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  • Subject: Halo: The Second Insurrection Prolouge: (PART SIX UP!!!!!!!)
Subject: Halo: The Second Insurrection Prolouge: (PART SIX UP!!!!!!!)

This post will be updated with chapters of the prolouge of my fanfic, Halo: The Second Insurrection. It follows the tale of Gold Squad, a band of Spartan IIIs that are put together during the Battle for Reach. It tells of thier attempt to destroy the now Covenant controled SWORD Base. Remember that this is a prolouge, not the actual story. I will make a separate thread for that. Please give feedback!
Thank You,
Thel Vaddam


[Edited on 02.11.2011 3:54 PM PST]

  • 01.24.2011 3:22 PM PDT
Subject: Halo: The Second Insurrection Prolouge

"I will show you how a true Prussian officer fights!"

"And i will show you where the iron crosses grow..."

- "Cross of Iron"

I know its "second insurrection" but watch your title because we already have a major completed halo fan fic by Wolverfrog named Halo Insurrection. Just thought id let you know.

  • 01.24.2011 7:32 PM PDT

Posted by: Dropship dude
No, acnboy. Spartain Ken 15 is a lesser being. Much like the bacteria that lives in your shi­t.
Posted by: mike120593
My shi­t bacteria takes offense to that comparison.

Don't make me lel. You won't like me when I lel.

Yeah, I think you might want to give it a name-change if you want to post it here.

  • 01.25.2011 3:35 AM PDT

*Sends goons around to break legs*

;)

I've got no problem with it. It could be a bit misleading but it's not like I've copy-written the title, is it?

Your writing is pretty good, by the way. I enjoyed it. However, I must say that you describe things in a monotonous, unimaginative way.

"He picked up his pistol." "He lit a flare." "Sadness welled up inside him."

I was guilty of the same crime a while ago, and probably still am from time to time, and it's a hard thing to learn, but you should try to make the reader, how can I say this, experience what's going on rather than have it told to them.

Not the most eloquent sentence I've ever written, so I'll give an example.

"He lit a flare."

Could be:

"Sparks leapt from the tip of the glowing flare he had lit moments before, flying freely and cutting through the darkness like erratic fireflies."

Something like that, but less rushed of course. It creates a more vivid image in the reader's mind, and with a story like this you always want to be doing that.

Anyway, you're good at this, so keep writing. Try posting it here too rather than at an external site; you'll get more readers.

Good luck.

[Edited on 01.25.2011 5:01 AM PST]

  • 01.25.2011 5:00 AM PDT
  • gamertag: [none]
  • user homepage:

Posted by: chotato
smart, interesting, seems out of place.


Official fan of Assassin's Creed, Call of Duty, (Problem with that?) Halo, and Bungie, also a total gaming junkie.

Hehe now you're going to get flamed for the title. And COME ON! Spartan Gold Squad? Now I need a new name for my Spartans.

Nice story overall, keep it up.

  • 01.25.2011 5:22 AM PDT

Posted by: Wolverfrog
*Sends goons around to break legs*

;)

I've got no problem with it. It could be a bit misleading but it's not like I've copy-written the title, is it?

Your writing is pretty good, by the way. I enjoyed it. However, I must say that you describe things in a monotonous, unimaginative way.

"He picked up his pistol." "He lit a flare." "Sadness welled up inside him."

I was guilty of the same crime a while ago, and probably still am from time to time, and it's a hard thing to learn, but you should try to make the reader, how can I say this, experience what's going on rather than have it told to them.

Not the most eloquent sentence I've ever written, so I'll give an example.

"He lit a flare."

Could be:

"Sparks leapt from the tip of the glowing flare he had lit moments before, flying freely and cutting through the darkness like erratic fireflies."

Something like that, but less rushed of course. It creates a more vivid image in the reader's mind, and with a story like this you always want to be doing that.

Anyway, you're good at this, so keep writing. Try posting it here too rather than at an external site; you'll get more readers.

Good luck.


The critiqued has become the critic.

  • 01.25.2011 8:35 AM PDT

*Sees Wolverfrog's post*
*Faints*
*Gets up*
Thank you for the encourageing comments! In response to what Wolverfrog said, the site wont let me post the story here. It was the first thing I tried, and it said that there were extended characters that were not allowed. Since you all seem to be so zealous about it, what should I name my story instead of The Second Insurrection?

[Edited on 01.26.2011 6:46 PM PST]

  • 01.26.2011 6:46 PM PDT

-Gr33n Knight

My stories:

Streams of Fire

Jiralhanae

Posted by: Thel Vaddam
*Sees Wolverfrog's post*
*Faints*
*Gets up*
Thank you for the encourageing comments! In response to what Wolverfrog said, the site wont let me post the story here. It was the first thing I tried, and it said that there were extended characters that were not allowed. Since you all seem to be so zealous about it, what should I name my story instead of The Second Insurrection?
The extended characters refer to the slanted quotation marks, commas, and apostrophes that Microsoft Word, and other similar programs include when you type. I had the exact same problem when I first posted my story.

Copy and paste your story HERE and click convert. That should get rid of the extended characters all together. I would simply read through it first, just to make sure nothing strange happened to it while converting.

I also have no advice to give yet. The page you linked to will not open for me, for some reason.

[Edited on 01.27.2011 1:11 PM PST]

  • 01.27.2011 1:09 PM PDT

Posted by: Dropship dude
No, acnboy. Spartain Ken 15 is a lesser being. Much like the bacteria that lives in your shi­t.
Posted by: mike120593
My shi­t bacteria takes offense to that comparison.

Don't make me lel. You won't like me when I lel.

Posted by: Thel Vaddam
Since you all seem to be so zealous about it, what should I name my story instead of The Second Insurrection?
Well if Wolvers says it's fine, you don't have to worry about changing it. I think this has happened before with a different outcome, which is why I suggested the change.

  • 01.27.2011 1:36 PM PDT

I
City of New Alexandria
Planet Reach
August 23, 2552

SPARTAN A515 removed his Hazop helmet with CNM-I attachment and placed it on the desk beside him. He had just finished evacuating civilians or "civies", as he liked to call them, from Traxus Tower. He sat down in a chair next to the table and surveyed his surroundings.

No matter where he looked, all he could see were smoldering ruins. Bodies of human and Covenant troops littered the floor around him. The civies were safe, but New Alexandria was in ruins. Noble Team was here, if anyone could fix the massive situation they were in, it was them.
He looked up at the sky. What was once a beautiful, bright blue sky had been ruined by Covenant aircraft. They came by the thousands, eliminating everything in sight. All of this for some stupid artifacts? 515 thought. Soon, they will begin glassing everything in sight; I'm dead if I don't get out of here.

He had lost contact with all other members of his squad, all six of them, about an hour ago. "Blue 2, this is Blue Leader, do you copy?" He waited for a minute, then two. No response. "Blue 2, do you copy?" Nothing. "Blue Team, this is Blue Leader, is anyone out there?" Static echoed over his comlink. The blades of sadness and depression cut though his usually iron-hard heart like a hot knife through butter. What did I do wrong? Matthew, Alexis, Nico, Vanessa, William, and Gary; I'm sorry. I let you all down. John-117 always said that a leader must be ready to spend lives to complete a mission, were your lives spent, or wasted? You trusted me with your lives and if I wasted them, then I am an incompetent leader. If I spent them, then I must make sure that not one of you died in vain.

He rose from the chair he was sitting in, attempting to forget about his lost team. It's war, right? People are going to die. But try as he might, those feelings would not go away. He put his helmet back on, grabbed his Designated Marksman Rifle (DMR), reloaded it, checked his pistol and grenades, and walked out the door and onto the concourse. He took a flare out of his pocket, lit it, and let the bright red smoke come pouring out, the sparks flew from the lit tip, singeing the grass beneath his feet. Over his communications radio, the voice of a fellow Marine reached his ears.

"Blue Leader, we see you, stay where you are, we're coming to pick you up." He relaxed. He was leaving this doomed city. A Pelican appeared overhead, beginning to land. He saw the first Covenant Corvette begin glass the city. He imagined any remaining humans, screaming in agony and pain as the heat and pain of ten thousand suns engulfed them. He thought of the massive casualties that had occurred on this day, including his own team.

515 was a SPARTAN; a super solider made to serve for the UNSC. He had been physically altered through a series of surgical procedures, which less than half of the subjects survived. He was lucky; many of the doctors and scientists thought that he was going to die. Since the day he woke up in his bed after the augmentation, he valued every day that he was fortunate enough to live, unlike so many other of his brothers.

As the Pelican took off, 515 felt a feeling he had felt only one time before. Fear. Reach is our military stronghold, if it falls, humanity's screwed. So far, we've been losing. I cannot allow Reach to fall. I might be only one man, but I am a SPARTAN. This is what I was made for. As the city of New Alexandria and everything that lived on it was glassed and destroyed, 515 drifted to sleep, knowing that he had made it out of another death sentence.




[Edited on 01.27.2011 3:12 PM PST]

  • 01.27.2011 1:47 PM PDT

Fixed it. Now I can post all the chapters right here.

  • 01.27.2011 1:48 PM PDT

II
CASTLE Base
Planet Reach
August

SPARTAN G-805 was impatient. He had been cleaning his ODST MJOLNIR Assault Armor for thirty minutes now, waiting to know why he had been called to this meeting. Colonel William Abraham had called this meeting, and he still wasn't here. I could be sniping the heads off of Grunts right now. It's so much fun to watch them squirm and die. Instead, I have to be here, sitting in this room with four other SPARTANS, none of which I know. He checked his helmet. Not a scratch, nor dust speck, nor bullet hole, was on it. That was how he liked his equipment, like it had just been made, clean and shiny.
He looked around the room, to his left, he saw a SPARTAN III, clad in blue and orange armor. Hazop helmet with CMN-I attachment, Tactical/Patrol breastplate, TACPAD, this guy is obviously high up there. He thought. The SPARTAN sat alone, looking around at the other SPARTANS in the room. He looked like someone who had just been through something bad. Really bad.

805 moved to the next one, directly across from him. This one had an EOD helmet, a Collar/grenadier chest piece, and EVA shoulder pieces. Unlike 805, his armor was severely battered and dented. How can he keep his armor like that? Does he have no respect for himself or the people who made it? The man was sharpening his knife off of his breastplate. "Disgusting." He said under his breath. He went back to cleaning his visor, fuming that someone could do such a crime.

515 had been looking around at the group of men that sat in the room. The one to his right was an ODST SPARTAN, with green and red armor, who obviously hated having a dirty helmet. He was fidgeting in his chair. 515 had noticed that he had been looking at the other SPARTANS as well, also looking around the room for a place of ambush. The signs of a sniper. Then there were the ones on the other side of the room. The first one was super bulky, with an EOD helmet. His armor was brown, but 515 wasn't sure that was its true color. The armor was pretty beat-up. This man loved to show his battle scars.
He looked to that man's left. There was a SPARTAN with yellow and black armor. He had a Grenadier helmet and UA/Multithreat chest piece. He sat in his chair, super still, like a good soldier. If he wasn't talking with the other SPARTANS, 515 could have sworn the man was a statue, almost like a modern-day Thinker. He was talking to the battered SPARTAN. They must have been from the same company. Also in the group was another SPARTAN, this one with white and red armor. He wore a JFO helmet and Assault/Sapper armor on his chest. He was the liveliest out of the little group, telling jokes and stories. He made the other two SPARTANS laugh, something 515 hadn't done since he had lost his first team two years ago.

The memories flooded through his mind. They were on a mission to destroy a Covenant Corvette. His team had been given two large nukes to do the job. Rod, their demolitions expert, had planted the bombs and primed them for detonation. He could see them, running down a corridor to the Longsword fighters that were waiting for them in the hangar. He saw them turn the corner, only to meet a group of twelve Elites, all of which were Zealot class. He put Rod at point, and placed himself in the back. Big mistake. The Elites saw them, and instantly pull out and ignited their energy swords, which they promptly put into the backs of the other SPARTANS. 515 was still standing where he had been, at the back, where the Elites couldn't see him. As soon as they left, he moved toward the hangar, focusing only on his survival, not anyone else's. Only when he took off in the Longsword did he realize what had happened. His squad was dead because of his selfish intentions. Furthermore, he couldn't detonate the nukes without the firing codes, which were still on Rod, his body already beginning to rot inside the Corvette. None of them could even be given a proper burial. No, instead they were to be sent out of the Corvette's airlock with the rest of the garbage and waste. After that he unofficially changed his call tag number from 068 to 515, a sign that he was putting his past mistakes behind him. He was the one who had caused their deaths.

He was jolted out of his painful thoughts when Colonel Abraham walked into the room, accompanied by another SPARTAN, this one in purple and black armor. He had a CQB helmet and a Collar/Grenadier chest plate. He was massive, probably the biggest SPARTAN 515 had ever seen. He sat down at the chair closest to Abraham.

515 and the other SPARTANS began to stand at attention, when Abraham put his hand up. "At ease, SPARTANS." He walked around the room, looking at every SPARTAN. "You have been chosen for a very important mission. The Covenant has SWORD Base. Intel says that they are preparing for one final strike against ONI. Your job is to infiltrate the Base and take it out." Simple, 515 thought, almost too simple. There's got to be a catch. "I must warn you, Intel tells us that they have the largest fighting force that we might see this whole war, about ten thousand infantry alone, not to mention aircraft and vehicles." There it is. I wonder who's in command of this little group.

Just then, as if he could read minds, Abraham said, "Now, you all are wondering who your leader will be. All of you are capable of the job, but after much consideration, we decided that Andrew will be the one to lead you on this mission."
515 was shocked. He had been chosen! A third chance. This time I will bring all of my squad home, even if I have to die. This time, I will not fail.[/u] He got up from his chair, waved, and then sat back down. The other SPARTANS showed mixed reactions. The ODST and the battered SPARTAN waved back. [i]They seem like the friendly type. 515 thought. The other three SPARTANS either grunted or turned their backs. He could hear the SPARTAN in purple and black armor muttering under his breath. "He's let two of his teams die, and now I'm the next pawn to be sacrificed? If he tries to send me on a suicide mission, I'll shoot him where he stands."

Abraham obviously heard this, because he said, "I can assure all of you that even though his past history doesn't show it, Andrew is one of the best leaders in the SPARTAN III program. He has had to make some very difficult choices during his service, and I can assure all of you that this time, he has made a promise to ONI that all of you will get home safely. Now then, I have other things to do, so I shall leave you to become acquainted".

515 turned to the other SPARTANS. "Alright, you heard the man; I'm Andrew, SPARTAN 515. I have served in the SPARTAN Program since I was seven, and hope that we can get along. I haven't gotten a chance to look at any of your files yet; heck, I didn't even think I'd be leading you." He chuckled. Great show of self confidence, Andrew. He turned back to the SPARTANS, newly under his command. Under each of their helmets was either a look of contempt, awkwardness, or a blank stare. 515 sighed, already knowing that he had started off on the wrong foot with his squad. He regretted that last comment; sure that he would never earn their respect now. "Ok, who wants to go next?"
The ODST raised his hand. "I'm Mark. I was inducted in the SPARTAN Program when I was six. After my training, I was sent to the ODST marines to further hone my skills. I took interest as a sniper, and it has been said that my skills rival that of Jun on Noble Team. I'm glad to be here, and I can't wait to see action again.

"Nice to meet you Mark. Who's next?"

The brown, beaten-up SPARTAN spoke. "My name is Gage. I like to blow things up. That would explain why I am a demolitions expert. I was the one that detonated the five nukes in the battle of Bevin," At this, there were a lot of nods and looks of surprises. Bevin was a city in Jericho IV, which was assaulted and glassed by Covenant forces. If what this SPARTAN said was true, he saved more lives that day than all other SPARTANS save in a year. "I hope that we get to do greater things than that."

Andrew nodded. "Glad to have your skill set. Now then, which of you wants to go next?"

The SPARTAN in black and yellow stepped forward. "I'm Kale. I am a hacker. I've been a SPARTAN since I was eight. Don't ask me to say anything else."

"Very well, Kale. Who's next? How about you, the one in the JFO helmet?"

The white SPARTAN stood up. "Call me Ethan. Kale and I were best friends until we were abducted. Luckily, we were put in the same company. We had..."

The purple and black SPARTAN spoke. "We don't need a life story, just get on with it."

"Yes, yes of course." Ethan stammered. "Anyway, I drive. That's about it."

Andrew turned to the last SPARTAN. "How about you?"

He looked back at Andrew. "Tyler. Been in the program since I was six. I specialize in close-quarters combat. And let me tell you something. Just because you're my leader doesn't mean I'm going to die for you. Everyone here has heard about you. A failure, that's what you are to me. I refuse to go on any suicide missions that you try to put us through. All of you leave me alone, and stay out of my way."

Tyler walked out of the room. This is what I get? 515
thought. How are we ever going to be a team with most of us being eager to be here, except for Tyler, who'd rather be dead?


[Edited on 01.27.2011 3:14 PM PST]

  • 01.27.2011 1:58 PM PDT

III

515 was sitting in the passenger seat in the Warthog, twirling his knife in his hand. Ethan was driving, and Gage was on the turret. As SWORD Base approached, he looked down at his helmet, staring at his features in the reflection. His blonde hair, cut military style, seemed to be getting whiter every time he took off his helmet. His blue eyes gleamed at the thought of getting back in the action, of defending the planet on which he had spent most of his life. He looked over to the other Warthog, which Tyler and Kale were in. Mark was giving them cover in a Falcon. Since that first meeting the day before, the newly formed Gold Squad had gotten to know each other a little better.

He had learned that Kale, Gage and Ethan had been close friends during their childhood and training. They had been removed from Beta Company immediately after completion of training, along with SPARTANS B-312 and B-320. They were placed in a squad with five other SPARTAN IIs to fight in the Battle of Bevin. He also learned that when Gage detonated the five nukes on those five Covenant Corvettes, he killed the five SPARTAN IIs. Gage had told him everything. "Kale, Ethan, and I were riding away from the Corvettes in a Warthog, waiting for them to give me the signal to detonate those nukes, that they were off those ships, safe from the blast. Then my squad leader, Darren, said that they were having complications. The five of them were on separate Corvettes, one on each. He said that the Covenant had dispatched squads of Elites to deal with them and the nukes. I said, 'Do you want us to come back and provide assistance?' He says no, says that I should carry on with the mission and blow those Corvettes to hell. I argued, told him that they should get off. He said that by the time they got off, they would have disarmed the nukes, and all of the others would be dead. I couldn't bring myself to do it, but then he said that if I didn't do it now, the battle would be lost. I closed my eyes and pushed the button. There was this glow, and it was so bright that I could close my eyes and still see. Once the dust had settled, I started to try to contact anyone that has been on those Co, even though I knew it was futile." 515 remembered how it felt to know that everyone on your squad was dead, when he tried to contact his dead squad on New Alexandria.
Ethan hadn't had as painful a past. He had always been an exceptional soldier, but usually drove the vehicles, and stayed out of the fight. "But I like being out of the heat of battle, it makes me feel safe." He had said. 515 was the exact opposite, always looking for Covenant to kill, always looking for a fight. By now he thought he would be dead, but his luck just kept holding out for him.

Kale wasn't as lucky as Ethan. He'd always been the smartest SPARTAN in the UNSC, and his hacking skills were rumored to be better than B-320, the hacker of Noble Team. Unfortunately, he never had as much of a killer instinct as other SPARTANS, and was chosen more for smarts than battle sense. When he was under pressure or under fire, he would fold. He had once run away from a hacking job because of the massive force of Elites coming for him and his squad. "I panic. A lot. I cost ONI major information. Fortunately, my squad covered for me, because they knew of my condition. They said that there was too much resistance, and that we had to back out of there if we wanted to live. I can promise you, Andrew, I will not shirk away from battle, that I will fight to the best of my ability." 515 gladly accepted Kale's promise, assuring him that he thought Kale would be an excellent addition to the team.

He hadn't learned much about Mark, other than what he had said during their first meeting. All he knew was that Mark has been transferred from Gamma Squad to the ODST for additional training. This training gave him a sense of what to do under fire or pressure, unlike Kale. 515 the team had a sniper who was not unnerved easily, and from what he had heard, would not miss a shot.

Tyler still remained a mystery. He had shut himself away from the rest of the team, and any time 515 or anyone else tried to get him to talk, he would shove them away from him, and then suddenly become very interested in his armor, and would wipe it as though he'd die if it was dirty.

515 had also learned that they all had requested callsign changes sometime during their service. Mark went from 85 to 805, Gage from 46 to 178, Tyler from 34 to 288, Kale from 47 to 187, and Ethan from 45 to 134. The UNSC permitted this because they had known about the hardships these SPARTANS went through.

515 drifted away from his thoughts and back into reality. He pulled out his combat knife, and sharpened it off his left shoulder, which had a COMMANDO shoulder piece attached to it. Sparks flew through the air, flying through the evening sky like the fireflies 515 used to chase when he was a child. He ran the blade over his hand, digging slightly into his skin. Warm, crimson blood seeped out and ran down his hand and onto his wrist. Good, it's sharp. He had always liked a sharp knife. It provided a sense of security, knowing that if he ran out of all other weapons, his knife would be there; always ready to be inserted to an Elite's soft, warm flesh. He then inserted his last resort back into the holster on his right shoulder, which had a SECURITY shoulder armor piece attached to it. He put his cobalt and orange helmet on, and then looked at SWORD Base. The doomed fortress towered over him, making him fell very small, just an insect, a pawn in the game of war. Banshees and other Covenant aircraft flew over the once majestic symbol of ONI strength.

Their job was to get into the base, where Gage would plant seven C4 charges on each of the seven major supporting beams of the base. They would then proceed to evacuate the remaining Marines and ODST troopers, leave the base, and blow it up.
They were about 5 miles from the base, and had already experienced light resistance. A couple of Covenant patrols had spotted them. 515 and Gage had picked them off before the enemy could even figure out where the fire was coming from.
515's communication radio sparked to life. "This is 805 to all of Gold Squad. We have incoming Covenant Banshees. ETA thirty seconds."

515 responded. "Engage, take them out swiftly." They were to leave no survivors or anyone who could alert other Covenant about their presence.

Gage and Tyler responded immediately. "Yessir." They turned their M41 Light Anti-Aircraft Guns, nicknamed the "Vulcan", and begin firing. The violet aircraft turned and began launching plasma rounds from their front turrets. It rained green. The heat of plasma in the air, incinerating anything it touched. Their stuck the ground around the Warthogs, and 515 pulled out his M392 Designated Marksman Rifle, his weapon of choice, and took a few potshots at the low-flying aircraft.

The Banshees had passed overhead and were beginning a second run. The Warthogs had not suffered major damage, only a few scratches here and there. Gage and Tyler had warmed their LAAGs again, and the rounds began firing 550 rounds a minute out of their red-hot barrels.

A minute was less than the two gunners had needed, the already damaged Banshees were reduced to rubble in a matter of seconds. They exploded, and a bright violet flash blinded all of Gold Squad. The bodies of their Elite Pilots flew through the air, one landing in front of 515's Warthog. It had no arms or legs. "Hey look, it's torso boy! Shame he couldn't stay for the fireworks!" Gage remarked.

515 spoke over his radio, "Good shooting SPARTANS, we're going to be experiencing much more resistance than that in a few minutes, so be prepared."

About a minute later, they encountered a massive resistance force. It was composed of seven groups of Covenant squads, a Wraith, three Banshees, and five Ghosts. "Engage lightly, we don't have time to take them all out, pick off what you can. Ethan, Kale, keep driving."

"Right." His group responded in unison. He, Tyler, Gage, and Mark began to rain down shots as they passed; bodies of Covenant troops fell like dominoes. As they pushed through the Covenant lines, SWORD Base appeared overhead. What was once a symbol of the might of the UNSC was now a symbol of the greater power of the Covenant. As 515 looked at the forsaken building, he felt fear once again. But more importantly, he felt a feeling he'd been hoping he wouldn't feel. The feeling that the fight that the battle for Reach was unwinnable. He felt Death knocking at the doors of Humanity and the UNSC. He shook the feeling off, only to have it return.

He had no time to focus on those feelings, though. They were at the entrance to the base. They lined up at the door, preparing for a breach. Gage set the charges. "Detonate on my mark." 515 said. He took a deep breath, the shouted, "Mark!"


[Edited on 01.27.2011 3:11 PM PST]

  • 01.27.2011 3:05 PM PDT

III (cont.)

The charges blasted the door off its hinges. Almost immediately, a wave of enemy fire appeared. They hid behind boxes and walls, exchanging fie with the Grunts, Jackals, and Elites that fired back. Tyler was closer than the rest, firing his M90 CAWS Shotgun. The rest of the group had standard-issue MA37 Assault Rifles (except for 515, who still had his DMR). An Elite appeared right in front of 515 and tackled him to the ground, making him lose his grip on his DMR. 515 attempted to bring his pistol up to the Elite's head, but before he could, the alien slapped his weapon out of his hand. It screeched, flaring its sharp, fanged mandibles. It then pulled out its energy dagger, and stabbed, aiming for 515's neck.

515 rolled out of harm's way, then unsheathed his knife. He grabbed the arm that the Elite was holding its knife in, and brought his knee to the alien's stomach. The Elite curled over, its breath knocked out of its lungs. 515 took advantage of the situation, bringing his knife into the creature's soft, fleshy neck. The Elite was dead before it even hit the ground. 515 felt no remorse killing it. He rushed back to where his DMR and pistol were lying on the floor, and picked them up. Putting the pistol back in its holster, he brought the DMR up to his face, aiming down the scope.

515 had picked off quite a few enemies before the skirmish was over. In the end, the dead bodies of Covenant forces littered the ground. As 515 stepped over the body of an Elite, he lost all doubt that his team had any flaws, not that he had any to begin with.

They moved into the next room, and finding no resistance, moved on. They continued in this manner until they got to the first beam. "Set the charges." Gage did. They moved on. So far, the only Covenant they had seen were the one they encountered when they had first entered the base. It seemed unlike the Covenant to abandon such a valuable position. 515 had even heard a rumor that there was a Forerunner construct below the base. If that rumor is true, then you'd think that they would have all of their troops here. But they don't. It's too easy. Where are they?


[Edited on 01.27.2011 3:08 PM PST]

  • 01.27.2011 3:07 PM PDT

IV

They moved from room to room, encountering light resistance. When they reached the second pillar, Gage set the charges, then asked the question they had all been wondering about. "Intel said they would have the largest resistance force we would see during the entire war, if that's the case, where are they?" The other SPARTANS nodded in agreement, perplexed by the Covenant's logic.

"Let's not focus on that. The less resistance there is, the better." 515 said.
Just then, 515's communications radio crackled to life. "Gold Leader, this is Staff Sergeant Ryan Hailir. We are encountering a large group of Covenant forces on the floor above you. We are requesting assistance. We have major injuries. We can't hold them back much longer! "

"Request granted. Sit tight, Staff Sergeant. We are sending two SPARTANS from our squad to assist you. We'll get all of you out safely." He turned to Tyler. "I want you and Ethan to help those Marines. It shouldn't be a problem; after all, we are SPARTANS. Kale, Gage, and I will proceed to the next beam and set charges there. Once we are done with that, we will regroup with you and get those Marines out of here. Then we will proceed with the mission."

"Right." Tyler said. Ethan nodded, and they ran out of the room.

515 spoke into his radio. Gold Two, this is Gold leader, do you copy?"

Mark responded. "Copy, Gold Leader."

"I need you to cover Gold Four and Six."

"Yessir."

"When you clear out the Covenant there, stay with the Marines. Once we finish applying the next charges, we will regroup with you."

He turned to Kale and Gage. "Let's get moving, SPARTANS."

They ran through room to room, picking off Covenant patrols as they went. When they arrived at the third pillar, 515 spoke to Tyler through his radio. "Gold Four, status report."

"The marines are safe, we're waiting for transport to arrive. What's your status?"

"The third pillar is armed, we're heading to your location. ETA ten minutes.

"Alright."

Ten minutes later, the group was back together. "How hard was it?" Gage asked Ethan.

"There weren't that many Covvies, it was too easy to take them out."

"Good, glad to see that we could help out fellow troopers." 515 turned to Tyler. "You did a
good job, SPARTAN. I'm glad that you're on the team. I know that there is some animosity between the two of us, but I hope that we can work it out." He put out his hand.

Tyler looked at him, then for the first time, removed his helmet. He had black hair, brown eyes, and a huge scar that went diagonally down his cheek. He accepted 515's gesture, and they shook hands. "This doesn't mean anything."

515 nodded, and turned away. He'll come out when he's ready. He turned to Gage and the others. "Alright, we have four more pillars to arm, and then we're out of here. Let's get going, SPARTANS."

Once again, they made their way down another corridor, like they had done three times before. But this time, something was different. There was much more Covenant resistance than the last three times. And they weren't normal Covenant patrols. Most of them consisted of at least three Zealot-class Elites, all with energy swords. One patrol managed to down 515's energy shields. When they reached the fourth pillar, most of Gold Squad was exhausted. "If we fight through anymore patrols like that, I'll die," Gage declared. The rest of the team groaned in agreement.

"Enough of that, team. We've got a job to do. Let's get moving the next one." 515 said, walking into the next room.

They were given a break when proceeding to the fifth and six pillars, as there was little to no resistance force as they made their way through the base. As Gage was setting the charges, 515 took a drink out of his canteen, quenching his thirst. He closed his eyes, relaxing. The cold, refreshing water went down his arid, desert-like throat. He felt revitalized, ready to fight. "Aahh" He opened his eyes, and saw many of his squadmates doing the same. "Job's almost over, SPARTANS. Let's ship out."

As they made their way to the final pillar, Kale spoke up. "I've got enemy heat sigs close to our position."

515 responded. "How close?"

As he said the sentence, he heard the ignition of energy swords. Kale answered him. "That close."

  • 01.27.2011 3:17 PM PDT

V

515 turned around, seeing the pink glow of the most feared weapon the Covenant had to offer. The blades hummed in unison, almost like a death song. There were seven Elites, a sword in each hand, ready to mercilessly kill each member of the squad, one by one. "Oh, -blam!-." He heard Tyler say. 515 brought his DMR scope to his face, and fired. The rest of his squad opened fire with their assault rifles, and Tyler with his shotgun. The Elites dodged the bullets, rolling out of harm's way and behind a few ONI crates. 515 produced a spherical, green fragmentation grenade, pulled the pin, and threw it toward the crates. It rolled behind them, where the Elites were hiding. There was a five second pause, them an explosion. Black smoke rose from behind the crates, blinding all of Gold Squad; giving the Elites time to come out from cover, which is exactly what they did. 515 found himself on the floor again, this time squaring off against an Elite, with armor that had yellow stripes on it. He went for his pistol again, only to, once again, have it sent flying across the floor. He pushed the elite off of his body, making it fall backward onto the cold, hard tile.

He grabbed his pistol and shot it six times in the head, three times for the shields, twice to kill it, and one for safety measures. It lay on the floor, dead as a doorknob. He walked over the corpse and retrieved the alien's energy sword. He looked at the weapon, his gaze transfixed on the shimmer of light off the blade. He turned it off, and the rose-colored blade seemed to vanish in thin air. He put it into his TACTICAL/HARD CASE. For those things you don't want to lose or break. He thought.

His attention turned to his team, who were struggling with their Covenant foes. Tyler had managed to kill one of them, only to have the seventh take its place. Kale was on his back, an Elite preparing to separate him into five different pieces. 515 pulled out the sword and stabbed it straight through its chest, sliding in better than his knife would have. The smell of burning flesh wafted through the air, reaching 515's nostrils. The enemy's body fell to the ground, like so many of its brothers before it.

515 extended his hand to Kale, who firmly grabbed it. He pulled the fallen solider to his feet. "There are more of them, get moving, SPARTAN!" Getting back up to his feet, the medic of the team shouted, "Yes sir!" He pulled out his assault rifle, and began attacking the last Elite.
They had killed most of the other Elites, but the battle still wasn't over. Reinforcements had arrived; thankfully, they consisted of Brutes and Grunts. Needles flew past 515's head as he ran toward the enemy. He leaped behind the same crates the Elites had used a short while ago. Once again, he produced a grenade, pulled the pin, and sent it flying. It settled smack in the middle of a pack of Grunts, who looked at the object as though it was of Forerunner origin. They soon learned their error, as the newfound object exploded, the blast sending them flying backward. One almost managed to get up, only to have a bullet put through its head by 515.

The Brutes were a problem. Gage and Ethan stood back-to-back, fighting off at least five of the hairy, ape-like creatures. 515 rushed toward the nearest and shoved his knife right into the small of its back. Oh, how I love you, knife. He thought. He went for the next one, shooting it in the leg with his pistol, and then putting it out its misery with a bullet to the head.

He killed two more, only to have four more come. Ethan was holding his ground, but 515 couldn't see Gage. Where is he? Tyler had finished off his foes, and was tearing the Brutes to shreds with his shotgun. His purple armor had bullet holes, bumps, dents and scratches in it. He looks like a purple Gage. Chuckling at this thought, he was caught off guard, and was put on the floor with one swipe of a Brute's massive forearm. "Dammit!" He swore. He pulled out his knife, his pistol across the floor once more. The Brute plucked it with his massive, hairy hands. He then began punching 515 in the face. "Get off of me, you filthy ape!" 515 said.

He looked over to his right, and saw Gage and Ethan on the floor as well, their Brute assailants pummeling them, as well. He felt his consciousness slipping away from him, as the world began to fade to black. A shot rang out. All three of the massive Covenant troops fell down, surely dead. In the distance, he heard Mark say, "Triple collateral kill, if we were playing my ODST squad's kill point system, I'd be whooping your sorry asses."

515 got off the floor, the green, slime-like blood of his past victims dripping from his armor. He wiped it off, and spoke to Mark. "You saved our butts there, Mark. This is why you're the sniper."

"Yeah, I suppose it is." The Christmas-colored SPARTAN replied, a hint of pride in his voice.

515 grabbed his weapons and began fighting once again. More Brutes had arrived, along with the Grunts in their ruthless command. Plasma came flying out of the weapons carried by the Covenant's cannon fodder, raining down on the six SPARTANS. One struck 515 in the chest, but his shields protected him from the green projectile.

A needle hit him the left arm. It was pink, and about the size and thickness of a large twig. He grabbed it and pulled it out of his arm. The Grunt that had shot him was about five feet from him, waiting to see him die. He looked at the pink, oversized splinter that he held in his hand, then back at the small alien. "Thanks for denting my armor! You can have this back!" He shouted, as he put the needle through the Grunt's eye. Blood spewed out of the eye faster than a geyser. In a few minutes the alien dropped dead on the cold, hard tile flooring.


  • 01.29.2011 12:00 PM PDT

VI

A few minutes later, they had finished off their alien foes. Gold team had begun to relax, finally getting a minute of well-needed rest. 515 took a deep breath, then said, "Alright, let's get moving."

"I don't think so sir." The usually silent Kale replied.

"Whassa matter, you tired 'ready?" The energetic but out of breath Gage responded, slurring his words together.

"No, it's that I've got incoming Covenant dropships inbound to our position." Kale responded in his surprisingly calm voice.
515 swore under his breath. "Alright, let's split up. Tyler, Mark, Ethan and I will stay here and hold them off while Gage and Kale go and plant those charges."

His team nodded, showing that they understood. Gage and Kale ran down the hall to the seventh pillar, While 515 and the others began moving toward the Covenant landing zone. "Get behind cover, this is gonna be rough." 515 ordered. His team did exactly as he ordered. Mark pulled out his tripod and set his long-range death machine on it. He could hear the Covenant outside the door, preparing their assault, and planning the death of anything that did not obey the will of the Prophets.
515 pulled out the energy sword, and ignited it. The pink glow of the hot plasma drew his teammate's gazes. Ethan spoke up. "Don't those things have a failsafe mechanism?"

515 shrugged. "I don't know, guess it didn't work." He walked to the left side of the door, and crouched. "Hand signals from now on until engagement, we can't lose the element of surprise."

Three blue acknowledgement lights blinked on.

515 motioned for Tyler to go to the right side of the door.

Tyler nodded, and moved to his assigned position.

Suddenly, the door flew off its hinges and crashed into a pile of boxes to Mark's left, almost hitting Ethan. A squadron of Grunts waddled into the room, and immediately fell to Gold squad's bullets. Methane gas leaked into the air, forming into a hazardous cloud right in the doorway. A few Elites rushed in, and suffocated from the lingering gas. The troops behind them screeched and panicked, giving the team of SPARTANS a few seconds of free kills. Soon enough, the Covenant troops had figured out where the fire was coming from, and had begun to return it. Plasma flew out of the barrels of their weapons, flying past the SPARTAN's heads, and boiling anything that it touched. Gold Squad ducked under the boxes that served as their cover, the suppressing fire whizzing over them. "We're gonna need backup!" 515 shouted. He opened up a TACCOM channel: "This is Gold Leader. Are there any UNSC troops still in SWORD Base?" No answer. "Repeat, are any UNSC troops in the vicinity of SWORD Base?" Static came through the TACCOM, and then he heard a faint sound.

"This is Gunnery Sergeant Jared. My Squad and I read you. We are inbound to your position. The situation must be really bad if SPARTANS are calling in for help."

"Correct Sergeant, it is bad, make sure you and your men are ready to fight."

The suppressive fire had stopped, and Gold Squad came out of cover and began firing as the Covenant troops reloaded. Many of the Grunts and Jackals were dead by the time 515 had to reload, and they had prevented the rest of the Covenant forces from getting into cover. There were about twenty more enemies to kill, an easy job for four SPARTANS. They reloaded and began firing again, the volleys of plasma and bullets flying through the air.

By the time Jared's team of Marines arrived, the Covenant forces were lying on the ground, their corpses beginning to rot. "I thought you said it was bad."

"It will be, in a few minutes. That was only the first wave; I doubt that they've given up." He looked at the squad. There were ten men, all battle-ready.

"Where do you want us, Chief?" One of the Marines piped up.



  • 02.11.2011 3:53 PM PDT

"Establish a perimeter around the room. There are two doors on our flanks that they could come through. I want you Marines to split into two groups of five and guard them with your lives. Don't let any Covenant in. If they get past you, we're finished."

"Sir, yes sir!" The Marines barked. They went to their assigned places and prepared to fight.

515 checked his radar. He saw five huge, red blips appear. "Here they come, get ready!"

"Yes sir!" The Marines responded. Three acknowledgement lights pinged on. He saw two of the Phantoms split from the original group to go to the group's flanks.

"I was right, they're attacking on the flanks, expect enemy contact, Marines."

"Let's give 'em hell!" He heard a gung-ho Marine shout.
The Phantoms floated above the ground. He could see them dropping off Elites, Brutes, Grunts, Jackals, and even two pairs of Hunters. "They've brought in Hunters!" 515 shouted.
The fire began even before they reached the door. Plasma flew like a flock of birds. Gold Team and the Marines exchanged fire with their adversaries, but slowly, the Covenant forces began to overtake them. For every foe they killed, ten took their place. Grunts threw volleys of plasma grenades, causing 515 to have to run from his cover occasionally. He once saw a Marine to his left get stuck with one of the grenades. Accepting his fate, he ran toward the enemy, taking a few Elites and Grunts with him. A brave sacrifice, but it's not going to help much. Grunts walked in, holding onto Fuel Rod Guns. The heavy weapons fired, sending the Covenant equivalent of a rocket at the SPARTAN's position. They hit, and exploded, destroying the boxes 515 was hiding behind. "Dammit!" He cursed. He moved back to another stack of boxes, and saw that Gold Squad and the Marines had been pushed back into one spot. I've got no other choice. "Fall back! Rendezvous at the next room!" Blue acknowledge lights winked on, and the group began moving back, firing to hold off as many enemies as possible. He turned on a SQUADCOM channel: "Gage, Kale, what's taking you so long?"

"We're done, and are coming back to your position." Gage responded.

"Well, haul ass, SPARTAN. The Covenant have brought in quite a force."

"Yessir, how bad is it?"

"We had to call in Marines."

"Oh, really bad, then?"

"You damn betcha."

They had fallen back into the next room, where they had about five minutes to breathe. The Marines had moved boxes in front of the door, and had overturned tables for makeshift cover. 515 took a drink from his canteen, licked the water off his lips, and proceeded to get behind one of the tables. A Marine was with him. "What's your name, Private?" He asked.

"Harold Reain, sir."

"Good name, private. What are we gonna do to the Covenant when they get through the door?"

"Kick their alien asses!"

"Damn right, Private! Now get ready!"

"Yes sir!" The now fired-up solider checked his ammo counter and grenades, then prepared for combat.

Kale and Gage arrived, and, without saying a word, got behind a table.

515 opened a private COM to Kale. "How much resistance was there?"

Kale responded. "None. I can see where it went, though."

515 nodded. "Get ready, they probably brought more."

They heard a thumping noise in the door, and the roar of Elites. "Get ready!" 515 shouted." The door held. More thumping, louder this time. It continued to rise in volume until it was a loud bang, almost like a cannon shot.
The door gave away. Immediately, two Fuel Rod shots came flying at 515 and the rest of their group. The hit the back wall, and exploded. 515 grabbed his DMR, and began firing into the crowd. Plasma hit his armor, but his shields held. He continued to fire back, picking off as many Covenant as possible.

Harold stopped firing. "Damn gun, why'd you have to jam now!"

He hit it twice, and it fired. "Whoa!" He shouted. "Alright you -blam!-s, let's see-"

He never finished his sentence. A needle from a rifle had hit him in the head, went through his cerebrum, and exited through the back of his head. He was dead before he hit the ground. A pool of crimson blood poured out on the floor. "Damn it!" 515 cursed. He felt better. "Alright, let's go!" He grabbed Harold's assault rifle, and pulled the trigger. Bullets flew out of the barrel, hitting Grunts, Elites and Jackals. He saw bodies of Covenant troops strewn everywhere, blood spilling out of their bodies and onto the floor. He ran out of ammo for his rifle, and pulled out his pistol. He emptied a clip, and then went back into cover. He reached for a dead Marine's rifle, taking the ammo out of the chamber and grabbing spare clips from the dead man's body. He popped out from behind the table, and green plasma shots came straight for him. He ducked, and spoke into his SQUADCOM. "Alright, grenades on my mark." Five blue acknowledgement lights blinked on. "Three, two, one, mark!"

The SPARTANS and Marines tossed grenades at the enemy. Five seconds passed, and then they exploded, killing surrounding Covenant forces. How are we going to stop them? Every time we kill one, twenty take its place. It's like a Hydra, the only way to kill it is to-

He got an idea. "Take out all the heads at once." HE finished his thought aloud. He spoke into his SQUADCOM. "Gage, set the charges for a ten minute fuse."

"Why?" Gage responded.

"There are too many Covenant. If we blow up SWORD Base now, we can take them out along with the base."

"Aye, aye, sir. Setting the charges for T-minus ten minutes and counting."

"Alright then, let's move!"

They began running away, and he heard a Marine speak, "Why are SPARTANS retreating?"

515 opened a TACOM channel, and spoke. "Any UNSC personnel in SWORD Base, get out. We have set the charges on a ten minute fuse, and they will take out the base. I repeat, any UNSC forces in or around SWORD Base, evacuate immediately."
Gage spoke up, "I hope this works."
515 responded, "I do, to. If it doesn't, we're dead meat."



  • 02.11.2011 3:58 PM PDT