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This topic has moved here: Subject: [STORY] Recon Squad *Prologue only (ATM)*
  • Subject: [STORY] Recon Squad *Prologue only (ATM)*
Subject: [STORY] Recon Squad *Prologue only (ATM)*

Alright, here I go again. Just a little plot that I've been cooking. Hope you enjoy the first part.

The icy coldness bit at the ODSTs' flesh as they lay on their fronts in the snow. They looked on at the chrome structure from above. It was built into the cliff-face and was almost as high. The leader was looking through a sniper at a lone figure standing in the entrance.

"What am I looking at?" The gruff voice of the Sergeant called through the comm. "Establish visual uplink"

On the other end, a uniformed intelligence operator sat at his computer. The image flickered on; a direct, live uplink of the Sergeants HUD. The operator took his time and rubbed his chin. The figure was sheathed in some kind of chrome armour, with sharp angles that reflected the bright sun into every direction. It had a neon blue trim, with some sort of pulsating energy flowing through it. The thing looked hostile, but both the operator and the Sergeant knew better than to attack an unidentified article.

"Err... I don't personally recognise the article Sergeant, but I am comparing it with records stored on the database. Please be patient, it won't take long"

The Sergeant grunted. The figure was standing perfectly still, and he wondered whether it was alive at all, or whether it had been frozen by the chill winds that swept through the area at gale force permanently. There was no way this planet was habitable for any species, the Sergeant mused. Suddenly, his ears were alive with the nasally voice of the operator.

"No match Sergeant. You have a warrant to engage in self-defence i.e. if you are attacked first. I've run a quick check and the creature bears human resemblance in terms of bone structure and muscle structure, although its muscles are significantly larger than that of even a Spartan."

The Sergeant grunted in appreciation. One of the ODSTs shifted, knocking a large rock down the cliff face. He cursed. Even the tiniest noise was amplified in the acoustic, bowl-like formation of the land; it was not surprising that the figure turned sharply and looked at the squad. The creature clenched its fists, and even from some two hundred metres away, the ODSTs heard its knuckles click. It was wearing some kind of helmet that only had narrow slits for eye-holes, giving it a menacing appearance.

The Sergeant cursed and loaded the sniper, simultaneously prompting his squad to prepare for combat. They reached for their weapons and took aim, hands shaking. Behind the Sergeants visor, beads of sweat were beginning to trickle down from his forehead. It was a difficult thing to do; prepare for assault on an unidentified creature. Last time, it had not gone so well. The Sergeant shook his head as he remembered the stories, the battles and the people. The stories of Harvest flashed back to him.

The figure raised its arm, and through the scope the Sergeant could see that mysterious neon blue energy was channelling through the trim towards the raised fist. In a split second, all the amassed energy was discharged in a single bolt. The Sergeant rolled to the side as the bolt hit where he had just been lying, and watched in horror as a large portion of the cliff was vaporized. The operator stood gaping at the screen.

"Sergeant, you must evacuate! Visual diagnostics show that the energy the article is using is ionised plasma. If by some miracle it doesn't kill you, the cancerous side effect will. Do not engage, I repeat, do not engage!"

Reacting to the urgent cries of the operator, the entire crew on deck crowded around the single screen, and watched in despair. The ODSTs attempted to pull back, but three of them were killed. They were struck by bolts; their skeletons showing through their armour as the ionised plasma charge engulfed them. Then they lay lifeless and cold.

The Sergeants voice could be heard through the crackling radio: "Fall back! Fall back!" But through the crowd that had gathered to watch the ordeal, a bearded man dressed in white Navy uniform strode. He grabbed hold of the microphone the operator was using to communicate with, and shouted down it harshly.

"Overruled Sergeant, you are to proceed to the distress beacon. Do not retreat, or I'll court marshal all your asses. Now get a move on; you know he wouldn't desert you!"
The Sergeant gulped. "Lord Hood, with all due respect, we must pull back!"

"Negative! Follow your orders!"

The Sergeant looked at his comrades and let out a deep sigh. They were out of sight for now, and they tried to collect themselves. They wept for their comrades, and for the inevitable events that lay ahead.

"Stick to the plan guys; proceed to Sierra 117's distress beacon and wait for transport."

  • 05.27.2010 9:21 AM PDT