Fan-Fic: Struggle Against The Covenant

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SPARTAN II

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Didn't know where else to post this, but this is a l'il someting I wrote back in November 2006 on another HALO-related forum, just found it again recently while going through some things. Thought you all might enjoy a good read ;)



[BEGIN STORY]



A fleeting moment of consciousness, of being encassed in some sort of metal chamber. Then, a loud explosion, and the sudden sensation of being weightless, of floating through space. The moment of consciousness ended with a harsh, jolting thud, of hitting something solid. Then, consciousness faded away...



***



When he finally came to again, he awoke to find himself lying haphazardly on the cold, hard steel that served as the deck plating for the room he was in, next to one of the bulkheads that double-served as a support brace for the catwalk overhead. Everything was trembling, and he could hear muffled explosions and yells from outside the room.



Struggling to his feet, he took in his surroundings: the shattered glass on the deck from the control room above; torn, burnt pieces of metal from what was the cryogenic chamber he had been situated in. There was a large hole in the far wall, where one of the canisters holding the chemicals used in the cryogenic process had been. He surmised it had somehow exploded, and it was that resulting explosion that had ripped apart his cryogenic chamber and thrown him to the other side of the room.



Amidst the debris scattered about the deck, he was pleased to see there had been no one else in the Cryogenics Bay when the explosion occured. That, of course, raised the question of just where everyone had gone to, as it was standard UNSC procedure to unseal the occupants in the cryogenic chambers and then calibrate them and thier MJOLNIR armour for reinstatement to active duty.



The lack of qualified personnel to partake in these procedures, and the obvious damage sustained not just here but most likely elsewhere, meant something had gone horribly awry during his cryogenic awakening.



The SPARTAN, in his standard-issue green MJOLNIR armour, made his way to one of the doors leading out of the Cryogenics Bay. He tried pressing the button on the control panel to the right of the door, but aside from a slight hiss from the door's hydraulics, followed by a heavy clunking sound, nothing happened.



Sighing quietly under his breath, he calmly braced himself against one side of the doorframe, his foot propped up on the opposite side, and sliding his gloved fingers into the crevice between the doors, used all of his biologically- and MJOLNIR-enhanced strength to pry the door open.



With an ear-splitting protest of screeching metal, the doors slowly inched open. Once they hit the half-way mark, they opened effortlessly the rest of the way. The SPARTAN wasted no time in sliding through the doors into the adjacent hallway.



Out on this side of the Cryogenics Bay, the scene was far worse than what he witnessed inside. There were plasma burns and scorch marks on the corridor walls, holes where equipment had ruptured and exploded, small fires angling out of said holes, and bodies lying on the deck plating. He noticed there was some purple and orange blood sparsely splattered on the deck, but the amount of red human blood was far more thickly dispersed.



Also, on this side of the Cryogenics Bay doors, he could more clearly hear the yells from UNSC soldiers nearby, as well as weapons fire and distant explosions.



Not wasting anymore time assessing his surroundings and the situation -- it was quite evident that wherever he was, his UNSC counterparts were under heavy assault from Covenant forces -- the SPARTAN quickly looked amongst the dead bodies for any weapons, finding a standard M6D Pistol and an SMG. Checking thier ammo count and chambering a round in each for his expected confrontation with Covenant forces, he sprinted down the corridor to aid assistance to whoever he came across.



Out of habit, his eyes shifted to the bottom-left corner of his visor to see if he could pick up any FoF markers in the vacinity, but all he could see was a blank circle. It dawned on him that as the calibration hadn't been completed on his suit's systems it was most likely that none of the data-stream features of his Heads Up Display would be in working order. Again, he sighed quietly to himself as he made his way through the corridors.



***



It didn't take long for him to come across a group of marines ducked behind a hastily-assembled barrier, consisting of heavy metal crates. They were using the barrier for cover from incoming Covenant weapons fire, quickly popping thier heads up every now and then to take pot-shots at the Covenant troops further down the corridor. None of them seemed to take notice of the six-foot-tall figure in full-blown MJOLNIR armour as he slid past them and proceeded down an adjoining side corridor which would take him closer to the Covenants' position.



Quietly, yet quickly moving down the side corridor, the SPARTAN could see a sporadic blue reflection on the wall of one of the short corridors that branched off of the one he was in, leading back into the main corridor where the marines were going head-to-head with the Covenant. Obviously, the reflection coming from the Covenant hand weapons as they fired at the marines bunked in at the other end of the hallway.



Crouching, he carefully peeked around the corner and saw two Elites, accompanied by three Grunts. Out of instinct, the SPARTAN reached for his waist to grab and prime a grenade to throw at the Covenant. As he hadn't been properly brought out of cryogenic sleep, he hadn't been given the standard assortment of weaponry he would usually have to rely on. Sighing once again, he let the SMG hang to his side and grabbed the Pistol with both hands.



Not being able to use the Zoom feature, which was one of the components integrated into his HUD, all he could do was eye-ball his intended point of impact. Aiming the Pistol at the neck of one of the Elites, he inhaled and fired a single round.



A deafening bang echoed in the closed confines of the corridor walls as the solid metal projectile left the barrel of the gun, flew threw the air and successfully lodged itself in the unprotected neck of the Elite. The gargantuous blue-armoured alien let loose a blood-gurgling scream as he dropped his Plasma Pistol and grabbed frantically at his neck. A moment later he fell over onto the deck plating, motionless.



This, of course, alerted the other Covenant there of another target, and the remaining Elite and one of the Grunts turned thier attention to the new attacker, while the other two Grunts continued to fire upon the marines holed-up further down the corridor.



The SPARTAN quickly withdrew around the corner, taking a few steps back as bright blue Plasma shot past, scorching the far wall. As he was checking the status of his weapons, without warning the other Elite jumped out from around the corner and glared at him. The red-armoured Elite screamed something before charging at the armour-clad human.



Bringing up the Pistol to fire again, the SPARTAN was dismayed to find the firing mechanism had jammed somehow, as when he pulled the trigger, all he heard was a faint clicking noise. He immediately dropped the useless sidearm and was about to bring the SMG to bear when the Elite charged into him full-speed, using his Plasma Pistol as a sort of bludgeon to hit the green-armoured figure on the side of the head. The combined full-frontal charge into his chest and the side-swiping back-hand to his helmet resulted in the SPARTAN being thrown up and away off the ground, landing about ten feet back down the corridor.



Quickly jumping back on his feet, the SPARTAN brought up his SMG and fired a few short bursts at the Elite, the bullets ricocheting off the alien's armour and flaring his protective Plasma Shielding. Realizing the futility in the gesture, he discarded the SMG and prepared himself for a hand-to-hand combat confrontation with the angry six-foot-plus-tall Elite.



As the screaming alien charged him once more, at the last moment the SPARTAN quickly side-stepped the Elite's aggressive charge and slammed his right fist into his opponent's face as he ran past, sharply snapping the Elite's head to the right. Caught off-balance by the SPARTAN's move, he flew right past the armour-clad figure and didn't have enough time to react before the SPARTAN laid a well-placed low-kick to his left ankle, snapping the bone just below the protective shin armour.



Stumbling downward, he was now at just the right height for the determined SPARTAN to wrap his arm around his neck. Placing his other hand on one side of the Elite's head, in one quick motion he abruptly snapped the alien's neck to the left, and the Elite dropped to the deck plating with a loud clank of metal on metal. It took some effort, as the Elite's neck muscles were rather tough, but he managed. Breathing a little heavily, the SPARTAN reprocured his SMG and picked up the Elite's Plasma Pistol and headed back to where the Grunts were still positioned.



The Grunt that had turned on him in unison with the second Elite was now firing back at the marines with the other two; clearly, the ugly dog-like alien thought that the Elite would have more than dealt with a single UNSC soldier, armour or not. That complacency worked out to the SPARTAN's advantage, as the three Grunts were so focused on the marines down the hallway that none of them saw the hulking figure come back around the corner and emerge behind them.



Being of the lower warrior caste in the Covenant heirarchy, it didn't take much effort at all for the SPARTAN to eliminate them. The one closest to the side corridor found his air tank hose disconnected, ending up on the deck gasping for methane, his planet's natural atmosphere, that was no longer seeping into the respirator on his face.



The next one simply collapsed from a hard hit on the top of the head from the Plasma Pistol the SPARTAN was now wielding, the vertebra at the base of his skull crushed. The last Grunt standing suddenly found himself thrown to the deck with a heavy weight on his back, the SPARTAN having tripped him and placing his booted foot on the little creature's back, firing a short burst from his SMG into the back of the Grunt's head.



With this immediate threat now taken care of, the SPARTAN called all-clear to the marines at the other end of the corridor. Slowly, cautiously, they popped thier heads up above the protective barrier with thier weapons raised and ready. Seeing that the Covenant group had indeed been eliminated, they casually, tiredly stood up and eyed the armoured UNSC super-soldier at the other end of the hallway, who was now walking toward them.



"Report", was all the SPARTAN stated to the weary-eyed marines.



"Well sir, we were on our way to dock with one of the defense platforms in orbit over Earth, before heading down to the planet's surface to help aid the UNSC forces fighting against the already dug-in Covenant forces down there, when suddenly a large Covenant fleet appeared out of slip-stream and without hesitation commenced an attack on our ship.



They threw everything they had at us, just enough to bring down our defenses so they could send over a handful of thier boarding vessels. Once they got on board, all hell broke loose. We were heading to help fortify the bridge when we took heavy fire from this group. Thank god you came around when you did, sir. We took a few casualties and were starting to run low on ammo. Didn't know how much longer we could hold them off."



The SPARTAN nodded at the marine, quietly lost in thought for a moment.



"Okay, this is what I want you and your men to do. Take the bulk of your group and go, as ordered, to the bridge to help fortify that position. Hopefully the Covenant will not have gained control of that critical area yet. Assign two of your men to take the wounded to the Infirmary, make sure thier injuries are tended to. Those are your orders."



"Aye aye, sir!" The marine acknowledged with a sharp salute. The SPARTAN returned the gesture and turned to head down the corridor.



"And just where will you be heading, sir?"



"I'm certain there are other such encounters as this elsewhere throughout the ship. I'm going to see what I can do to help. If you could actually provide me with a few extra clips from one of your men's SMGs before I go, it would be much appreciated."



The marine in charge gathered up what extra ammunition he could from the weapons of the wounded soldiers and handed them to the SPARTAN. "Good luck, sir. Give those Covenant b*****ds hell."



With a curt nod, the man in the MJOLNIR armour turned and sprinted down the corridor, looking for any remaining Covenant forces aboard ship. Hopefully, he would get to them before they had complete control of the ship.



***



More to come... :cool



NOTE TO THE READER(S):



In case anyone is wondering, the SPARTAN referred to in the story is not the Master Chief. I know the initial setting -- that of a Cryogenics Bay on board a UNSC ship -- is reminiscent of the first game, and most readers would immediately think of that. However, that was not my intent.



I simply wanted to start the story off in a familiar environment, though not the same as experienced by players in the first game, with the identity of the SPARTAN deliberately being unknown to the reader(s).



Although, I will say there's a possibility of this SPARTAN being one of those few that was off-planet when Reach was destroyed by the Covenant, and has now been brought back to Earth after the news of Reach's demise.



I don't want to give away too many details, as that would ruin some of the upcoming parts of the storyline I will be posting here, but I hope what I did divulge above helps to answer a few things.
 
So as not to make each post too long, I will be breaking up what I've written so far into smaller parts. And here begins the next installment :)



PART TWO



The SPARTAN kept running... running... running... through the battle-scarred corridors of the ship, desperately looking for any UNSC personnel still alive. Much of what he came across was rather disconcerting, however; blood-covered bodies of marines and other ship's personnel, the stench of Plasma-burned flesh hanging heavily in the air. With bitter satisfaction he noticed the occasional Elite, Grunt or Jackal lying amongst the carnage, but the death toll was easily two-times more in the Covenants' favour.



As he continued through the war-torn hallways of the vessel, he was starting to lose hope he would find anyone left alive when suddenly he heard a human scream coming from a Weapons Locker Room just up ahead on the left. Peeking his head around the corner of the door, he saw several other marines lying still on the deck in front of him, some clearly having died from point-blank range Plasma fire, and others showing signs of severe physical trauma.



Further in the room, closer to the set of doors at the other end, he saw a black-armoured Elite standing tall, a marine firmly in his grasp a foot or two above the deck, the man frantically clawing at the hand around his throat, gasping for breath.



It only took a brief moment for the SPARTAN to consider his options before he sprung into action. The super-soldier dashed across the room, wrapping his arms around the Elite's waist and bringing him down to the ground, the two armoured figures clattering to the deck in a tangled mess. Surprised by the attack, the Elite lost his grip on the marine's throat, and he too fell to the deck a few feet away.



Not bothering to get himself out of the twisted position he and the Elite were in, the SPARTAN just started bludgeoning the Elite with the Plasma Pistol still in his hand. At the same time, he clenched his free hand into a fist and began clobbering him double-time. The impacts flared the alien's Plasma Shielding the first few hits, but then flared and disappeared, its power supply drained.



Letting out an ear-splitting scream, all the Elite could do was bring up his arms to deflect the seemingly-crazed human soldier's forceful attacks, the SPARTAN's biologically- and MJOLNIR-enhanced strength sending vibrations through the stunned alien and his armour. The Elite was obviously taken back by the extremely-physical attack, as experience had shown the Covenant that UNSC forces often preferred to maintain a relative distance from them while engaged in battle.



In this case, however, it seemed as though the heavily-armoured soldier had no qualms about engaging his enemy in hand-to-hand combat. It was this sudden change in tactics that distracted the Elite from reacting effectively.



Struggling to get out from under the human, the Elite suddenly found a knee in his groin and a foot holding down his left arm at the elbow, the amazingly-strong human clearly having gained the upper ground as he now more or less straddled the enraged alien. Then, ironically -- just as he had done to the UNSC marine minutes before -- he found a hand firmly clenched around his neck, holding his head to the deck. The last thing he saw was a bright blue light in his face, as the SPARTAN had placed the Plasma Pistol up against one side of his head and fired repeatedly, purplish-blue blood splattering his olive-green armour.



With the Elite's struggling ceased, and certain he had more then sufficiently killed the beast, the SPARTAN stood up and walked over to the marine who was so very near death a few minutes before. The man lay still on the floor, unmoving. The SPARTAN knelt down to check for a pulse, finding none. It appeared that when the Elite lost his grip on the marine, something in the way he threw him to the deck must have done something to his neck.



Sighing heavily, the SPARTAN searched the room's occupants to find any useful weapons, as the charge in the Plasma Pistol he had was running low. Scavenging through the bodies of the dead, he managed to come up with a BR-55 Battle Rifle with a few extra clips, and a Magnum Pistol. Shouldering the Battle Rifle and hefting the Magnum in his hand, he prayed it wouldn't jam as the M6D had. That had always been a flaw in the M6D, hence why the UNSC came out with the Magnum to replace its predecessor.



Just as the SPARTAN was heading out the door of the Weapons Locker Room, a huge explosion reverberated throughout the ship, making him grab onto the door frame to keep his balance. Once the noise from the explosion subsided, all the SPARTAN could hear was an eerie, encompassing silence. No more smaller explosions in the distance or yells from UNSC marines trying to hold thier ground against the Covenant boarders. Nothing.



With a sick, heavy sensation forming in the pit of his stomach, the SPARTAN sprinted through the corridors in an attempt to get to the Bridge. He didn't know if he would find anyone alive there, but at least with all the computers there at his disposal he could find out what had just happened that caused that immense explosion.



About fifteen minutes later, after going through a maze of corridors and climbing a number of access ladders, the SPARTAN finally found himself standing just outside of the Bridge. Like the rest of the ship he had gone through, it was deathly quiet here. With Battle Rifle raised and at the ready, he slowly stepped onto the Bridge.



The scene here was pretty much the same he had seen throughout the ship: Plasma burns and scorch marks on the ceiling, walls and deck, blood of several colours sprayed everywhere, gaping holes in some of the consoles that had exploded, sparks and flames erupting from said holes. However, he was pleasantly surprised to notice there weren't many bodies; he counted only three, and none of them were of the Command staff.



His weapon still poised to fire, the SPARTAN moved ahead toward to the front of the Bridge. Shuffling around several large metal crates that had been placed on the deck to act as a sort of barrier at each entrance to the Command area of the Bridge, there he found a most unsettling sight; the thick panes of glass that encased the forward part of the Bridge had been blown out, only small jagged pieces still hung in the window framing.



It was then that he realized that may have been the reason why there weren't many bodies here, as when the Bridge decompressed the ones closer to the forward section would've immediately been sucked out, while the ones closer to the rear of the Bridge weren't all blown out with the rest as the decompression quickly ceased.



Shaking his head and sighing once again, he quickly put it out of his mind as he searched for the Engineering console that would, he hoped, show the extent of the damage to the ship and the reason for the large explosion he'd heard and felt before arriving here. Luckily, the Engineering console, connected directly the engineering section further within the ship, was still in decent condition, one of the few on the Bridge that hadn't been irreparably damaged or destroyed.



Bringing up the last data-stream from Engineering just prior to the explosion, instead of seeing the cause as some sort of internal explosion due to maybe an Anti-matter Charge (which he assumed it would most likely have been), the information indicated that the large explosion was the result of an external impact with the hull. More accurately, that of a Plasma Beam fired from one of the Covenant capital ships.



Looking at the green-glowing display screen, from what he could tell it appeared as though the blast had torn through most of the rear section of the ship where the engines were located, leaving only one of the smaller propulsion units adjacent to the main engines intact. That might have offered the SPARTAN some maneuverability with the ship, if the fuel line connection to that one remaining engine hadn't been severed in the attack.



As things stood at that moment, the ship was caught in a decaying orbit around Earth, meaning there could only be outcome to this; the ship, with however many survivors left onboard (if any), would crash on the planet below in less than an hour. The resulting explosion from the impact would cause severe damage if the ship touched down in a populated area.



Shaking his head, slight frustration starting to well up inside him, the SPARTAN walked back to the once-glass-encased forward section of the Bridge to take a quick gander outside the ship, to see how things were faring for the other UNSC ships and the defense platforms floating in orbit.



The other UNSC-controlled vessels high in orbit of Earth were taking some heavy hits, but he was pleased to see that although some of them had taken severe damage the only ships left drifting and burning in space were from the Covenant fleet that had suddenly jumped out of slip-stream. The defense platforms seemed to be doing a good job of keeping the enemy ships at bay, as well.



Just then, there was a bright flash to the right of the SPARTAN's peripheral view. As he turned to watch, one of the defense platforms disappeared in a large cloud of sparks and flying debris. It looked like the Covenant had managed to get thier first big hit on the opposing UNSC forces, although the UNSC ships were still doing a bang-up job of mopping the cosmos with those blasted Covenant.



Continuing to look through what was left of the forward windows, the SPARTAN noticed the tell-tale signs of the ship hitting the upper atmosphere; strands of bright yellow and orange flicked around the edges of the broken window frames.



Deciding it would be prudent to leave, the green-armoured human quickly turned and exited the Bridge, determining his best course of action would be to find an operational escape pod or ODST drop pod to escape the dying vessel. Or perhaps, if he could manage to make it to the Hangar Bay in time, there may be a Pelican dropship or Longsword fighter still tied down to the deck.



Given what little time he figured he had left before the ship entered the lower atmosphere just before colliding with the planet's suface, he thought better of the second option and chose instead to find any pod that would still be in working order. Taking a left just outside the Bridge, it didn't take long for him to come across one of the corridors that housed a row of escape pod entry hatches.



Putting his reflective visor up against each hatch and cupping his hands around his helmet to keep out the light, he was disappointed to find the first hatch was empty. Same with the second and third ones. Luckily, on the fourth search he saw an empty escape pod just on the other side of the hatch, patiently awaiting an occupant.



The SPARTAN pressed the control panel to the right of the hatch, but as with the doors leading from the Cryogenics Bay it refused to budge. Unlike his previous attempt, however, he knew he couldn't simply squeeze his hands in and pry it open, as the hatch was designed to open upward, not sideways. That, and as it was a one-piece door, when closed the bottom edge was securely sealed in the track along the bottom of the hatch's frame.



Desperate to beat the clock, he tore off the control panel and fiddled with the wires inside until one of the connections he made urged the hatch to open up, and he quickly jumped inside. Running up to the cockpit, he closed the back access hatch and secured himself in the pilot's seat, typing in a series of commands to start up the launch sequence that would eject him from this tumbling death trap.



[PART TWO END]



I'll post the next part shortly (I'm copy/pasting it from where I originally posted it online)... :cool
 
And the story continues...



PART THREE



As the pod's onboard computer began going through the start-up sequence, it was then that he noticed the red caution button flashing in the top-right corner of the control panel. One of the release clamps holding the escape pod in place was jammed, and would not unlatch. Actually cursing under his breath this time, the SPARTAN unsecured himself from the pilot's seat and made his way out of that pod in the hopes of finding another suitable vehicle in which to make his escape.



Exiting out into the corridor, he remained fixed where he stood for a moment looking up and down each end of the hallway, trying to figure out just which way would get him to more escape pods and the like. Not having familiarized himself with the layout of the ship either before or after being put in cryogenic stasis, he drew a blank as to which would be the right direction to go in.



Sighing quietly to himself behind the reflective visor of his helmet, the SPARTAN decided to turn right and go the opposite direction from which he'd come into the corridor. Turning the corner at that end of the hallway, he came to a stop as he found his path barred by massive debris; the bulkheads supporting this portion of the ship, even this far forward of the beam-destroyed aft section, had given way and collapsed, crushing anything or anyone that may have been in this area. Flames and thick smoke obscured his view of what lay at the other end of this section of corridor.



With no choice but to turn back, the armour-clad soldier sprinted back down to the other end, nearly losing his balance as a violent vibration travelled throughout the ship. It was quite apparent the vessel was starting to fall apart due to the atmospheric pressures it was being subjected to as it fell further into the atmosphere of Earth. Time was quickly running out.



It would take far too long for him to locate the Hangar Bay, even if there was a chance a Pelican or Longsword was still secured in that area, so instead the SPARTAN made a bee-line back to the devastated Bridge. Upon entering he made his way back to the forward end of the Bridge. Standing there, just in front of the blown-out windows, he considered his options. It was a mighty big risk, but given the circumstances he realized there wasn't much else he could do.



He waited until the yellow and orange strands of flame licking at the window frame dissipated, indicating that he was far enough into the lower atmosphere that there wasn't much friction, then firmly grabbed one side of the window frame and pulled himself outside against the hull plating. Taking a quick glance down, he could clearly see a city below, little flashes of light -- obviously weapons fire being exchanged between UNSC and Covenant -- explosions and thick plumes of smoke arcing into the sky.



The SPARTAN exerted all of his biologically- and MJOLNIR-enhanced strength to pull himself up above the gaping Bridge windows, his gauntlet-covered hands finding the tiny separation lines between the hull plates and bringing himself up to a Communication/Sensor antenna array that jutted out from the hull of the dying ship. He grabbed on tight with both hands and brought himself up and over, coming to a sitting position on top of the antenna with his legs wrapped around it. Then, he sat silently and kept an eye on the vessel's declining altitude.



From his vantage point up there, he could see the ship was going to impact with at least some part of the city, and prayed that the city below had been evacuated prior to the Covenant occupation, resulting in no loss of civilian lives when this hulking chunk of metal came crashing down. He wasn't quite sure just what he would do to avoid the crash, but could see the plummeting vessel would pass by several large high-rise buildings on its way down to the surface. With only a few minutes left before touch-down, he started formulating a plan.



If he could time it just right, he should be able to launch himself off the hull of the ship and glide down alongside one of those high-rises, grab onto something on the side of one and control his descent to the ground below. He hoped his augmented body and Mk VI MJOLNIR armor would be able to withstand the strain of such a descent. To most it would seem an insane attempt, but as he had no other viable options open to him it seemed the most practical.



Making quick last-minute calculations in his head, he started counting down and prepared himself for the jump. Slowly inching backward on the antenna array, his legs still wrapped tightly around it, upon backing up into the hull he brought himself up into a crouching position and braced his arms against the hull behind him.



As the wind whipped at his sealed visor, loud screaching and groaning sounds coming from the twisting and crumbling hull of the ship behind him, he started a five-second countdown as the vessel passed by the rooftop of one of the high-rise structures.



Five... he tensed his leg muscles, anticipating the tremendous effort his legs would have to exert to successfully clear him of the ship as it continued to fall past him...



Four... in less than a second, he spotted his makeshift LZ, a partially-enclosed balcony eight floors above the ground...



Three... he eyed the ground below, which quickly rushed up to meet him...



Two... he took a deep breath... and...



One... keeping his eyes open, fighting against the urge to close them tight, he pushed himself away from the hull, suddenly free-floating downward...



Time seemed to slow down for the SPARTAN as he drifted down to the balcony below. He crossed his arms over his chest, curled his head inward and brought up his legs just before crashing through the glass-framed side of the balcony. Rolled up into a ball, he continued across the concrete slab and smashed through the other side, immediately opening himself up and grabbing at a thick pipe that ran down that side of the balcony.



With a hand on either side of the pipe, his feet similarly placed, he shimmied down the pipe until he hit the ground with a loud thud. The impact sent vibrations through his legs and up through his torso, and his muscles instinctively let go, making him fall to one side on the manicured landscaping in front of the building.



Laying there, panting heavily, his mouth bone-dry, he turned his head to the left just in time to see the UNSC vessel smash nose-first into the earth. The ship protested in high-pitched tones as the additional stresses tore the remaining hull apart as it dug into and slid across the ground, crashing through buildings and crushing parked and abandoned vehicles in its path. Due to the Engineering section of the ship having been blown away up in orbit by that Covenant beam weapon, there was no power source left onboard to cause a huge explosion of any sort.



The grotesquely twisted and tortured ship finally came to a grinding halt several hundred yards beyond where the SPARTAN lay, falling over on its side as its forward momentum subsided and gravity took over. A large dust cloud enveloped the ruined vessel and the area surrounding it.



Taking in deep breaths, his head finally stopped spinning, he slowly rolled over onto his side and into a crouching position on the flattened grass beneath him. As he tried to stand, he winced ever so slightly as a stab of pain shot up through his left side. It felt as though he may have dislocated his shoulder, and most likely fractured something in his leg, if not broken it.



Shaking it off as best he could, he stood up straight and walked over to the pipe he'd come down on, and outstretching his right arm against the reflective glass wall of the high-rise, threw his left arm into the piping, a muffled popping sound emanating from underneath his suit's thick armour. Moving his left arm in circles, convinced he'd managed to pop it back into its socket, he turned around and viewed his new surroundings.



Aside from the damage sustained to the surrounding area from the UNSC vessel's impact, the SPARTAN could tell there had been plenty of the same incurred prior to that, as many of the buildings clearly showed signs of being severely compromised structurally. There were support beams in walls and ceilings overhead that had been melted through by Covenant weapons fire, large gaping holes in walls that allowed one to see straight through one end of a building to the other, some buildings were missing thier top floors, now completely open to the outside, and in some cases all that remained of a building was a smoldering foundation.



The streets weren't in any better condition; he could see deep, smoking, black-edged craters all up and down the stretch of road in front of him, little pieces of metal and glass indicating where parked cars had once stood. He surmised that this level of destruction was most likely the result of the Covenant's Wraith tanks, or a wandering Scarab. He wondered if anyone had been present for the initial onslaught here, and if so just how many innocent people had lost thier lives as a result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.



Shaking his head somberly, he quickly put the thought from his mind and decided it was best to evaluate the combative situation in the immediate region. Although there were no survivors or Covenant presence right where he was, he could hear distant explosions and the exchange of weapons fire, so there were clearly UNSC personnel in the area still fighting off the Covenant insurgency. Looking up and down the length of street in front of the building he'd come down from, he turned to his right and sprinted around that corner of the building.



Coming around the corner, his visor immediately dimmed to compensate for the bright daylight shining down from the sun high in the sky. It must have been somewhere around noon, given the position of the sun above him. He was actually surprised that his MJOLNIR armour reactively made the contrast adjustment, as he had thought all of the peripheral sub-systems in his suit weren't in working order since they hadn't been properly calibrated upon his emergence from cryogenic stasis aboard ship. Perhaps the impact of his fall had somehow roughly kick-started some of those features.



He checked his HUD for any displayed information, but those areas on the sides of his visor's view were still dark, his motion tracker/FoF indicator only a blank circle.



[PART THREE END]



I'm pretty sure I added more to this after posting it online way back when, but at the moment can't find the MS Word document I'd saved this as on my hard drive. It may be on disc (I did reformat my computer a while ago), so I'll have to look for it. Hope everyone likes what I've posted so far, though. Questions and comments are welcome, as always ;)
 
Thanks. I think I did a rather good job of making it very concise and clearly thought out, with no spelling or grammatical errors (I majored in all English and Creative Writing courses back in high school, so I'd hope I could properly spell and use proper sentence structure, lol). Now, if only I can find the rest of what I wrote, I can add more to the story :p



I'd also participated (for a short time) in an online MMORPG on this other HALO-related forum. Had some good interactions with the character I'd developed for it. I'll see if I can find that there and copy/paste it and make it into another story here :cool
 
Just a quick bump so someone in the Admin/Mod group can move this to the proper forum (HALO Universe)? Thanks :)
 
So much win amigo, just so much win.



My ODST story is nothing compared to yours.



I hope you find the rest.





-Pony
 
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