Thursday, June 29, 2006

Look, I never post and I never will.

Go away.

m_ho returning to base at 7:43 pm

***

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Chapter 2

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The Marines were fighting it out back on Earth. Sergeant Kern Choong, survivor of the atrocities of Halo, Delta Halo and even the scouring of Earth, was a revered man, and was the only normal Marine to have ever used an Energy Sword to great success. He had fought on the frontlines with the Master Chief Spartan 117, had faced the parasitic Flood with Captain Jacob Keyes, fought Tartarus with Captain Miranda Keyes and even fought alongside the Arbiter to take on the Forerunner ship with John 117. This was probably the first ever alliance between the Covenant and the Humans. Thus, the Sergeant was the most revered Marine to have ever fought on the frontlines, and had earned the unofficial status of "Supreme Survivor". His almost magical regenerative capabilities had rendered him virtually invincible, and was the only Marine to have ever chewed on the same cigar for 20 years. Now, he was back on the frontlines, facing the Brutes in hand-to-hand combat and actually managing melee kills. He was the only one to have ever surpassed John's record of 10, 000 kills with 10, 879.

The Marines were fighting a losing battle. Retreating to the wall of tanks that surrounded the capital, New Manhattan, only the Sergeant stayed on to defend the bunker, and he did it very well with the large collection of weapons that surrounded it. After three hours of gruelling firefights, the Sergeant was forced to retreat back into the bunker, ammo supply exhausted, and the numerous wounds on his body already healing rapidly. But this was no Alamo; the human race was destined to be victorious over the Covenant. Just then, the Sergeant looked up, and through the large skylight embedded in the ceiling, he saw a human drop pod fall from the sky, and landing in the battlefield, it instantly decreased the ranks by 10, and with a crash, the door burst open. The Master Chief, Spartan 377, jumped out, and started spraying fire. The saviour had returned; the Marines now had a better chance of driving back the Covenant. But what the Marines enjoyed the most was the impact of several more ODST drop pods; the doors all burst open to reveal 45 Spartan IIIs, and out of the last pod, a dark figure stepped out into the light. As the light burst forth and reflected off the Spartan's green armor and his opaque visor with a dazzling shine, Marines were overcome with wonder. John 117 was back; and he looked better than ever.

m_ho returning to base at 8:44 pm

***

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

The Prophet of Truth lay gasping on the floor. One of his lungs had imploded, and his breath came in great, short gasps. He was about to die. As his dilated pupils turned up, the Master Chief raised his Titanium A Armor plated boot, and brought it down on his face. The Prophet would never foresee the future again.

"Truth eliminated." the Master Chief radioed to the In Amber Clad. As it hovered over his position, preparing to suck him up via the grav lift, he looked around for one last time, and locating the Forerunner ship that stood in the distance, the Master Chief was grateful for the Master Chief that came before him, the legendary Spartan 117, who destroyed Halo and the Ark, and had forced the Forerunner ship back to High Charity. As the Spartan 377 was beamed back up into the ship, he thought of the Spartan 117, the legendary first Master Chief. Melvin 377 had been whisked away by the In Amber Clad while they were in New Manhattan, and the last he saw of it was a giant explosion caused by a Covenant bomb. 117 was there when it happened; the Master Chief had been fighting alongside 377. Since that fateful day, 117 was never seen again; he was rumoured to have been vaporised by the explosion. If that was not the case, the Marines said, then he was sure to have been killed in the resulting holocaust. His name was now marked as KIA.

"Spartans never die - they just go to hell to regroup." the Spartan 058 thought, but he knew that he would never see 117 again. He saluted the bravery of the Spartan, and as the ship prepared to jump to slipspace, he wept. Spartans never cry - this was one exception.

m_ho returning to base at 4:00 pm

***

Thursday, March 17, 2005

Master Chief slid cautiously into the structure, aware of the hostile red dots that flashed urgently on his motion tracker. Pulling out his preferred weapon of choice, the M6D Pistol, the Spartan was not something to be trifled with. peering around the corner with a fibre optic cable, he saw 12 Brutes loitering around the corner. Brutes; he had never seen them before. Now he knew what they looked like; gorillas armed and armored to the teeth. He would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. And then he saw his target...

The Prophet of Truth hovered among them on his anti-gravity throne, conversing in the alien tongue of Jiralhanae. They were oblivious to the fact that their impending doom was waiting just around the corner. As Master Chief continued watching, the group slowly moved off. Now was his chance. Activating a Rafflesia anti-tank grenade , he angled his arm for more leverage, and hurled it at the close-packed group of enemies. They never knew what hit them.

m_ho returning to base at 8:46 am

***

Monday, January 03, 2005

"Chief! Glad you could make it! Been holding position here all morning, waiting for someone to come get us." The Master Chief looked at a Grunt on the floor. He booted it halfway across the field, looked up, and said, "I know."

*Back on Earth, New Manhattan, American protectorate, military calendar 18 October 2552*

Master Chief, the Spartan 377, strode down the corridor, en route to the briefing room for his new mission. Heads turned as he passed them. He already knew what would be stated. It was all the same, loads of military jargon like star charts, galaxies and other stuff that played no part in helping him keep his helmet on in an actual battlefield situation. The only place he did not feel anything against was the bunk, where he could get some much-needed rest; he hadn't slept for about three weeks. However, this time he just had to listen, as he would be going on a trip to a place where the Covenant would never expect to find him. The Covenant Holy City of High Charity.

*High Charity, near Delta Halo, military calendar 02 November 2552*

A drop pod streaked in across the purple 'sky' of High Charity, having plowed through the rock cover to reach the interior of the giant satellite. A pair of Grunts sitting in a corner pointed at it, and chattered excitedly in the alien tongue of the Unggoy. As it got bigger and bigger, the two Grunts suddenly realised what it was and, yelping, ran out of the courtyard. Seconds after, the drop pod crashed down right where the two Unggoy had been, obliterating the surrounding surface. The door popped open, and a pair of green boots stepped out. The Chief was back, and with a BR99 in hand, he strode to the door in the corner, opened it, and stepped into the unknown beyond.

m_ho returning to base at 6:19 pm

***