User:CarpeJugulum/Gray Team Chronicles

This was the first fanfic for Halo I ever wrote. The site it's based on might be deleted in the near future, however, so I decided to back it up here for sentimental reasons.

'''NOTE: This story is an alternative storyline, and was written before Cole Protocol. So while it might seem I am simply ignoring canon, at the time I was simply ignorant.'''

January 17, 2553(Earth Calendar), UNSC communications/monitoring station Ranger
This has got to be the most boring post in the whole UNSC, thought Ensign Robert Knight as he sat at his computer console. Far past most of the remaining UNSC colonies, the Ranger was outdated and obsolete. Knight’s theory was that there was some guy back on Earth who was supposed to keep track of all the stations and had forgot completely about them. With any luck, they would still be sitting here after the Covies had made everyone else into mindless slaves.

His console suddenly beeped. Knight guessed it would be a report on some random meteor that had wandered into their scanner’s range. With a yawn, he opened the file.

It wasn’t a meteor. It turned out to be a COM signal. Intrigued, Knight put on his headset and activated the audio.

About a minute passed. Then Knight removed his headset and said, in a far-too-calm voice, “Lieutenant?”

The Ranger’s commanding officer, Lieutenant Jackson, walked over. “What is it, Ensign?” he growled, in a way that said very clearly, “I don’t care.” The officer had just woken up and was always testy before his coffee.

However, crabby lieutenants were the last thing on Knight’s mind as he said, “I think you should hear this, sir.” He flipped on the speakers and started the file.

“Hello? Does anyone copy? This is Spartan Logan-81, of Gray Te-’’ the transmission cut out and came back in: “-currently under attack by hos-’’, more static, then: “-Request assistance. Authorization code Gamma-Theta-781.” The transmission ended.

The lieutenant stood there, dumbstruck. “Sir?” asked Knight.

Jackson snapped out of it. “Get a priority COM signal to ONI. Do it now!”

October 30, 2552(Earth Calendar), unknown planet, unknown coordinates: Three months ago
Despite the freezing temperatures on the small planet, a wide variety of plant life had evolved. The snow was not quite the white, fluffy stuff from Earth, but a gray, soggy mess. Apart from the small animals living on the frozen tundra, it seemed unlikely that anything lived here.

A low rumble was suddenly heard, disturbing the little mammals nibbling at the flowers of a large plant. They scurried into their burrows, watching with bright green eyes.

A large vehicle rumbled into the clearing. It looked somewhat like a UNSC Troop Transport Warthog, but completely sealed against the cold. A strange-looking gun protruded from a dome on the roof.

The side door hissed open and a SPARTAN-II soldier leaned out, holding a battle rifle in his hand. The shields in his armor flickered as the falling snow made contact. He surveyed the clearing, and then said into his COM set, “Two-four, this eight-one. I think you can land here. Repeat, landing zone secure. Over.”

“Roger, eight-one. Looks good, Logan. We’re coming down. Over and out.”

Eight-one stepped back inside the ‘Hog and took off his helmet. He breathed in deeply. The air inside wasn’t extremely warm, but compared with the temperatures outside, it felt like summer in Florida. He remembered Florida dimly. It was where he had been born, and where his old life had died. Now he was a Spartan.

Shaking himself out of the dim memories, Logan looked toward the front of the Warthog. Four-seven, Sarah, sat in the driver’s seat. Next to her was Tom-36. Manning the gun was Helen-102.

“Back it up, Sarah. Art’s landing the Titan,” said Logan.

“Roger, Lo,” replied Sarah. She backed the vehicle into the frozen vegetation.

A dull thunder came from above them as a medium-size sloop came into the atmosphere. The ship landed in the clearing and the COM set crackled. “Ready to receive passengers. Art out.”

The cargo bay doors opened wide and a ramp extended. Sarah drove the ‘Hog up the ramp and into the cargo bay. The doors closed behind them.

The cargo bay was about ten meters long and fifteen wide. Against one wall were crates of weapons and equipment. Logan opened the door and the four Spartans stepped out. Another Spartan walked in. “Nice spot, Lo,” said Arthur-24.

“Thanks, Art,” said Logan. Arthur was the official team leader, being a Senior Chief Petty Officer. Logan was next, a Petty Officer Third Class. However, Gray Team didn’t set much store by rank out past UNSC space, and so ideas and strategies were discussed by the whole team, which was seven Spartans in all. “How’s Jack?” Jack-69 had contracted a strange fever on the last planet they had been on. While Logan and the others had been scouting, Art and Sean-70 had been treating him.

“He’s up and around again,” replied Art. “Still weak, but better.”

“Good,” said Sarah. She and Jack had been best friends during training.

Art rubbed his hands together. “So, find anything down there?”

“There was a bunch of ruins about twenty klicks north of here,” Helen answered.

Art nodded. “Okay, we move out in six. Take a break.”

Logan yawned. Right now, he wanted something to eat. Then he would sleep.

October 30, 2552(Earth Calendar), on board UNSC Titan, unnamed planet, unknown coordinates: Five and a half hours later.
Logan lay on his bunk, trying to sleep. He tossed fitfully, caught in the throes of a strange dream.

Run run run hide nowhere to go

He turned over in the narrow berth, moaning slightly.

You can’t escape can’t run hide can’t run weak human we’re watching run

In his dream he was standing on the standing on the frozen ground of the planet below. A low, hissing whisper pierced the cold. He craned his neck, listening.

We’re watching you

A chill ran down his spine. He reached for his rifle, but it wasn’t there. His sidearm had disappeared as well.

Run weak one run and hide

He started to slowly jog away, but quickly leapt into a full-fledged sprint, just trying to escape the voice.

That’s it run yes

He panted heavily. His MJOLNIR armor seemed to weigh tons. The voice was still there, inside his head. But if he ran far enough-

Hello human

A huge, shadowy figure sprang out of the trees. It reached for him-

Logan snapped upright, panting. He was covered in sweat. Standing, he walked over to the head and stepped into the shower. As the hot water pelted him, he tired to recall his nightmare. However, try as he might, he couldn’t remember a thing.

Turning off the water, he stepped out and toweled off. Tossing the towel into a hamper, he walked over to his closet and opened it up. It hissed open, revealing his MJOLNIR armor. Gray Team’s armor had been modified so that it could be taken on and off easily by one person. Logan put on the suit and, helmet tucked under his arm, walked out the door.

His wanderings took him to the bridge of the sloop. Art and Jack-69 sat at a table. Jack was still a bit pale after his fever. “How are you, Jack?” asked Logan.

Jack looked up and smiled. “Hey, Logan. I’m good, thanks.” He turned back to the game of holographic chess he and Art were playing and moved a rook down the spaces. “Check.”

Art growled and moved his queen to block. Jack’s bishop swooped in and picked her off. Art quickly moved his king away, but Jack sent his knight in. “Checkmate.”

Art looked the whole board over, but Jack was right. He reached over and shook Jack’s hand. “All right, that’s two-one, your favor. Another game?” The he checked the chronometer set in the board and said, “Oh, no time. We have to move.” Deactivating the board, he shouted, “Brave One! Get out here!”

A holographic Native American appeared. He was seated on a mustang and carried a long, thin spear. He dismounted and bowed to Art, then sat, cross-legged. “And how are you today, Arthur-24?” the AI asked in a cultured voice that didn’t fit with his avatar.

“Good, but I didn’t want you for a social call,” said Art. “There’s a bunch of ruins about twenty klicks north. Land us nearby.”

The AI stood, bowed again, and vanished. A klaxon sounded over the intercom, followed by a rumble as the Titan lifted off. The AI’s voice came over the intercom: “All personnel, report to the cargo bay. Repeat, proceed to the cargo bay.”

The three Spartans stood and filed out of the door. A few minutes later they arrived in the cargo bay. The other four Spartans were waiting for them already. “Okay, here’s the plan. Logan, Helen, Tom, Sean and I will be heading into the city. Jack and Sarah, you stay and guard the ship. Get Brave One to set up a perimeter alert. Any comments?”

No one had anything to add. “Okay, lock and load. Grab a gun,” said Art.

The seven soldiers walked over to the crates of equipment stacked against the wall and began selecting weapons. Logan grabbed a battle rifle and an silenced M6D pistol. He screwed a silencer onto the rifle and grabbed three extra clips for each weapon. Then he turned to Art. “Good to go, Art.”

Art nodded. He was carrying a Hard Sound Rifle and a pair of M6Ds. The Hard Sound Rifle had been developed for ONI black-ops. It fired an invisible sonic blast at the target, leaving almost no easily visible wounds. The turret on their ‘Hog used sonic-weapons technology as well, but was powerful enough to blow a person’s stomach out through their back. “Okay, looks like we’re all ready. Brave One? How long ‘til we land?”

“Eight minutes, Arthur,” replied the AI.

Logan quickly checked and cleaned his weapons, stripping and reassembling them in four minutes. He then ran a systems check on his armor. Once that was done, he checked his mission clock. Still a minute left. He thought for a moment, and then traded the M6B in for an SMG.

“Landing in thirty seconds,” said Brave One over the team’s COM channel. Logan began counting down in his head. Just as he hit zero, the Titan thudded to the ground. The bay doors hissed open. “Go!” shouted Art. The scout team ran out into the snow. Logan quickly upped the temperature in his suit: It was bitterly freezing even inside the MJOLNIR.

“Where’s the city?’ asked Art.

“It’s in a valley over this way,” said Helen. She headed off through a grove of trees. The other Spartans followed, with Sean covering their six. Behind them, the Titan’s bay doors hissed shut.

Helen was waiting for the others as they came out of the trees. She stood on the edge of a cliff overlooking a large valley. Logan walked up and stood next to her. Now that they could observe the ruins up close, it was clear that time was not what had destroyed the city. A few of the buildings were blackened and broken, indicating that heavy weapons had pounded them. A few mounds of snow that Logan guessed covered destroyed vehicles lay scattered outside the city wall.

Art activated his helmet binocs and gave the city a quick scan. “I don’t see any movement,” he said. “Let’s go.” The Spartans walked over to what had clearly been a path and began their descent.

Brave One had finished setting up the alarms while Art was still speaking. As he relaxed, rereading Sun Tzu’s The Art of War, the sensor beeped. In less than a second it was gone.

The AI would have written it off as a ground-rat wandering nearby had the same thing not happened again- three more times! Either a bunch of rats were being curious, or there was something going on. Suddenly uneasy, he checked the live feed from the cameras mounted on the hull. Cameras A, B, and D were working fine, but C was off-line. Brave One had just checked all four cameras yesterday and knew they were in perfect shape. “Jack? Sarah?” he called. There was no response.

Now he was sure something was wrong. Accessing his combat subroutines, he “jumped” into his personal MJOLNIR armor. The suit had a robot inside that he could control, effectively allowing him to become a Spartan. Stepping out of the storage closet he was in, the AI grabbed an assault rifle clipped to the wall. Just as he slapped a magazine into the gun, he heard something behind him say, in a voice that seemed to go directly to his “brain” without stopping in his audioreceptors, Hello Brave One.

Then everything went black.

The scout team, unaware of what was happening back at the ship, stood at the city’s wall. Tom had brushed the snow off of one of the vehicles, revealing a wrecked Covenant Specter. However, whether the Covenant had been attacking or defending was still a question on everyone’s mind as they entered the city.

Logan’s boot knocked against something in the snow. He knelt and picked it up, holding it up for everyone to see. “Plasma pistol,” he said

Sean peeked in one of the buildings. “Looks like the Covie were defending. This place has one of their shrines.”

The others gathered close. Sure enough, a Covenant shrine with its distinctive seven rings could be seen. “Okay, new question,” said Helen. “Who was attacking?”

Suddenly a contact appeared on Logan’s radar. He spun around, shouldering his battle rifle. The other soldiers acted instinctively, making a defensive ring. “What is it, Lo?” asked Art.

“I don’t know. Something made contact on my radar. It didn’t have an IFF tag,” explained Logan. He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eyes and spun around again, but it was gone once more. “What is this?”

Art switched on his COM. “Brave One, this is two-four. Do you copy?” There was no answer. “Sarah? Jack? Do you hear me?” Still nothing came back.

“Art?” said Tom nervously. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Ditto that,” agreed Art. “Let’s go!” But before they had taken a step, four dark figures detached themselves from the shadows and leapt.

Tom was thrown to the ground as one of the attackers jumped on him. It carried a blue-green blade that it tried to slice Tom with. Logan flipped his rifle to full automatic and fired a sustained burst. It growled and threw a long, cylindrical something at him. Logan had been around too long not to know what it was. “Grenade!” he shouted, but it was too late. The explosive went off in a green-tinged burst of energy. Art was thrown to the ground, likely dead. Tom was also dead, the knife-wielding assailant having cut his throat. That left Helen, Logan and Sean. Sean had managed to bring down one with repeated blasts of his shotgun. The aliens were reptilian, and about five foot seven on average. Not very big when compared to the nearly seven-foot tall Spartans, but vicious.

Helen and Logan managed to bring another down with bursts from their rifles, but more were coming. The Spartans broke and ran.

Logan puffed inside his armor as he sprinted toward the cliff. Activating his COM, he set the frequency to the UNSC emergency channel. “Hello? Does anyone copy? This is Spartan Logan-81 of Gray Team. We are currently under attack by hostile forces! Request assistance! Authorization code Gamma-Theta-781.” He knew there was almost no chance that anyone would receive the message, but he wanted to at least try and warn the UNSC.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sean being struck by a bolt of energy. The other soldier crumpled, motionless. Priming a grenade, Logan counted to four and tossed it over his shoulder. Alien screams told him he had guessed right.

The path was just a few meters ahead. Logan leapt eight feet straight into the air and landed on the incline. Recovering instantly, he dashed up the rocky path. He heard Helen behind him. They ran up the cliff and smashed through the trees at the top, emerging a few meters away from the Titan. Logan thought that he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. The door opened automatically as it recognized his armor signature. Helen came in right behind him.

“Brave One! Take off now!” he shouted. There was no response. An awful thought formed in his mind. Behind the, the door closed. “Helen,” he whispered, “check and see if the door will open.”

She nodded and walked over to the door. It was sealed shut. “Oh, no,” she said. Then another voice spoke.

Hello humans