User:Ahalosniper/A Simple Objective

1: Scouts

 * Sand blew up into the face of the crab as it skittered up onto the land. It’s red shell kept it perfectly camouflaged underwater, half buried beneath the silt at the bottom of the ocean. But here, it was a calling card for the gulls. It was in a race for it’s life to get to the rocky tide pools, where it was first born. As fast as it was, the brilliant crimson of it’s back caught the attention of a gull flying overhead.
 * It swooped down, and the crab began to feel a humming noise through the ground. The gull landed in front of it, blotting out his vision with white feathers. The crab raised it’s pincers and snapped. The humming grew louder. The gull’s beak came down, once, twice, and it had one of the crab’s legs in it’s grasp. The humming turned deafening, the gull cried out in pain and surprise, and the crab dropped into the sand.
 * The armored figure kicked out at the gull from atop his four-wheeled cycle, and the bird flew off.
 * “I knew I’d hit ‘im, he wasn’t paying attention!” the man said into his helmet speaker, looking at the other quad rider.
 * “Well why didn’t you swerve? With all this beach, you could’ve missed him by a mile!” replied the sand-colored form, stopping his own vehicle.
 * “Because then I would’ve hit you or the rocks.” he groaned. He dismounted the small vehicle and examined the underbelly of the vehicle. “At least the mongoose looks okay,” he murmured, plucking feathers from the engine.
 * “Hey, Kodiak, looks like someone owes you a debt.” The other man pointed at the crab, which scuttled away and into the tide pool, hiding under a rock.
 * “Funny, Dyne. Well, that’s why the gull didn’t move, I guess.” Dyne’s Mark VI/S bodyplate was a beaten sand color, with flat, red pauldrons. Kodiak’s own armor was built the same, with a two-tone gray coloration and different body and helmet. While different colors, their helmets were otherwise identical, mostly rounded, with a golden faceplate in the front and a small visor over it. Kodiak got back on his ATV when a burst of static and a woman’s voice came in on the radio in his helmet.
 * “Calling all scouting teams in the vicinity of Solace Mountain, northern slope, we have a non-responsive exploration team at Grid 40-by-Six-Eight. Faulty com line suspected. Need someone for tech support, over.”
 * Kodiak reached up to his helmet and switched to long-range frequency. “Erin, this is Spartan Commander Kodiak, Beta Spartan Team Ion. We’ll check it out, over.”
 * “Confirmed Ion. Checkpoint out.”
 * Kodiak switched back to his team frequency. Dyne groaned. “Come on, I was looking forward to getting back to the barracks. Yeah, it’s just a cot, but I can still sleep on it.”
 * “You can sleep later, besides, in my book, a bit more on the paycheck is worth fixin’ a bad radio any day.”
 * "We don't even get paid . . ." Dyne muttered.
 * The pair wheeled the mongooses around, leaving the crab to sulk under a rock.


 * The two vehicles made short work of the miles between them and their goal. After cutting off the beach, they entered a rough trail that had been cut only the day before. This wasn’t Earth. Nearly twenty years after the Human-Covenant War, exploration had begun again. There were still parts of the galaxy yet unexplored. TGL-49 was very Earth-like. In this new age, new Spartans sought to keep this peace, a far cry from their program’s original purpose of subjugation and war.
 * Kodiak’s mongoose ATV bumped along the broken vegetation and rough ground of the trail. It had been carved by a giant forest-eating machine called a Golem crawler. It left behind a path that even an Elephant Troop Transport could use. Kodiak wished he had a Warthog jeep, or something that rode smoother over the debris it left behind.
 * The Spartans ran into a steep uphill climb, and though the vehicles slipped and fell back in the mud, they stayed on the fallen branches and managed to pull themselves to the crest of the ridge. They could see for miles over the jungle landscape, down into the forested mountain valleys and to the nearby coastline. Down the slope in front of them, the cut area snaked into one of the valleys and out of sight.
 * Dyne turned, “The team wasn’t supposed to go down that valley.”
 * “You know marines. They probably saw a funny looking rock and went to get a picture. They always try to get into the first colonization brochures.”
 * Dyne held down a button on the side of his helmet to employ his binoculars. “I see the crawler. It’s half a kilo down the stone valley, in the middle of a clearing. There’s a cave there, too.”
 * “That could explain the com trouble. See anyone with the Golem?”
 * “No. Must all be in the cave.”
 * Kodiak sighed. “Genius. Come on, let’s go get ‘em.”


 * Shortly, the two armored figures emerged from the cut path and into the clearing. The black-and-yellow crawler sat silently, each of the units of the snake-like thing riding on two thick rubber tires. Dyne dismounted and looked around.
 * “Hello?” he shouted. No answer was given to his call.
 * Kodiak came up beside him. “Odd they didn’t leave someone with the rig. You search around, I’ll take a look at this thing.”
 * Dyne moved towards the cave mouth, which was covered by moss and vines. Kodiak clambered up and into the Golem’s cab. It looked like any old truck cabin, a layer of dust coating the dashboard. He could see out in front to the crawler’s giant mandibles, which ripped apart trees and moved boulders with ease. A couple pictures were stuck to the flip-down sun visor. He took them down and saw one of a man and woman kissing; the second was the same man in standard marine outfitting. He replaced the pictures and pulled the short-range radio off it’s holder.
 * “Checkpoint, this is Team Ion. Found the rig, but no servicemen, over.”
 * There was nothing but static that came through the receiver. Kodiak guessed the rock valley walls were interfering with the connection. He fumbled with his helmet and switched to the satellite link, and repeated his message. Still nothing. He climbed out of the cab as Dyne walked up with an object.
 * “Something’s wrong,” Dyne said simply. “A marine team might miss a check-in.” He raised the blood smeared item. Though it was different colors, the helm was identical to their own. “A Spartan team wouldn’t.”

2: 2574
Twenty years. Twenty years since humanity had nearly been destroyed by the Covenant. Now humans thrived again and searched for new worlds, with the help of their new allies. These were the thoughts of Lieutenant Erin Coney, sitting in the control tower of Checkpoint One. It was a square room, a story and a half up, with blinking control panels all around the walls, which were only glass panels, much like an air traffic control tower, which it basically was. The only light came from outside, but there was plenty of it. Erin was the only one in the entire base at the moment. Checkpoint One housed three two-man teams of Spartan II Betas, two marine Golem teams, and a Spartan Golem team. These Spartans weren’t the legendary supersoldiers that had fought in the Covie war; they were less powerful and were made in greater numbers. They were like advanced Helljumpers, and most added customizations to their armor, making no two alike, and none like their legendary predecessors. Still, Beta Spartans were the finest people she could ask to serve with. She blew a bit of her black hair out of her face, annoyed that Ion Team was still calling her by her first name. Kodiak and Dyne had worked with her before, and they had the infuriating ability to irritate people in hundreds of tiny ways. “Oh, well. . .” Erin muttered, getting up and walking to one of the windows. Though she no longer went out on active patrols, she wore a marine’s olive drab fatigues, and her helmet was lying on one of the panels. Outside the windows were the Golem crawler garages, and an empty landing platform large enough to service an Albatross heavy dropship. She had joined up with the expedition onboard the UNSC Themistocles, named after the ancient Greek admiral. A fitting ship to deploy Spartans. Just after joining them, she was promoted to Lieutenant, and assigned as the Spartans’ supervising officer. Kodiak was a Spartan Commander, but in terms of enlisted to non-enlisted ranks, it made him only about a Gunnery Sergeant. Now she had to sit in the tower all day and answer radio calls. Still better than being shot at by the Covenant Remnant, but it was boring. Resigned to her work, she went down to the staff lounge in search of some coffee.

Dyne dropped the helmet and unslung the BR55-HB marksman’s rifle from it’s place strapped over his khaki backpack, and checked the safeties off the M7 SMGs on his thigh plates. Kodiak jumped off the crawler and pulled his MA5C assault rifle from the magnetic plate over his spine. Then he pulled the six-inch knife from it’s sheath on his chestplate and fixed it as a bayonet to his weapon. Rifles up, they moved cautiously towards the cave entrance. “Think it could be Covenant?” Kodiak asked coolly. “Covies, no. Brutes, maybe.” Dyne replied. “We search for survivors, then radio Checkpoint.” “Radios are out, even the SAT-COMs are down.” “That’s not good.” The pair snapped on lights, both in their helmets and flashlights on the rifles. The cave had a level grade, but the floor itself was rough and jagged. It would have cut through anything but a marine’s fatigues or Mjolnir boots. “Old lava tube. Probably why the jungle out there is so healthy.” Kodiak guessed. Dyne pointed his flashlight far ahead, and could see that a heavy mist had begun to cover the tunnel floor as they got farther in. Then a flash of red caught his eye. He moved forward quickly, and Kodiak followed. Dyne climbed over a rock and found a Spartan lying on the cave floor. “Survivor!” he called, but just as he shouted he could see the soldier wasn’t going anywhere. “Never. . . never mind.” Kodiak looked around, and his helmet lights illuminated the armor of another prone Spartan. And another. All told, there were six of their brothers and sisters down. Kodiak recognized one by his armor color and emblem, a brute head in cross-hairs. “Jeremy.” Kodiak knelt and touched his helmet to that of his fallen companion. A groan came out of one of the bodies. “Survivor!” The Spartan was a battered white with red shoulders, and a red cross on his right pauldron, showing he was in the Spartan medical corps. Though he couldn’t see beyond the armor, one of the soldier’s leg joints seemed to bend at an odd angle. Dyne continued up the cave, and Kodiak propped the soldier up. “What’s your name?” “Aspen. ID Es-two bee Seven-Nine.” Kodiak moved two fingers in front of his visor in a Spartan smile. “Es-two bee One-Four. There’s another with me, One-Seven. We’re glad to see someone made it.” “Did anyone else-” Kodiak cut him off. “No. How many were you?” “Six, and the Golem operator.” Kodiak soberly pulled out an electronic datapad. “Read off the names and numbers.” The next minute and a half was spent keying in the names of five of his friends, all listed as Missing In Action, keeping with the code they must follow. He would relay it back to the Navy when they reached Checkpoint One. Dyne finally came back out of the cave, with the marine operator’s tags. “He was messed up bad. There’s something big down here.” Dyne seemed a little tense. Kodiak knew bad things happened with a nervous sniper. He bumped shoulders with him lightly. “Easy. Whatever it was didn’t eat these guys, and it’s moved on. Come on, we’re getting Seven-Nine out of here.” “Hey Aspen.” Dyne said in recognition. They each grabbed a shoulder and headed for the cave mouth.

Erin climbed the stairway with the freshly brewed coffee firmly in her grasp. As she sat down at the com station, bursts of static coughed from the speaker. “Check. . . eam si. . . rigffzzzzzz” “Ion Team, is that you? I’m getting a poor signal, check your coms.” There was another burst, then nothing. She looked to check the systems on her end when another signal came in. “Golem Team Three to Checkpoint! Under attack by native wildlife, there’s a lot of ‘em!” “Copy, Three, how many?” “Hundreds! They’re everywhere, and they’re huge!” The man cursed, and Erin heard a crash. “Send help now, and send a lot of it!” “Alright Three, pull back and stay calm, I’ll have Armored Fighting Vehicles and Spartans en rout. Checkpoint out.” She terminated the com and hailed Alpha Headquarters. “Checkpoint One to HQ, I have a Golem team in need of help, under attack by large native creatures. Recommend Cougar Armored Fighting Vehicles.” After a moment, “Roger Checkpoint, we’ve received coordinates and have Cougars moving. HQ out.” Erin rolled her chair over to another dashboard and hailed Ion. The Spartans gave no response. She gave up and hailed Mirage Team, another small group of Spartans. A woman named Branwyn answered. “We have you Checkpoint, go ahead.” “Golem Team Three is being overwhelmed. I have Cougar vehicles moving to support them, need you to go, too. Keep heavy weapons ready, they’re big.” “Receiving coordinates now, en rout. We’ll bail ‘em out.” Answered Andor, another Mirage Team member. The team had one other member, Morgan, but she didn’t talk much. “Alright, move to objective. Get ‘em back to base, and lose whatever is after them. Checkpoint out.”

The three Spartans had made it to the end of the cave. Emerging back into the sunlight, they set Aspen down and sat beside him. “You know, I think I just realized the last thing I had to eat was that extra ration bar yesterday.” Kodiak said. “You ate the last bar?” Dyne mumbled back. “I was saving that.” “Can’t help it, got hungry.” Dyne got up momentarily, and went to the far side of the Golem, where the mongooses were stashed. He was taken aback upon sighting the vehicles, which had been mercilessly crushed, and the side of the Golem had a sizable dent into its yellow outer plating. With a curse, he rechecked the safeties on his SMGs. “Kodiak. . . we’re not riding out of here.” He rounded the corner a moment later, and caught himself just before an expletive. One of the mongooses looked as if it had been hit dead center by a falling tree, and the other was ripped in half, leaving shreds of metal scattered in the grass. “No Brute could do that.” Kodiak said quietly, readying his rifle. Both Spartans were on high alert, adrenaline pumping through them. “Do you think you can drive the Golem?” “I can try.” Within a minute, Kodiak and Aspen were on the roof of the crawler, and Dyne had climbed into the rear cab to start it up. Kodiak tensed at every small movement of the forest, fearing what giant savage could have ripped the ATVs apart with such force. He relaxed slightly as the Golem moved forward, which was a mistake. A fraction of a second later, it lurched to a stop. Kodiak was sent sliding forward on the smooth roof over the cab. The crawler jerked again twice, and Kodiak had his head inside the cab. “I thought you could drive this thing.” “Not my fault, I can’t drive a stick.” “This is gonna be one long ride.”

==3: The Natives Just as Kodiak and Dyne had done before, the three Spartans of Mirage Team jostled along the path left by one of the Golems. The commotion of combat was heard before it was in sight, marines firing MA5Cs and BR55s. Morgan and Andor rode on one of the ATVs, Branwyn on the other. As they approached the battle, Morgan’s light blue form jumped off of Andor’s quad and she clutched the sniper rifle in both hands. Sighting down the Oracle scope, she could see the industrial bumblebee colors of the Golem crawler. Marines with rifles and a rocket launcher stood on top of it, firing at absolute hordes of strange, almost spider-like creatures. Though neither she nor any of the other Spartans of Beta Company had seen them before in person, she knew instantly what they were. Flood. Pure Forms. The entire expedition to the planet was in danger from the most serious threat the galaxy had ever faced. Morgan was gripped by a moment of terror, but no more than that moment. She fired off a full clip in the blink of an eye, and reloaded. Branwyn on the vehicle was a blur of white and blue armor. Hitting a ridge, she jumped off the mongoose and her shotgun materialized in her hands in the same motion. The mongoose collided with and crushed one of the pure forms. She landed nimbly on her toes and unloaded a round of buckshot into what qualified for a head on the nearest Stalker form. To the marines, she was a glorious sight. Seven feet of bright armor, shotgun flying around her body, killing to the side, behind her. Around her waist was a gray combat skirt, open in front, protecting her from shrapnel of stray grenades. “Bryn!” She heard her nickname as Andor tackled another Stalker that had attempted to jump her. He punched the thing with jagged hand-to-hand gauntlets, his armor customization. She unloaded another round and yelled, “Andor, set a charge on the Golem’s reactor core, we’ll evac when the Cougars arrive!” “Roger!”

Kodiak checked to see if the radio was working once they reached the top of the hill. “Spartan Commander Kodiak to Checkpoint One, come in.” Static sprayed from the Golem’s tethered receiver, and he was about to give up on it when Lt. Coney’s voice came through. “Checkpoint to Team Ion, what is your status?” “We’re good here, but Golem Team One is KIA except for Spartan II b79. We retrieved the Golem and are en rout to you now. Something heavy took out these guys, can you call in for some extra guns, Erin?” On the other end, Erin sighed. Kodiak grinned, knowing it annoyed her to be called by her first name on the radio. “Negative, Mirage Team just confirmed we have Flood presence on the surface, pure form stage. We’re sending a message to Themistocles for evac. Get back to Checkpoint, we have an Albatross dropship ready to receive you, Mirage, and the other Golem teams.” A chill shot down Kodiak’s spine. Dyne was turned to him from in the cab below, suddenly listening intently. “We’ll get back as fast as we can. When can we expect Themistocles?” “Within the hour. Just get back now! There’s Flood outside the perimeter, hurry!” The com line terminated, and Kodiak dropped the radio back to Dyne. Energy suddenly deserting him, he fell back onto the crawler’s roof. ‘Flood,’ he thought. ‘How the hell did this happen?’ So far, the only Flood encountered by UNSC or Covenant had only survived the Halo Event because of Forerunner stasis, and none had been found after the final mop-up of those that had overrun New Mombasa. Humans had studied Forerunner logs and developed anti-Flood measures, but would it be enough? If they got control of enough hosts here, and took the Themistocles, there might be no stopping them a second time. “I say we listen to the El-Tee and get the frag outta’ here.” Dyne said, and Kodiak realized he had frozen up for a moment. “Yeah. Let’s move.”

Andor, Mirage Team’s demolitions spec, could feel his teeth rattle beneath his red helmet as the 50-mm chaingun fixed to the Cougar’s roof pounded out severe punishment to the Flood Stalkers that pursued them. While advanced plasma and laser weapons like the M6 G/GR Laser had been put out for mass use, he preferred the solid damage dealt by projectile firearms. They were accurate, versatile, and best of all, made a fiendish amount of noise. Night had fallen, and rain came soon after. It came down mercilessly on the fleeing humans and froze on the ground, but the icy mud had no effect on the speed of the Flood forms’ legs. Opening up with his machine gun, he convinced a group of them that chasing that particular vehicle wasn’t worth it. A voice crackled through his radio, “Andor, take a look in front of us, we reached the Checkpoint.” He turned and climbed from the truck-bed back and over the Cougar’s pair of autocannons, hoping to see the landing platform filled by an Albatross Troop Ship ready to lift them to safety. The reality was much different. In the dark, the fires that were engulfing portions of the base raged brightly. On the reactor complex, Flood beat at the carbon-steel structures that housed the base’s reactor. Out of instinct or desperation, he raised the 50-cal to lay down fire, when a sonic boom shot overhead. Lights and the sound of engines shattered the night as a massive Albatross flew overhead, spewing lead down on the monsters assaulting the base. A strong signal came over his radio and that of the Cougar’s cab. “Albatross Kilo Twelve-Eight, dispatched from Themistocles. All units are to load up in ten minutes or get left behind.” Branwyn answered from one of the other Cougars. “Roger that, lead Cougs head straight up the ramp, everyone else’ll have to dismount.”

3.1: A Little Glimpse for the Sequel
Failed. He had failed everyone, the armorless elite thought as he dragged the Covenant purple case behind him. But no more. Scars covered his body, now hidden by the dark of the night around him, miles from where the demons and other humans were hurrying to flee what he had set loose. At a sound behind him, he unfastened the blue rifle from his side and burned into the undergrowth with its holy power. The noise ceased, and the Parasite scrambled back a few paces. He realized that in his mad quest to redeem himself, he had possibly doomed the universe to its consumption by the most unspeakable evil. He looked up, seeing his Spirit dropship fly low overhead. He would make it back to his meager vessel. With this final escape ensured, he would stop the Flood. The armor he now possessed would make him a hero, regardless if his Covenant masters thought him so. The lavender light of the Spirit’s lift beam overcame the elite. Floating up, his friend helped him aboard, but he shook her off. Nothing mattered now, for he had the armor. Everything else was assured. “Take us out, pilot.” Said Vract Aeramee.