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Halo The Untold Chronicles By: Landon Savino The Flood Infection Form slithered past Master Chief’s faceplate and despite his frantic efforts to remove it, refused to let go. As it neared the base of Master Chief’s skull, it cut into the back of his neck and slid its sharp needle down toward his spine. The entire world disappeared in a flash of intense pain, which was replaced almost instantly with the feeling of ice filling his mind, not unlike the freezing Mercury sensation of Cortana entering his head. Cortana, Master Chief thought, where is she? He listened for her but heard only a muffed voice far away. He screamed a silent scream as his mind shattered and the world went black. John woke with a start, sweat soaking through the light sleeping shirt he had been wearing. Shaking his head he cleared the horrifying images of the receding dream from his thoughts. He had yet to remove the terrifying memories of this close encounter with the Flood from his mind. He glanced around the room at the ferrocrete walls and steel bunks of the underground HQ in the Eastern African Protectorate. The holo pad next to his MJOLNIR armor whirred to life, and Cortana’s image appeared in the air, numbers and symbols streaming down her semitransparent body. “Dreaming again, Master Chief?” she asked, observing the Spartan’s shaken and ragged appearance. “Still the same dream.” grunted John in reply. “Well Master Chief, you are wanted in the Command Center as soon as possible.” She stated cheerily. “Tell them I will be there in 10.” replied John, swinging himself out of bed. After a quick shower, he pulled on his form fitting under suit. He deftly lifted his heavyset frame into the open armor, and felt it close about him in a series of hydraulic hisses. He snapped on his helmet, and as the suit powered up, he smelled the familiar sent of recycled air. The HUD powered up showing his health and shield monitors to be full. He switched off his shields after doing a diagnostic to reduce problems moving in the cramped base. He grabbed his M6C pistol and swung it around the room, making sure his auto-syncing scope was working properly. With the start-up procedures completed he moved out of his room into the crowded hallway. People turned in shielded amazement toward the 7-foot tall Spartan in his ghostly green armor. A path quickly appeared through the crowd as John made his way toward the Command Center. He arrived in the CC to be met by General Hill and Sergeant Johnson. “Spartan 117 reporting as ordered!” barked John as he snapped the pair a crisp salute. “At ease Master Chief.” motioned Hill after a return salute. John moved his feet shoulder width apart and clasped his hands behind his back in parade rest. “We have a problem weed need you, Fred, Will, and the Sergeant over here to help us with.” said Hill grinning. “The Spartans and a squad of ODST will be assaulting and destroying a Covenant-held building, which they have turned into a permanent HQ.” “Sir,” added Master Chief, “My Spartans and I work alone; I believe that the ODST will only burden us with casualties.” “I thought of that Master Chief,” laughed Hill in response. “The Sergeant and his troopers will be running a diversionary series of hit-and-run attacks to draw reinforcements away from the HQ. Not only do we want you to destroy the building but also the Covenant Cruiser sending supplies to the surface. You will be provided with nuclear ordinance to accomplish that task. Are there any questions? If not you are dismissed to the ready room for departure at 2200.” There were no questions. Hours later Master Chief sat in the ready room overseeing the preparation of the equipment for the mission. In his trademark show of mission prep, Fred was twirling his combat knife between his fingers, his newly assembled shotgun lying at his side. Will was packing plastic explosives in a bulletproof satchel along with the tiny nuclear device. In a stark contrast to the cool Spartan’s the ODST seemed nervous, but did a good job of hiding it behind their helmets. The Sergeant walked into the room, sporting his BR55 Rifle. “Lets do a final check here people!” he shouted. “We are moving out!” Master Chief marched over to the bay’s holo pad and as if in response to his motion Cortana appeared. “Pull me so we can get this over with.” She sighed. Master Chief pushed a few buttons at the base of the machine and a chip containing Cortana’s code popped out of the port. He grabbed the chip and reached around to the base of his skull and inserted it into the top most of the two slots implanted into his skull. Ice flooded into his brain and down his spine as Cortana rushed into his mind. He shivered slightly as visions of the Flood encounter streaked through his memory. “Well I think there is more space in here than the last time Chief,” jibed Cortana. “Did you have a nice rest?” replied John as cool as could be, ignoring his old friend’s playful jests. “Yes thank you, now move along,” she said. Master Chief glanced over to the wall where the ODST were busy grabbing battle rifles and grenades off of a weapons rack. A few also took rocket launchers and sniper rifles. Master Chief walked over and after securing four grenades to his ammo belt he grabbed a Battle Rifle and slung it over his shoulder. After shunning the pistol he had been carrying for the past few hours, he replaced it with a M7 Caseless SMG for each hand, and on reflection screwed silencers onto all of the weapons. Will grabbed a battle rifle and extra ammunition along with his explosives satchel. Fred sheathed his twirling blade, picked up his M90 Shotgun and grabbed a Battle Rifle to sling over his shoulder. “Cortana is there an armory in the building in case we need some heavy firepower?” asked John. “Yes there is an armory located on the third sublevel. To my knowledge it has not been breached.” “Let’s move out!” shouted the Sergeant. The ODST piled into a Pelican Dropship at the far end of the bay followed last by the Spartans in their MJOLNIR power armor. With a roar the Dropship’s engines powered up and the ship leapt off the pad into the darkened sky. As the Dropship weaved its way through the tall buildings Master Chief gazed at the sky, the new moon giving no light to the city below. Then Master Chief glanced down to find that there was light in the city. The burning cars and buildings alike threw shadows around themselves. The earth was scarred from plasma hits suffered as the Human defenders fought a ferocious ground battle for the control of the planet. Master Chief smiled in satisfaction. The Covenant would never glass Earth, which meant they would have to fight on the ground, and they could be beaten on the ground. He would make sure of that. The clack of slides snapping brought him out of his thoughts as the ODST’s around him, in their urban black armor, loaded their weapons for a hot drop. “Chief there is a battalion of Covenant on the block that the Marines are tasked to assault. You have two options, if you help the ODST your presence will be known and the mission will have to be scrubbed. If you go on there is a distinct possibility that the Marines will be overwhelmed.” After thinking for a solid minute John said, “We are going in. Tell the ODST to stick to hit and run and not get caught in close quarters.” “30 seconds to drop!” yelled the pilot. The marines rose from their seats. “Hot drop no touchdown!” shouted the pilot. The Dropship raced down from altitude and brought itself to a halt two feet above the tarmac. The ODST piled out followed by Sarge in just his camo gear and hat. As the marines jumped out the Covenant forces in the area engaged them on the right flank. Several plasma grenades flew from behind the Covenant barricades, and the ODST scattered. One flew straight and true attaching comically atop the Sergeant’s hat for a moment before he calmly threw the hat away, seconds before the grenade detonated. Master Chief watched the Sarge wave the Dropship off after all the Marines had disappeared. As a parting shot the Dropship strafed the Covenant positions with its nose cannon killing three Elites, their shields flaring and disappearing as they were riddled with hundreds of 70mm rounds. The Dropship pulled away, heading for a second drop zone some two miles from there. “Chief I am getting reports on the Covenant battle net asking for reinforcements to deal with the ODST. Our play has worked for now.” The Dropship landed in the bowels of a hollowed out parking garage and the four Spartans disembarked. The Dropship moved off back toward the base. The Spartans moved off into the city, skirting from shadow to shadow, moving like ghosts, untraceable. After an hour of covert movement they came to a checkpoint in one of the city’s main intersections. Master Chief surveyed the opposition. Most of the guards had moved off to deal with the Marines. All that were left were a dozen Grunts and two Jackals. A movement in one of the windows caught John’s eye. The shadow of a Hunter worked its way from window to window. Master Chief motioned to Will and Fred with two fingers toward the building. They nodded and as one the three Spartans moved out. John, Fred, and Will worked their way to the left flank of the checkpoint. After they were in position John lobbed a grenade toward the entrance of the building. The Grunts whirled to face the building and half their number were cut down with single bullets to the back of the head from the Spartan battle rifles. Another grenade took care of the Jackals. Chief jumped into the midst of the remaining Grunts wielding his dual SMG’s with deadly efficiency cutting down the remaining combatants within seconds. Then the Hunters burst out of the office building, fuel rod guns searching for a target. They moved slowly out of the doorway, and failing to see Fred pressed against the wall, continued to advance. A knife flew out of the dark killing the Hunter farthest from the building. The other Hunter turned to its dead blood brother in shock and didn’t feel the cold steel barrel of Fred’s shotgun pressed against its spine until it was too late. Fred fired, splattering orange blood over the sidewalk. The sudden fighting stopped and the world was quiet once again. Will salvaged a few plasma grenades and Fred and John policed the bodies into a nearby subway station. The Spartans returned to heading toward the building they sought. They met only scattered resistance and made their way quickly to the base of the building across the way from the HQ. “I have three options for entry Chief. Wait...only one, the covenant blocked up the sewers and have posted guards on the roof. The only way in is the front door,” said Cortana bleakly. John motioned to Will, who nodded. The three made their way across the street. John stole a look inside the entry hall with a fiber optic cable and didn’t like what he saw. There were ten elites in the room wearing various colors of armor and other assortments of covenant. They needed a way to even the odds in tight quarters. Will rigged the door with some plastic explosives and waited for the signal from Fred. There were two clicks and exactly two seconds later all hell broke loose. Fred fired a shotgun blast, which shattered the glass on both doors. Before the glass had even hit the ground the plastic explosives turned the falling shards into a hail of deadly spikes cutting down four elites where they stood, their shields not able to withstand the rain of supersonic glass projectiles. Immediately following the glass four plasma grenades and two fragmentation grenades rolled into the room, filling three Jackals and a squad of grunts with shrapnel while incinerating another two Elites. Karyap was a guard in the main building entryway. It was boring duty as no one ever attacked the doors; no one would be that stupid. He had been on break in the methane tent when the doors had shattered and the battle started. He was brave by Grunt standards, with an overloaded Plasma pistol in his hands. He saw the dust settling form the grenade attack he turned toward the door to see three tall figures in green armor run into the room. He leveled his pistol and fired. The green monster in front just flinched backward turned toward him and raising his primitive firearm, opened fire. Master Chief reprimanded himself for letting the Grunt evade his sights. He had taken cover behind a pillar after shooting the meddlesome creature to let his shields recharge. He assessed the situation. They had killed at least five of the elites with their first assault he was sure, along with a score of Grunts and a few Jackals. He heard the choking sound of well aimed bursts of fire from Will’s battle rifle, and another Elite fell, blood leaking from three well grouped head wounds. Fred was enjoying himself, amongst the Grunts with his combat knife, the trade in which he surpassed all other Spartans. He looked like he belonged in a ballet, his movements always flowing perfectly from one swift blow to another, weaving a beautiful tapestry of death around his feet. Then he was sheltered behind a pillar, unslinging his shotgun. He whirled around the pillar and shoving the barrel into the stomach of an Elite that had been trying to sneak up on him, pulled the trigger. The Elite fell over and Fred reloaded and moved back to the Battle Rifle to finish a group of Grunts. Master Chief lobbed a grenade over the wall of shields formed by a group of Jackals, sending bodies flying in every direction. Then he whirled around toward the hallway leading into the building. He saw a shimmer and a flash of light as a beam sword flashed into existence. Without hesitation he switched to his dual SMG’s and opened fire on full auto, working his way from the feet toward the head of the cloaked Elite, by the time he hit the shield generator the Elite was already dead and the body began a slow fall forward, the plasma beam extinguishing itself as the failsafe kicked in. “All Covenant in the immediate area exterminated.” reported Cortana happily. “Nice improvisation with the door. This may seem silly but the elevators are not guarded in this facility. Seems the Covenant found them not to their liking.” The Spartans separated, Fred and John heading up and Will after giving the nuclear ordinance to John headed down to the buildings main supports. “Meet you guys on top in ten.” said Will. “Roger.” Replied John. And with that the Spartans boarded the elevators and headed their separate ways. The elevator doors opened and Will scanned the hallway beyond with his battle rifle. He advanced quickly along the hallway until it took a sharp turn into an intersection. Sensing danger he grabbed a fire extinguisher off the wall and with a quick motion threw it into the intersection and shot it in the air. White foam shot in every direction, coating the shield of the Elite that had been tasked with guarding the basement. The Elite roared at the disruption, and turned, looking for his assailant. He felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around ready to strike, but fell to his knees from a vicious blow to the stomach from the butt of a rifle, which also overloaded his shields. He looked up into the face of his attacker, but only saw his own reflection mirrored in a great, golden faceplate. His attacker slowly raised his rifle, and fired. Will let off the trigger and the body of the Elite crumpled, six bleeding holes in his helmet. He continued on and found the foundation pillar. He set plastic explosives to the pillar and headed back to the elevator, his job done. He had almost reached the elevator when his comm. chirped. It was Cortana. “Will, we are encountering some heavy resistance and could use some firepower.” “Moving to armory, will rendezvous in five.” Will changed course, and headed back toward the pillar. The door opened and John swept the area in front of him for hostiles. 200 yards straight ahead was the Covenant loading platform, which was swarming with Grunts and Jackals moving supplies to where they needed to go. He and Fred moved to the left of the platform under cover of some Wraith tanks. Master Chief pointed toward the right flank and Fred moved off. John moved further around to the left. Once in position he sent two clicks to Fred and they opened up. Zuca was unloading a Shade antiaircraft gun when he heard the sound of rifle fire. He immediately ducked behind his shield and dove for cover. Squawking he turned this way and that but couldn’t find the source of fire. He grabbed his radio and requested backup from the cruiser. He felt a presence and whirled around. As the Jackal turned Fred slammed the butt of his rifle into its face, breaking its neck. He then returned his gaze to the tarmac, which was in total chaos. Jackals and Grunts ran for cover, and the Elite who was rallying his troops was cut down by a quartet of rounds from John’s general location. Fred fired the last of his battle rifle rounds and moved out into the open to utilize his shotgun. John saw Fred move and moved with him, but as he moved he saw a pair of Hunters descending from the lift. He dove back into cover as the Hunters fired. One round was intended for John, and it crashed harmlessly into a box, but one exploded near Fred lifting him off his feet and throwing him to the right. Fred quickly retreated, his shields weak but holding. John switched back to his SMGs. “Get Will up here, Cortana.” growled the Chief. “Will, we are encountering some heavy resistance and could use some firepower.” “Moving to armory will rendezvous in five.” Was the static reply. Fred appeared from behind a crate and threw a plasma grenade, which stuck to the first Hunter’s visor. It ran in a circle, then exploded and crumpled, a headless corpse. The other hunter roared and charged John, who sidestepped and put half a clip of rounds into the soft spot on the Hunter’s back on full auto. It fell with a gurgle, twitched once, and died. As John finished reloading he glanced over at the lift and to his horror saw twelve Brutes descending from the ship. He dove back behind the Wraith tanks and to his amazement was met by Fred. “Too many for us Chief.” He brought his hand across his faceplate in a smile gesture, which John returned. “Well we have to try. On three.” Three seconds later they jumped around the tank and found the lift pad wreathed in explosions. John glanced back and saw Will standing on an air-conditioning vent, a smoking M19 SSM Rocket Launcher on each shoulder. He shifted slightly and after waiting for the second shot to cycle into the chamber fired at the surviving Brutes. He then dropped the spent launchers and headed for his comrades. Another smile gesture was shared. “Interesting Will,” Said John “lets check out your handy work.” They walked toward the pad, and John brought out the nuclear warhead from the satchel. To their disbelief a Brute was struggling to its feet amongst the charred remains of its fallen comrades. It looked at them, a fire in its eyes so intense that John stopped. He then calmly tossed the nuclear warhead to the startled Brute. It looked down at the device and before it could react Fred was in front of him, the shotgun pressed against its chin. Fred fired. The Brute was lifted off its feet, flying into the grav lift beam from the force of the blast, carrying the bomb with him in a death grip. The corpse began a slow steady ascension into the belly of the ship 400 yards above. The three Spartans whirled and headed back toward the elevator. They reached the ground floor without incident and worked their way toward the rendezvous point. With a loud noise like the earth cracking the nuclear bomb exploded. The explosion contained within the shields of the cruiser for a moment, then the shields failed and chunks of shrapnel the size cars rained down on the city. Then moments later the shaped charges set by Will went off and the building slowly imploded, sending out a dust cloud, filling the air with the smell of explosives. Master Chief looked back, the hail of shrapnel mirrored in his visor. He turned and with Will and Fred in tow and stole away into the coming dawn. |
