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 Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2008 8:24 pm
Mendez moved himself away from the bustle of the crowd and removed his helmet. On it, there were multiple new scratches, which he immediately buffed out. It was against regs, but no one had questioned him before. He pulled out a can of red paint and sprayed it on his helmet, creating a perfectly straight line across the black and making it look like a tribal war design. The template was burned into his mind, so creating it was easy. In the end, it looked sinister and combined with his armor detailing, it created an overall dark design around him. Mendez didn't like what was going on around him, so he decided to block it out with metal. His helmet over his head, a band called Limp Bizkit began playing a song that portrayed his life. This was some OLD stuff, as in 21st century metal. "It's just one of those days, when you don't want to wake up. Everything is ********, and everyone sucks!"
A confused marine eased over to the Captain and tapped him on the shoulder. "Sir, is everything all right?"
"Never better. What kind of a question is that?"
"You just were...bobbing your head and all, i'm not used to seeing that in an ODST. It's usually the somber stillness."
"It's just Metal, Marine. Carry on."
"Sir. Mind if I listen in?"
"Not at all." Mendez hooked the wire to his external speakers and took off his helmet, which he placed on the floor beside him. It was an odd sight, a Captain and a Private both sitting down, facing a helmet that was playing highly outdated music.
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 8:52 am
Jon heard some music and walked over to Mendez and th Private. "Mind if I listen too sir? It's been a while since I heard some nice music like that."
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 11:02 am
being pulled out of his thoughts by music robert looked up and all at once the scene returned to his focus, but only for a second
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Posted: Sun Oct 19, 2008 11:33 am
((No more bloody one-liners. A paragraph minimum is required here. A paragraph is 3 to 5 complete sentences.)) HALO
FULL CIRCLE
The Shadow of Intent cut through the void of space, leaving four behind. Three were of flesh and blood, the other a crystal matrix and light. Yet they would change the fate of all life in the Galaxy. Their task had not yet begun. As the damaged Pelican made its way slowly towards the interior of the new ring, it began to lose altitude. The pilot, an armored super soldier who had personally slain thousands of alien combatants sat confidently in the pilots seat. Beside him stood another warrior, this one though was not human. He wore a proud, yet humbled face. His eyes were grim, for there was a good chance they would not live through this. A bright light illuminated the both of them. Cortana. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she was free. Free from the clutches of the Gravemind. While it had only been a few days, her time spent within his grasp was enough to break a normal mind. But she was special. She glanced at the Spartan knowingly. Though the act of her movement was simply for the benefit of those present. She saw and heard and felt through the hull of the falling Pelican. She was after all, merely a program.
The Spartan did his best to keep the wounded bird aloft, but it was a lost cause. His mind was adrift with thoughts. While the chiefest thought was to keep them from being smashed against the cliffs, he couldn't help but remember the first time he had set foot on one of the rings. On Halo. The descent from the Pillar of Autumn, the lifeboat ablaze in the ring's atmosphere, the jarring impact of the crash, and the loss of human life within the pod. When he had emerged from the wreckage, there was enough ammunition scattered about to keep him well armed, though only with the basics. At first he didn't care where he was. His mission was to ensure the survival of both Cortana and the human race. But as time progressed on that first ring, he began to take notice of the environment, to watch things as he passed by. The cold canyon that held the Control Room, the lifeless plateau that sat below the Truth and Reconciliation, the desolation that surrounded the crashed Autumn. And now he was back. The canyon was similar to that of the first Halo. Not identical but close enough that there could be no mistaking it. Halo, Installation 04. It had been rebuilt, and with it a wave of memories he did not care for.
The Arbiter too was caught in reminiscence. It had only been days earlier when he had stood in shame before the Council and pleaded his case. Beyond the walls of the once hallowed High Charity, the remnants of the first ring, the one this Spartan had destroyed, continued to spin and fracture. His memories were not of the first ring, but of the second. Where they had first encountered this Gravemind. He remembered Tartarus' betrayal. He remembered his fall into darkness, and he remembered the foul stench of the Gravemind's lair. The Spartan had hurt it when he destroyed High Charity, yet the battle was far from won.
The trio remembered their initial encounters with the ancient rings. They could not help remembering the simplicity of the conflicts then. Before the Flood. Before the Ark. Now, the Prophet of Truth was dead, the Covenant was finished. All that remained was the Flood; and the Gravemind had thoughtfully brought itself to the Ark. This ring was the key. The Pelican floundered in the air before plowing into a sizable snow drift. Far above, the frigate Forward Unto Dawn gracefully entered the ring's atmosphere and drifted to a safe location, far enough from the Control Room not to warrant contamination by the flood but close enough for Johnson to join them.
Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan 117 climbed from the wreckage of the Pelican and examined the stark surroundings. They were in a frozen canyon, one that resembled the first Halo with an eerie exactness. He stood his ground and continued to take in the environment. His armor stuck out like a sore thumb. Halo. It's so new... unfinished. I'm not exactly sure what will happen when we fire it.Cortana. It was good to have her back again. It was strange at first, but he had come to miss her constant direction and advice. The Chief was not stupid, and he was more capable than most in combat, Cortana was the most intimate friend he had. She shared part of his mind for memory storage. The first training drills on Reach, and the events on Halo had made him appreciate her all the more. She had almost died in the clutches of the Gravemind. Almost been consumed by the Flood. And now, she would help him end it. The Chief turned to the Arbiter, who tossed him his MA5C-ICWS rifle. He readied the weapon and turned back to the road ahead.
"We head for the portal. And we'll all go home."
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Posted: Tue Oct 21, 2008 6:03 pm
“Go!”
The word was a two letter symbol of haste, a reminder of what had been put into motion, and a warning of what was to come. It was a minuscule euphemism for what was really happening, as if the very word itself had triggered the end of the world, the destruction of the galaxy, and the destitution of the universe. And there at the end of it all sat one man in his green clad armor, a monument to all of the human race, and a construct who gambled the fate of the human race on one man’s actions, depending on flesh and blood and data and algorithm to work cohesively against a common enemy. Synthetics and Organics against a parasite; could it have been anymore beautiful any other way? And like the Forerunner their extinction would come swiftly, executing them in the cruelest of manners for the noblest of reasons. The Halo Rings would ignite and light the galaxy in a pantheon of destruction, it’s power like that of a million suns flowing in a consistent path. Silence and peace would fall over the stars for the first time in 50,000 years, for the time since the extinction of the Forerunners, and the first firing of the Halo array. Cities and entire civilizations would cease to exist, completely obliterated in a wave of death; the fire and brimstone would come hither. It was an apocalypse not so different from the one the Forerunners had faced, and wholeheartedly accepted.
The flood had turned the synthetics against the organics and one by one entire systems began to become infected. The parasite was a relentless force that seemed unstoppable and nearly indestructible, and in an attempt to defeat it a Construct was constructed, meant to serve in battle in the Forerunner’s stead. Slowly the forces of the flood we being pushed back, until the Gravemind unleashed itself; it began to take over infecting the Construct’s mind with thoughts of impure origin and conclusions of deep fallacy, turning the Forerunner’s last thread of hope in their finite existence against them. Mendicant Bias was defeat at a great price and the wrath of the Gravemind and it’s flood made it’s mark in time.
But they had left the galaxy with an heir to their prestige, leaving them with the keys to city. The humans, who had only begun to expand their species beyond one sole world of existence, had been left with the fate of the galaxy unknowingly upon their shoulders. They were attacked by the Covenant, and when pushed back, left to fight two relentless and merciless enemies: The Covenant and the Flood. The war had begun on a planet of harvest, and the beginning of the end would begin where the Forerunner’s had left off: Earth.
When approached by the monitor of the installation the man had been all too willing to listen to the sentient hunk of floating metal, knowing of it’s practical programming. The monitor had been acting very curiously, moving about to assess the Commander and his suit of armor more so than the situation at hand. The Flood had indeed taken over the facility, and as the Monitor said, it needed an immediate purge. But it no longer concerned Michael or the artificial intelligence that housed herself in his mind, seeing what he saw and knowing what he knew. They had done what needed to be done, and now they needed to get off the Installation, and get back home.
One large hand reached forward among these thoughts and grasped the steering controls, the fingers gripping it tightly while another hand pushed the throttle of the craft forward, two dual engines roaring to life, propelling the behemoth forward and out of the canyon. The hand pulled back on the controls, lifting the aircraft up into the atmosphere. The man to whom the large hands belonged to sat in the pilot’s seat of a C709 Longsword-class Interceptor, his green clad armor hardly fitting in the curved seat, the harness stretched tightly across his chest and shoulders. The fighter craft began to groan inaudibly as they ascended into the sky.
Hammer sat there with his eyes trained straight ahead and his mind baring on the future. His entire body felt heavier than all hell, as if an invisible force had grabbed a hold of him and was trying to pull him though his seat, through the longsword, and down to Installation 00 where the Flood and a sure death awaited him. The godly figure gripped the steering console tighter as if resisting the invisible force, and reflected in his golden visor was the portal back to Earth, the in which the Shadow of Intent had flown through. With his lips pressed tightly into a pale thing line he stared forward at the only way back to Earth, his eyes full of suffering. The man was silent, making his presence all the more ominous and disturbing, as if he was a resemblance of all those who had fallen before him.
Angel, however was stuck in his mind, sorting through everything that had happened; there had been so much death and destitution, it bewildered her. Betrayal seemed to one of the programmed responses of the Monitors (which had been displayed in the facilities upon Installation 00); with little thought, she guessed the Monitor’s actions could have been the product of the Gravemind’s lies and deceptions. She had become silent while deciphering these thoughts and the events unfolded before them top-side. So many people had been slaughtered, and all at the hands of the very things which had sworn to protect and keep the Forerunner’s legacy. An entire battalion of Marines wiped out in mere seconds and the only one with any chance of survival running, counting down the seconds until the destruction that would ensue. A shiver, or what was translated as a shiver to her processors, ran up Angel’s virtual spine. She had used one man, one sad, depressed, angry, vengeful, focused Spartan to keep her alive while she sacrificed the Marines. Michael broke the silence between the two of them.
“Was it worth it, Angel?”
“We did what we could, and you did what needed to be done. No one can ask for anything more, Michael.”
“All those men and women… They won’t be coming home.”
Angel listened to the super soldier, and even if she could have looked at the somber man, she wouldn’t have taken the opportunity. She was sure that whatever she saw would make her go crazy, rampant. The emotion lingering in his voice was much more than she had anticipated, making her flinch away.
“No honey, they won’t.”
The two of them spoke very softly as if speaking any louder would shatter the universe into millions and billions of shards. Angel didn’t realize how much the Commander had been affected by the events on the Ark; the war had marked the man. Deep in her processor core she felt a ping of sorrow for the man as he spoke.
“Let’s go home.”
With those last words the Longsword-class Interceptor flew towards the portal with a determined warrior and a conscious Construct aboard. No other ships were left to go through the Portal and leave the Ark and the fight behind, other then the UNSC Frigate Forward Unto Dawn. The end was approaching quicker than ever before, the universe standing in silence with their eyes upon three heroes, three beings working together for the greater good. The fight was almost over, almost finished.
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Posted: Tue Oct 21, 2008 11:02 pm
HALO
ASSAULT ON THE CONTROL ROOM The two figures started forward into the drifts of ankle-deep snow, unsure of which direction to take.
Head through the cliffs.
Cortana's advice was, as always, invaluable. An opening in the wall of stone appeared through the falling powder. Icicles that seemed to have always been there clung to the roof of the natural cave. The wind, what little there was, howled through the cave, adding a wild under tone to the setting. An unwanted sense of being watched. The path forked multiple times. One break in the path led to a dead end, a section of the tunnels that had been blocked by boulders. Another path lead to a gaping maw in the stone. Cold metal cut through the rock, giving the impression of an open wound. The alien metal was the skeleton while the stone was the tissue that clung hopelessly to it. Halo was unfinished, its interior laid bare before all the world. There was a small drop in the path ahead, except the Spartan did not choose to follow that path just yet. Something called to him.
The Control Room isn't far. Cortana stated, perhaps in an attempt to ease the Chief's nominal apprehension.
The Spartan turned to the right and followed a jagged gash in the stone until he found himself in a small yet hollowed out corridor. Below him were enormous beams bound tightly together by forces he could not comprehend. A honey-comb lattice of support that made up the ring's infrastructure. It was solid here, solid enough to support several scorpion tanks. This was not what called to him though. It was something else, something elusive. A memory.
Where are you going? Cortana demanded.
Spartan 117 ignored her and pressed on. Soon he found himself in a passageway that extended into darkness one way and to what seemed to be a dead end the other way. There were luminescent arrows on the ground pointing toward the dead end. He followed them, trying to remember what exactly was so familiar about this place. When he reached the dead end, he turned right. A terminal, like the six others he had found on the Ark. Each held clues about the history of the Forerunner and the Flood. He had made a personal goal in finding these archives of ancient knowledge and downloading as much information as he could. It was in the hopes of offering something to Cortana when they were finally reunited, and his own interest had been sparked through the mention of Earth in some of the early logs. Things had been revealed, disturbing things; things that had drastically altered his opinion of the situation. He now knew just how deadly the Flood was, and just how badly they needed to stop it.
Wait... what's that? Cortana asked.
He accessed this terminal as he had the others, and downloaded all of its information. Yet this one was different. There was a message at the end. Directed at him. He recorded it and stored what he could in his suit's memory. Then he turned to leave. Something caught his eye though, something more familiar than the terminals. It was then that he realized where he was. He was standing in one of the pulse generator chambers. It had only been a short time ago that he had been disabling the generators of the first Halo ring.
How many of those have you found?
Cortana regarded the terminal briefly, then decided that it wasn't worth the effort at the moment.
Come on, Chief, let's get back on track. The Control Room is outside.
The Spartan turned and left the pulse generator chamber. When he emerged into the snow, the Arbiter stood waiting for him. Neither figure spoke, for there was nothing to say. The climb down was easy. Just a simple matter of dropping down from beam to beam. The ice complicated matters slightly, but not in a noticeable way. When the pair reached the base of the cliff, they were momentarily blinded by the artificial light. When their vision adapted, they realised just how similar things were. The Control Room stood before them. The massive ziggurat was almost exactly as the Spartan remembered it. The winding path up to the summit, the massive spire extending from the top, and a sense of quiet power. His thoughts were quickly dragged from his retrospective by the impacts of half a dozen pods. DID YOU THINK ME DEFEATED?Flood Dispersal Pods! The Control Room's at the top of that tower Chief; go!
The Spartan and the Arbiter instantly set into an all out run. They needed to get to the top of the structure. The Flood wouldn't stand in their way. The shambling corpses of the corrupted swarmed toward them on all sides. Guns blazing, the duo cut a path through the shattered bodies of both fallen comrades and enemies alike. The Spartan did not feel as he squeezed the trigger on his rifle. The creatures he killed were already dead, or suffering a fate far worse than death itself. The Arbiter too remained detached from the unfortunate business of killing those who he might have known at one point in time. Together they made their way up the side of the structure and onto the first level. As they fought to the opposite side of the tower, one of the massive flood forms appeared. It pushed the others aside as it came in for the killing blow. The Arbiter readied his blade, but there was no need. The creature let out a foul cry and fell beneath a crimson beam.
"I got you covered Chief. See you at the top of the tower."
Johnson was watching from above. W/AV M6 G/GNR held carefully and deliberately. He fired the laser at any target large enough to incur his wrath. As the Spartan and the Elite made their way up the tower on a carpet of fallen bodies, Sergeant Major Avery Junior Johnson continued his reign of terror with the nonlinear rifle.
"Keep moving, Chief. I've got your back."
The ascent was a nightmare, but the summit was a living hell. Shattered corpses lined the newly created walkways and barriers while the Arbiter and the Master Chief battled against an innumerable enemy. The Chief ducked under the arm of a flailing combat form before perforating its body with automatic fire. The annihilated form fell limp to the ground as the Arbiter made short work of the flood with his blade. Sergeant Major Johnson did his part with the laser, but his shots were few and far between, not numerous enough to keep the flood at bay.
"Spark? You in there? Open the damn door!"
"Of course, Reclaimer. As soon as you dispose of all proximate Flood threats. I'm afraid that containment protocols do not allow..."
"Yeah, yeah, I hear you!"
Was that the Monitor? You didn't tell me he was here. Well, we are finally doing what he wanted.
The Flood seemed to increase in number. Every downed combat form seemed to spawn two more. To make matters worse, the Flood were beginning to bring more powerful weapons into the fray. The Chief had already downed several flood forms wielding rocket launchers. He had taken their weapons without a second thought and used them against the oncoming tide of reanimated corpses. Bodiless limbs littered the summit of the Control Room tower. The battle continued to grow in intensity until the Installation's security systems were brought to bare.I HAVE BEATEN FLEETS OF THOUSANDS! CONSUMED A GALAXY OF FLESH AND MIND AND BONE!With the aide of the Sentinels, the Arbiter, Chief, and Johnson were able to push the Flood off the tower and hold the summit until Guilty Spark deemed it safe to proceed.
"Open up! The coast is clear."
Not for long. I'm tracking additional Dispersal Pods. They'll be hitting any minute!
"Chief! Arbiter! Let's move!"
The trio moved inside the massive structure as the mammoth doors parted. The Spartan was struck with another wave of nausea-inducing nostalgia. The last time he had been in halls such as these, he was fighting to stop the firing of Halo. For the Arbiter, it was to defeat Tartarus. For Johnson, well, he had a Commanding Officer to save.DO I TAKE LIFE OR GIVE IT? WHO IS VICTIM? AND WHO IS FOE?It's trying to rebuild itself on this ring!
The armored figures moved through the shadowy corridors toward the control room for the most powerful weapon in the galaxy. They were too close to be denied.
"Hurry! Control Room's close!"
The trio neared the final portal. The last doorway that separated them from the last step in their journey. With the rumble of heavy machinery, the doors began to part.
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Posted: Wed Oct 22, 2008 5:38 pm
Devin walked down the hall on the Shadow of Intent, surveying the area and stopping every so often next to a wounded
marine to make sure that they were being properly cared for. They
were suffering greatly, but they were brave and held back most of the
pain inside them as they celebrated their victory against the Covenant.
It had seemed that they won, and Devin couldn't hold back the
victorious and proud grin on her face as a marine had come up and shaken
her hand. This particular marine seemed far more cheerful about their victory then most as they galloped back and forth down the corridor
of the ship. He'd almost tripped over a wounded marine's broken leg
and would have gone crashing into the cold, hard floor if Devin
hadn't reached out and grabbed him by the back of his shirt. She let him
go just as soon as he had regained his balance and looked him in the eyes
with a slight grin on her face.
"Wars over, Marine." Devin raised an eyebrow
at him and released her grip while a few marines laughed after seeing
the embarrassed look upon the younger marine's face. She payed them no mind and resumed her walk down the ship. Cold air hit her face from the breeze that wasn't there and it startled her a bit, but just as suddenly as it had, Devin felt a slight nudge on her shoulder, a friendly one. This made her smile grow warmer and she found that she wasn't feeling
so solemn as she stopped to rest her back against a wall.
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Posted: Wed Oct 22, 2008 7:25 pm
continuing his walk robert seemed nonexistent. he thought to himself. "well i didnt do anything i tended to wounded marines became a medic went to arc late enough to be on time to give medical atention then leave, possibly, and now he walked aimlessly was it realy worth finaly joining the marines he fought beside at old mombasa or should he have just let the marines alone." "i realy have to think things through before i do them." then out loud he said "heh so smart yet i didnt see this coming." back in his thoughts "and now im a solid weardo."
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Posted: Sat Nov 01, 2008 1:24 pm
HALO
GREATEST JOURNEY The Arbiter stayed back to guard the door as the Master Chief and Johnson entered the immediately familiar Control Room. The Spartan had been in a nearly identical room once before. The return brought a minor chill to his spine as Cortana spoke.
Yank me Chief.
The Spartan pulled Cortana's computer chip out of his helmet and stared at it for a moment. Remembering the last time she was placed into Halo's mainframe. Not to mention what had happened when they were last separated.
"I'm not gonna lose her too."
The Spartan tossed the chip to Sergeant Major Johnson and watched him proceed before turning back to his duty of guarding the Control Room. The Sergeant Major walked towards the console located on the inner ring of the Control Room's catwalk. As he approached a familiar blue sphere floated humming, from above.
"Oh, hello! Wonderful news - the Installation is almost complete!"
"Terrific."
"Yes... isn't it?"
The two finally reached the console and the monitor spoke once more.
"I have begun my simulations. No promises, but initial results indicate that this facility should be ready to fire in just a few more days."
"We don't have a few more days!"
The Monitor stopped in mid air and sputtered for a moment, as if unsure of how to proceed.
"Bu-bu-but a premature firing will destroy the Ark!"
"Deal with it."
"...Will destroy this Installation..."
The floating sphere stopped glowing blue and took a warm red hue. Without hesitation the sphere fired an extremely powerful beam of directed energy into the chest of the unfortunate Sergeant.
"Unacceptable! Unacceptable! Absolutely unacceptable!"
The Spartan turned at the sound of Johnson's scream and flung himself into a sprint toward the fallen marine. He was stopped short by Guilty Spark's energy beam. His shield's were drained completely and he collapsed to the floor. The Arbiter turned to help before he too was cut down by the crazed artificial intelligence.
"Protocol dictates action! I see now that helping you was wrong!"
The Spartan attempted to rise before he was bombarded by Spark's laser once again. With no shielding to protect him, his armor took the damage directly. The material burned and began to smoke before he fell to his knees.
"You are the child of my makers. Inheritor of all they left behind. You are Forerunner! But this ring... is mine!
The Spartan rose to his feet as his shielding was finally able to recharge. The floating sphere emitted a large pulse of energy and knocked the human warrior to the edge of the catwalk. The Spartan lost his footing and tumbled to the ground. He clung to the edge for dear life and struggled to climb back up.
"I take no pleasure in doing what must be done."
The Spartan was able to claw his way back to the catwalk and climb to his feet. Once he was on his own two feet, he readied the MA5C-ICWS assault rifle and unloaded an entire clip into the Monitor's frame. The rounds did nothing, merely bouncing off of his hardened armor plating.
"You do not deserve this ring! I have kept it safe. It belongs to me!
The Master Chief loaded another magazine of ammunition into his weapon and waited for Spark's next move. He dodge the energy beam and kept Spark's full attention. The crazed Monitor commanded all of his attention as well. When suddenly a burst of red filled the room and the Monitor was knocked out of the air.
"Not for long."
The Spartan rushed to the fallen Sergeant and crouched beside him. The man looked up at the armored figure and strained to hold himself up. Before he collapsed, he passed his W/AV M6 G/GNR to the armor-clad soldier.
"Kick his a**..."
With those words he collapsed once more. The Monitor rose from the depths of the Control Room. Furious and slightly unhinged, the floating bulb forgot to aim at the Spartan and simply fired his weapon in the Master Chief's direction. The Spartan was quick enough to be able to dodge most of the blasts with just a scratch and to completely evade the others. The Spartan took careful aim and fired the nonlinear rifle directly into Guilty Spark's eye. The orb sputtered and was knocked back a few feet. It corrected its angle and floated back towards the Chief, albeit flying with a slant and leaking plasma from the sides.
"Damn it! Damn it! That hurt Reclaimer!"
The Spartan didn't allow Spark to Continue, as soon as the floating bulb came in range, the Chief fired another blast from the weapon, knocking Spark out of the air. The Monitor rose again, as if defying both the Master Chief and death itself.
"Think of you-ou-ou-our forerunner!"
The little robot had taken extensive damage and was bleeding plasma at an alarming rate. Its casing was distorted in a number of areas and its eye was cracked. The Monitor fired a sudden burst at the Spartan and knocked him off his feet. The orb drew closer, preparing to finish off the Spartan. The Master Chief fired once more at point-blank range, knocking the Monitor out of the air and causing it to land on the catwalk nearby. The Spartan used the G/GNR as a crutch to help himself to his feet before walking over to the Monitor and grabbing its now fractured casing. Spark's voice was shrill and highly deteriorated. This was the end.
"I a-a-a-am the Monitor of Installation Z-Ze-ro F-Four!"
The Master Chief looked at the Monitor, held him with his left hand, and drew back his right fist. He unleashed a tremendous punch to the Monitor's eye, shattering the alien material and exposing internal circuitry. He dropped the sphere and pinned it with one foot. Before giving it a chance to escape he fired the G/GNR at the exposed interior at point-blank range. The Monitor's internal components were reduced to melted scrap by the combined power of the weapon and its internal power source rupturing. The Spartan punted the Monitor's corpse away before it could do any damage, and with a blinding flash, Spark was gone. He turned to the fallen Sergeant and returned to his side. He knelt next to the wounded man and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm getting you out of here."
With a cough and slight hesitation, as if summoning up the will to continue, the Sergeant spoke.
"No... No you're not."
Johnson grasped the Chief's right hand with his own and returned Cortana's chip to the armored super-soldier.
"Don't - don't let her go. Don't... ever let her go.
The Sergeant coughed and realised that his mouth tasted like iron.
"Send me out... with a bang."
With that final wish, Avery Junior Johnson succumbed to his wounds, and became the final Marine casualty in humanity's war for survival. While his armor did not move, the Master Chief shuddered from the loss. He knew to push it aside and grieve at a later time, but of all the people he had known, his fellow Spartans, Dr. Halsey, The Marines, Johnson was the only one he could truly call a friend. After a deep breath, he let go of the dead man's hand and rose to his feet. He walked to the core, and held the data chip close enough for Cortana to transfer herself into the central computer, but he never let go of the chip. Her image appeared and she looked up at the silent man with a look of sorrow on her holographic face.
"Chief... I'm so sorry."
As always, the Spartan said nothing. He motioned with his hand for Cortana to complete the task at hand. She bowed her head, eyes closed, and gestured with her hand. There was the sound of a lock being opened, or something similar, and she transferred herself back to the chip. The Master Chief turned and placed Cortana's chip in the back of his helmet and turned to face the door. He composed himself as a beam of brilliant light shot forth from the unfathomable depths below. The Core was activated, and Halo set to fire. The Monitor's prediction was correct, the ring was not ready to fire, and the Control Room began to shake itself apart. Large chunks of the ceiling began to fall apart, crashing down onto the platform below, jarring it from its anchors on the side of the chamber. The platform slanted and Johnson's body slid into the darkness below. As soon as the first tremor shook the Control Room the Master Chief was on his way to the door; Halo collapsing all around him.
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Posted: Tue Nov 04, 2008 10:12 pm
HALO
THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS The Spartan lunged through the doors just as they closed. He skidded to a halt and composed himself before hefting his assault rifle and looking to the Arbiter, who had recovered from Spark's earlier attack.
"I am sorry, Spartan. But come."
The Arbiter opened the doors they had come through, and they were greeted by a group of elite combat forms and a baker's dozen of infection forms. The Flood were relentless, and this was what they were fighting for. The war against the Flood was won, there was no way to stop Halo from firing now. All the Arbiter and the Chief had to do was escape its pulse, though in the long run, it would not matter if they survived.
The combat forms fell quickly, cut down under a hail of 7.62x51mm Full Metal Jacket rounds. The Arbiter held his plasma rifle and used his blade when they came too close. The battle was quickly won, the path was clear. The duo made their way to the Control Room's entrance, pursued by a series of explosions triggered by the Control Room's collapse. The "sunlight" was blinding, but they adapted. A pair of Sentinels flew past the gaping maw of the entrance and engaged an unseen group of Flood.
"Even in death, your Sergeant guides us all."
The Dawn. Of course - The Frigate! We still have a chance! Find the doorway in the cliffs, Chief. the Dawn is on the other side.
The Spartan glanced about, searching for the mentioned door, he saw something promising in the cliffs off to his right. He turned and vaulted up a collapsed snow bank to the cliff ledge where Johnson had covered them in the initial Assault on the Control Room. His ascent was met with hostile fire coming from a cluster of Flood forms. He emptied his clip into the decayed corpses and cut them down. With that obstacle out of the way he and the Arbiter continued their ascent to the cliffs. They met heavy resistance. Small pockets of flood coupled with Sentinels attempting to purge the location. After a brief, but harrowing battle against Flood forms more determined than either of them had ever seen before, they entered the doorway. The chamber housed another of Halo's pulse generators. The Master Chief ignored another wave of nostalgia as he and the Arbiter were drawn into a particularly gruesome battle between sentinels and the Flood. When both sides were diminished, the Chief and the Arbiter mopped up what was left. As they rounded the corner, the Gravemind spoke.RESIGNATION IS MY VIRTUE. LIKE WATER I EBB AND FLOW. DEFEAT IS SIMPLY THE ADDITION OF TIME TO A SENTENCE I NEVER DESERVED... BUT YOU IMPOSED.The Spartan pressed forward into a familiar hallway, that turned out to be crawling with carrier forms. A few well placed grenades, courtesy of the Flood, worked wonders in clearing a path.
Don't let this ring be the end of us, Chief.
The Master Chief and the Arbiter pressed on, until they found themselves engulfed in a veritable sea of infection forms. The Elite warrior cut through them with ease, while the Spartan took a less elegant approach. When they killed the last of the pus-bags, they emerged in a small yet snow-filled canyon.
There! Johnson's Warthog.
The Master Chief jumped behind the wheel while the Arbiter mounted the M12 LRV's gun. He readied the weapon and braced himself while the Chief gunned the engine.
Come on, Spartan - go, go, go!
The Warthog rounded the crest of a hill and accelerated quickly as a section of ground the size of inner New Mombasa evaporated in a maelstrom of fire. The Chief hit the emergency brake and put the Warthog into a sliding turn to avoid the large chasm that had just appeared. The Warthog's engine roared as the vehicle shot up another hill and left all semblance of natural ground behind. Stretched out before them was the unfinished bulk of Halo. Mere panels that would have, at one time, been the support for Halo's earth-like terrain were all made up their path to the Frigate. A series of explosions ripped through the fragile panels, sending a series of them cascading into Halo's unfinished superstructure below. Above them the Ark glowed like an exploding star in the crimson haze of Halo's armageddon.
Drive Chief! Head for the Frigate!
The Spartan's foot seemed to force the accelerator pedal further than it was meant to go. He avoided every pitfall, every explosion, every gap as only someone who had driven a similar course could. The Warthog launched off of a ramp and landed in a skidding turn that nearly flipped the vehicle. They were on a large round structure that would take some time to maneuver safely. Unfortunately for them, time was not an option, so the Master Chief simply pushed the gas pedal down harder as the Warthog raced onward. Before them was a veritable army of Flood forms. The Arbiter opened fire with the Chain-gun, not bothering with the targets on either side, he simply needed to clear a path. The vehicle drifted around the corners perfectly, splattering anything and everything that got in its path. The Chief aimed for the end of the roundabout structure and gunned the Warthog off the end. He fell the pit of his stomach drop and braced himself for a hard landing. The Warthog landed roughly, bounced once, landed on two wheels, then righted itself. The Chief didn't even think about what they had just done, he simply focused on driving. The Arbiter was focused on the Sentinels that seemed intent on purging them with the same ferocity the Flood possessed in its attempts to consume them. He wore an expression of determination, or the Elite equivalent and fired away.
The Dawn is close. We can make it! As long as the ground doesn't fall out from beneath us...
The Spartan looked back, careful only to steal a glance, and realised that Cortana was right. The Ground was falling away behind them. He revved the Warthog and aimed for the path of least resistance. They entered a mammoth structure with a series of different paths laid out before them. He chose the middle path and ran through a cluster of Flood forms engaged with Sentinels. Explosions rocked the pathway as debris and supports rained down from above. The Warthog was almost crushed by a girder the length of the Pillar of Autumn and as wide as a Scorpion Tank. The Emergency brake was being used almost as often as the gas pedal, the Master Chief never even considered stepping on the brakes.
The charging sequence - it's too much for the ring to take. Halo is ripping itself apart!
The Master Chief was far too occupied to make a smart remark, though he would have loved to. As they reached the end of the enclosed area, the Master Chief gunned the Warthog off of a jump and executed a perfect landing. The rear wheels touched first and helped to propel the vehicle forward. He swerved to avoid an explosion, as well as gaps created by falling panels. After seconds more of frenzied driving Cortana made an unnerving announcement.
Charging sequence at Thirty-Percent!
They needed to go faster. The Chief pushed the Warthog beyond its safe limits and gunned it down a short ramp. The M12 LRV shot off the ramp and landed on another one of the open roundabout structures. This time, there were Flood pure forms waiting for them in addition to the more common forms. The Chief floored the Warthog and launched it off the roundabout and landed on the panels below. They began to give as the Warthog raced across the surface.
Fifty-Percent Chief!
The Warthog entered another mammoth hallway filled with pathways. Instead of taking the middle or right-hand route, the Master Chief aimed for what appeared to be the path of least resistance, shooting right on through the left. There was a short ramp followed by a brief decline, and then a barricade of carrier forms. The Chief didn't make a sound, but aimed for the largest hole in their lines, one that led directly into a covered passageway. The three ton vehicle blew past the Flood forms, knocking several off the platform and causing several others to explode. The passageway was surprisingly straight and safe. The Chief was able to avoid the struts holding the passageway to the platforms above, and found that the warthog was suddenly travelling downhill. He floored it and braced for what he suspected was coming. The jump was enormous, and non-too-soon. The passage fell away as soon as the Warthog launched off the end. Another series of explosions shook the ring and caused more debris to fly into the air.
Seventy-Percent!
The Forward Unto Dawn could be seen in the distance. They were close. The Chief urged the Warthog on, evading more gaps and explosions. The sky was clouded with debris and Sentinels. Their energy beams sliced through the air and danced along the ground next to the Warthog. The Chief pulled the vehicle into a power-slide and traced the rear wheels along the edge of a gap, then punched it to clear a gap in their way. The panel they were on began to fall as they ramped off of it, though they had enough speed to clear the falling platforms and make a landing a "safe" distance away.
Eighty-Percent charged!
This was the final turn. It had to be. A column the size of a large sky-scraper collapsed and demolished the path ahead of them, forcing the Chief to take the Warthog onto uneven terrain. The ground was really beginning to fall away now, with the collapse right behind them, the Chief aimed for the high ground, in the hopes that they'd be able to land on the lower path if the need arose. He skirted the edge of several gaps while the chatter of the tri-barrel anti-aircraft chain-gun filled his head. The Arbiter was simply annihilating the Sentinels in their way. The burning hulls littered the path ahead, and they made a satisfying crunch as the Warthog sped over them.
Ninety-Percent! Firing sequence initiated!
The Warthog launched off of the upper pathway and narrowly missed falling into the abyss by mere inches. Panels were falling all around them, Halo was dieing. The Chief passed under a rock bridge and turned toward the stern of the Forward Unto Dawn.
Gun it Chief! Jump! Floor it; right into the hanger!
The Warthog hit top speed and rocketed down the ramp caused by collapsing panels. They hit the bottom and launched into the hanger. The Warthog tumbled and rolled as it crashed into the hanger. The Chief and the Arbiter clambered from the wreckage as the Dawn listed to starboard. A Scorpion tank dislodged itself and started to slide toward the Arbiter who dove behind a large pile of crates for cover. The Tank hit the pile with enough force to crush the life from any living thing. The Chief vaulted over the overturned Warthog and looked back to where the Arbiter was. The Elite warrior kicked off a crate and turned to his ally. The Chief nodded and the Arbiter returned the nod. As the Chief turned toward the hanger holotank panel the Arbiter made a dash for the Frigate's bridge. The Chief plugged Cortana's chip into the holotank and she took control of the ship.
"Hang on!"
The Dawn's thrusters hit full burn and the Frigate launched at full speed. The Master Chief grabbed onto the holo terminal to keep himself from falling out the Hanger. The Dawn punched through Halo's outer atmosphere at an increasingly vertical angle. The Warthog that had been their escape vessel slid along the floor before falling toward the Spartan clinging for dear life. The vehicle dislodged the Chief, who fell nearly to the end of the hanger before managing to punch his hand through the grating to secure a hand-hold. Crates and other ordinance fell out of the hanger as Cortana stared at the Chief in a rare moment of panic and reached out toward him.
"CHIEF!"
The Scorpion tank that nearly flattened the Arbiter now turned on the Chief. It rolled and plummeted toward the Spartan, who ducked just in time to avoid losing his head. The Scorpion left the Dawn's hanger and fell back toward the Ark and the active Halo as the Chief clawed his way back to Cortana. The Arbiter made it to the bridge and strapped himself into the Control Seat, as the Spartan sat in front of the holotank and braced himself against it. He removed Cortana and plugged her back into his helmet before allowing himself to relax slightly.
If we don't make it-
"We'll make it."
It's been an honor serving with you John.
The hanger was filled with the brilliant white light of both Halo's explosion and Halo's pulse. As the blinding light filled the hanger, Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan John-117 rested his head against the holotank and closed his eyes.
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Posted: Tue Nov 04, 2008 10:27 pm
EARTH
HOMECOMING Lord Hood, fleet admiral of the United Nations Space Command Defense Force stood upright and tall with his chest out, chin up, and hands behind his back. The aging male wore his best uniform, hoping he would never be in the same position ever again. Campaign ribbons stood out upon his chest in an assortment of colors and designs, and three medals sat side by side in the order upon which they were received. They rested heavily over his heart, weighing him down, anchoring him to the platform on which he so nobly and humbly stood.
"For us the storm has passed - the war is over."
They had all assembled for the memorializing of the land, where the battle had once raged. Marines and Servicemen and women dressed in uniform stood at attention, and among them stood the Elite's harbinger, the Arbiter. He stood in silence, honoring the warriors who had fallen in combat. They died honorably, fighting for their species survival. Lord Hood acknowledged the Arbiter with a brief glance.
"But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling dark, and did not return."
Standing in the back of the procession at attention was a man who symbolized the hope of the human race. Commander Michael Hammer had only a little time to gather his things, still adorned with his MJOLNIR Mark IX Armor and his assault rifle. He had come to honor two servicemen specifically, a marine and an ODST, whom had befriended him, and died. Lord Hood's eyes fell upon the soldier in green clad armor.
"For their decision required courage beyond measure, sacrifice, and an unshakable conviction that their fight - our fight, was elsewhere."
Lord Hood took a slow deliberate breath as a small gust of wind passed through the assembly. The daisies and roses shivered in the wind, standing out against the dark fighter tail that was the monument. It was an object with it's own kind of stark beauty. An orange glow was cast over them all, and it began to take on a life of it's own.
"As we start to rebuild, this hillside will remain barren; a memorial to heroes fallen."
A soft hush moved through every man and women present, and even Angel, who was still in the Commander's head was at a loss for words. One tear lurched down the cheek of a young woman dressed in all black, this widow of the late Captain Martin Flagg. Michael had only noticed her moments before the memorial ceremony had started, and so kept his distance.
"They ennobled all of us, and they shall not be forgotten."
Lord Hood brought his hands from behind his back and slowly placed his cap upon his head, his eyes reflecting all the sadness, all the hate, all the sacrifice of the war. With one moment of hesitation he placed his hand to his brow in a crisp salute. Every man and woman did the same, Hammer included. The Arbiter stood tall and raised his right fist to his chest, the Sangheili salute. One of the survivors of the Ark campaign, Gunnery Sergeant Stacker stood next to a row of Marines at attention.
"Present arms!"
Seven marines with BR55HB-SR Battle Rifles brought their weapons to bare, turned to their right, and aimed to the eastern sky. They each pulled the trigger of their weapon three times, sending off the souls and the procession with a twenty-one gun salute. As the gun shots echoed off into the silence, the symbol that ended a perilous journey. The marines and servicemen and women disbanded, the Commander hopping into his warthog, leaving the Fleet Admiral and the Arbiter at the monument.
The Arbiter began his approached up the ramp, marveling at the monument. Lord Hood stood facing the monument as well, his chiseled face void of any happiness. Photos of Miranda Keyes, and Avery Johnson were taped to the titanium-A armor, and several weapons were leaned against it with the helmet or the hat of a fallen soldier. Captain Michael Brennan, a marine who died on Belfast, sacrificing himself to hold off the Covenant forces. Major William Lipton, who died through the portal on High Charity, fighting the Flood. As the Arbiter eased himself to a halt next to the man, Hood swept his eyes over the memorial.
"I remember how this war started, what your kind did to mine."
The Fleet Admiral shifted his footing while he poured over the pictures and the names of the fallen.
"I can't forgive you. But..."
Lord Hood turned to the Arbiter and extended his right hand to the alien. This gesture was extremely uncommon among the Sangheili, but he reached forward and shook the Humans hand, and the man continued to speak.
"You have my thanks, for standing by him until the end."
Lord Hood and the Arbiter released their grip upon each other, and the human looked towards the ground, his face somber and sad.
"Hard to believe he's dead."
The Arbiter hadn't realized how important one man could be, but now he thought he finally understood. The Master Chief, the demon, was a symbol of hope, a light in the overbearing darkness. The Arbiter had been there at the end, when they were moving through the portal. He had a hunch, a rather strong feeling in his gut that the Spartan was still alive. Looking to the sky and the CSS Shadow of Intent, the Arbiter had a single though. Lord Hood looked up, following the tall Elite's movements as he spoke.
"Were it so easy."
The Arbiter looked at the Fleet Admiral, who in turn looked back with a gaze of confusion, and hope. The Elite was sure that the demon had lived, and with that belief, and new allies, he turned from the man and stepped down the ramp. It was a short walk across cool dirt to his phantom. As the phantom loaded up the Arbiter, it soared out above the land and over the structure that had created the portal to the Ark, heading for the Sangheili flag ship. Lord Hood followed shortly after the elite, stepping onto his Pelican, and took off for the nearest UNSC Base. All that was left after the war had passed, and the memorial stood strong amongst the charred earth and overwhelming mountains, were dust and echoes, old reminders of those who had come and gone.
On board the CSS Shadow of Intent The Ship Master, R'tas Vadum stood with his arms crossed, his mind wandering among matters other than war. Before him was a three dimensional hologram of the planet Earth. It was a beauty unfounded, and he would forever loath the humans for having such a possession. But he coveted his own home world, Sanghelios all the more with every waking moment away. His attention was diverted from the hologram towards the lift, which had just come to a halt and had the Arbiter exiting it's circular pad. Vadum uncrossed his arms and spoke softly.
"Things look different without the Prophet's lies clouding my vision."
R'tas continued to look towards the holographic world as the Arbiter moved to his side.
"I would like to see our home world, to know that it is safe."
R'tas looked up slightly at the Arbiter, his silver armor reflecting the purple hue of the ship's inner structure. The Arbiter placed his right hand upon the Special Operations Commander and nodded his head. The Elite had become his friend, serving under the Arbiter, over him, and as an equal. The soldier's worry was not unprecedented; almost all of the Sangheili felt the same.
"Fear not, for we have made it safe."
The Arbiter nodded his head and turned away, stepping toward the ship commander's chair with authority. As he walked up the platform, and began to take his seat R'tas Vadum raised his right fist to his chest, accepting the warrior's wisdom with the Sangheili salute.
"By your word, Arbiter!"
The Arbiter took his proper seat as the Commander of the Sangheili forces, and turned towards his comrades, those whom controlled the Shadow of Intent. They had turned to look at the idol, a monument in himself, having illuminated the lies and heresy of the Prophets.
"Take us home!"
The Sangheili turned to their consoles, and went to work. The CSS Shadow of Intent slowly began it's ascent above the structure for the portal, above the charred land of New Mombasa, Voi, and Africa. Their fight there was over, and now they would return home. What would happen once they returned was unknown to them, only knowing that the Arbiter would make whatever was wrong right once again.
Yet on Earth the monument would forever stand tall, and the words engraved upon the titanium-A armor would embolden the human race for the rest of eternity. It was over; they had come home; they had won.
The words read: In memory of those fallen in the defense of earth and her colonies. March 3, 2553.
Carved into the side of the memorial, just to the right of the Epitaph were three numbers with the insignia of a Master Chief Petty Officer taped to them.
117
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