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Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part five "R&R" is up! 12/12!
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Let me just start by saying this will be the most fulfilling piece of work you've seen from me yet, and it will exceed any of my previous work by a hundred times over. Believe me when I say that you will NOT be disappointed!

NOTE! Sorry for all the Typo's! I'll go over them as I remaster the version!

Chapter Selection:

Prologue

Part One: Enlistment

Part Two: The Babysitter

Part Three: The High . . .

Part Four: . . . And The Low

Part Five: R&R

Prologue

If you would have asked me two years ago to join the ODSTs, I would have said no. I would have known what being an Oribtal Drop Shick Trooper entails, and I would have declined. Unfortunately, I had no such way of knowing what being the elite requires, or entitles. Now I know what you must give to be the best.

Everything.

I've already lost everything. My friends, my family, all of it. Now I'm about to lose the one thing I truly have left - my life. With a shaking hand - my only remaining hand - I crawl towards the M6D laying on the dirt a few feet away. Without my two legs to support me, it's a struggle. My vision blurs from mass blood loss, and my head aches from the unbearable pain that bites at every single nerve cell in my body just as a shark bites at fresh meat.

My weak, shaking hand grabs ahold of the weapon, struggling to place the finger around the triggerpiece. With all of my limbs missing - aside from my right hand - I compete with the weak mess that is my body to turn on my backside. Pain is the only response I get at first, but finally, I manage to complete my task.

Ahead of me is a figure. It lets out a damaged cough, wipes blood from it's mandibles, and grins as it catches sight of me. It crawls away from the crashed Phantom Dropship, and struggles to bring itself to it's feet. The tall alien stands, making it's way towards me with a limp. It's wrist flicks, and the object within it's grasp comes to life with a sicking hiss. The two blades of plasma seem to laugh in delight as they make their way in for the kill. With an effort, I level my M6D and attempt to aim at the figure - shoot for it's head.

"Foolish Human," the alien spits, inching toward me, purple blood oozing from it's skull. "You threw your life away for nothing. Your entire squad did. All of your struggles were futile efforts to try and put an end to the destruction of your already futile race. You cannot change destiny." A small laugh. "You could not even manage to destroy--"

As if on que, a large explosion sounds in the distance, many miles away. The alien immidiately whips around, just in time to see a large mushroom cloud form over the horizon. I let out a gurgled laugh, as well as some blood. My finger squeezes slightly on the trigger as I take careful aim on the alien's skull. "Destiny . . . rejected . . ." I mock.

My finger tightens around the trigger.

The shot is fired.

[Edited on 12.12.2009 4:22 PM PST]

  • 11.26.2009 6:34 PM PDT
Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part one is up! (not the prologue!)
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Author's Note: Can you guess who the protagonist is? :)

Part One - Enlistement

Two Years Earlier...

"Next," the warrant officer behind the desk called. I stepped forward as the person ahead of me left, having finished his enlistment. "Can I help you?"

I stuttered. "Y- yes, I'd like to join the Navy."

The man sighed in exasperation, then rubbed a hand over his thinning head. He looked up with a sarcastic smile. "Well, I would imagine that's why you're in the enlistment center, isn't it?"

I flushed. Truth was, I had been really nervous. Not in a million years had I ever dreamed of joining the military . . . let alone the ODSTs. "Well. Uhm . . . what options do I have?"

The man at the desk stared at me a moment before letting out a weak laugh. He reclined in his chair and whispered: "You've gatta be kidding me . . ." The warrant officer quickly recoiled, folding his fingers on the desk. "Look. This is the United Nations Space Command. In the United Nations Space Command, there will be fighting. There will be shooting. There will be killing." He paused. "Now, are you sure that's what you want to do? No offense, kid, but by look at you . . ." another pause as he studdied me. I looked down at myself as he did so. I didn't blame him for having his doubts.

With my scrawny build, sloppy ginger hair and freckles, I looked like the infamous school nerd. "Sir," I began. "I'm positive this si what I want to do. I-- I know I don't look the part, but I want this."

He bit his lip, furrowed his brow, and nodded in - what? Pitty? "Fine, then," he said, handing me the documents which would sell my life to the UNSC. "Just sign here." He pointed toward a spot on the sheet with a blank space, left for my signature. I pressed the pen down, then stopped. I noticed a futile attempt to hide my vision from the top of the contract as the warrant officer hid it with his wrist.

"Excuse me," I said. "Could you move your wrist?"

The man looked grave. He nodded slowly, retracted his hand, and I read the text which he had been so eager to keep hidden from me. Seconds later, I stopped, eyes curious - no, hungry for information. I looked toward the warrant officer pleadingly. "Sir? What are . . ." I stopped, glancing at the contract again. "Ordibtal Drop Shock Troopers?"

"Oh, you don't want to mess with them," he said hurriedly. "I wasn't sure you'd be UNSC material, but I'm as sure as hell you definitely won't survive a day in their league." He pointed toward the signature again - indicating me to join under the standard posiiton of a marine.

I shook my head. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to see the registration forms for the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers,"

He sighed. "Very well, then," he said, digging out a fresh set of forms. He tossed one over to me, and I quickly skimmed it. It made it very clear the Troopers are the best of the best. The elite. I wanted to be the best. With a shaking hand, I pressed the pen down on the document, allowing the ink to flow. With a flew graceful movements, I signed my name.

Richard O'Brian . . . an ODST.

[Edited on 11.27.2009 12:39 PM PST]

  • 11.27.2009 7:50 AM PDT

I don't mean to sound offensive here, but that sounded a lot like the second part of the first Memoirs of an ODST. Maybe a little more detailed, but the basic gist of it was the same. Still, I suppose it doesn't really matter.

I noticed you going between past and present tense every so often. Not to mention you always spelt 'Shock' wrong. And a few times you capatalised 'elite' when there was no need to, as you were using it as an adjective.

And yeah, I see you've got O'Brian as the ODST. That's cool, although personally I wouldn't have chosen the immature protagonist of The Babysitter for my own story. Unless you're referring to the O'Brian of Another Day at the Beach, who, incidentally could very well be the same O'Brian.

Anyway, I'll keep my eye on this. Needs some work, but shows promise.

  • 11.27.2009 8:01 AM PDT
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Yeah... I kind of messaged you concerning that. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to rob you of your idea. >.< I didn't realize until after I wrote it.

And the past and present tense is intentional. It'll make sense later on in the novel. I'll polish it up, too.

[Edited on 11.27.2009 8:05 AM PST]

  • 11.27.2009 8:04 AM PDT

The Hybrid a FanFic by Tehface

"Look for the signs, the keepers of the flame. They will lead you to war, and perhaps, to victory."

I'm going to have to agree with Wolver about it sounding like Memoirs. The past and present thing also worried me as well.

It's a good story, just differentiate a little from Wolver, and it'll be great.

  • 11.27.2009 10:21 AM PDT
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It'll all make sense towards the end of the story, concerning the past and present.

And as for Wolver... I have no excuse. I swear it wasn't intentional.

  • 11.27.2009 10:26 AM PDT

"Find The Bomb?!
Find The Bomb?!
I'm Looking For The Flag!
What The Heck Is Assualt!?"

I have not read Memoirs and this was posted inside the Archives, so being obligated to read it I did and I must say I approve of this Fanatic fiction.

  • 11.27.2009 10:47 AM PDT

I honestly don't mind about the whole Memoirs like chapter; it's a nice way to start a story.

:)

And Buggy...one of these days, you shall read a story written by me. And the time of Rapture shall cometh.

  • 11.27.2009 11:30 AM PDT

"Find The Bomb?!
Find The Bomb?!
I'm Looking For The Flag!
What The Heck Is Assualt!?"

Posted by: Wolverfrog
I honestly don't mind about the whole Memoirs like chapter; it's a nice way to start a story.

:)

And Buggy...one of these days, you shall read a story written by me. And the time of Rapture shall cometh.


Or I'll say it isn't very good...

  • 11.27.2009 11:40 AM PDT
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No matter how many seals are killed by sharks a year, it never seems to be enough :D

Cmon bro. Stick with the other one ><

  • 11.27.2009 12:17 PM PDT
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No one ever paid any attention to the other one.

And, I understand you like Romance, Major? Not to worry, this will have plenty of it, if that's what you're hoping for.

  • 11.27.2009 12:33 PM PDT

Ah yes, Romance. Something I've considered implementing into Memoirs. But I'm not quite sure. I want it to remain gritty, yet with frequent moments of typical Halo humour too.

This shall require some thought.

  • 11.27.2009 1:15 PM PDT
Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part three "The High" is up! + Edit!
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Author's Notes: Yes, this is based after the Halo Legends episode. But it plays a key role in my story, and new things will happen, that wasn't shown in the episode. I'm only writing it for those who did not get the chance to see the episode, so they can understand the storyline.


Part Two: The Babysitter

One Year Earlier...

"I don't get it," I barked, gazing out the window of the UNSC batteship from the mess hall booth. My other two ODST squadmates, Dutch and Checkmen, turned to me. "How the hell did everyone conveniently forget that I'm the best shot this side ever witnessed? Getting assigned as backup is a bunch of BS."

"Contingency," Dutch explained, biting on his toothpick. "If the first sniper misses, they get the shot."

My eyes flared. "I don't miss, I never miss!" I retorted hurriedly, somewhat offended. I was the best shot in all the 105th, damn it, and I wanted everyone to know it. "This sucks, and you know it!" I propped my head with my arm on the table. "I'm nobody's babysitter; especially not some farm-boy moose hunter."

Cortez - our squad leader at the time - smiled as he overheard my rant while he joined us for lunch. "I'd hate to be the one to break the bad new," he started. "But you weren't selected to be the primary shooter on this mission. It seems they want your farm-boy to do it?" He smiled mockingly. "I guess that makes you the backup. Sorry, O'Brian."

The short fuse that was my temper ignited. I withdrew from my seat instantly, taking a defensive stance. "I'm the backup!?" I roared, punding my fist ont the table.

Cortez looked away from his soup and smiled. "And the shooter . . ." he paused for dramatic affect. "Is a Spartan." Both Dutch and Checkman dropped their jaws, Dutch losing his toothpick in the process. "And that means this mission just got escalated."

I stood there a moment, then blinked like a moron. "You damn liar!" I roared, taking my seat again. He tilted his head toward me and arched an eyebrow in satisfaction.

"Whatever you say, O'Brian." he laughed. "Whatever you say."



"This is Spartan Cal-141." Admiral Lockhart explained, nodding at the green giant to the left of him. I stared in disgust. Not only did I completely think this situation was FUBAR, having already been assigned to backup, but I didn't need a Spartan to babysit me. "He'll be the ranking officer in this mission. I realize that is highly unusual, and you have strong feelings about Spartan's" - no duh - "but you will keep those feelings out of the mission and follow the plan." The Admiral turned to Cortez, who had been standing in front of the debriefing screen. Me, Dutch, and Checkmen stood at attention.

"Satellite recon shows radar and magnetic signatures on high end, in the Arkstar cluster." the Admiral continued. "These signatures make a complex of buildings - a logistical base. The Prophet you are targeting is in full control of the entire cluster. Our mission is simple: we want this Prophet dead. We take out the Prophet, we take out the Covenant chain of supply."

He turrned away from the screen, and met our gazes. "If we achieve this goal, we buy the UNSC months worth of time, and tactical advantage, and will do all of this with minimal risk to the UNSC."

I listened to the rest of the debriefing with strain. I couldn't keep my gaze away from the Spartan. For whatever reason, I resented him. Probably because he was showing me up, sure, but I was the best damn sniper. I had a reputation to uphold.

I never miss.



I gripped the fingerholds of my HEV pod as it pulled into orbit of the planet. Cortez had mentioned something about taking pictures of alien architect - but the catch was, it wasn't Covenant. It was . . . something else.

I braced myself as the pod broke atmoshpere. I activated the chute, and prepared for a hard landing - no landing was relatively gentle. Except, that is, for mine. I furrowed my brow. My pod should have slammed into the earth with a bang . . . not casually landed. I was about to asses the situation until I noticed something creeping over the glass of my HEV. Water. I began to scream out, but to no avail. Struggling to make sense of all that was going on, I checked my oxygen tank.

No good - it was punctured on impact. Now I had no air, and my pod was sinking into a murky swamp. I began to bang on the HEV's door in desperation. I stopped, lay back, and breathed hollowly.

Suddenly, my pod began to stir, and before I know it, I was being hurled through the air. I tumbled inside my pod a bit, then landed hard on my side, admitting a grimace of pain. My pressurized door flew open, and I jumped out, removing my helmet to breathe.

"Are you guys nuts!" I boomed, trying to catch my breath. "Why are you throwing me around like that!" I turned, facing the large Spartan standing over me, the pressurized door of my pod in hand. He studdied me a moment, then turned, walking away.

Dutch was by my side in an instant, and kneeled over to give me a sitrep. "We lost Checkmen in the atmosphere," he reported glooomily. I gasped, then hung my head. I had known Checkmen well. And then we has just . . . gone. "And we woulda lost you, too," he finished, nodding at the Spartan. I remained silent.

Cortez reered in. "You alright, O'Brian?" he asked, helping me to my feet. I shrugged off, grabbed my weapons from my pod, and threw my helmet on.

"Piss off." I barked arrogantly, heading away from the two.

Back then, I was an idiot. Back then, I was only concerned about myself. I never really cared for anything other than my rep as the best shot in the 105th. After that mission with the Spartan was over, that changed. Everything changed.

[Edited on 12.05.2009 1:45 PM PST]

  • 11.27.2009 1:25 PM PDT
Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part one is up! (not the prologue!)
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No matter how many seals are killed by sharks a year, it never seems to be enough :D

Posted by: Huvergador
No one ever paid any attention to the other one.

And, I understand you like Romance, Major? Not to worry, this will have plenty of it, if that's what you're hoping for.


:D ROMANCE FTW!!! I'll start reading this as soon as i can. I have company atm. But yea. Seems like this is going quite well. Stick with this though, even if comments go down, just keep pluggin and they will come back.

  • 11.27.2009 2:03 PM PDT
Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part three "The High" is up! + Edit!
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Part Three: The High . . .

Cortez unfolded a map of the area printed from one of our drones and placed it on the ground. "The logistics and refueling base is here," he explained, pointing towards an area on the map. "We're here," he pointed out, tracing his hand along the map. From the looks of it, we were far from our objective. "The Prophet will be coming in on exactly zero-eight hundred." He stopped to process evetything. "Hmm, we'll need a clear shot from this location" - he pointed at the map -"and we've got to hit him as soon as he's exiting that ship. It's two miles from the target, and should give us the elevation of the shot." He sighed. "It's pretty far, but it will give us enough cover to make our extraction."

Our mission had been to assassinate a Prophet in a fueling depot from an elevated location - then haul ass before things got hot. Not too hard of a mission, I had thought . . . I was wrong.

I grunted, eyeing the Spartan in disgust. He had been gazing out into the land, making sure for enemies. "Assuming the Spartan can make the shot, that is . . ." I grumbled. My fellow ODSTs ignored the gesture.

"And if we don't make it to the target in time?" Dutch asked, crouched over the map.

Cortez looked up. "There won't be any second chances."

I looked over the valley, then down at the map again. "It's a long-ass march." I noted.

Dutch turned to me, clapping me on the back. "Then we better get marching, then."

"Affirmitive. Dutch, you got reer. O'Brian, follow me. The Spartan will take point." Cortez ordered.

I nodded, leveled my BR-55, and watched as the Spartan immidiately took off without us. "Do you mind waiting up?" I asked drily. Then, only so Cortez and Dutch could hear: "Some of us aren't cyber-genetic freaks."

Cortez pulled into a private channel with me. "Quit it, O'Brian." he warned. I grunted in response, and began following, watching the Spartan with eyes of disdain.



We began the march sometime during the night. We climbed mountains, chopped through forests, and crossed rapid rivers. We finally had our first contact after night had turned to day. The Spartan had been leading the way the entire time. He came to a small hill, pulling out some binoculars. Cortez, Dutch, and I waited impatiently - or atleast I did - while the green giant scouted things out.

I twisted my head to get a better view - then noticed the lens cap on the binoculars was still on. "Wanna take the lens cap off?" I offered bluntly.

Cortez turned to me. "Knock it off, O'Brian," he warned a second time. I shrugged - I was well aware that the binoculars were electronically responding to the Spartan's Visor . . . but that didn't stop me from being an ass. The Spartan signlaed us forward, confirming hostiles. He moved in, pulling behind some brush of the thick jungle, trying to steal a look.

All I could see were grunts . . . and some strange ruins. Cortez had ordered us to take pictures of the ruins - apparently they weren't Covenant. And they sure as hell weren't human. The Sprtan moved forward, getting another look from a different angle. He signaled us to move in quietly, and take the grunts out. I shrugged, moving from tree to tree, trying to get a better position.

I took cover behind some brush, daring a peak. On the other side was a grunt, patroling. I removed myself from cover to fire on him . . . but not without a loud snap! sounding below me. I gasped, then looked down at my feet - I had broken a twig in two. With a grimace, I aimed my weapon on the grunt, who was now aware and very, very, frightened of me. I squeezed the trigger, and let bullets fly. The alien bastard fell in a pool of it's own blood right as a very loud roar sounded from behind me.

I jumped, leveling my rifle, only to meet the gaze of the Spartan . . . hand grasping the stem of a Brute Chieftan's gravity hammer. The ape had planned on smashing me. If not for the Spartan, I would have been dead. The Brute let out another roar, and flinged the Spartan into the air. The green giant collided with me, sending me flying a few meters back. I fell into the steep slope of a hill, and began tumbling, desperately trying to grab ahold of something to stop my momentum.

Finally, my fingers grasped a root, but the ground below me wasn't there. I tried to make sense of what was going on - then I realized: I had been hanging off the side of a cliff, a river below me, feeding into a waterfall - with a very large drop. I held on for dear life. If I feel, the rapid would take me easily, launching me to my death. I tried to pull myself up, to no avail.

It was then when I noticed the Spartan in hand-to-hand combat with the Brute. It was insanity. No one had ever lived hand-to-hand combat with a Brute. Admittedly, I felt bad for the Spartan. I had thought he wasn't going to make it - that he was going to die, all over the sake of protecting me.

But that wasn't the case. Unbelievably, the Spartan was winning. The two wrestled in the rapids, exchanging swings and punches. Tha Spartan cornered the Brute, pushing him back towards the waterfall. They were almost right below me. I watched intently - so intently, in fact, that I hadn't even noticed the root I had been holding on to gave away. I feel, crying for help. The rapids took me as soon as I plummeted into the river, aiming me towards the waterfall.

I dug my hands into the water, hoping to grab ahold of something. I did, but just like before, the ground wasn't underneath me. I was holding onto a rock, which had been jutting out where the water fell into the great drop below. If I lost my grip this time - I was dead. I swallowed as my SRS Sniper Rifle slipped off my back, and into the water below. Now, I wouldn't even be backup. I ignored it for the time being.

A sharp scream sounded above me, and I noticed the Brute which had been locked in combat with the Spartan. The scream got quieter, and quieter, until I heard a satisfying splash!

I couldn't believe it. The Spartan had actually thrown the Brute off of the waterfall. I held on for dear life, not letting the short victory get to me. My glip had just been about to slip . . . until a hand reached out and grabbed me. It was the Spartan's hand. He pulled me up, and cradled me as though I were a child. I gave a silent thanks, and let my heartbeat slow down. I met the gazes of Cortez and Dutch, and immidiately regained my composure.

"Put me down, I'm not crippled!" I yelled, shoving away from the Spartan. He complied, setting me gently to my feet. I tugged away, looking at the Spartan in disgust again.

Had I really been that arrogant? The thought of thanking Cal-141 had never even crossed my mind. Could I really have been so selfish?

"You whine any louder, this place will be crawling with Covenant." Dutch mocked, pulling to my side.

I grunted. "Shut your mouth! He just got lucky."

Whether or not I had been talking about the Brute or the Spartan at the time was beyond me . . . but by the time I came to truly appreciate Cal-141, it was too late. And I've always regereted it . . .

[Edited on 12.04.2009 6:01 PM PST]

  • 12.01.2009 3:39 PM PDT
Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part one is up! (not the prologue!)

Couldn't you have just summed the episode up with O'Brian thinking slightly back to the past? Rather than writing a rather tedious novelisation of the episode.

Other than that, good.

  • 12.01.2009 3:43 PM PDT
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No.

You'll see - this is how the story is going to work... slight spoilers, but oh well.

It starts of from "The Babysitter", and will tell the story of the ENTIRE episode, and more, including what happens AFTER they kill the Prophet. (Like how theu got extracted, and all that.) It will then leap into a whole new, original plot, concerning the Babysitter episode.

At the end of the novel, it will return back to the prologue, and back to present time. The entire story is about O'Brian remebering how he got himself into the mess he was in on the Prologue. You'll see how it unfolds.

  • 12.01.2009 3:49 PM PDT
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No matter how many seals are killed by sharks a year, it never seems to be enough :D

I just read the prologue.

Now I know what you must give to be the best.

Everything.


That gave me shivers :D I loved that line!!! Great stuff man :D

  • 12.01.2009 5:58 PM PDT
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Lol, thanks.

Make sure to read the rest? I know you like romance, Major, so you'll really wanna pay attention to the next few chapters!

  • 12.04.2009 5:59 PM PDT
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Part Four: . . . And The Low

Cortez had given us five minutes to take photographs of the ruins. I chose to use the time to pout, instead of actually doing the objective. I was starting to hate the Spartan more and more by the second. I knew Cal had already saved my life twice . . . but that's probably what ticked me off the most. I had a babysitter.

"That's twice," a voice called from behind. I turned, only to meet the mirrored visor of Dutch. "Twice he saved your dumb ass already." He nudged me with a laugh. "You could atleast say thank you." I grunted, about to respond, but stopped. There was no point in trying to argue with Dutch. He was right, after all. I just wish I had known that at the time.

"All right, everybody," Cortez shouted out. "Let's get moving."

I hefted my BR-55, and shoved Dutch intentionally as I walked by him. Without a word, I joined Cortez and the Spartan, grumbling occasionally to myself along every step of the way.



The next hour of traveling was difficult. Whoever these aliens were, they must have been huge . . . because the steps on the stair cases were about as tall as I was. I groaned, and continued to climb. We were almost to our location. The Prophet would be landing in about fifteen minutes. No time to waste.

Cal-141 hauled me over the last stair, setting me to my feet. I quickly retracted with a look of disgust underneath my helmet. He ignored my gesture, and coninued to walk, walong with Dutch and Cortez. I sighed, cursed, and followed them. We turned the corner, finally arriving at our destination.

"This is it." Cortez explained, voice quiet. Everyone was quiet - even the Spartan, who hadn't spoken a single word seemed to be more silent than usual. The entire mission relied on these next few moments - relied on taking the shot, and taking it right.

The location was in a cavern-like dome, the alien architect making up the wall to the left, with a large window overlooking the valley. Everyone peered out over the valley, getting a good look. In the distance, nearly two miles away, a lengthly line of Covenant personnel stood at attention, awaiting their Prophet. "THe shuttle will be touching down in two minutes," Cortez informed quietly, checking his watch.

Cal-141 waisted no time - he immidiatly set up shop, placing the SRS Sniper Rifle on it's stands in a fixed position, switching it to high-caliber. I watched with an annoyed expression. "After all of this, they better be everything they said he was . . . " I whispered to myself.

The Spartan looked through the scope, awaiting the Phantom to touch down, along with the Prophet. I removed my binculars, and watched intently. Half of me was wanting the Spartan to miss . . . for whatever reason, I don't know.

Two phantoms touched down, one of them dropping off the Prophet . . . the bastard we were supposed to kill. I kept watching, waiting for Cal to take the shot, until suddenly, Cal turned, knocking me to the floor.

"What the hell--!?" I started, getting cut short by my sudden hit to the floor. I turned, only to see the Gravity Hammer of a Brute Chieftan - the same one from before - colide with the Spartan's head where I had just been standing moments ago. Cal's helmet sparked, then his body went limp, falling to the floor. It took me a few seconds to register what just happened, then it hit me.

Cal-141 had just saved my life . . . again.

"Take him down!" Cortez ordered, tackling the Chieftan in the leg. I recovered, and grabbed ahold of the other. With his legs encumbered with a burden, Dutch tackled the Brute in the chest, sending him sprawling to the floor. Before the bastard could recover, DUtch was on top of him. He lifted his M7, then riddled the Chieftan's face full of holes. The Brute gurgled, then relaxed, dead on the covern floor.

Without hesitation, Cortez cursed, running to the Spartan. He grabbed ahold of his helmet, then pulled it free to check how bad the damage was. Everyone's eyes shot wide at what they saw. Cal turned to us, hair covering most of his - no. her face. She had the palest skin I've ever seen, as well as snow-white hair, trailing down her back. She was beautiful. I seemed to have been lost in her eyes, gazing with disbelief. Cal had been a woman the entire time.

"Take the shot," Cal ordered. "O'Brian,now! You're the only one who can do it!" I stood there like an idiot for a second or two, then nodded, expression serious. I turned, the slid where the Sniper Rifle had been set up. I took it into my hands, aimed down the sights, and looked for the Prophet. The crosshair resided on his head a moment, then I aimed it a little ahead, expecting the wind to carry it back a bit.

I counted my heartbeats. One . . . two . . . three.

My finger closed around the trigger, and the shot screamed in the air like a banshee as it traveled over the valley. My heart started beating faster and faster . . . and I watched as the Prophet was hit clean in the head, ending his pathetic life. The Covenant surrounding the Prophet all jumped in horror, then studied the position where the shot had come from. Roars of mourning could be heard throughout the valley.

I rejoined Dutch and Cortez, who had removed their helmets, and were both stnading over Cal, sad expressions on their faces. I took off my helmet as well, and gazed with sad eyes. Cal's hair was soaked with her own blood, and dripping into a crimson pool around her. She retrieved something from her suit, and held it up, indicating Cortez to take it.

"It's the data." she said. "On the ruins." She took Cortez's hand, and placed the chip in it. "Tell them . . . " Cal grunted in pain, "To get it to Halsey . . . she'll know." Another grunt of pain.

Cortez shook his head. "No. You give it to her."

Cal smiled, and laughed. "We both know . . . that's . . . that's not going to be possible . . . " She turned away from Cortez, and met my gaze. I was staring at her like a moron. I had been so selfish, so naive . . . and now I had regretted every single bit of the way I had been acting. She smiled one last time, and her muscles tensed. \

Cal-141 was dead.

Silence lasted for nearly five minutes after her death. Tears welled in my eyes, as well as Dutch's and Cortez's. This wasn't just a symbol of our mourning for Cal, but also a mourning for ourselves. The Spartan's were the only hope Humanity had, and they were portrayed to be unbeatable. That wasn't the case. We just watched a Spartan die right in front of our eyes. What hope did we truly have?

The silence was broken by the roar of a Phantom. It pulled into the window, and sprayed at us with plasma from it's cannon. We took cover instinctively, then ran for the exit, leaving Cal's body behind. We kept on running until we arrived at the staircase again. Cortez ordered us to stop.

"You two okay?" he asked, catching his breath. Dutch remained silent. "How about you, O'Brian?" he asked with concern, facing me. Out of the three of us, I was having the hardest time with this . . . guilt had been heavily placed on my chest, and I hadn't expected it to go away any time soon.

"Are we going to gossip, or get the hell out of here?" I barked spitefully. Cortez nodded, understanding my rude comment. Now wasn't the time for contradiction - and I did make a valuable point. The Covenant would be on our asses any moment now.

"Dutch, take point. Evac is still a couple miles off . . . we may still make it." Dutch complied, hopping down the steps, one at a time. Cortez followed. I stood there a few moments, recollecting things. Cal was dead.

What hope did Humanity truly have?

  • 12.05.2009 2:42 PM PDT

Very good.

  • 12.05.2009 4:19 PM PDT
Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part four "And The Low" is up! 12/5!
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  • Exalted Legendary Member

Some can come away from reading "War and Peace" thinking it a simple adventure story, while others can read the ingredients on a gum wrapper and unlock the secrets of the universe.

Sorry, but to me that sounded way to... cheesy. It didn't flow well for some reason.

*shoots self*

  • 12.05.2009 4:54 PM PDT
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Not my fault. Based after the Halo Legends episode.

  • 12.05.2009 8:37 PM PDT
Subject: [FanFic] Rememberence - part one is up! (not the prologue!)
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No matter how many seals are killed by sharks a year, it never seems to be enough :D

I just read part two. Great stuff! I love how he hates Spartans, and his young cockyness.

  • 12.07.2009 10:26 AM PDT
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Lol. Thanks.

And remember - this part of the story is based after "the babysitter".

  • 12.09.2009 4:32 PM PDT

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