- Rare_Spartan
- |
- Exalted Legendary Member
Posted by: Uberdawg
Gosh, Rare, hurry your slow butt up!
<_<
Seriously though, we need MO' CHAPPAHZ!I concur! >:O
(Warning:This chapter contains spoilers for games that are not Halo 3.....specifically, BioShock and Call of Duty 4; grunts and all.)
Chapter 18: The Cremdelacrap
The Grunt Sergeant opened his eyes, lying in a patch of dark green grass. He lifted his head upward, a large, ominous cloud hovering over him. Coupled with bare trees and dismembered power lines, this canvas was a complete hell hole.
When the Unggoy stood up, he found that his body was covered with a foliagelike material. It was as if he had just stepped out of a mound of leaves- as if he actually become one with nature. Pah, to think I was that unoriginal?
"Too much radiation. We'll have to go 'round." whispered a thick, Scottish accent. The Grunt Sergeant looked forward, and saw a man, who appeared to be covered in the same outfit as he.
"Follow me." the man said, "There's pockets of radiation all over this area. You absorb too much, you're a dead man."
"Erm, if you don't mind me askin', fella- who are you?" the Unggoy asked.
"Don't be silly, lad. It's me- Captain MacMillan."
"Oh, right. How stupid of me." the Grunt Sergeant responded actingly, "Hey, do you know where we are?" MacMillan stared at the Sergeant for a brief three seconds (who was completely unrecognizable through his camouflage, as was the Captain), turned around, and moved forward without any response. The grunt, feeling somewhat irritated, followed the soldier until stopping behind the window of a relatively small house.
"Hold up!" MacMillan ordered, pulling both the Grunt Sergeant and himself below the window. The Grunt Sergeant, still holding his needler (which was also covered in the "foliagelike material"), peaked through the window, only to find two men standing by a flight of stairs. The Captain grabbed the Grunt Sergeant by his shoulder, pulling him back to a crouching position.
"Don't. Even. Think about it."
Fisca turned to his left and retrieved the miniature radio, latching it onto his shoulder plate.
"Listen, this place is gonna self-destruct in just a matter of minutes! Get in there and whack the chump before the whole joint blows!" said the man through the radio. He too had a thick, Scottish accent (though I doubt there's any relation between him and Captain MacMillan). Fisca, unable to use his voice for whatever reason, exited the dark chamber, and entered a slightly less darkened room, with a small, red light flashing from the top of the ceiling.
The Unggoy pressed onward, until he was halted by a glass wall.
"The assassin has overcome my final defense. And now, he has come to murder me." said the man from the other side of the wall. This person appeared to be wearing a brown, leather suit. His black hair was almost completely flat, and the golf club in his hands could do a real number on poor Fisca.
"In the end," the man continued, "What seperates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No. A man chooses, a slave obeys. You think you have memories- a Covenant, a squad, an Ark, and then this place. Was there really a squad? Did that monitor send you here, or were you sent here by something less than a man, bred to sleepwalk through life until they are activated by a simple phrase, spoken by their kindly master? Mas a man sent to kill, or a slave? A man chooses, a slave obeys."
The man turned to his right, and opened the door to Fisca's left. The Unggoy stepped through the door, but was stopped by the tuxedo-wearing bloke.
"A man chooses." he said yet again, handing Fisca his golf club, "A slave obeys.
"Kill!"
The man being so tall, and Fisca so short, the golf club was lunged straight into Andrew Ryan's (the man!) groin. With that, he was down on his knees, squeeling the phrase, "A man chooses, a slave obeys!". Fisca striked a second time in the exact same place, causing Ryan to faint completely.
"Hurry now!" barked the man on the shortwave radio, "Grab Ryan's genetic key! Now, would you kindly put it in that damn machine?!"
Fisca reached into the "sleeping" man's pocket, and reached for a small, golden card. The Unggoy ran out of the chamber, and through the door to his right, where an enormous, piano-looking structure stood. Fisca slid the card into the slot at the front of the mechanical beast, causing the rumbling of the floor to cease.
The man on the radio sighed, then said, "Nice work, bo- what the?" Within the next two seconds, the only sound coming from Fisca's radio was a faint wail. Less than ten seconds later, the connection with the Unggoy and the unknown voice was cut off.
Just then, the door behind him burst open, revealing over a dozen Flood soldiers, infection and combat forms alike.
"Sinner!"