were killed instantly.
“Thanks,” the Master Chief said.
“It was nothing,” the Arbiter replied. “They deserved it for shedding the blood of my brothers.”
Suddenly, a black armored Spec-Ops Elite appeared behind the Arbiter. He was holding an energy sword, getting ready to skewer his target.
“Look out!” cried Master Chief.
He jumped toward the Arbiter, knocking him out of the way. The Elite’s energy sword shot forward and pierced the Master Chief’s shield, going right into his hip. Incredible pain shot through his body as the sword cut through the armor, gel layer, and sliced the skin and muscles.
The Chief fired his rifle wildly, landing enough lucky shots to kill the Elite’s shields. He was still alive as the Master Chief and the Arbiter landed in a heap. The Elite charged forward, swinging his sword, ready for the kill.
Too late. Sergeant Johnson had already fired his beam rifle, severing the Elite’s neck.
“Master Chief!”
The Master Chief looked at the wound. His right hip had been sliced right open. Hydrostatic gel mixed with his blood oozed out of the gash in the armor. He looked up to see that Sergeant Johnson, the Arbiter, and Commander Keyes were looking at him. A group of Enforcers were shielding them.
“Master Chief, we have to get you out of here,” Keyes said.
“I’m okay. It’s no big deal,” he replied, wincing in pain.
“I don’t think so. We’re getting you out of here now,” she said sternly. “Johnson!”
“Already done,” he replied. “C’mon big guy. Help me out here.”
Sergeant Johnson and the Arbiter grabbed the the Master Chief and carried him out of the Control Room.
“Put me down!” the Master Chief yelled angrily. “We have a battle to win!”
“Don’t sweat it. 50 platoons of Marines will be here shortly. I radioed ahead before coming down here,” Johnson said.
The Master Chief sighed and gave up. There was no use arguing.
At least Truth is out of the picture, he thought.
He knew the fight ith the covenant was over, he ralexed and felt very tired and worn out. His vision darkened and he soon slipped into unconsciousness.
Chapter 14
He was back on the battlefield. Bodies fell, blood was everywhere. He watched in terror as the Prophet of Truth lowered the Unity towards the terminal. He raised his battle rifle to shoot, but the rifle wouldn’t fire. It was rapidly melting. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Elite that was shooting its plasma rifle, destroying the Master Chief’s rifle. He dropped the ruined gun and started to run towards the Prophet. The Prophet placed the Unity into the terminal, and a curtain of white light enveloped all of reality…
The Master Chief woke up abruptly, cold sweat on his face. He was in a small, well lit room. Monitors on the wall displayed heart rate, blood sugar, oxygen level, brain activity, etc. An IV was in his arm.
A door to his right opened up and a doctor wearing a white lab coat walked in.
“I see that you’ve finally woken up,” he said happily.
“Where am I?” the Master Chief asked.
“You are on the medical frigate Saratoga. It has the best medical equipment and staff available. Good thing to,” the doctor said as-a-matter-of-factly. “That was a pretty nasty wound you had. It took a day to re-grow the missing part of your pelvis, six hours to laser stitch your muscles, and fourteen hours of intensive care to keep you out of shock. You’ve been out for a total of three days since the surgery ended.”
“What!” the Master Chief yelled, jumping out of the bed. The IV rack was knocked to the floor, and the bag of blood plasma gushed out its contents all over the floor. “What about the battle?”
“I wouldn’t know,” the doctor replied with a nervous smile. “I wasn’t told anything except that you needed immediate medical attention.”
The Master Chief was now very upset.
“Where’s my armor?” he demanded.
“It is in engineering, getting repaired and upgraded.”
“What about Sergeant Johnson and Commander Keyes?”
“On the bridge, sir.”
“And the Covenant?”
“They fled the system eight hours after you were brought here,” the doctor said with glee.
The Master Chief breathed a sigh of relief. They had won the battle against the Covenant. The fourth complete victory against the Covenant since the war began. And with all of their prophets gone, things would be in favor of humankind.
“I need to go to the bridge,” the Master Chief said. “Can you have somebody bring up my armor?”
“S-sure, Master Chief,” the doctor replied. He keyed the ship’s comm. “I need the Master Chief’s armor up in medical bay fourteen ASAP.”
“It’ll be up in three minutes,” a voice replied.
Fifteen minutes later, the Master Chief walked into the ship’s bridge, once again fully clad in his armor. Commander Keyes, Sergeant Johnson, and the Arbiter were all in front of the main view screen, assessing the damage report.
He flinched at what he saw. Out of the three hundred UNSC ships that had been fighting, only thirty-two of them remained intact, and eighteen of them needed complete refitting of their engines, reactors, weapons, and armor. One hundred and fifty-six out of the five hundred Super MAC orbital platforms had been reduced to molten slag, and the death toll ranged in the tens of millions.
“Master Chief!” Johnson yelled out. “Didn’t think that you’d be up and about so soon.”
“I have recovered fully, so there is no reason for me to stay in a bed.”
“Good news, considering that you are required for another mission in two hours,” said Commander Keyes. “You are being sent to engage the Covenant fleet currently fleeing from the system. The Arbiter will accompany you.”
The Master Chief looked out of the ship’s view port and into the vast vacuum of space. The war wasn’t over, but now the Covenant would be on the defensive side. Now it was time to bring the fight to them.
“Master Chief.”
He turned to see the Arbiter, with his hand extended.
“I believe that it is customary on your planet to “shake hands,” as a symbol of friendship and mutual respect,” he stated.
The Master Chief looked down at the hand and looked back up. Although his helmet didn’t reveal it, he smiled. He grasped the Arbiter’s hand with his own, and gave a hearty shake.
“Think we can end this war without shedding more blood than necessary?” the Master Chief asked. “Now that the lies of your prophets have been silenced?”
The Arbiter looked troubled at the question, but he answered without hesitation.
“Much blood will be shed in order to end this war. The Brutes must pay for their treason, and even the Elites will not be so eager to believe that the Prophets lied.”
“Are you two ready?” Johnson interjected.
“Yes, we’re ready. Let’s finish this war.”
| | | 27 Aug 2006 11:43 pm |
KAGRENAC117 Guest | Enjoy and plz leave a reply if you like the story! 
| | | 27 Aug 2006 11:45 pm |
UBER 1337 Poster Rep: 2  Joined: 14 Jun 2005 Posts: 2,480 OFFLINE | I like it. have you posted this at www.fanfiction.net
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I am the Chaos Spartan
0wn3d
I coined the following underlined terms: MVC and [/sarcasm] | | | 28 Aug 2006 12:07 am |
UBER 1337 Poster Rep: 10  Joined: 09 Aug 2005 Posts: 2,510 OFFLINE | Another good Halo story...
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I’m determined to live forever, or die trying. - Yossarian
 | | | 28 Aug 2006 01:50 am |
strychnine in the guacamole Rep: 44 Joined: 06 Jan 2006 Posts: 15,283 OFFLINE | You lost me riiiiight about the part where the covenant started speaking English...Which was right before the story started. Since when is English the universal language? Hahaha
No Seriously, I’ll try and read it tomorrow
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Dante666 wrote:
If Xtrm ever left this site it would leave a huge gaping hole in it...keep up the good work dude!
| | | 28 Aug 2006 07:45 am |
KAGRENAC117 Guest | Sorry but that link did not work.
And yes i have posted this on fanfiction already, it’s been on fanfiction for a while now.
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