- POMC S117 Owns
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- Honorable Member
Chapter 8 - Raining Rings
The crack of the Space Elevator ripping in two was deafening and the damage was catastrophic.
Rolek's head shot up in the air and he saw the Assualt Carrier drift away, inoccently and slowly. He watched as flaming rings and hoops cascaded from the sky. Towering clouds of dust covered the horizon, making it near impossible to see.
Rolek hit the deck as a hoop flew towards the critically disabled Malarek, the pre-occupied Spartan and him.
Fires thrived in the few areas that the Covenant had left untouched and intact, ravaging the buildings.
*
Fringlek groaned and yelled, trying to lift the abnormally large chunk of marble off of his legs. He heard frantic, terrified screaming and shouting. He was sure he could feel glowering, hot flames tickle his fingers.
Sirens whined outside the demolished, wasted building and a large clattering of footsteps accumulated outside. A rescue worker was brandishing a long, formidable axe and was attempting to smash through an unintentional barricade, created by the vicious vilivication and henious destruction.
1 MONTH PRIOR
Lt. Colenel Ackerson was sitting comftabley at his long, lavish, teak desk, typing labouriously on a keyboard. He had a spreadsheet-like document on the screen of the old, outdated Windows 56, and at the top of the list was the word Harvest with a small, rectangular, orange box beside it, indicating that it was either dangerous or insurgent activity had been reported.
He clicked on the word and dragged it into a folder labelled: " Send instant Task Force to investigate."
As soon as he let go of the mouse the compact, white, metal printer turned on automatically and began printing two sheets of important, confidential paper, one contained a list of unsafe or unloyal planets and the other held a short list of names.
At the top was Captain Rolek, two lieutenants, Malarek and Sweeney, Tommy Delerick, James Jameson and John Fringlek.
It also had private, informative information about the soldiers, including top-secret missions.
He lifted his hand over to reach his communicator, that lay idle on the table, and took it to his wet lips.
"Send 'em in." He ordered to his secretary.
*
The Spartan ducked as the raging Elite flailed about, trying to rip out a UNSC Combat Knife from its neck.
The Spartan then head butted the Elite as it shimmered, turning invisible. He compensated for this by tossing a grenade deftly so that it had to roll behind a fallen beam of painted steel.
Unbeknownst to the brutally vicious and tactical Spartan, the Elites fellow squad member had lined up behind him and was currently training its Plasma Rifle on him.
The Spartan sensed that something wasn't right and somersaulted foward as the Elite fired a deadly burst of killing plasma.
The Elite whipped his rifle to the left, re-aiming on the Spartan and released an uncontrolled spray of Covenant ammunition.
This time the fearless warrior was caught on unawares and the plasma drove into his back and he was thrown to the ground.
Laughing mockingly, the skilled assailant taunted the damaged Spartan viciously, sneering and jeering personal insults.
Its aide scrambled slowly to its feet and began to join in with his commander.
The Spartan was a pathetic, pitible figure, slouched on the cold, dusty wasteland of crippled buildings and establishments and breathing and heaving heavily.
What was once a towering fighter, striking fear into its enemy, ending battles with a single, predatory stare of pure justice, was now damaged goods, an ex-veteran and a fallen king.
"I will let you suffer. And it will be slow, slower than how long it takes for a mountain to grow or slower than how long it takes for a star to spark and begin to burn." Threatened the Elite maliciously. "I will make sure of that."
He then turned to his companion and told him to go away, which it done rapidly.
By then the Spartan had recouporateed enough to speak.
"Will you?" He said. "Where is the justice in that. If you do mercy killing then you should take your blade and smite yourself with it. It will not be a wasteful act like you usually commit."
"Your petty words of resistance will no longer help you, but hinder you they will." The Elite replied. "I have no time to listen to you, your defiant insolence must be hacked down like a withered tree."
"Well bring down your axe on me and see if I fall, but I won't for as long as my race lives on and there is one human left breathing I will stand strong and upright." The Spartansaid poetically and patriot-like.
"Your words are full of wisdom but it won't stop me slaughtering you and your friends for I am superior." The Elite retorted haughtily
The Elite lifted up it's ornate, intricate weapon and began to press it down towards the Spartan.
Suddenly an ear-burstingly loud shot rang out and the Elite fell to the ground and lay still.
The Spartan looked around and saw nothing other than Rolek trying to revive a criticaly conditioned Malarek and dust and sand enveloping the horizon.
Then, out of nowhere, a Pelican loomed above a broken, crumbled building. A sniper at the opened doors of the "blood tray".
"Need a lift!" Asked one of the passengers cheekily.
The Spartan had almost forgoten about the second Elite, however he needn't have cared for the sniper, that had already been his saviour or guardian angel once, shot the Elite.
The large bullet sped fowards and penetrated the first layer of the armour before plunging right through the neck of the alien and cutting through the back where it stopped with a tremendous force of kinetic energy that forced the Elite to twist backwards and smash its head on the floor.
*
Fringlek moaned, groaned and protested as the crowd of rescuers swarmed around him in a desparate atempt to save him.
The reason for this being that for them to save him they would have to saw off his legs.
"Don't worry. We'll get you a pair of flash cloned legs in no time." Said one of them comfortingly.
He didn't listen or care. He would be an outcast if he returned home. Just like his unfortunate father who was ridiculed after he lost his legs to a group of rebels on Harvest.
That was partly the reason he was here. Revenge. Also it because his commanding officer, Ackerson, wanted them to recover an artifact. Alledgedly from an ancient alien race. Well that was disrupted when that alien ship landed.
The aliens then swept from the ship and covered the land in desruction like a flood. Brutal, fast and efficient.
[Edited on 12.07.2010 11:46 AM PST]