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  • Subject: [Novel] (Halo): Shadows of Blood - Fourth Chapter Released!
Subject: [Novel] (Halo): Shadows of Blood - Fourth Chapter Released!

~I blame Stosh. Why? .......Dunno either.
XLS Thunderstom--
Legendary Spec Ops
-- Godz of Tactical Combat

I am a Lone Wolf of Reach's Ruins. I am in a Team, and I will listen; although when I can, I go my own way, and lead my own way. When the situation calls, I will do as ordered.
Only when I must.

(Feel free to comment with constructive criticism or compliments.)

The page that each entry
is on within this thread
will be posted below.
First Entry (Prolouge.) - Pg.1
Second Entry (Groggy Routine)- Pg.1
Third Entry (Move Out)- Pg.1
Fourth Entry (Ambush)- Pg.1


Vengeance


How long can one man keep his heart stone cold? How long can one, single man on Earth, keep his mind looking toward nothing but retribution for those who caused him misery?

As I have learned, a damn long time.

As I have learned...
Forever.
-----------------------------------
"Landing zone is clear. Get ready.
"I reached for my helmet, the trademark of my kind. I am an Orbital Drop Shock Tropper, or an ODST. We are the special forces of the United Nations Space Command, often reffered to as "Helljumpers." That name could not be more accurate.

The Falcon touched down gently, the same way it always did. Our pilot was excellent - I don't think I have ever seen a more proficient pilot of, well, anything. But that is not the point. A city stood in front of us. I am not authorized to spill the details of that operation; let the city be known as... I don't know, Omega. Yes, Omega. It was grand, a city filled with streets, towering skyscrapers, and all that other crap that accompanies every city. We were sent there to investigate some suspicious activity on that front. We suspected a few Covenant forces... nothing much.

We were not far from Omega's entrance, and the walk was short. We had to investigate the area. Only four of us came, so two groups were formed. Alex, often called "Hawkeye" by those who knew him well, followed me. Myself? Yeah, I had a nickname. Rouge - I was clever, shadowy, and good at sabotage.

I brought two of my choice weapons - a standard UNSC shotgun and a Designated Marksmans Rifle, or DMR. After a few scans of the area, it was clear that nothing was around. A few squirrels and the occasional bird, but not much else. Then it came.

The gunshot.

"All squads report inside Omega immediately. We have hostile activity."
"Yes Sir!"

Hawkeye and myself ran toward the entrance, and we met up with the other two - John and Dan - at equal times. We got inside, and coordinates flashed into our navigation links. We arrived swiftly.
Everything was quiet, too quiet infact. We heard a few screaming people, running away in terror, but nothing else.

Then came the dreaded roar.

The engine told us ahead of time, but we couldn't have reacted. A warthog burst out of an ally, every seat loaded with someone. Even the turret was mounted. Too our left, armed mercenaries came out, and more behind us. Four ODST's, and a dozen or more armed men.

I want to call it a fair fight. Sadly, it wasn't.

"How the hell did these mercenaries procure a god damn warthog!" I screamed. It was a futile question - no one knew how.

A few shots caught Dan in the back as he shot at the group of armed men. They shot back.
No one else attempted. Why bother? "Get out of here! Abort! ABO - " Hawkeye was slammed by the Warthog, and the turreteer grabbed him on his way back, slipping a knife into his throat.

The rest of us ran. I wanted to stay, but I would not die. I dived away from the warthog, straight into the man. They grabbed my right arm, but I slammed the butt of my gun into his face with my left. I pivoted around, killing two more. John took a few gunshots in the arm. Dan was on the edge of paralization - thank god for adrenaline. No. I take that back. It didn't do a thing. He was grabbed by some shadowy figures. I kept running, but John attempted to protect him. With one arm, his aim was terrible. The warthog claimed a new victim. So did these new mercenaries.

I dived away from the warthog, and took some shots to the leg. Limping, I rolled behind a skyscraper and shot back...
*The mans face turns glum.*

I couldn't do anything. The turret ran out of ammo, and adrenaline pushed me towards the entrance. I heard something clang to the ground, but I did not have time to think about what it was. Then it exploded, and I flew. Out of the city, yes. But I almost died.

The Falcon landed to the ground, and I managed to make it in. We took some fire, but it wasn't enough to damage the vehicle. it was enough, however, to injure my arm.

And my spirits."
----
I looked up from the ground, my arms holding my head as I hunched over my small bed. The hologram infront of me flickered as Miranda - my wife - spoke. "So you want revenge on them?"

"Yes, I do."

"Has anyone tried to help you?"

I frowned. "They have, but they don't feel my pain. I knew those people well, and I can't allow them to die this way..."

Miranda sighed. "They have tracked them down, I guess?" I nodded. "They have to no avail," I replied. "I know the attackers faces, but distantly. If I saw them, I would recognize them instantly."

"They were executed?"

"No. They were bailed from execution by some 'authorities'. Yeah, right."

Silence followed for a few seconds. "Hey, I have to go. And Isaac, please. I understand what you have to do, but... Don't get yourself killed or anything, ok?" said Miranda, trying to hold in some tears. I nodded, and closed the link. I fell back on to the bed in my quarters, but I found no sleep.

I would find vengeance for my lost companions. No matter how long it took.
--
Edits - Changed Canon slightly from jail to 'fake authority bail'
Miranda shows more emotion.

[Edited on 05.04.2011 1:08 PM PDT]

  • 04.24.2011 7:06 PM PDT
Subject: [Novel] Shadows of Blood - First Entry

-Gr33n Knight

My stories:

Streams of Fire

Jiralhanae

hmmm... this is different. The format seems to be like he is telling the story to the reader, and the fact that he corrects himself as he does so adds a bit of character to that. I am confused about one thing though, you said they were expecting a few covenant forces, yet are attacked by mercenaries? I don't think anyone would hire soldiers to attack UNSC forces during a Covenant invasion, except for possible Insurrectionists, and even they tended to unite against the Covenant. Also, I don't think Jail would have been used very much during the war, at least not on planets being attacked by the Covenant...

Maybe clarify those and it would make a bit more sense. Overall, though, sounds good. His wife also doesn't seem very upset about him seeking revenge on mercenaries...

Your tag of [Novel] seems to be high-reaching, so I hope you're ready to deliver. If you haven't already, I would suggest reading the other fanfics around here to see what works and what doesn't, maybe get a feel for how to structure this and keep it going. I'll be keeping an eye on this one, it seems unique for what's here on the forum...

  • 04.24.2011 8:40 PM PDT

~I blame Stosh. Why? .......Dunno either.
XLS Thunderstom--
Legendary Spec Ops
-- Godz of Tactical Combat

I am a Lone Wolf of Reach's Ruins. I am in a Team, and I will listen; although when I can, I go my own way, and lead my own way. When the situation calls, I will do as ordered.
Only when I must.


Posted by: Gr33n Knight
hmmm... this is different. The format seems to be like he is telling the story to the reader, and the fact that he corrects himself as he does so adds a bit of character to that. I am confused about one thing though, you said they were expecting a few covenant forces, yet are attacked by mercenaries? I don't think anyone would hire soldiers to attack UNSC forces during a Covenant invasion, except for possible Insurrectionists, and even they tended to unite against the Covenant. Also, I don't think Jail would have been used very much during the war, at least not on planets being attacked by the Covenant...

Maybe clarify those and it would make a bit more sense. Overall, though, sounds good. His wife also doesn't seem very upset about him seeking revenge on mercenaries...

Your tag of [Novel] seems to be high-reaching, so I hope you're ready to deliver. If you haven't already, I would suggest reading the other fanfics around here to see what works and what doesn't, maybe get a feel for how to structure this and keep it going. I'll be keeping an eye on this one, it seems unique for what's here on the forum...


They weren't really hired. It's like the scenario of Drug Cartels and Gangsters fighting in the streets, and the ODST's were caught in it. It sets up for later on, the mystery of coincidence or conspiracy.
As for jail... I noticed a few slips in the canon for this, which I will possibly mend if I find it becomes too big of an issu- I actually can mend that now.
And yes, I have read a few of the fanfics here. I noticed the format of alot of them, and wanted to try something different. Worst that will happen is this will crash and burn, unknown a couple hundred pages in. I intend to keep this going. It is fun to write. :P
Thanks for the comments!

  • 04.24.2011 8:46 PM PDT
Subject: [Novel] (Halo): Shadows of Blood - 3rd Installment Posted!

~I blame Stosh. Why? .......Dunno either.
XLS Thunderstom--
Legendary Spec Ops
-- Godz of Tactical Combat

I am a Lone Wolf of Reach's Ruins. I am in a Team, and I will listen; although when I can, I go my own way, and lead my own way. When the situation calls, I will do as ordered.
Only when I must.

Entry #2
'Groggy Routine.'


Morning bells went off, and by then I would have been waking up and getting ready for the day. I was already in my casual uniform though, walking out of my quarters and down the metal hallways before it ever went off. I found no sleep, and I was not even tired. I was, more or less, a walking dead. I was over the initial pain of John, Dan, and Alex, but they were like brothers to me. I knew them well, as I did most people, but something about them...

Walking the same halls they so often did, knowing that, by know, I would be talking, eating, and training with them, left an emptiness in my heart that still haunts me.

I should have been hungry, staying up for, what, twenty-four hours or more? I would have been starving. Instead, I walked emotionlessly down the hall and to the right, opening a metal door - the metal door - to the training field outside.

A little over a week ago, I would have been training with the other three at my side.

I grabbed an Marksman Rifle off of the wall, loaded the gun, and started shooting targets habitually, almost like a robot programmed for one function. As I finished my third clip and grabbed a Sniper Rifle, a thought crossed my mind. Why? It had come to me so many other times, the wonder as to why these deaths - deaths that I should have been accepting in the UNSC - troubled me so, and caused me so much grief. But they did.

I pushed the thought aside and set the scope on my sniper, aiming a little over a hundred meters right and upward towards a Sanghelli-Shaped target. My sniper skills were lackluster, and I wanted to fix that. I pulled the trigger, and watched the bullet fly, and found satisfaction in my headshot. I lined up another shot, and quickly adjusted left and down to a ground target, firing a few seconds after I made sight.

I hit the arm. Not bad, but I had room for improvement.

I heard the sound of moving hinges, and turned back. One of the standard marines came outside, and I tossed him the sniper. He wore a marksman badge. He smiled at me, and within 10 seconds, had 3 headshots and a neck shot on targets many meters out. I smiled, impressed. It was a weak smile, but the man knew what I had been through. Some thought me weak and crazy. Some pitied me. Some cared and some didn't care what-so-ever. This man, apparently, atleast had the sense to be comforting.

I walked out, and was ran into by one of my Generals.
"Im sorry, si-"

He cut me off. "I don't care, Isaac. Come with me, Corporal. I got something to show you."

I followed him to the office of our base commander, and walked in to the man smoking a pipe with some papers out infront of him. He dismissed the General, and turned to face me.

"Isaac, I know that you are feeling depressed-"
God, I feel more than depressed. He really undercut that feeling, but I stood, silent.
"-and we can all see that. But that won't help you on the battlefield. I feel your pain-"
I doubt that. I really doubt you do, sir. Still, I stood silent.
"-but we can't stop our entire operation-"
Operation Quake, striving for the quick destruction of some covenant in a valley near a not-to-far away outpost.
"-for your personal, petty grudges! Now get outside and help pack the warthogs. We leave in two hours, so move it!"

I stood there, my face expressionless. I nodded and gave a curt 'Yes sir' to him, and quickly walked out. I wanted to scream at him, but it would have been for no reason. He was right - it was a selfish, petty, and rather personal desire for revenge.

I would still find it. For now, though, I had to report outside. We would load up and move out in two hours time, heading in to aid the outpost in Operation Quake.

----
The man looked at the others, and walked away, oblivious to the stares of more than a dozen men.

"Weak!"

"Wimp!"

"Calm down, calm down," said one of the more commanding of the crowd. "If he wants to go, let him go. Maybe this life is not for him."

The casually dressed, medium-haired man grinned, and walked towards the door.

"But," said the other man again, "we may have to kill him now. I mean, surely, he knows too much about our lifestyle and our locations."

The walking man stopped, and looked back, his face calculating.
"I have my reasons for walking out." He grinned. "Those ODST's we killed recently got me wonderin' about why I am in this gig. Pardon me, but I don't want the military on my head."

The other's continued their insults, but the one, the same one who threatened to kill him, was the very one who wanted most for him to go. He knew the reasoning for why this man - Phillip Caloon - was leaving.

And he would return. He would return with vital information for their cause.





[Edited on 04.29.2011 12:51 PM PDT]

  • 04.26.2011 6:44 PM PDT

~I blame Stosh. Why? .......Dunno either.
XLS Thunderstom--
Legendary Spec Ops
-- Godz of Tactical Combat

I am a Lone Wolf of Reach's Ruins. I am in a Team, and I will listen; although when I can, I go my own way, and lead my own way. When the situation calls, I will do as ordered.
Only when I must.

(No other comments yet? If you are reading and not posting, I appologize - this chapter hasn't brought in much battle yet. It sets up for it quite well, though.)

Third Entry.
'Move out.'



I made a trip back to the armory, put on my armor over top of my uniform, and walked outside with an Assault Rifle on my back. A pistol was also mounted to my thigh. I could have easily brought a rifle instead, but I would use the outposts armory whenever it came time. On operations like this, we could wait 2 days or 2 weeks before the actual strike. For this same reason, only me, 12 Marines, and 2 Orbital Drop Shock Trooper special forces were coming along. Most of our power would be supplied through two tanks and some air fire.

Out of the room, to the left, and out the right five hallways later, I was walking down the outer fields of the base. Three falcons would take the twelve marines to the other outpost in preparation, while one warthog took me and the others. Another warthog would drive behind with a turret gunner and the last of the ODST's. In effect, that made fifteen marines - besides the 12, two were driving warthogs and one would be manning a turret.

I was told that I could back out if I thought the deaths of these ODST's would make me emotionally unstable. I wanted to punch the commander, right then and there.

Those people beside me were my friends, and unfairly killed in a freak accident. I don't find their death - death on the streets of 'Omega' by some random mercenaries - very just in any way.

Conspiracy? Coincidence? Hell, I didn't know.

One of the drivers was pacing the area outside. He stopped and looked at me. "Hey there, Isaac. We are leaving relatively soon..."

He stopped, and walked toward the warthog. "Ahh great, punctured wheel," said the dismayed man - private Trevor Green - as he bent down for inspection. As he did that, I walked off, heading into the base supply depot. I came back out a few minutes later, a tire in my hands. Trevor glanced back up at me.

"It's a bullet hole, most likely from a confiscated weapon by the cov-" he stopped, and noticed my 'Special Delivery.' I handed it too him, and he thanked me, quickly replacing the faulty rubber.

For an hour or more, I simply stood outside, leaning against the wall passively. I tried to clear my thoughts, and I actually managed a -weak- laugh as a soldier coming out tripped and fell to the ground.

"Isaac, you're coming too, you know."

I glanced to my right, watching one of the marines motion for me to get in my warthog as he boarded a falcon turret. I walked over. The first warthog was already filled, so I walked over to the remaining hog.

It looked like I was the 'last' of the ODST's. Quite frankly, I was glad for the solitude.

----

After about two hours of driving over bland hills and repetitive valleys, we arrived.

The warthog stopped, and we were met by a few marines and the base commander. He had a rough mustache and an equally gruff voice.

"Welcome Soldiers!"

"Good Morning, Sir!"

We recieved a general debriefing (common blather, we have heard it all before) and then I walked into the outpost. No, correction. I almost did. A hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned around, looking into the eyes of a marine. He had an unmistakeble aura of authority. His eyes bored into mine, as my helmet was still held at my side.

"You," he said.

"Isaac," I replied. He stared at me.

"You," he said again. "You're not going in yet."

I shrugged. He shrugged in mockery. "Yeah, oh well. Oh well. Whatever," he said. I found his agitation rather amusing.

"You're going on a scouting mission with a few of my marines. If it helps, your other two friends are going in their own scouting groups as well."

It didn't really help. The ODST's he was talking about were not really my 'friends' persay, and I could care less where they went. Of course, I was indifferent about the task given to me. I had done scouting missions a million times before.

He pointed to my group of 5 marines, and I walked over with a shrug.

Four men, one female, and me. I stood their passively, but two of the marines stared at me. One was the female. One was a random male.

I think they saw pain in my eyes. It would never go away, no matter how indifferent I tried to be. It was sad, really.

"Teams, your investigating the valley up north. Operation Quake, as currently planned, launches in four days. Report back their activities or progress so that we may more efficiently plan this. Return with any top priority concerns."

"Yes Sir!"

"Now, move out!"

We went up north for miles. After about an hour of walking, I - and another marine - called halt at the same time.

"Listen," he said. We all stopped.

A sizzle... A smooth "vruuuuuuuuuum"...
I heard a click.

"Dammit," I muttered, then I turned to the group. "Plasma Grenades and Ghosts in our area! Ambu -"

A grenade exploded. We dived. I cursed.

~To be continued




[Edited on 04.29.2011 12:52 PM PDT]

  • 04.28.2011 5:21 PM PDT

~I blame Stosh. Why? .......Dunno either.
XLS Thunderstom--
Legendary Spec Ops
-- Godz of Tactical Combat

I am a Lone Wolf of Reach's Ruins. I am in a Team, and I will listen; although when I can, I go my own way, and lead my own way. When the situation calls, I will do as ordered.
Only when I must.

No comments yet? *Shrug*

If you are reading and not posting to reserve my space, thank you.
If you don't like this, tough.
If you aren't reading this... well, why does this apply anyway?

This is going to be completed whether people here care or not. I am completing this story - all, god only knows how many chapters - whether The Gallery cares or not. :P
(This space will also be reserved for a later chapter.)

[Edited on 04.30.2011 7:17 PM PDT]

  • 04.30.2011 7:16 PM PDT

The tide is turning, brothers! Let us take our kingdom back!


Posted by: Yeww Die
This is going to be completed whether people here care or not. I am completing this story - all, god only knows how many chapters - whether The Gallery cares or not. :P
Now that, my good sir, is a good attitude to have on here.

  • 04.30.2011 10:50 PM PDT

~I blame Stosh. Why? .......Dunno either.
XLS Thunderstom--
Legendary Spec Ops
-- Godz of Tactical Combat

I am a Lone Wolf of Reach's Ruins. I am in a Team, and I will listen; although when I can, I go my own way, and lead my own way. When the situation calls, I will do as ordered.
Only when I must.

Listens to the crickets...
Another chapter for the insects? O.K!


'Entry 4'
Ambush...


Three squads moved out, Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie.

My luck must be terrible. None of the other squads were attacked, of course. But then again, none of them had anything to report.


"Bravo 2 and 4, make that ghost your top priority," I ordered. "Bravo 3, (the female, and the best marksman of the group,) take up a position and snipe!"

Three curt "Yes sirs" responded. I wasn't paying attention, though. I was listening for the ghost, listening for it's gently, subtle noise that had faded out.

I could not hear it now.

"Ragck, tuck sue brack!"

I turned around, and ducked as a blue ball of explosive plasma flew inches above my head. I pulled out my pistol, and shot the Grunts methane tank. It flew, but another replaced it from behind the decently thick shrubbery.

Then a Skirmisher followed. Then an Elite.

"Brav-" I started to say towards Bravo 3, but she was way ahead of me.

The other two turned around, finding another squad of equal proportions facing off against them. I cursed, wishing I had brought more then a pistol.

Charging forward as the marksman distracted the Elite, I ducked another failed grenade toss. I bashed the Grunt's head, and made a failed shot at the Skirmisher. It held two rather annoying wrist-bound shields.

Bravo 3 did not miss, though.

I switched to my Assault Rifle, and shot the Elite. Round after round bounced rather harmlessly off his armor, protected by shields.

Then I heard the vruum...

The Ghost... The dreaded Ghos -

"Isaac!"

I re-focused myself, and look ahead of me. I dived too the side, but too late.

Damn, an Elites kick hurts in the face. It only managed to hit my left cheek, but that still hurt like hell.

I looked upward, and watched in fear as a Plasma Dagger materialized on the Sanghelli's wrist. It came forward, and I could here the sizzling, crackling plasma on its wrist... I waited.

Waited.

It lunged.

......

"Now!" I yelled, and Bravo 3 (for I had not learned her name at the time) took a shot into it's neck.

The elite fell, very much dead. I smiled, but then concentrated.

VruuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMM

It burst out into the clearing. Bravo 1 and 2 ran over towards us, but found themselves intercepted by two more Sanghelli warriors, with some pesky Grunts.

"Sar - Bravo 3, requesting backup fire!" came the voice of Bravo 1.

She nodded, sitting farther back from the group. She was quite efficient at long range with a marksmans rifle.

I looked at the Ghost. I knew the others needed to focus their fire on the squad, but it was too my dismay. I was left alone with the Ghost.

It charged at me, and I dived. It made a U-turn quickly, and I found it shooting burning bolts of plasma my direction.

I ducked behind a scattered tree, and tossed out a grenade.

"Elite Down!"

My grenade did nothing. The others were having better luck. It charged at me again. I dropped a grenade in place, and ducked.

The Ghost flipped, but took minimal damage. It was still scratched. I realized that an Elite - only a simple minor, at that - was commandering the Ghost at that moment, and another realization hit me - shooting it out would be terribly hard.

I had to blow it up -

"Elite Down!"

- and something on the edge of my mind was screaming at me, but I didn't know what...

The Ghost charged and missed. Bravo 1 threw a grenade, and missed. He took out all but two grunts...

Their methane tanks added on to the explosion. Bravo 3 took out one of them...

"Hold your fire!" I ordered, and they stopped, confused.

"But si-"

I silenced him, and charged at the Grunt with relative silence - it was one of my trademarks. I was often reffered to as a Rouge or a Specter. I grabbed it by the neck, and the ghost swerved around.

The Grunt was relatively heavy - I knew I could not chuck it too far.
I had to wait out the charge...

"What are you doing?" the female marksman asked, staring at me incredulously. I only grinned.
"Your target practice. See this Grunt? Shoot it when I tell you too."

She continued to stare at me with confusion, but after a few seconds, understanding dawned on everyone around me.

It charged. I stood in it's way like a crazy maniac.

Oh wait. I was.

Closer... Closer...

"Now!" I yelled to the Marksman, and I dodged too the left, the Grunt hanging in the air.

They collided. She shot.

Then they exploded.

----

Thats where it ends today, folks. If anyone's reading, you have some combat to read now.
*Crickets cheer!*


  • 05.04.2011 1:05 PM PDT

Haha, not many people read this. That's a real shame since you threw us another great chapter.

  • 05.04.2011 1:44 PM PDT