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  • Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War (Random Stuff, Page 156)
Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War (Random Stuff, Page 156)
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  • last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT

An explosion erupted nearby, reminding me just how we wound up in this predicament, and I gave up struggling with the clasps holding me in place, settling for cutting the straps away with my knife. My body seemed to protest the sudden weight placed upon it, but I pushed the angry protests aside and began cutting the others free. Private Pearson was no longer quite as talkative, as he couldn’t take his eyes off the bodies of Corporal Walle and PFC Cortez.

With the last Marine free, I stepped carefully to the large tear where the cockpit used to be, and took a quick scan of our surroundings. Not surprisingly, we came to a stop close to the city limits of Gestahl, and judging from the lack of plasma fire coming from the buildings that loomed a scant few hundred feet away, we were at the lone section of the city that wasn’t quite under siege just yet. As ridiculous as it sounded, luck was still on our side.

“Sarge, Corporal Walle’s still alive,” Private Pearson said. Gone was the obnoxious tone from before, and in its place came a voice that I would have thought came from a frightened child. One who had looked deep within the darkness around him, and saw that there was indeed something awaiting him.

“Grab what’s left of your gear,” I ordered, ignoring Pearson. I‘d be taking care of Walle myself, but I didn‘t want the others to see. They were too green to understand what I was going to do. “We’ll need to get into the city fast, because if the Covenant just happen to be watching us, I wouldn’t put it past them to use us as target practice.”

The others numbly grabbed what little they could find; aside from one or two Marines, everyone else had lost their weapon during our tumultuous decent and crash, myself included. All that remained was my knife, and an M6-C handgun that managed to stay within its holster at my side.

Once the others were assembled, I directed their attention to exactly where our destination was. A small slit in between two enormous skyscrapers that looked to have been unmolested so far from artillery fire. I was about to give the order to move out when Pearson tugged at the corner of my flak jacket.

“Sarge, what about Walle? We gotta do something for him.”

“I’ll handle it Private,” I explained, careful to keep my tone soft. “When I give the word, I want you to haul ass with the others, and don’t stop until your inside the city. You got that?”

Whether it was shell-shock from the crash, or just maybe he’d finally learned to shut up and do what he was told, Pearson nodded his assent and walked to the edge of the Pelican.

“Go, go, go!” I shouted, and with little hesitation the remaining Marines were off, sprinting as best as their injured bodies could allow. Without watching, I turned back around and walked quickly over to where Corporal Walle was still slumped forward, the foreign piece of metal still lodged through his chest. His breathing had slowed considerably, but left as he was, he could survive another couple of hours.

The handgun was in my grip before I knew it, and with little flourish I place the muzzle against his temple. A lone round was chambered and ready to steal his life.

This wouldn’t be the first time I provided this service to a dying soldier. I wish I could lose count, forget their faces, but every moment stayed with me, burned into my memory as if their deaths were my own. Bloodied and weak, those men had faced excruciating deaths, and I took on the role of Death, delivering unto them the embrace of darkness. There existed no doubt within me that when I finally died, all of my sins would be visited upon me if indeed there was such a thing as an afterlife. A service it may be in my eyes, but beneath the mighty weight of the universe, what I was doing was nothing more than murder. I took these soldier’s lives before they had a chance to run out on their own. Stealing what is most precious to any living thing.

Inside Corporal Walle’s jacket, I caught sight of something, and with intense interest, I pulled a small holo-card from his front pocket. With my touch, the image of a woman appeared, laughing with a smile in her eyes that spoke volumes of an innocence I felt I hadn‘t seen in a lifetime. She was obviously Walle’s girlfriend, someone that likely reminded him of why he was fighting, and for what reason he just might lose his life in this war.

Was she still alive? Perhaps she was on one of the outer colonies that the Covenant already glassed. Maybe Walle joined the UNSC to avenge her, winning the war with her memory, like so many of these children did. Naivety strong enough that they forgot what little words they may have heard from those that had at one time or another experienced the savagery that is this war.

I wonder how long it took Walle to realize how fleeting those emotions were. War could take the best intentions and turn them against a person. Breaking a man’s spirit was nothing, and destroying his dreams was as easy as one carefully aimed strike.

“You keep her with you Walle,” I said breaking the solemn silence, tucking the holo-card back into his jacket. “I wouldn’t want you to be lonely.”

For some reason the trigger was immobile now, like it was frozen in place. I tried again and again to fire and end Walle’s suffering, but the result was the same, the muzzle stayed where it was, ready and waiting to deliver his freedom. I was hesitating, I knew that much at least. My conscience was telling me that I should leave him be, and give him the chance to enjoy those final moments of life, grasping and remembering whatever memories he might wish to relive. How many of them involved the girl he kept close to his heart?

A wheezing breath escaped the dying soldier, and I watched with morbid fascination as his arm rose up and wavered in the air. His hand clutched weakly at my jacket, and as I felt my throat compress, his lips moved in a rasping wheeze. What he said I will never know, and I think I am glad to have missed them.

Did he wail against the injustice of this war? Questioning humanity’s sin to deserve so cruel a fate, or was he crying out for help, wondering why no one came to his aid as he slowly died? With his eyes glazed, and casting his last breath did he call out for his mother? So much like all men do when faced with their deaths, did Walle desire to return to the one who birthed him? And into whose arms he would find the comfort and love that only a mother could provide? Would he cry out from that warmth and love, weeping as he felt his pain slip away and be replaced with only the care his mother could provide? That simple primal urge, to give into the maternal love of a mother.

I can’t say for sure what he may have said, but what I did know was Walle had only one more step left before he could find eternal rest.

The trigger was no longer heavy, and as I swallowed against the lump that seemed to be lodged in my throat, I delivered the ending to his life. No longer did his chest struggle endlessly against the creeping signs of death, and the weak hand that gripped my jacket was now limp alongside the remains of his jump seat. He was dead.

There are many instances over the years where I can remember hearing people say how life is the most important gift given to us. I’m not really sure what they meant by that, but I guess I kind of understood a little, at least a little bit. Whether or not there is something waiting at the end of someone’s life, the experience of that life is the most important thing to a person, and at times those lives are cut almost tragically short. Death serves as a looming shadow, a constant reminder that we are mortal in the eyes of this universe and we cannot fight against fate.

Blood was pooling down the side of Walle’s head, and I quickly brushed it aside with the hand that took his life. I became mesmerized by it, and after a time the blood dried against my palm, creating a stain that all the water in the world would never wash away. The rough feeling on my hand was only temporary, but the image wasn’t going to leave me for a long time. Perhaps not until the day when I was the one on the receiving end of such a merciful action, like the one I bestowed upon Walle as he slowly died.

Yes, life was a valuable gift, but death was the most precious. Life was a dream made up of happiness embittered by sadness, pleasure tainted by pain. Those fleeting moments of joy and delight, over-shadowed by all of our grief, horror, humiliation, and despair. A long life was a horrible curse upon a human, and that all humans strive to achieve it must have been a running joke amongst all that is divine. Death is the antithesis of life. Death is short, death is sweet, death heals every last pain a person experiences and leaves blissful silence in it’s place. When a man can no longer endure life and existence, death comes to set him free.

I holstered my handgun, and with great care I pulled Walle free from his impalement, and placed his body on the ground alongside PFC Cortez. It was a terrible crime to leave these men behind, but I was left with no choice; nothing could be done but pray they somehow avoided whatever the outcomes of this battle, so that when it ended their bodies could be found and laid to rest in a manner befitting their great deeds.

  • 01.17.2006 3:30 PM PDT

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Absolutely amazing, Never have I read such an envigorzation story.

Although i did use a bunch of large words in my description that most of you won't even understand basically i said it was awesomeness.

  • 01.17.2006 3:31 PM PDT
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Plasma rounds began to fall nearby, causing the Pelican remains to tremble, reminding me that there was still more work to be done. I spared one last glance at the two bodies, then quickly stepped free of the metal tomb and began sprinting across the metallic earth towards the city. Corporal Walle was dead, and I the one who killed him. The burden upon my shoulders was now heavier than before, but in the end it was only one more death on my conscience.

My breaths came quick and short as I ran, the combat boots that adorned my feet clanking as each step fell. It seemed an absurdity, that I would be bereft of all the woes of war at this moment, rushing away from salvation and instead heading directly into a city of shadows that promised death to all who may dwell within. Inclining my head and twisting shortly I could see the Covenant war machine, specters against the bleeding light that remained from the distant star that provided the planet with its main source of light. Every few moments that silhouette was broken, as the large plasma conduits inside the mighty mobile plasma cannons fired round after round into this city I ran towards. Weak retorts responded from this cavernous city, the futile struggles from a dying creature. That last, trembling hand as it clutched to something that might save it, or finally set it free from this pain.

Like the soldiers that I left, I passed the chasm between the tomb of three men and this beguiled city without any threat of my life being taken. I was unseen, or maybe the Covenant did not find one lone life worth taking at this moment. If it was indeed the latter, I would give them as many moments as possible to regret it over the course of this coming battle. It seemed as if I was placing a sense of finality on whatever the outcome was going to be. Death or life? Was there any other option?

“Sarge!”

Pearson’s voice cut straight down to my bones, and I stumbled to a stop, bent over, my haggard breaths the only response I could muster as I became aware that the other soldiers had been waiting for me. I’d entered the city without even taking notice.

“Are you all right?” Corporal Weir asked. He was a middle-aged man from somewhere on Earth. He was at least thirty pounds out of shape, and as I struggled to regain my breath I had to wonder how he managed to run from the Pelican to the city without succumbing to a heart attack.

“I’m…fine.”

Unfortunately my opinion was not very convincing, as I felt Weir wrap his burly arms around my shoulders and cart me off to lean against one of the nearby Covenant skyscrapers.

“What happened to Walle?”

Pearson again. The boy was intent on hounding me at every moment when I wanted a little time to myself. He must hold some kind of grudge against me. Maybe he resents the fact that I’ve managed to survive this long, I’m sure to those that have lost something in this war, old dogs like myself can be resented easily.

There’s too much goddamn hate in this war.

“He’s dead, I left him with Cortez,” shortly I responded, my words clipped, not because of the fatigue soaking my entire being. “Have any of you attempted to contact the other platoons? I’d imagine at least a couple of them made it into the city all right.”

“No sir,” Weir replied. “We weren’t sure if we should wait for you or not.”

I wanted to correct him. I’m not a ‘Sir’, I’m a Sergeant. I don’t warrant that title.

“Its fine,” I replied, but I wasn’t sure who I was speaking to, Weir or myself. I opened up the com linkup, and set my outgoing message to reach the entire battle net. Humans or Covenant alike, they would all hear it.

“This is Sergeant Avery Johnson, UNSC. Any UNSC or friendly forces within the vicinity please respond.”

Silence greeted me, and the other soldiers shuffled uncomfortably.

“I repeat, this is Sergeant Avery Johnson, UNSC. My platoon and I have been separated from the main relief force and are in need of assistance. Any friendly forces near our location please respond.”

This time, the response was almost instantaneous.

*We have received your signal Sergeant, please triangulate our signal with the surveillance systems aboard the ship, Ignoble Hierarchy. Once configured, follow the signal to our position and we shall link you back up with your relief force.*

The deep voice belonged to an Elite, much to my surprise. His gravel tone and deep voice gave him away, even without the odd accent to his words.

“Who am I speaking to?” I asked stupidly. There was a hesitation on the Elite’s end, as if he was as surprised at my stupidity as I was.

*This is Lan ‘Eranumee, Sergeant Johnson. I am a Sangheili, and I am loath to give away so much information over a communications channel, no matter how secure it might appear to be. Now, if you will please follow my instructions, you can link up with the rest of your relief forces that made it into the city. I shall warn you now, the Covenant have been moving forces into this city, through the blind spots created by our defenses. You must move quickly.*

Great. The Elites must have been in worse shape than I thought; if they couldn’t even shore up the defenses around the city, enough so that the Covenant couldn’t slip in without being noticed. They must really need our forces, I don’t think I’ve ever heard an Elite act so courteously.

We weren’t much of a relief force however. Seven soldiers, including myself, bruised and battered from dropping out of the sky. Weaponless for the most part, aside from a handgun and a couple assault rifles. We weren’t prepared to reinforce a -blam!- Boy Scout troupe, let alone a beleaguered army fighting against a superior enemy. Even if every other Pelican made it into the city unharmed, at most we were bringing in maybe a thousand or so troops. Barely enough to cover a quarter mile of territory in this crowded city. Barring a miracle, holding onto this city would be impossible.

“We’re in a bad way here,” I explained to the Elite. “Our Pelican was shot down and we lost several soldiers, along with most of our weapons.”

*Ah!* Surprise tinted the Elite’s voice. *You are from the human vessel that crashed only a short while ago? I am quite surprised any of you survived. It would seem you are closer to myself and my fellow warriors than I thought. Triangulating the signals will be pointless. To the west of your location, along the city limit, if you can manage to follow the path a squad of Elites shall find you.*

“Understood,” I replied, cutting the transmission and climbing to my feet. The conversation was overheard by the others, saving me the task of explaining what was said.

Issuing orders, I put Pearson on point, with me following up the rear. The other soldiers were spaced through the middle, two soldiers against the left side of the street, with the three others on the right. We were going to move fast, but with the threat of Covenant in our vicinity, if we weren’t careful we’d be wiped out before the Elites could find us.

My handgun was drawn, held within my right hand, while my left carried the combat knife. I kept the two weapons close together, holding the handgun with both hands in a classic Weaver stance, while the knife was pointed downwards, the handle alongside the butt of the gun. I wasn’t going to be of much use should we get into a gunfight, but that wasn’t likely to occur. The Covenant streets were narrow, no more than twenty feet wide. Buildings lined the twisted street, creating ample cover should we get ambushed. Should we encounter enemy forces, we’d likely be forced into close quarters and in that situation I would be able to give the enemy a run for their money.

  • 01.17.2006 3:33 PM PDT
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Pearson and Weir were the only other two soldiers that had a weapon, Pearson carrying a BR55 standard issue rifle. It would prove vital should we find a Covenant patrol before they locate us. Weir on the other hand was packing a weapon that I wasn’t too experienced with, aside from the initial F3 (Firing-For-Familiarity) during my time served back on Reach, when they brought old dogs like me in to test out whatever the weapons specialists had been cooking up.

It was a variant of the old standard MA5B Assault Rifle. It was what the techies called a “Hybrid” weapon; basically they had taken two existing weapons and just thrown them together hoping that they’d work well as a team. During the F3 exercise the chief addition I noticed was the use of a second barrel, used to fire a 30mm Compact Grenade, which was quickly nicknamed the “Little-Boy” by the other Master Sergeants and myself. It was one of the smaller Assault Rifle-assisted grenades, but it packed a punch like you wouldn’t believe. The “Little-Boy” could punch a hole through the reinforced titanium plating on a Scorpion tank from over ten feet away. On enemy soldiers, it basically tore them to shreds. Another addition, was that the barrel was filed down, changing the standard M-118 7.62x51mm FMJ-AP rounds and introducing a prototype 9.32x65mm FMJ-AP round. The reason they were prototypes was because the techs back on Reach were using some kind of Covenant technology in them. Something adapted from the Plasma Pistol that the smaller Covenant would use in combat. We weren’t let in on all the specifics, but I think I could tell what the techies were going for when I saw what the prototypes would do to the resultant enemy forces. The MA5B would typically pack “shredder” rounds, which worked well when you were fighting an enemy that didn’t have a -blam!- energy shield, but in the instance of fighting Elites, you would typically have to drain an entire sixty-round clip before the Elite would go down. What these new prototype rounds did was basically blow right through the -blam!- shielding, and strike the enemy behind the shield.

Or at least that’s what the techs told us they would do. Unfortunately they didn’t quite live up to that description as we soon found out. Whatever it was that the techs did to those prototype rounds, they created the first -blam!- weapon that was probably more dangerous to the person firing than the enemy being fired at. Two Master Sergeants I knew from the 23rd Infantry Div were nearly killed when the first bursts they fired at two stationary enemy “targets” with an actual Covenant energy shield in place, quickly ricocheted off the shield and then somehow zeroed back in on them. The rounds had some kind of Covie technology in them, and it tore through their vests like they were made of rice paper.

After that, the M5A4 (as it was officially called) was quickly recalled. When I saw Weir carrying the damn thing, the first time I’d seen it in almost five years, I did a double-take. I cautioned him at the time, making sure to get the point across that under no circumstances was he to fire the calibrated rounds into any form of Covenant energy shielding. He was big enough to lug the weapon around without getting exhausted, but I’m not sure how well he’d perform under fire. When an enemy is taking pot shots at you and your unarmed teammates, the natural instinct would be to blow the mother-blam!- away, but in Weir’s case, that’d be like signing his death warrant. The Brutes and Drones were open season, but I told him if I caught him taking aim at any Jackals using their personal energy shields, I’d stick my knife right up his ass.

Of course it wasn’t the Jackals I should have been worried about, as I was soon to find out.

We’d barely gone half a mile when Pearson signaled for the platoon to hold up. After checking our six and making sure the others were squared away in defensive positions, I made my way up the line to where Pearson was squatting. We were in a narrow section of the street, a series of tall buildings surrounded us (a part of me wondered exactly what the Covenant did in these buildings), and a multitude of alleyways gave plenty of access points for an enemy ambush.

“You better have a good reason for stopping here Pearson,” I warned as I neared. The little bastard had the gall to shush me and quickly motioned for me to crouch down near him. I did so, and then raised an eyebrow as he looked at me expectantly.

“Can you hear it?” he asked, keeping his voice low as if he expected something to be waiting around the corner.

“The only thing I can hear is the echo that comes outta your -blam!- head every time you talk. If your hearing things Pearson, I’ll throw Weir up on point and you can guard the others. We can’t just sit around and wait for the Covenant to find us. The Elites don’t usually issue warnings without there being a bit of weight behind them.”

“Sarge I ain’t bull-blam!- you here. I heard something!”

The kid was pretty intent on it, and I quickly wondered if he might be right. Unconsciously my finger slipped out of the trigger guard of my handgun as I focused myself and tried my best to listen intently to everything around me. Almost immediately I could sense something, almost feeling the vibrations before my ears detected them. A low rumble, and it seemed to be originating from the building that Pearson and I were currently kneeling next to.

“You see, I told you I heard something,” Pearson remarked proudly as he stared at me.

“What the hell is it?” I wondered aloud. “It almost sounds like some kind of animal. A growl or something.”

Pearson’s reply was lost to me, as all of a sudden the growl intensified and from two stories above us, the window plating alongside the building shattered as the biggest thing I ever -blam!- saw jumped through it and down onto the street we were currently inhabiting. Even as the glass rained down around me I was locked into some kind of stupefied shock, capable of nothing more than staring listlessly at the creature as it bounded off its initial landing on the ground, swiping menacingly in my direction.

My first thought was that the thing put the Hunters to shame when it came to sheer size. It stood on four powerful looking legs, thickly toned muscles twitching and shifting as it growled and swiped a massive clawed paw at the ground. The reinforced metal seemed to part like it was constructed of pliable dough beneath the beast’s assault. From where I knelt, I was barely as high as the thing’s thighs on each leg. It was as tall as an Elite, and probably as long as two Hunters laying face down. It was hairless, which didn’t help improve the absolutely menacing appearance its snarling and growling face lent it. All in all, after staring at the thing for about fifteen seconds, the one concrete thing I knew was that we were probably about to be eaten.

I couldn’t see them, but I knew the other soldiers were in a frozen state, much like my own. We waited in absolute stillness, hoping that whatever this thing was, it would overlook our immobile forms and go look for more active prey. Whether that would have happened, I can’t say, because the illusion of harmlessness I was hoping to get across was quickly shattered when Pearson fired off a quick three-round burst with his BR55. I would have smacked the idiot if my heart wasn’t already inside my throat, and if my limbs hadn’t felt like they were made of titanium.

If Pearson’s shots actually hit the creature I couldn’t tell, but even if they did it certainly didn’t look like they did anything other than piss the thing off even more than it was. More menacing growls came from the beast, and it began to work it’s powerful looking jaw, snapping in my general direction but I think it was likely more interested in Pearson.

“You dumb -blam!-,” I said slowly, aware that my voice was trembling. Pearson looked at me in surprise, but judging from the way his hands were shaking, he was as scared -blam!-less as I was.

“Sarge I hit that thing for sure,” Pearson hissed. “It didn’t even -blam!- blink!”

The thing had given up trying to intimidate us with growls, and not grew silent as it began to slowly stalk towards us, but for some reason I felt my last moments in this universe needed to be spent talking with Pearson instead of making an effort to at least run away. Its lumbering gait was slow and purposeful, as if it knew that even if we ran, it’d take no more than a leap and a bound to catch us. No more than ten yards separated Pearson and I from the beast.

A rhythmic clacking noise off to the side caught my attention and I glanced over to see Pearson trembling almost violently. His BR55 was striking the metallic ground with every tremor that wracked his fear-ridden body. His boyish face quickly filled me with shame as I watched. This kid was nothing but that, a child, while I was an experienced soldier and almost twice his age. Shaking and cowering wasn’t something a man like myself did, no matter how terrifying the enemies I might be facing.

“When I move, I want you to run Pearson. Run like the -blam!- wind and don’t look back. Grab the others and go.”

Once again that same calm demeanor assumed control over my voice, even though my eyes still refused to leave the creature that was now only twenty or so yards away.

“Sarge?” Pearson asked.

  • 01.17.2006 3:35 PM PDT
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“Don’t think, just do it,” I replied, and not leaving much time for a rebuke, I pushed off the ground and charged straight towards the beast. A muttered curse and combat boots scraping against the ground was all I could hear as Pearson took off backwards, running towards the other soldiers. My momentary suicidal thought quickly subsided, as the creature prepared to swing a massive clawed hand that promised to tear me into individual serving sizes for it to chow down on with little discomfort. The straight path I was running quickly took a turn as I pivoted and charged further down the street, heading in the opposite direction that Pearson was headed. To give the thing incentive to follow me, I fired a few shots from my handgun, and watched with a kind of dawning realization that while the rounds most certainly did strike the thing, I might as well have been throwing pebbles at it. As a blood-curdling growl came from the beast as it bounded off after me, I sympathized that at least my initial goal had been accomplished. The thing was following me, and not the others.

My mind was trying to turn over the thought of where the hell I was going to go from here, when the ground literally exploded behind me, nearly catapulting me off my feet and into the air. I stumbled heavily, my hands coming down to stop me from slamming into the ground. I spared a glance behind me only to see that the creature had caught up to me in a single leap from where we first parted ways. Fear-fueled adrenaline coursed through me, giving me the drive to actually right myself and continue sprinting. With a curse I ducked into an alleyway, barely wide enough to accommodate my size. The Covenant were certainly more immaculate than humanity. The alleyways were as free and uncluttered as the rest of the city, giving me an easy passage through the alley and out into the next street, which lead into a courtyard. Covenant architecture may have been alien to me, but I could recognize an area meant for relaxing in any society. It looked to be the only place in the highly mechanized city that wasn’t covered with the same drab design as all Covenant technology possessed.

The courtyard was spherical, and was actually decorated and lined with some foreign kind of lighting display. Dusk had already passed in this side of Danrun, which gave the lights a much more prominent look than if there were still an external source of light. A wide staircase lead down into the courtyard, and I was only a few feet away when what felt like a fifty tonne wrecking ball slammed into me from behind. Granted I’ve never been hit by one before, but I’m sure the experience is the same.

What little air was left in my lungs exploded out as I was crushed into the ground, my inertia that carried over from both my sprinting and getting struck from behind sent me tumbling down the wide staircase that led into the courtyard. I hit the ground hard, and in a vain effort I tried to pull my handgun free of the holster I had deposited in when my sprinting began. It had barely cleared the holster when one of the creatures paws stomped down upon my midsection, effectively pinning my hand.

There was no time to think, my remaining arm came up, seconds before the creature reared downwards, ready to tear my head from my shoulders. Instead, it’s mouth caught the artificial limb attached to my arm. Whatever metal it was made out of, it seemed to be a fair bit sturdier than whatever the Covenant used to cover the ground, as it wasn’t immediately torn to shreds when the beast began to violently thrash about, attempting to tear the limb from my body.

With it’s giant paw crushing against my stomach, I could hardly struggle to take in any oxygen and my vision began to blur. I pulled vainly at my trapped arm, the oxygen deprivation lowered my awareness and I accidentally fire the pistol trapped in my hand. Sending a single round through my thigh. If I had the energy I would have screamed, as the shot did nothing more than injure myself, and cause the beast to plunge the heavy claws on its hand into my stomach in an attempt to cease my struggles, easily ripping through my fatigues and into my flesh. The pain seemed distant, and my mind became sluggish as spots swam in front of my eyes. Everything around me became hazy, as my consciousness slowly dissipated.

Even if I was mentally aware of what was going on, I doubt I could have heard the gunshots over the increasingly audible snarls coming from the creature. That said, I certainly noticed when the shots peppered the ground around me, kicking up metal fragments that sliced into my left arm and face. The merciless tug-of-war the creature had with the artificial limb ended, and it leapt free of my body, pausing merely to bat me aside as if I were nothing but a discarded toy. My heart thudded in my ears, but I could still pick up on the voices of the others.

“Pearson try aiming for the goddamn alien instead of Sarge!”

“If I want your input McLennan I’ll -blam!- ask for it! Go make sure Weir gets in position cause I sure as hell don’t want that thing coming after me!”

I was weak. My limbs felt heavy, and my head lolled to the side against my will. I caught sight of two Marines, Pearson and McLennan, standing on top of the staircase that I was unceremoniously shoved down by the very large creature currently charging towards them. Pearson was shouldering his BR55, firing three-round bursts at the beast. His shots for the most part went wide, and when they did hit the creature, they appeared to glance off it’s thick hide. Not realizing the futility of his efforts, Pearson switched over to Full-Auto, and emptied an entire clip in about ten seconds.

“Weir now would be a very good time to get your fat ass in position!” the hapless soldier shouted when he saw that his shots had done absolutely nothing to stop the rampaging creature as it continued it’s charge towards him.

There was no retort from Weir as far as I could tell from my position down in the courtyard, at least as far as verbal communication goes, but he sure as hell let Pearson know he was in position. A heavy whoosh was all that could be heard, and a second later the rampaging creature was lost in a cloud of phosphorous smoke. My breath was returning to me and I was able to pull myself to up onto my hands and knees, looking closely and spotting Weir from his position in the second floor of a nearby Covenant building that overlooked the courtyard. From where I was I couldn’t exactly see, but I knew that he had fired his M5A4’s secondary weapon. The ‘Little Boy’. It hadn’t changed much over the half decade since I last saw it in use, it still packed a hell of a punch. Judging from the fact that Pearson wasn’t torn to shreds by now, the hybrid grenade managed to stop that beast in its tracks.

“You all right down there Sarge?” Pearson bellowed down to me, his BR55 almost cockily raised in salute. I wasn’t in a condition capable of speaking just yet, so I settled for giving a simple wave from where I was now sitting with my legs stretched out in front of me. The smoke surrounding the crater where Weir’s shot his was beginning to clear as I checked my arm for any signs of damage to inner workings of the limb. The bullet wound in my thigh, and the savage tears along my abdomen were beginning to mend all ready, thanks to the Flood DNA that still coursed inside my blood. Had it been anyone else, those wounds combined would have likely resulted in a quick death by the severing of the main artery by the bullet wound that I inflicted upon myself with my useless struggling. The smoke was gone now, and I could feel a prickling sensation along the back of my neck even before I saw that the crater was empty.

Pearson screaming out a warning was about all I received before I whipped my body around, just in time to see the creature emerge from behind the veil of darkness that shrouded the upper portions of the courtyard. I reached for my handgun the had been deposited beside me earlier. I was able to feel the cold steel along the pistols handle, just before I was struck by a rather vicious backhand. Tossed through the air once more, my face cracked painfully against the metallic earth. I tumbled to a stop near the center of the courtyard, my hand able to grasp the knife I kept within the sheath on my right calf before the creature was upon me once again. Those same foreign lights I marveled at when I first saw the courtyard were illuminating the beast that was poised above me for the second time. I was weaker than before, but I still swung my knife in a wide arch, slamming it into the beast’s leg, burying it to the hilt. Once again it seemed the attack did little more than piss the thing off, and I was struck once more, skidding against the ground and crashing painfully against what appeared to be a kind of bench.

Weakly I attempted to crawl beneath it, but I had no sooner shifted my head underneath when it was quite abruptly torn free and tossed aside, as if weighed no more than an ounce. The putrid, foul breath of the beast rolled down along my neck, a familiar feeling by this point. Death was behind me, and I was about to embrace it, giving my life in exchange for this peace.

But I do not want to die.

This thought startled me, and as I felt a lone leg crash down against my back, pinning me to the ground, panic overtook me. My strength was gone, but in weak mumblings and tears of frustration and sadness, I let my last act of defiance free.

[Edited on 1/17/2006]

  • 01.17.2006 3:36 PM PDT
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~I was born for the storm, and a calm does not suit me~

CEC
╣Fire of Tru7h╠
The Campers

מִכְמַן

That was really great!
And that was really sickening.

[Edited on 1/17/2006]

  • 01.17.2006 3:37 PM PDT
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I don’t wanna die, I can’t look across the barrier that exists between life and death and make that journey to the other side. I have to live! My life is too precious to be stolen like this. How hypocritical of me to think this, but please, please I cannot die here! Someone, anyone come and heal me, save me from this fate!


Is this selfish of me? I want to live, and I would gladly trade the lives of any creature in this universe to survive.


Give me one last chance at this life. I won’t waste it, and I will never take this existence for granted ever again. Please God, help me!


It hurts…it hurts bad. Why can’t this pain go away? Let me die peacefully! What have I done to deserve this kind of death? Is it because I gave the soldiers peace? I saved them from this! Saved them from experiencing this same pain!




I want to be in love, to have love like Walle. Why couldn’t I fall in love with a girl? Am I supposed to be alone? I wanna be in love! I can die like that!






Why can’t I see? All I can see is blood. Why the -blam!- is this happening to me!? What the -blam!-!? -blam!-! I can’t feel anything. Everything’s red. My hands trembling, and I can’t even -blam!- tell without seeing it!




Shut the -blam!- up! I’m a -blam!- Marine, I don’t -blam!- and moan like a Goddamn coward. I joined the Corps knowin’ this would happen since day -blam!- one. Death is part of the job description, and I’m gonna meet my maker wearin’ a grin.




Everything is so -blam!- pointless…this war…everything. We shoulda just blown each other apart years ago…it’d save everyone a lot of trouble. -blam!-! -blam!- this planet! This stupid -blam!- war!




The pain! I can’t take it anymore! I don’t want to suffer like this! Someone end this please!
Why can’t I go out like those lucky bastards that the Covenant killed back on Reach. I’d be better off going like that, in an instant. Humanity would…it’d be……
It hurts! It hurts! Make it stop…please. I’m so scared…why can’t it all leave?




I’m sorry…everyone. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry!
…why am I apologizing? What the hell am I sorry for? Why am I feeling so guilty? I can’t stop it!
I’m sorry world! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m SORRY!
Its fading…everything’s gone…







…mom…



It should have been the end. I died then, and yet I didn’t. My consciousness was gone, and it was replaced with something else. An intense emotion so strong that it consumed me. My soul was now dedicated to this yearning. This hunger. This need to feed.

My body was broken, and yet there was no pain. My weight disappeared in an instant, and everything became simpler.

Ferocity overtook me, and my body tore free of the beast’s hold, the wounds inflicted not even registering with my mind. The blade I had impaled the beast with along the leg was now free, within my hand. This senseless urge to kill and to feed drove me forward, my strength returned and overflowing. As fast as my enemy was, I was now faster, and more committed to this battle. Three strikes with my knife, and the beast fell to the ground, the leg that had pinned me down was now useless. I stumbled along, my body may be strong, but it was damaged as it was, and it would take time to mend. That could be taken care of, after my enemy was incapacitated, and ready for harvesting.

But I fell, this newfound strength suddenly leaving me, and with it the intensity that came with it. My consciousness returned, as did the pain, and I screamed as I convulsed on the ground. It felt as if I had been pulled apart from the inside-out. I was now bearing my flesh to the outside world.

A shimmer against the night caught my attention, and a sudden explosion of light blinded me. A bestial scream tore through the night, cut off suddenly and shortly followed by a fleshy thump. I twisted my head, and saw that the beast had been decapitated by a plasma blade, held in the hands of an Elite that was still camouflaged by its cloaking technology. It watched the felled beast for a moment before its veil disappeared, and I found myself staring into the face of the Elite. It watched me in confusion, and to my surprise, a little fear.

“I require your assurances…before I assist you, that you will not attack me,” the Elite spoke, its tone even and calm.

I could no more than whimper pitifully as I shuddered against the pain. The Elite seemed torn between assisting me and beheading me with the same plasma blade held within his grasp.

“Its all right ‘Eranumee, Sergeant Johnson won’t bite. He’s the nicest badass you’ll ever encounter,” a female voice announced. It was familiar to me, and I watched as Jan slowly walked towards the Elite and I. She nodded at the questioning look the Elite gave her, and then glanced down at me.

“You’ve looked better,” she commented with a smile, before kneeling down and grabbing hold of my shoulder as the Elite took the other, and slowly pulled me to my feet. The pain was still intense, but I could tell from experience that the wounds were beginning to heal.

“The human has been injured, Miss Janissary,” the Elite spoke, voicing what I thought was a very obvious fact. Jan smiled good-naturedly, and I could feel something stir within me as I watched her face, almost transfixed.

“Johnson is a lot tougher than his baby-face lends you to think. Hold him up ‘Eranumee and I’ll take a look,” the girl said as she slowly eased out from beside me and I felt the Elite take hold of my full weight, keeping me from toppling over. Jan must have somehow gotten on the good side of this Elite, as I’d never seen one so readily accepting of a human, let alone a casual order from a human.

Jan lifted my flak jacket, a sharp intake of breath indicating that she saw the numerous abrasions and outright tears along my flesh. I winced as she lightly probed a particular gash along my abdomen, and was surprised when a fervid desire seemed to overtake me. It was not a -blam!- desire, even though I had found the girl to be a source of -blam!- release before. This profound voracity was on a level that was beyond any physical need. It was the same emotion I felt when fighting the beast, when I felt nothing but this intensity.

“Are you going to be all right?” Jan asked, and I was forced to consciously repress my thoughts as I found my voice.

“I should be better in an hour or so. If you can find someplace where I can rest without having to worry about running into one of those things again, it’d help a lot.”

“A Sharquoi,” the Elite replied behind me, his strong voice reverberated through me. “They are a terrible weapon of the Covenant. Possessing the strength of the Lekgolo, the speed of the Kig-Yar, and the ferocity of the Jiralhanae, they are indeed a strong adversary. It had been our intention before the dissention to release them on your home world as a final act of vengeance against you humans. I found it to be a despicable act at the time, and now I believe I was right even more so. The Covenant are truly pathetic to use those beasts in this battle. They care not for who they kill or maim. You are certainly an incredible warrior, human, to be able to incapacitate it in such a manner.”

“I think we should save the bedtime stories till we’ve got Johnson someplace where he can rest,” Jan interjected, and with a simple word of confirmation from ‘Eranumee, I was carted off. I saw the other soldiers from my platoon along the way, and I was glad to see they were still alive, even as my mind was focused on what happened to me.

I was changing, I could feel it. When that Sharquoi pinned and tore away at my body as I slowly died, something had changed. A sensation throughout my entire being filled me, and frightened me. It was as if I no longer could feel fatigue or weakness, that I had gone beyond the limitations placed upon me by this human body. That came with a price though, and that was in the form of the intense desires that consumed my very soul. It was as if I was starved, but I did not desire any food or substance.

Frightening as it was, I decided that I would never speak of what occurred on this day to any living soul…ever; and I saw that through until the very last day of my life.

Things were changing in this war, within me. Whatever it was, I would not understand the severity of it until it was too late, and I had no choice but to give in to those creeping, stalking emotions that were now buried within me again.

-------------------------------------

Author’s Notes: Interesting no? This was originally going to be a part of a large sequence in Chapter 22, but after computer failures and massive rewrites that were not wanted, I was forced to cut it, but at the time I was determined to bring it back somehow, and that’s when this idea came up. To make it a short side story, and to even change the perspective. Dropping the third person narrative of the overall story and adopting the first person outlook. I greatly enjoyed it, and I hope you guys did too.

Before everyone asks, Johnson is not having a romantic entanglement with Jan. His feelings are on a level that those of you who are clever enough will figure out, then promptly grow very worried for Jan, and for Johnson.

Apologies if the later bit of the story appeared to be unedited, because it was. My normal proof-reader had to take a sabbatical herself, as she was feeling under the weather. She’s a tough one though…

I could only stand doing the first half, then I decided to hell with it.

  • 01.17.2006 3:39 PM PDT
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Obligatory post from me saying this chapter was the best/awesome/cool/sexy.

Now Clark can post without his odd aversion to double posting. There you are buddy, now can I go back to sleep?

  • 01.17.2006 4:27 PM PDT

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Sexy???


that taking it a little to far i think.

  • 01.17.2006 5:02 PM PDT
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Haha, oh Konoka, you and your drugs.

Hm, so yes, I have a few things to say. This chapter had some problems, but overall I really enjoyed writing it. First person is a style I greatly love using, and I'll typically use any excuse to throw it into a story. I love getting into the characters head, and just totally mess around with them.

So that brings up an interesting question I received from a reader, wondering why I chose to do a side story dedicated to Johnson, instead of the Master Chief.

In a very succent and forceful manner, I can say that I am probably one of the very few people around who find the Master Chief to be a dull character. He is basically a static hero, in that there is very little to his personality aside from the desire to fight and to win. Yes he has emotions, but they're so deeply surpressed that it took fighting the Flood for him to actually show a tiny -blam!- in his emotional armour. Still, I like him in as much as there's so much potential for an emotional breakdown that could absolutely crush him. Err, that sounds pretty weird.

Anyways, Johnson was chosen because I really do like him as a character, mainly because there is so very little defined about him that I can create my own backround for him.

The same goes for the Arbiter, those two, Johnson and the Elite, are the reason I wrote this story. Or at least continued writing it after I did the initial prologue.

Well, don't think too much about this. I still like the Master Chief, and this whole thing with Cyriacus is just my way of breaking down the Chief's barriers.

Other Info

Several different milestones passed in the months of no chapter. We just recently hit 4000 posts here in the forums.

Over on fanfiction.net, the 500 review point passed, and even more remarkable is that the stories had over 100,000 hits since it was first posted a little over a year ago.

But none of that matters. All it does is make me grin and wonder what kind of drugs everyones on where they actually enjoy this story.

What matters is that people actually are enjoying the story, and even if they aren't they throw out some criticism in the form of constructive, where they can actually tell me ways to improve, instead of just saying that I'm a dumb Canadian.

  • 01.17.2006 5:14 PM PDT
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that was awesome, i feel that the flood DNA inside him has been awakened or something, showing from when he felt the need to feed and harvest others. But i think he will only become a flood when he dies because i guess he can't die from wounds unless he is like dismembered. i also liked the ".................mom..............." thing. That was sweet.


......Blame Canada, eh? lol im just kidding, Canada is cool, I like their hockey teams. :)

  • 01.17.2006 5:29 PM PDT
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What matters is that people actually are enjoying the story, and even if they aren't they throw out some criticism in the form of constructive, where they can actually tell me ways to improve, instead of just saying that I'm a dumb Canadian.


Ur a dumb canadian
















jk

  • 01.17.2006 7:03 PM PDT

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It's alright to be a dumb canadian. If u were american you would turn out to be like einstien.


that's a stupid american joke just so you all know.



















But i didn't really mean it.

  • 01.17.2006 8:00 PM PDT
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Great chapter. It was worth the wait. So now Johnson becomes a philosopher (sp?) and is starting to give into the Flood DNA inside of him. Interesting... and now he wants Jan.

  • 01.17.2006 10:19 PM PDT
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then he would almost be able to take on mc, almost

  • 01.18.2006 1:56 PM PDT
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u know mr clark, ur just copying sir brilliant's idea of writing?

was that the ending, when he feels a leg strike his back?

  • 01.18.2006 3:13 PM PDT
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Posted by: Proteus736
u know mr clark, ur just copying sir brilliant's idea of writing?

was that the ending, when he feels a leg strike his back?


I'd hate to accuse you of not knowing how to read Proteus, but quotes like that make it so damn hard.

  • 01.18.2006 3:33 PM PDT
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I liked it! I like the addition of the creature in the covenant city.

So now that this side story is published, will you continue to write side stories between chapters, or do you know when we can expect the next chapter to the story?

I Hunger for more now that I had read a goldmine of awesome literature.

  • 01.18.2006 4:15 PM PDT
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Posted by: JTisaBeEg
I liked it! I like the addition of the creature in the covenant city.

So now that this side story is published, will you continue to write side stories between chapters, or do you know when we can expect the next chapter to the story?

I Hunger for more now that I had read a goldmine of awesome literature.


Well that brings up a dark secret I've been keeping from you guys.

I've been working on Chapter 23 for quite some time, so its a lot further along than you might think. As for more side stories, I'm not sure, we'll have to play it by ear for now.

  • 01.18.2006 5:30 PM PDT

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So proteus, tell me how Mr_clark "copied" Sir_brilliants style of writing?

was it the first person, because it wasn't sir_brilliant who first did it so he copied it, possible, if his story is in first person.

was it getting inside the head of a character. First person to do this... not sir_brilliant. it was actually . Edgar Allen Poe.

Was it writing a fanfic? Possible hundreds have been made. you tell me the first.

Or the halo themed fanfic. Sir_brilliant copied that from bungie.

Well lets see how Mr_clark copied Sir_brilliants style of writing now.

P.S. Note: This was not to offend sir_brilliant. It was to make a point that all themes have been taken and used for thousands of years. there hasn't been any original ideas for hundreds of years.

  • 01.18.2006 6:13 PM PDT
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I will always place the mission first.
I will never accept defeat.
I will never quit.
I will never leave a fallen comrade.

Posted by: Proteus736
u know mr clark, ur just copying sir brilliant's idea of writing?

was that the ending, when he feels a leg strike his back?


Mr. Clark's and Sir Brilliant's style of writing is totally different neither of them copied each other

  • 01.18.2006 7:36 PM PDT
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Posted by: Proteus736
u know mr clark, ur just copying sir brilliant's idea of writing?

was that the ending, when he feels a leg strike his back?


Wow...just wow...um just so you know, people have been writing for like 5000 years. I don't think anyone copied anyone else in the "idea of writing".
I also wouldn't think that sir_brilliant is 5000+ years old and invented cuneiform used by the ancient Mesopotamians.


Besides, you copied my idea of posting since you posted after me :)



....Think before you speak (or post in this case) a wise man once said.


[/end of my being mean]

[Edited on 1/18/2006]

  • 01.18.2006 7:52 PM PDT

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I would still like to know how it was supposedly copied.

  • 01.18.2006 8:20 PM PDT

Phoenix is dead, long live Phoenix!
Is it?

what I dont get is the question mark at the end of the first sentance.
its like...
Hi, my name is Bobette?

  • 01.19.2006 12:04 AM PDT