- Gottalovec4
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- Noble Legendary Member
About me: I am a vicious wolf of a man.
But really am sweet at heart. =)
October 23 2550 0012 Hours
ONI Training and Proving Center, Onyx, 20 miles outside Camp Curahee
Allen checked the ammo counter on his MA5K again on his HUD, pulled out the magazine to check his round count manually, then slammed it home in the pitch black. The nervous tick could be irritating to some, but Allen had been caught off guard before, he shuddered just thinking of the scars the 122nd Marine Battalion had given him when he had been cornered on the Hopeful. Another minute ticked by on the chronometer, then another.
Damn, still no contact.
The whole company was playing one big war game tonight. Split into individual fireteams the goal was simple, be the last team alive, and there would be no PT for a week: a welcome respite, and every Spartan hated wall sits. Realized the odds of winning alone were slim, Team Grendel had approached fireteam Zulu to work together against the other teams until they were the last remaining. A cheap tactic, but so was glassing a planet from orbit, Allen thought bitterly. Ten minutes had passed since the proposed meeting time however, something had gone wrong.
"Maybe someone got them on the way here?" offered Casey-388, adjusting his MA5D SAW from behind his position.
"No, we've got rubber bullets, not TTR rounds and even with reduced loads, we'd hear any engagement" responded Gregori 306, the team's ballistic expert. As he spoke, Aria-301 crawled over to him and hefted her MA2B up on the lip of his position in the forest loam and opened a private comm.
"You got a funny felling about this too?" she asked in her southern dialect.
"Yeah"Allen started. "Spartan teams don't just disappear." He said before warily scanning the area again with his rifle down. "I was thinking maybe trainers.but Mendez swore they wouldn't interfere..." Allen said, distracted again.
"Orders then cheif?" asked Casey, checking the 50 round magazine on his M7S, his Irish brogue thickening.
"We lay low until Gregori here sees anything out of the ordinary" he patted their sniper on the back.
"Sir, I mighthave something now." He droned, scooting over so the team lead could look down his Oracle scope.
What Allen saw amazed him, and chilled him to the core as it reminded him of one to many ghost stories that floated around the camp. He tried to rub his eyes, forgetting he was decked out in full SPI. It looked like a floating red eye. But he switched to night vision, he saw that it was made up of several triangles all floating independently of one another.
He sent the feed to the others, who were all in different stages of amazement.
"Sirdo you think its Covenant?" asked Aria, now checking her rifle.
"Must benot even Div 5 has anti grav techwe're alerting Camp Charlie right now, Greg! Get me on the horn!" Allen shouted, reaching for the pack portable radio Gregori carried as the team's scout.
He pulled a cord and connected it to his SPI helmet, boosting his range to SATNET in orbit so it could bounce down to Camp Curahee.
"Curahee, this is Grendel Actual, come in." Static. The Covenant already had jammers up, and some new type of drone.
"Grendel, listen up, HQ is a no go, but we're Spartans, we're gonna go after that thing, see where it leads us."
"Uhh sir I'd LOVE to die for my country and all, but we aint exactly well equipped here..." Casey protested, gesturing at their rubber ammunition.
"We've been worse, this is what we've been trained for, now move out." Allen ordered, polarizing his SPI helmet's visor and disappearing into the foliage.
One by one the whole team followed him, with Gregori taking up the rear.
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My apologies that this chapter is so short. I WILL make it up to you guys, but I'm juggling a job and ton of college classes. Rest assured Ch4 will be much longer.
[Edited on 11.04.2011 12:56 PM PDT]