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Revision as of 22:56, 11 October 2010
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This fanfiction article, Convergence, was written by Sgt.johnson and Dragonclaws. Please do not edit this fiction without the writers' permission. |
Notices
- No factions other than the UNSC, pl0x ;)
- Please sign posts.
- No two posts by the same author can be next to each other.
Introduction
The year is 2009, and children all across Earth have been playing and reading resources all about the Universe dubbed Halo for over seven years. It has become very, very, very popular, and a few have taken it to the next step - writing fan fictions and creating an online encyclopedia - on this very intriguing universe.
Meanwhile, in 2552, the UNSC Apocalypso, suffering from a slip space anomaly brought on by a Forerunner artifact, has created a time/space anomaly within the Nassau Station, sending fragmented portions of the Apocalypso's AI, the station, and the station's team of highly specialized operators, including a SPARTAN-II, back to the twenty first century. However, at the same time, the temporal anomaly stayed open, and in exchange for the Nassau and a SPARTAN, the UNSC received something else: the few fanatics of that universe. Not only did the temporal anomaly transport in terms of universe and location, but it transported in time as well. ("Today" is October 17th. :))
Members
- Sgt.johnson - Chief Moderator
- Dragonclaws - Chief Moderator
- ONI recon 111
- ODST Joshie
- Spartan 112
- Matt-256
- Angel54
- MasterGreen999
- 1st Lt A. Smith
- Spartan-091
- Delta Team Curt
- Just Another Grunt
- Subtank
- Delta-269
- SPARTAN-118
- Jawsredfield
- SPARTAN-501
Status
Sgt.johnson
- Name: AJ
- Location: Johnson residence, New York, United Republic of North America
1st Lieutenant Aiden Smith
- Name: Aiden Smith (Cover Name)
- Location: Motel somewhere in New Jersey, 2552
Delta Team Curt
- Name: Curtis Freeman
- Location: Somewhere in North Carolina, 2552
Spartan-091
- Name: Jared Toso
- Location: Somewhere in the Atlanta-Hartsfield Aerospace Zone, 2552
MasterGreen999
- Name: CJ (A.K.A. Trilby)
- Location: Staging an elaborate and somewhat idiotic rescue plan
Spartan 112
- Name: Joshua
- Location: Central Florida,2552
ODST Joshie
- Name: Joshua McCallan
- Location: Antrim, Ireland 2552
ONI recon 111
- Name: Ben
- Location: Radiance, 2552
Dragonclaws
- Name: Ryan
- Location: In transit, North Dakota, USA, 2552
Matt-256
- Name: Matthias "Matt" Karlsson (real name)
- Location: Washington D.C, USA 2552
Angel54
- Name: Tara "Angel" Karlsson (cover name, Angel doesn't want to have her name revealed :P)
- Location: Boden, Sweden, 2552
Just Another Grunt
- Name: Slade Wilson
- Location: In Amber Clad's Brig, New York, USA 2552
Subtank
- Name: Judith Healey
- Location: Somewhere in London, England, 2552
Delta-269
- Name: James McBriarty (replacing my firstname with my middle name)
- Location: Radiance, 2552
SPARTAN-118
- Name: Liam
- Location: In New Jersey, North America
Jawsredfield
- Name: Beth Hedges.
- Location: New Jersey, 2552. Spaceport.
SPARTAN-501
- Name: Scott Herron (Very close mimic of real name)
- Location: Kent, Washington, USA, Earth, 2552 (Trying to make lots of money)
Roleplay
001: Namesake
“BOOM, HEADSHOT”, exclaimed AJ, just gaining another kill on his opponent in Halo 3’s multiplayer, which just so happened to be the one he knew as Tony, an administrator at a site that he worked at, and a fellow JROTC cadet.
“AJ, you’re too cocky. Watch this!”
AJ moved his character on screen to face the new threat, and was about to fire when he was hit by three “bullets” from Tony’s BR55HB SR, killing him instantly. AJ chuckled, and was about to respawn when his internet began to act weird.
“Tony? Tony? You hear me, bro?”
AJ stood up, and began to touch his internet modem when, suddenly, in a flash of light, he disappeared from his room, and his house suffered a power outage.
In New York, United Republic of North America, Sergeant Major Avery Johnson, currently on leave, stepped outside of the monorail and walked towards a department store, to pick up more than a few things for his wife, Lieutenant Commander (Ret.) Jilan Johnson, who had been awaiting his arrival from the fallen Reach for more than a month. While doing so, he stopped for a second, thinking that someone was following him. After turning around and shaking his head, he continued his trip towards the store, until he had the urge to relieve himself. After barely making it to a bathroom, he relived himself until he heard the sounds of a young boy in the stall behind him. After zipping his zipper, he opened the door to find a boy, who strangely looked like he did when he was that age, hiding on top of the toilet, wearing clothing that he recognized as popular more than 500 years prior, due to his love of flip music.
“What the?”
“Hi… you wouldn’t mind telling me where the nearest Marine Corps base is, will you?”
“Are you old enough…”
“Yeah. You look like you’re too old.”
Johnson was taken back by the comment that he was too old, but laughed a bit, recalling all of the time that he had spent in cryo-sleep, extending his life by at least forty years.
“Alright, son. What’s your name?”
AJ quickly replied to the man’s question, choosing the lowest Marine rank possible:
“Private First Class AJ Lewis, 9th Marine Expeditionary Force, 21st Regiment, 1st Battalion.”
The man’s eyes changed, from one of surprise to one of doubting.
“No way in hell you’re in that unit.”
“Why not?”
“They were wiped out on Reach. My team was the last one off, so whoever was left got glassed. That unit was one of them.”
AJ snapped his fingers at the comment, when the man began to say something else.
“But… what did you say your name was?”
“Private First Class AJ Lewis”
“AJ… same initials as I do. They stand for somethin’, son?”
AJ uttered his full name, to which the man laughed.
“Well, mine’s Sergeant Major A.J. Johnson, Marine. You’re comin’ with me, but, I’m on break. You appear to have no home… when did you arrive?”
“Uh,” AJ quickly searched for an answer to how much time he had actually been in that bathroom. “Twenty minutes…”
“Twenty minutes? What the f…”
“Alright, Johnson, I’m going to come clean. I’m seventeen; I’m not in the Marine Corps, and for some odd reason, checking by the calendars, I was transported from 2009 to 2552. And… wait… what’s your name?”
“AJ Johnson…”
AJ turned to face the man, and suddenly, he passed out. -- Sgt.johnson 23:48, 6 January 2009 (UTC)
002: Overkill
Double Kill. Triple Kill. Overkill. Game Over.
Aiden, as he liked to call himself, smiled as the screen faded to black and his headset was filled with insults. He had heard it all before noob, fag and all that stuff but it didn't matter he had won they had lost. As he set himself up for another game something strange happened the game started to freeze and so did everything else, his music, his clock, everything. As he went to pick up his control he vanished in a blinding light. All that was left was his belongings and bemused German Shepard staring at where he had once been.
Aiden rubbed his head and squinted as light pierced his eyesight. He regained his balance, then finally his sight and thats when he saw it. He didn't know when but some how he was in a city surrounded by towering sky scrappers and what seemed to be millions of people packed into the streets.
"Watch where you going you idiot!" a man shouted as he bumped into Aiden
Then it clicked he looked around for some clue of where he was and thats when he saw it. Nelson's Column. My God! I'm in London!
"Excuse me what date is it?" he asked but no one seemed to answer or even care
As he took shelter in a nearby alley his mind raced, was it a trick or some kind of crazy dream. He looked at his digital watch, he loved the fact that he never had to change the time as it did it automatically by radio. Then something happened, the date column started spinning like mad when it suddenly stopped Aiden couldnt believe his eyes. 2552.
"Nice watch."
Aiden jumped to his feet startled by the voice. He stared at the owner of the voice who looked like a Hell's Angel reject.
"Must be worth a bit, how about a charitable donation."
Three more goons appeared and produced bats and a knife. Aiden dropped into a defensive stance as he had be taught to do for so many years and waited for the first fool to attack. One of the let out a long battle cry and swung missing Aiden completely and clattering against the wall. Immediately Aiden kick his attacker in the stomach winding him and then "relieved him" of his bat. He placed the man in an arm bar and broke his arm. The next one moved in and he ducked as the bat missed his head by millimeters. He smashed the end of the bat into his chest and sweeped up in a uppercut style movement. The final two tried to run but it was to late Aiden and enter one of his blind rages. He chased them down drop kicking them and beating them both with the bat till they quivered in fear.
Dropping the blood soaked bat he strode off proud of what he did and thinking of one word as he went.
Overkill
1st Lieutenant Aiden Smith 02:46, 7 January 2009 (UTC)
003
"AJ? Tony? What the hell..." Curtis thought as the 32 inch LCD screen suddenly shed its colors and displayed a solid black screen.
A tap of the silver guide button on the control pad did nothing, the Xbox refusing to respond to a simple input. Mashing the centeral button, he sighed as the game console did not even prompt him to shut down. Tossing the controller at the floor, Curtis pulled himself off the couch, walking towards the console and kneeling next to the system and pressing the power button on the front of the 360.
Instantly he felt a tingling in his arm, his vision becoming distorted as white overtook color, bleaching the little he could see. His mind began to slow, his brain not responding in anyway to what was happening.
Curtis' eyes opened to an entirely foreign sight, the familiar living room of his house replaced by overhead flourescent lights.
Where the hell am I? ran through his brain, his thoughts still slow as if he had waken from a nights sleep.
Lifting his head from the wall, he scanned the space around him, his eyes transmiting the information to his brain to be processed. The room was tiled with a polished tan material, almost what looked to be sandstone, several trees growing from small squares of soil at regular intervals. A glass wall allowed for what appeared to be a lobby to be bathed in sunlight, the many people that currently were passing through chatting as they strolled along. The next thing that he picked up on astonished him.
Jennings & Rall. Concord Research Campus
"Hey kid, you better have a reason to be here." the harsh tone of a womans voice piercing his thoughts.
Instantly focusing on the person, he was shocked to see her in Ravenwood tactical gear, the contractors logo clearly emblazoned on her armored vest, an M2A2 in her grip and a holstered M6 on her hip. The uniform was exactly like he had envisioned them to be, this had to be a hallucination.
"Where am I?" asked the confused minor.
The woman sighed, looking over to another man adorned in similar garb, only wielding an M7 in lieu of the carbine. She then focused on him again.
"Where do you think you are, your in the lobby of a research center" she told him, a slight worried tone behind it.
"What's the date?"
"October 17th, you seem like you hit your head or something, do you need me to get someone to help?" the contractor inquired, her posture relaxed compared to when she first called him out.
"What year?" Curtis blurted out, standing up as his head started spinning.
"2552, are you alright?Sir?"
Starting towards the door, he started to freak out, this had to be a dream, this was a fictional universe, but why the hell did it seem so real. Passing through the doors, he didn't know what to expect, if it was a dream he could just fall into the abyss like walking off the side of a cliff or something. Instead, he was now greeted by the outlines of skyscrapers in the distance, a sight that he only saw in downtown Charlotte, not the tiny suburban towns that were Harrisburg and Concord.
The parking lot was filled with a wide array of vehicles, recognizing some to be the ones he had created, and even just started to think about. Curtis didn't know where he was going, what he was going to do, or if this was real. As if to answer his question, he stumbled and pain shot up his leg as his knee impacted on concrete. Scrambling back to his feet, he continued on, albeit with a slight limp, all the while ignoring the cars and various people passing him.
How could this be happening? One minute he was playing Halo, the next he was actually in 2552. He froze, remembering the story of ilovebees. That had to be what was happening, the artifact from the plot, the one that shifted an AI into the past, was he flung into the future. No, that was crazy, there was no real science behind that, you couldn't just time travel, it was impossible.
Curtis was brought back to reality, well this reality, as he bumped into a man wearing a business suit, the device he was talking on clattering to the ground as he was abruptly interupted by the teenager.
"What the hell!" he yelled out, glaring at Curtis before crouching down to retrieve his phone.
"I'm sorry, I... didn't see you" he managed to get out, stepping back as the guy examined the shattered screen of the gadget.
"Idiot, that was a top of the line chatter, your paying me back!" the person yelled, realizing that it was beyond repair.
Curtis started to seriously freak, now people were staring, this was getting bad, five minutes into the future and he was already involved in a confrontation.
"I...I..." he studdered.
"Your a refu aren't you, are you even on the grid?" he yelled, his voice obviously showing he was frustrated.
Without thinking, he turned and ran, sprinting as fast as he possibly could as the man pursued. As he began to enter the actual city, he cut right, moving down the alley towards the next street over. A display on the edge of the sidewalk indicated he was on Valhalla avenue, recognizing the street name and recognizing that he was only four miles from where he lived.
004: What the frak?
Ryan seethed as he stumbled around the map, searching for opportune targets. His Elite character may have looked cool with its authentic Zealot-style armor colorations, but it made for poor camouflage and forced him to creep about the perimeter. At least that’s what he told himself, though he suspected his lack of “skillz” was probably a higher contributor to his lack of multiplayer success.
“Dai~!” he cried, Grunt-style, as a clever camper with Spartan armor killed him from behind. “Gah~!” His Elite body lay dead on the floor. As he watched, the Spartan player started to walk on it, choosing from Ryan’s dropped weapons.
“Oh, don’t you frakin’ corpse hump me,” he warned the screen, glaring at the Spartan. Then the screen started to warp and glow blue as the electricity failed, throwing the room into darkness. “What the frak?” Then the world faded away.
“My head…” Ryan groaned as he blinked his eyes. He had felt something like motion-sickness, only it was more of an intense disorientation. The kind where he wasn’t sure where the local point of gravity was supposed to be.
Then his eyes focused. What the? Where am I? he thought, staring at his surroundings. He sat on the sidewalk of what appeared to be a city block, only the city was… weird looking. For one thing, the buildings, though they looked old, appeared to be made out of some plastic-looking material like you might see on that technology show Beyond Tomorrow or something. For another thing, there were no lights on despite it being twilight hours.
This, however, seemed to be a common subject of confusion. Ryan overheard several people on the street remarking about the sudden blackout.
“You only rarely hear it so quiet,” one of the people marveled, his words accented rather oddly. Ryan couldn’t place the region of origin.
Out of the blue, power returned. The city at once lit up with brilliant light that blocked the stars from view. Various sounds of machinery, from traffic to trains, to other things Ryan couldn’t identify began to fill the air. Ryan realized that yes; it was very quiet compared to what the city sounded like normally.
“Oni’s testing their nasty tricks,” it sounded like the pedestrian said. Ryan assumed he was referencing the oni monster of Japanese myth, though he didn’t look like the manga-geek type.
…Although, Ryan wasn’t sure he could tell exactly what “type” the person was supposed to be. His clothes didn’t resemble any fashion Ryan knew about, and he wore strange earrings that seemed to change color depending on the angle one looked at them.
Ryan decided to approach him. “Excuse me?” he said, stepping over to the guy. “I’m kind of lost. I was wondering if you could tell me what city this is?”
“Hey, check out the authentic Y2K threadware!” the guy chuckled as he looked over Ryan’s outfit. “This is Seattle, o’ course. What’d you do, drain an alc-bev dispenser?”
Ryan could barely follow the slang, but he got the gist of it. “I’m not drunk, just a bit… disoriented… Um, Seattle, huh?” He glanced at the nearby buildings, none of which looked remotely familiar. “When did they put up this neighborhood?”
“Dunno,” the guy said with a shrug. “2530s, 2520s…”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. He had absolutely no idea what to make of someone saying he’d been dumped 500 years into the future. What was this, Talk Like a Future-Citizen Day or something?
“It was before the Insurrection,” offered a female teenager standing nearby, who was dressed in similar strange garb. Like the less than friendly guy, she possessed the same unfamiliar accent. “I know my grandmother moved here before anyone really cared about Reach as anything other than a glorified military base, but now…” Her face darkened. “Now all anyone talks about is the fall of Reach and the Covenant threat. How they only have ten and half light years to travel to find Earth…”
Ryan just stared, trying to process her words. What sounded at first like random nonsense was starting to sound very familiar. He was a Halo geek, after all. Heck, he helped manage the Halopedia! Which made him wonder just what happened with his game earlier. All he remembered was getting owned and then…
“Hey, are you a refu?” the girl asked suddenly.
“What?” he asked, startled. He knew the term, sure – a somewhat derogatory reference to a refugee emigrated to Earth from a colony world in an attempt to flee the approaching Covenant. However, it was a rather obscure word, used only in the ilovebees campaign and not something he’d expect the average Halo fan to know, much less use.
“Oh, I mean refugee. Sorry,” she apologized, apparently misunderstanding Ryan’s reaction. “It’s just your outfit seems kinda… low-grade. Your necklace looks like it’s gonna fall apart at any moment.”
Ryan glanced down at his silver ankh. It wasn’t the most fabulous piece of construction in the world, but it didn’t seem that bad… unless it was because it was made from a time 547 years before. Which was ridiculous of course. “Yeah, right. Why are you guys talking like we’re in Halo?”
“Halo?” She looked completely confused. “What does that mean? Is it offplanet slang?”
“No, seriously,” Ryan said forcefully. “What the frak is going on here?”
The guy with the chameleon earrings looked at Ryan with a concerned expression. “Are you okay? Do you want me to flag an ambulance?” He held up what Ryan supposed was a mobile phone, which looked like a cross between an iPhone and a Game Boy Advance.
Ryan closed his eyes. This was all so weird. First the messed up Halo game, now it he was like he was in Halo… Wait… Was it possible? He recalled the bizarre warping of the TV, then the blackout, and now this weird “future” place.
“No…” He opened his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry… Just hit my head earlier and I… What’s today’s date?”
The two people shared a quick look between them.
“Uh, October 17th, 2552,” the girl said.
Ryan’s thoughts raced. That was only three days before the Covenant invasion of Earth began. That meant he had three days to prepare before the whole planet went to hell.
He knew he had to act fast, but to do what? He could try to warn people, but who would listen to the crazy guy who thinks he’s from 2009 in an alternate universe where all this was fictional? Well, he supposed he could prove it through his knowledge of the Haloverse. However, that offered still more trouble.
He doubted ONI would take too kindly to someone knowing their secrets. Knowing them, they might consider him a spy or at least too great a liability to let go… Hey, that’s what he meant by ‘oni’, Ryan thought briefly. He thought the blackout was ONI’s doing…
And then it came to him. Of course, he thought. It was the Forerunner artifact from ilovebees that caused the blackout. That could explain how he arrived in the first place. If that artifact, which he knew intimately enough to write its article on Halopedia, was powerful enough to take Nassau Station to 2004 in the Dead or Alive universe it could potentially have drawn him from 2009 in his universe. Yep, this is officially insane.
But if this was a world in which ilovebees was not only canon, but real that could potentially offer him a source of security. He knew about vigilante groups that could perhaps stand a chance against the Covenant enough to change some things for the better. Who better than a Halo geek to navigate the Haloverse?
“Thanks,” he said. “Yes, thank you. I, uh, I am a refugee… I got here from Coral shortly before it was glassed. Listen, I have family in New Jersey, but I find myself a bit short on credits at the moment. Could either of you please get me a train ticket there? I hate to beg, but I have little in the way of money at the moment.”
“You’re off the grid, aren’t you?” the guy asked, looking at Ryan oddly.
“I… Yes,” he admitted. He knew there could be trouble at this point. Being off the grid usually meant you weren’t legally on Earth.
“I’m so sorry about Coral,” the girl interjected.
“Thanks,” Ryan said, trying to look reasonably dejected, like his homeworld really had been destroyed.
“I can’t get you on a train if you don’t have a chattersig,” the guy said, shaking his head. “But here,” he said, pulling up a holographic map of the city on his iPhone-like chatter, “There’s a packbus pick-up point here. They should be able to get you where you need to go. Might take a few days to get there, though.”
Ryan swallowed. In a few days the Covenant would invade… “Thanks,” he said anyway. “That’s really helpful.” He studied the map, trying to memorize it. Seattle had changed so much in 500 years… --Dragonclaws(talk) 08:58, 7 January 2009 (UTC)
005: Roll-call
Matthias, or "Matt", as he was nicknamed by most, including the users of Halofanon, continued to type words in the MSN window and sent to ONIrecon111 (nicknamed ONI), a fellow user on Halofanon.
<So, I'm sorry, but Deeper we go will be delayed indefinetly>
<Why?> ONI typed back.
<Sorry, I've lost the will to write it, and I've run out of ideas. I may write a chapter now and then when I have a sudden burst of inspiration and will, but don't sweat yourself waiting for any :(>
Matt waited for ONI's response, while he heard Angel curse at people on Xbox Live.
"Get out of hiding, you freakin' noob! AND STOP USING THE ROCKET YOU FAG! YOU FU-"
Then suddenly, the whole room they were in started to warp and glow blue, and then the two were gone, with Jonathan (Baccus) and Marcus (LieutenantDavies, LD) watching at the places Matt and Angel had just been with gaping mouths.
Matt woke up in an alley. He was certainly not in his hometown anymore, in fact, the architecture didn't look like that of any town on Earth. They appeared new and made with new materials, not reminding Matt of any building material he knew. He walked out of the alley, coming in front of a building. He read the sign: COLONIAL MILITIA RECRUITMENT CENTER. MILITIA SOLDIERS DESPERATELY NEEDED.
Matt looked both left and right. The streets were filled with what appeared to be refugees. For some reason, it reminded him of something that he'd read in Halo: The Cole Protocol. He decided to not disturb any of the refugees and instead went towards the Militia recruitment center, while thinking about why they called it "Colonial Militia" like in Halo. He was still covered in thoughts as he moved in through the door's building and up to a man sitting behind a desk, clad in military uniform. He looked up to Matt, not knowing he was occupied fighting his own logic.
"You here to aign up?" the man asked with hope in his eyes. If Matt had been focused, he would have been able to tell that few ever came here to sig up.
"Yeah, sure" Matt said, not focused.
"Your name?"
"Matthias Karlsson, with k and two s", Matt told him, still covered in thoughts.
"Then congratulations," the man said, smiling. "You're now in Earth's Washington Emergency Militia Program, ready to protect Washington in case of Covenant attack."
Then Matt finally understood; he had accidently signed up for a Colonial Militia! And worse, apparently, he was somehow in the Halo Universe, a short time before the Covenant attack Earth! It didn't appear logical no matter how he put it to himself, but he realized that it must be true. And if that was true, that meant Angel was in danger.
NOTICE: WHAT I TOLD ONI IN THIS POST IS ACTUALLY TRUE, AND I INCLUDED IT IN THIS POST TO MAKE SURE THAT THOSE INVOLVED IN HALO: DEEPER WE GO GETS TO KNOW OF ITS UNFORTUNATE FATE. ALSO, ANGEL'S SPEECH WAS SEVERELY FILTERED AND WRITTEN IN MORE FRIENDLY TERMS BY ME, OTHERWISE SHE'D SCARE THE BEJESUS OUT OF YOU. HOPE YOU ENJOYED MY POST :P
006: Enlighten Me
Slade's monotonous laughter crackled through his poor-quality headset, causing an anguished and angered reply from the player Slade had just run down using a mongoose. The insults were unoriginal, cutting Slades laughter short. On his television, Slade Wilson's Halo 3 character lept off it's vehicle, as a barrage from a battle-rifle shot around it. Slade's spartan spun, lobbed a frag and shot his opponent as the grenade exploded at his feet. Again there was groaning, the score looked like Slade was playing alone and Slade felt the familiar feeling of boredom as the moonlight broke through the clouds in the window behind him. Slade felt his eyes sting from lack of blinking, and was forced them shut as the screen buzzed a vibrant blue.
Slade opened his eyes and went to move his Spartan back onto it's mongoose, except there was no Mongoose, or Spartan, controller, TV or Room. Slade looked around, only seeing the faint outlines of skyscrapers above him.
"Blackout" a voice grunted behind him. Slade leapt as he noticed the dozens of people around him, his mouth hanged loose as his voice croaked out a timid yelp of suprise. "Hey, I'm not that ugly." the same voice said jokingly, spurring forced laugh from the people next to him.
"Uh, hi...can one of you guys tell me what's going on?" Slade asked, the confusion obvious in his usually unemotional voice. A head turned.
"What's there to know? It's a blackout, scared of the dark? Go back home."
"Hey, there could allways be more to it you know," another voice chirped out, "Like experiments draining our power, or it could've just been a some guy messing up at a grid."
Suddenly lights flared up, blinding Slade momentarily. As his eyes strained to readjust themselves he saw his first illuminated sight since a TV, people, a throng of them, filling up the streets lined with skyscrapers. They all seemed to get busily back to whatever it was they were doing. Slade scratched his head, before tapping the nearest person.
"Get off me!" she yelled quite suddenly, causing many of the surrounding crowd to stare as she whirled to face Slade as he grovelled out a plea.
"Please, um, where, uh, where am I?"
She glared at the him and Slade noticed her unusual attire. "What are you stupid?" she said rashly, earning a bewildered denial from Slade, "You're in New York."
"New York? In America?" Slade said, his colour visibly dissapearing from his face.
"No genius, in Asia."
Slade looked around, his eyes wide as if they were trying to take in his surroundings though he was really just to shocked to close them. "What day is it?" He stammered out again, only to find the woman had walked off.
"It's October 17th." said a girl who was standing outside what appeared to be a store.
"2009" he sighed, relieved.
The girl laughed "No silly, it's 2552."
I'm Sorry BabyI Can't Save Your Child, I'm To Busy
Being Delicious
007: Home Sweet Home
The 360 Controller as Josh took incoming fire, he quickly turned round and shot the opponent, he was playing Halo 2 PC. He heard down the Mic "Oh My God! You douche!" The 10 year old screamed down the mic. Joshua responed "Dude, calm it. 'Tis a game" Joshua continued to shoot the enemy team with Battle Rifles and SMGs, he continued to get disgruntled Messages from 10 Year old Americans. They were alomost as bad as his Brother who would complain non-stop about games which annoyed the Hell outta Josh. Just as Josh was about to hit 40 kills when a giant flash of light appeared before his eyes
Josh woke up to find that he was in Ballymena though it was different from what he remembered. He walked around the town to see if he could get his bearings
"Nice Clothes!" some chavvy people said as they walked passed
"Aye, your tight! Screw Off!" Joshua Responded
"Ohhh he's a fighter lads!" The Chav leader responded and began to walk over.
"Want your head kicked in son?" one of the Cronies.
Josh just smirked as they moved for the Kill, one of them went at him Josh grabbed hit arm twisted it and punched the back of the elbow hard, the cracking sound was horrible. The arm was broke the 3 other guys looked in horror and began to run away, Chavs were always cowards. "Oi smart arse, what date is it?!" Josh shouted to the ingured boy.
"uhh.. October 17th 2552" the boy replied feebly
"Oh, God" Josh said astonished "Here lemme help you." Josh began to put the arm into a temporary split.
"You better see a doctor, now run along" The boy sprinted down the Street.
For some odd reason Josh wasn't scared or angry, but infact he had a happy feeling inside him, for some odd reason he was Home.
008: (And you know this... how?)
Off in the distance, AJ heard the sounds of cooking, as well as the sweet, sweet smells of food, floating through the air, and right into his nostrils. He opened his eyes to find himself staring at a ceiling, lying on a plush bed cover in the clothes that he had fallen out in. He swung his legs over the side, got up, and walked into what had to be the kitchen, finding Jilan Johnson cooking food from her homeworld of New Jerusalem.
AJ grinned sheepishly, as Jilan was more beautiful than he ever imagined, then, looking over, saw Johnson, reading a news paper and watching the COM channels, muttering things like "bullshit". AJ rubbed his eyes, and looked at the two.
"Hello?"
"Hey, honey. Your catch of the day is awake.", said Jilan, with a grin.
"Well then. So, while you were asleep, I checked with some of my superiors... in all of the Colonial Administration's documents, there was no mention of an "AJ" anywhere, especially one with your name. So, who are you, where did you come from, and are you a member of the Covenant?"
AJ glanced around, and hoping to change the subject, muttered something:
"I'm God's own anti-sonofabitch machine."
Johnson slapped down his newspaper, then looked over at AJ, and stared at him.
"How did you know that?"
"Know what?"
"That saying... only myself and those that I've commanded use it. Now, who are you, where did you come from, and are you a member of the Covenant?"
"No, I'm not one of those split-chinned aliens, I come from Earth, and you already know who I am."
"Alright... well, all UNSC servicemen would know this one: What is the standard UNSC Assault Rifle?"
"MA5B Individual Combat Weapon System, holding over sixty-rounds of ammunition."
"Who is the commander of all UNSC forces?"
"Lord Terrence Hood."
"Hmf."
"Alright, one more question..."
He better get this one wrong, or I know something's up. thought Johnson.
"How many SPARTAN Programs are there?"
"Three, but you only know of two." replied AJ
Johnson shifted his unlit cigar in his mouth, then spit it out, coughing.
"SAY WHAT?"
"Yes, there are three. You were one of the first one's... John is a member of the second, and the third are so highly classified, you wouldn't know about them..."
"... you knew I was a I?"
"Yeah."
"How?"
"Uh... I read the files to Operation: KALEIDOSCOPE..."
"... those files are sealed by ONI. How the hell did you get them?"
"They were open..."
"What?"
"Alright... um... there's a very long story behind that... um... in... 2009... there was... a book... and inside, were the records to KALEIDOSCOPE..."
"... how the hell does a book in 2009 have the records of an operation that took place five hundred years later?"
Johnson stopped, shifted the cigar, then glanced over at his wife, then back at AJ.
"Well... never mind all that bull. I have to go to the Cairo in two days, and since I have nothing better to do with you, would you like to tag along?"
"Really?" said AJ, trying to hide his enthusiasm.
"Yeah. Here are some of my old fatigues, I'm sure you'll fit. From now on, you're Private AJ Lewis, a member of the 405th Regiment, assigned to the 7th ODST Regiment on a special program. Here's an M6C, just carry it for protection."
AJ took the large pistol, inspected it, then safed it, grabbed Johnson's old uniform, as well as a standard Marine helmet, put them all on, and waited while Johnson put on his dress uniform, packing a duffel bag with combat uniforms as well. -- Sgt.johnson 22:29, 7 January 2009 (UTC)
009: Welcome to Surreality
“You’ve never been on a space-ship before?” The little girl asked, astounded.
“Never, it’s cheap now right? To fly around in space, right?” Slade responded, a grin spreading across his face. The future. This place that at first left him in such a daze of confusion now had an air of optimistical excitement. His future looked fun.
“My daddy’s been on lots of space-ships all over the place. He went to the UNSC.” The little girl said matter-of-factly, nodding her head as she spoke as if she’d rehearsed it.
“UNSC huh? They stole that from Halo.” Slade laughed at the coincidence, and the girl laughed too. Slade bent down towards her, “So, this is New York…that…that’s interesting, but can you tell me whats happened to Australia in the past 500 years?”
“What’s Australia”
“Uh….You know, downunder, that huge continent country thing near the bottom of the pacific,” The girl stared at him blankly, as if Slade was speaking jibberish, “It’s important cause I’m from Australia, see and I want to find out -."
“So you did go on a spaceship!” The girl smiled
“What? No!”
“Yes you did, you came to Earth from Australia.”
“Listen Australia is on Earth, it’s another country.”
“Oh…what’s Halo?”
“Never mind…actually how are video games now-days?”
The girl bit her lip as she thought hard only for this train of thought to be broken as a woman’s voice shouted out a name and the girl dashed into the store that they were standing outside of.
“Uh, goodbye…” Slade said as she ran off, “I’m going to need a job to buy space-tickets…wait, do I exist on paper work here? And why am I thinking out loud… maybe some asterisks like * will help show that I’m thinking…wait, what am I saying?”
×I’m going to need to find a UNSC establishment first, to check the prices and locations, yea, asterisks always work. *
I'm Sorry BabyI Can't Save Your Child, I'm To BusyBeing Delicious
010: I can't haz...?
Bullets riddled the air as CJ dashed for cover. His shield were down, the entire enemy team was by him, and no teammates in sight.
Just the way I like it
Jumping from cover, CJ tossed a grenade at two of the men on his right, blasting them off the bridge. As the others approached, the Spartan got off a shot, downing two more, but was still outnumbered four to one. As they closed in, he waited for the sound of gunshots. But all he heard... was a beep.
"Wait, wait, guys; I have a message."
The blue-clad soldiers stopped in their tracks, patiently waiting for their enemy to return. Back in the real world, CJ pressed a button on his controller, bringing up the message. The sender was...
"Lukems?"
Dear Trill B, due to the fantastic screenshot that has been circling around our site, and the remarks it got from Marty, you have hereby been awarded with the Recon armor. Enjoy.
"Ho-lee ****. I won, I won, I freaking wo--"
The shout of joy slowly turned to a squeal of terror as CJ's eyes recovered from the blinding flash. All he could see was a lamp, and a small TV. He apparently was sitting on a couch. But where? The boy ran to the first window he could find, and looked outside.
A sprawling metropolis laid before him, thousands of people walking up and down the streets. Realizing the most obvious dilemma, CJ ran down to the street, and found a random person among them all. He asked where he was, and was told he was in Chicago, and the year was 2552.
He was lost. He had no idea what to do, and was on the verge of panic when he looked up at the billboard above him... It read "The Few. The Proud. The Marines." And below it was a symbol he recognized all too easily. And in a flash, he knew what to do. He ran into a nearby recruiting office, remarkably void of life. A sole woman sat at a desk punching random numbers into a computer terminal.
"I'd like to join the Marine Corps, please." He said to the lady. She glared at him with uncaring eyes.
"Aren't you a little short to be a Corps Trooper?"
CJ spitted at the poor reference, although he was too far-flung for the girl to really know its origins, he was sure of that.
"No, I'm 18."
"I don't believe it." The girl replied.
"I own a trilby hat."
The woman extended her hand to him. "You're in."
CJ shook her hand and sat down to fill out the paperwork. Finally, he was free. No more school, no more troubles, no more jerks from Halo Fanon, no more...
CJ dropped the pen in his hand as his mouth fell agape.
Oh, God, no.
MasterGreen999 00:56, 8 January 2009 (UTC)
011: Bus Musings
Ryan squirmed around, trying to get comfortable on the packbus seat. Though he lacked any form of recognizable currency, the driver had let him on in exchange for one of his rings, in the form of a silver dragon clutching a red stone. Apparently the guy had never seen anything quite like it, making it valuable enough to earn him passage to where he needed to go.
The trip wasn’t superb, but it at least included free food. Ryan knew from his research on Halopedia that packbuses always kept a few passengers on the grid so that the Civilian Administration Authority didn’t guess something was up. These legal citizens kindly provided food and drink for the rest of the bus.
However, as Ryan had feared, the food wasn’t quite up to par with what he was used to. The war with the Covenant had cost the UNSC much of their food supply, and there were all sorts of rationings of various ingredients. And so, he mainly just warmed himself with hot tea as he tried to figure out his situation.
“There’s more than one universe out there,” he noted, tapping his chin. “That is known fact. Qubit.org and the quantum computer projects are basing everything on that concept.” The particles’ reaction to counterparts in other universes provided the means for a transuniversal computer to be developed.
“But universes so different?” Normal theory suggested that alternate universes differed only by a few molecules. Enough, perhaps, to create an entirely separate timeline of events, true. He recalled reading a Back to the Future fanfic in which one life saved had led to nuclear apocalypse via the Ripple Effect, which held that the smallest changes could provoke vast consequences. But that still didn’t explain how a whole world could be represented as a work of fiction in another.
He tried thinking about it for a bit, but then shook his head. He wasn’t a scientist. It didn’t matter so much how it happened but that it did happen. For that, he had a few questions: A) Can it be reversed? And B) Was it an isolated incident?
While he loved the Haloverse as an observer, it was a really dangerous place to actually live in. He loved his home far more, and would want to terminate this vacation at some point. It could be a like he was on the end of a rubber band stretching out the longer he was in the Haloverse, and it would eventually snap back and send him home. On the other hand, going back could involve activating the Forerunner artifact again. That would be really really hard to accomplish, given that it was in the basement of Chawla Base, not to mention that it was implied to have the function of activating the Halo Array.
And it was entirely possible that lightning had struck once in sending him here, but it was also possible that it had also happened to other individuals. If so, it was important that he be able to find them and communicate with them. For one thing, they were all in the same boat and should stick together. For another, the arrival of people from a universe where Halo was fiction could seriously shake up the Haloverse. If someone as obsessed with Halo as Ryan was were to end up in the hands of the Covenant, say, or even the United Rebel Front? Well, that could have terrifying consequences.
Ryan took another sip of tea. There had to be some way to get the word out to other universe travelers, if they did indeed exist. What he needed was a way to communicate that he knew about the game without ONI wondering how he knew something so secret. He started thinking about maybe the Iris symbol, a Forerunner glyph thought to mean the number 0, but dismissed that idea. Civilians weren’t supposed to know Forerunner symbols…
However… There was the one instance of the Society of the Ancients. Those guys, general alien wackos of the 2007 era, had come to the conclusion that aliens, which they called “Ancients”, had visited the Earth in the distant past and had inspired humanity’s technology. Though Ryan doubted most of their examples (Stonehenge, the Antikythera mechanism, etc) were legitimate examples of alien visitation, they had succeeded in noting a Tasmanian petroglyph that depicted the Iris symbol. He wondered if the organization was still around. If it was, then perhaps he could use it to get the word out to other visitors from Ryan’s universe.
He considered also using it to send a warning of the approaching alien invasion. If he disguised his knowledge as, say, a psychic prediction, then perhaps he could influence enough people while staying under ONI’s radar. He’d seen enough science fiction movies to be wary of the government, especially one that had okayed the SPARTAN-II program. He wondered if SOTA was the right sort of “wacko” movement to broadcast a psychic. If it even still existed in any kind of form after 544 years.
Whatever the case, he would have to figure it out later. He sipped his tea and tried to make himself comfortable for the long wait ahead of him. --Dragonclaws(talk) 02:09, 8 January 2009 (UTC)
012
Ben was talking to Matt on MSN, a fellow user from Halo Fanon, after hearing the news that Deeper we go would be delayed. He looked at his X-chat window, checking to see if anyone was on, before the whole desk shook.
“What the hell?” Ben said to himself, looking puzzled, before realizing he had his 360 on.
“Oh, shit!”
He grabbed the controller, and unmuted the TV, before seeing himself die several times on Halo 3’s Matchmaking. Suddenly, the Internet and electricity went off, and Ben was gone, leaving the house empty.
Ben woke in an alley, and realized instantly that he wasn’t at home, or his home town. He stood up, and walked to the nearest exit of the alley, and looked down the road. There were people everywhere, and cars going down the road. He noticed the cars weren’t the usual shape or make, before he looked down the road to see a statue at the end of it. Nelson’s Column. He was in London. Ben turned to see recruitment centers lining the street, and soldiers stood by the desks, before noticing something specific about them. Their armor matched that of UNSC Marine, and the weapons they carried were BR55 Battle Rifles. Although he was amazed, Ben wasn’t sure what was going on.
“Excuse me, what date is it?” he asked a passerby in the street.
“It’s the...17th of October” The man replied.
“Year?”
“2552...”The man replied again.
Ben looked at him for a while, before realizing what was going on. He turned to see recruitment posters. “Fight for Her” “Fight for Humanity” “Defend Earth from The Covenant”. Ben had somehow travelled to 2552. The year the Covenant attack Earth. He was in the universe he had long been writing fan fiction about. He felt in his pocket for his phone, and pulled it out. He was attracting a lot of attention, especially because of the clothes he was wearing. He started walking, trying to get a reception on his phone, when he was stopped by one of the marines at the recruitment desk.
“What’s that you got there, boy?”
“Oh, err, nothing.”
The marine grabbed Ben’s hand and forced him to open it, and he picked up the phone.
“What the hell is this thing?” he said.
“It’s called a mobile phone.”
The marine looked at him, confused, before another marine interrupted.
“It’s an old 21st century thing, Corporal, go back and watch the desk.”
“Yes, sergeant” he replied, still looking puzzled.
The sergeant came over to Ben, and handed his phone back to him.
“Where did you get that?” He asked. “I’ve had it a while...”
“It yours?”
“Yeah, of course”
The marine took a look down the street, before he stepped back and saluted, as a female officer walked up to the sergeant.
“Why aren’t you over at the recruitment center?”
The sergeant looked towards Ben.
“A trouble maker, huh? Don’t worry sergeant; I’ll ‘relieve’ you of him.” She smiled, and asked Ben to follow her, which she did.
After several minutes of walking and weaving through pedestrians, they arrived at a small UNSC marine building, and went into one of the offices.
“Take a seat” she said to Ben.
Ben sat down, but said nothing.
“Not much of a talker, are you? Anyway, I need to know something’s about you, where you live, etc”
Ben looked at her, wondering what to say. ‘I was playing my Xbox, when I suddenly travelled several hundred years into the future’. He contemplated some more. ‘Should I lie about my age? Should I give her my name?’
“My name’s Ben, i’ve got no home as far as I know, and I’m...”
“17...”
She looked at him.
“No home? Where’d you come from? And what’s your full name?”
“St Anne’s, not far from Blackpool, up north.”
“Blackpool? That place has been gone for a long time, back in the 2400’s.”
Ben looked at her, and then looked away. ‘Gone?’
He looked at the ground. He muttered his name to her, and she wrote it down along with the rest of his details.
“Okay, I’ll check the records, you just go rest.” She pointed towards a room.
Ben got up and walked into the room. It was like a miniature house; there was a bedroom, although small, a small toilet, and a kitchen and dining area. Ben went straight into the bedroom, and instantly fell asleep when he lay down on the bed. Maybe it was all just a dream...
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013: Missed The Boat
"Hi, can I ask how much a trip to the moon is?"
The marines behind the desk stared at Slade for a few seconds before one of the piped up after being given a nudge from the other, "Welcome to the UNSC Marine Recruitment Centre, do you want to sign up?"
"No I wanted to....oh...is this a joke?"
"No, why? Is this some kind of a joke?" the Marine replied.
"Wait, UNSC Marines, like the ones in Halo."
A woman entered the room from a door behind the Marines , sandwich in hand and tapped the Marine not talking to Slade on the shoulder. "Sorry, Private, where do you keep the drinks here?"
Slade recognised her, not only as the woman he bumped into before, but also as, "Miranda Keyes?"
Miranda turned and stared at him, looking him up and down, "How do you know my name?"
Slade laughed, "Okay, this is a joke right? You're Miranda Keyes son of Jacob who died on Halo, ha! Hey can I meet the Master Chief? And Avery Johnson? Ha Ha, how are you going to pull off the Prophet of Truth, a guy in a body suit? Give the joke up, just take me home."
The Marines turned to Miranda, her fists tightened, "Listen I want to know how you know about my father, Halo and all the other stuff you just mentioned, if you don't cooperate I have authority to hold you in the brig of my ship, and from there, hey who knows how far into a prison you'll sink."
"In Amber Clad? You can't pull that off, wait, yea let's go. You know though, you're playing Miranda as a lot of a harsher character than the game depicted in my books."
"Quit speaking nonsense, you want to go to the brig that's fine by me, Marines place him under temporary arrest I want him at In Amber Clad in twenty minutes and I want him ready for interrogation in another ten after that." Miranda glared at Slade, "If we don't crack you I'm sure ONI will be more than happy to check out this case."
I'm Sorry BabyI Can't Save Your Child, I'm To BusyBeing Delicious
014: Day Dreamer
Judith dropped on her bed after a tiring day at school, too lazy to change her attire. Life with the International Baccalaureate programme was hard, considering that it is a pre-university program. It sucked the life out of her. She covered her eyes with her left hand and sighed.
"Why did I enroled in this stupid program. I would be better off studying..." Judith snatched a pillow and shouted at the top of her lungs. Unknown to her, her table lamp began to turn on and off. Then, the entire room began to follow suite.
Somewhat relieved, she rubbed her eyes and yawned. Then, she laid back and relaxed and slowly fell asleep.
The electrivity in her room suddenly juiced up; her table lamp gettign brighter than its capacity, her television began transmitting radio chatters from nowhere, but she was unaware, slowly slipping into Dream Ville. A short burst of light enveloped the room.
She was gone, along with everything in the room.
Judith rolled to the side of the bed, trying to make herself comfortable, but instead, she fell. Her floor was muddy and has that smell - the outdoors. She grunted and slowly stood up, scrathing her head.
Judith sat on her bed, trying to gather her focus. Something is wrong , her mind whispered to her ears.
The first thing she saw was the Orbital Space Elevator. She became confused. They had similar design and architectural elements as to what she had seen in Halo 2 and Halo 3.
"You've got to be kidding," Judith talked to herself. Slowly, she assessed her status. "Headache, blurry vision, and elements from my previous memory is still here." Judith dived on her bed and closed her eyes. "Stupid dreams. I don't want another Halo dream."
5ub7ank(7alk) 11:53, 8 January 2009 (UTC)
015
James sighed. This was the fourth spammer he'd kicked from IRC today. He swiveled his computer chair back to the TV and unpaused the game. He had gotten Live the day before, and had already unlocked most of the Spartan armour perms. No one was online, so he was playing through campaign on Heroic. He was about to crush a Grunt's skull on The Covenant, when his TV began glowing a vibrant blue.
"What the hell!?" he yelled
He crouched beside his TV and began fiddling with the cables on the back. Nothing. He stood up, then grabbed his SJHS hat off the computer table, just as the glow exploded from his TV and he blacked out.
James fell to the earth with a thump. He groaned, then pulled himself to his feet. Looking around, he noticed he wasn't in his home town anymore. He was far from it. The coast was no where in sight. He looked around, trying to find his bearings. He glanced at his watch. Midnight. He ran down the alley, and out into the street. A glowing sign above him stated the date and temperature. He couldn't believe his eyes.
"No.. I can't be in 2552..." he whispered
He ran down the street, zipping up his hoodie. At the end of the road he looked around. In front of him was a massive tower, soaring above the cloud cover. A Space Elevator! His eyes widened. He ran back to the alley he had showed up in. Lying on the ground in it was his hat and shoes. He pulled them on, then hid between a group of garbage cans for the night. "At least the trash doesn't smell as bad in the future." -Legends May Die, Heroes May Fall, But We, Shall Conquer
016: Life's a Bitch
Miranda eyed Slade from across the table, what little light the dull grey room had directed solely on Slades timid face. Miranda got up and walked over to him, scraping her hand along the desk as she went, “You’re not on the Grid,” She smiled, “You’re here illegally, you have no papers, no name, you don’t exist in the database and we found these on you,” Miranda slapped down a few plastic bags containing Slades Ipod, Mobile and 360 Headset, “Early 2000 technology, likely stolen, but why. Tell me who are you and how do you know so much about me and my colleagues.”
Slade was still stunned from the walk to the ship, he’d seen guns, warthogs and In Amber Clad itself and had no idea how it could all be happening to him. “Uh…I’m Slade Wilson and I know it from playing the Halo games.”
Miranda put her hand to her head and sighed, “Delusional, but still I’ve got enough on you to make this legal and maybe to put you away.”
“I’m going to prison?”
“Maybe, unless you co-operate, stress co-operate, no more jibberish about games, who are you with, cause if you are ONI I want to know now and I want proof. Or are you a rebel?”
“Uh…I’m ONI but I’ve left all my proof at my house, so if you could just –“
“I’m not stupid Mr Wilson no matter how much you seem to think otherwise, we have reports of a similar case of this coming from Marines in Ireland.”
“What?”
“That’s right we’ve found your friends.”
“There are others?”
“Don’t you play innocent Mr Wilson, as I said before, co-operation or life in a cell.”
“Can I meet them?”
“No. Not until you tell me everything.”
“I don’t know what you want! I can’t explain this!”
Miranda grimaced before signalling for the two marines by the door to take him away, “Right before I get fathers honours, do you know how hard this is?”
“You’re about to go to Cairo Station?” Slade half-shouted, causing a surprised Miranda to stop the Marines from dragging him off.
“Tell me how do you know this!” She said with a mixture of distress and annoyance.
“It’s the start of 2 the Covenant are going to attack Earth!”
Miranda spun away from Slade and signalled again for the Marines to drag him off.
I'm Sorry BabyI Can't Save Your Child, I'm To BusyBeing Delicious
017: Welcome to Space!
AJ and Johnson boarded a small elevator at the New York Space Center, which took them up to a large space station that was in geosynchrnous orbit around Earth. AJ felt the artificial gravity, and marvelled at the futuristic archetecture, as well as the fashion. What AJ didn't like was the music - the only thing people listened to now was a descendant of 21st century hip-hop - and Avery gave AJ his small disc player, in side of it a disc full of "flip music". AJ popped in the earphones and blasted the heavy metal like-sound into his ears, bobbing his head to the beat. Avery laughed, and when they finally boarded a UNSC shuttle to the Cairo, AJ took out the earphones and marvelled at space.
"So, this is what space is like..."
"You've never been in...
said Avery.
"Yeah... 2009, remember.
"That's right. So, kid, when we get to the Cairo, I'm dumping you off on Staff Sergeant Banks, one of my squad leaders. He'll take care of you."
"Yes, Sir". said AJ, remembering Banks from Halo 2, the same man who requested reinforcements and got a SPARTAN. After the short trip, AJ heard the airlock open and stepped aboard the Cairo Station, none of the Marine Guards questioning his arrival as he was with Johnson, who was going to be decorated as a war hero. AJ followed Johnson to the processing station, where Lord Hood walked over to Johnson, shaking his hand.
"Welcome to the Cairo, Johnson. Who's the kid?"
"Private AJ Lewis, he just got out of boot, survived Reach. Found him in New York, AWOL. I'm attaching him to my unit."
"Ah... nice to meet you, son. Aren't you a little too young to...?
AJ rolled his eyes, then, correcting himself, replied "Sir, no Sir", and walked off with Johnson towards the Cairo's barracks, where he met his new squad.
Off in the corner, wrestling with a foot locker was Private First Class Morales, in the other corner was Corporal Reynolds, a cousin to Gunnery Sergeant Reynolds, sleeping on a cot with a folded porn magazine was Private Polaski, and sitting in a small rocking chair, quietly cleaning his pistol was Staff Sergeant Banks.
"Johnson! I was wondering when you were going to make it off leave! Who's the kid?"
"Banks, here's your new squad member. Private AJ Lewis, made it off Reach, went AWOL."
"Isn't he a little young to be a Marine?"
"He's old enough."
"Whatever you say, Sergeant Major. Alright, Lewis, you're comin' with me and the squad. We're going to test you out, make sure you're combat ready, just in case the Covies show up. What'd you qualify?"
AJ thought back to his JROTC days, when they shot pellet guns at paper targets, and picked out his marksmanship rank.
"Sharpshooter, Staff Sergeant."
"Alrighty. Stow your gear, and grab that bee arr. Get ready for a little target practice."
AJ walked over to the armory rack, picked up the BR55, which was stamped with the logo of the HRV Armament Company, smiled a bit, then grabbed a full magazine, slapped it in, and didn't charge the handle, not wanting it to go off and kill someone.
While walking down the hallway, AJ, admiring his weapon, nearly walked into a man. He was 6'11, neck as wide as a fire plug, had a military haircut, as well as scars all over his body. On his upper forearm was a tattoo, with three simple numbers: 117. AJ stopped, and in awe, said: "Master Chief..."
"Yes... that's my name... most people don't recognize me out of uniform..."
AJ walked on, looking back at the SPARTAN, the infamous Master Chief. AJ continued his march towards the rifle range, stopped, and hefted his BR55. He placed on the ear protectors, yanked the charging handle, put the weapon on burst fire, and took aim at the farthest target. After steadying his breathing, he fired.
-- Sgt.johnson 22:20, 8 January 2009 (UTC) "
018: Hasty Decision-making
CJ stood at his post with the rest of his squad on the Cairo, casually by the staircase watching men and women go by. He recognized the place where first contact the Chief made with the Covenant in Halo 2 was at this staircase, but he was secure in the knowledge it wasn't time for the invasion yet. He noticed one of the other soldiers, Corporal Dumont, was eyeing his trilby hat. As the corporal reached for it, CJ swatted him away.
"No one touches my trilby."
"And what are you gonna do about it, Trilby?" Dumont asked mockingly. He reached again, but this time CJ was fully prepared. He ducked under the grab, and swung his foot out, knocking Dumont to the floor. He grabbed the man's arm and twisted it to the near breaking point, and sat on his back, keeping him locked in place.
"Huh, Trilby... not a bad nickname. Thanks." CJ then got and went back to the soda machine nearby. Suddenly, a thought occurred, and he reached into the undershirt he had been wearing since he arrived's pocket, and pulled out his Ipod.
Huh... Might as well listen.
He flipped it on, to hear the familiar opening to Basket Case, and put it on full blast. He quickly got stares from the others.
"What kind of music is that?" Private O'Donnell asked. "It doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard."
"It's called Punk Rock. How can you guys not know who Green Day is?"
"Punk Rock? I ain't never heard of no--"
"Commander on deck!" A man yelled. All the soldiers turned and saluted as Miranda Keyes entered the room. As she passed, CJ - or Trilby - heard her whisper something about "a boy who thinks he's from the year 2008." Trilby was startled for a moment, but without thinking, he began to follow her, formulating a plan as he went.
MasterGreen999 20:44, 9 January 2009 (UTC)
019: Friends in the Future
James was awoken by a gentle buzzing at his hip. He groaned and opened his eyes. The buzzing continued, and he remembered his cell phone was in his pocket. He pulled out the device, surprised it had reception this far in the future.
"Hello?"
"James? It's Ben, you'd know me better as ONI from IRC."
James' jaw dropped "Ben!? Wait, are you in 2552, too?"
"Yeah. I'm in London, staying with some Marines."
"Marines? UNSC Marines!?" James asked
"Yeah, man! I saw some of the guns, they're all real!" Ben replied
"Sweet, I'll try and figure out a way over there, can't be to hard in the future, you know?"
"Yeah, I got to go, bye."
"Alright. Seeya, man"
James shut the phone, then turned it off to save the battery. He pulled off his hat, shoving it into his pocket, then headed out into the street. There, he say another thing that made his jaw drop. A trio of men walking down the street that he immediately recognized. One man noticed him, and frowned.
"Piss off, kid" he snarled
"Cobb, shut it." the leader of the three said "What do you want, son?"
James just gaped. Finally, he managed to choke out "Are you.. Are you Maddox Reynolds?"
"That I am, why?"
"You own the Radiance, a Firefly-class?"
"Yeah, how did you know?"
"Long story... Uh, hey, can you give me a ride to London? I don't have much money, but..."
The third man cut him off, "Boss, what about that 'business' in the US?"
"We'll get there, Muldoon" Maddox said "We need to lay low for a bit, London would be a nice place, don't worry about paying, it's not far out of our way."
"Thanks!" James said
"Don't mention it. Cobb, Muldoon, go get whatever essential supplies we need."
Cobb and Muldoon left, and James followed Reynolds through the maze of streets to a spaceport. James immediately picked out the Radiance, as he had created it on Halo Fanon back in 2008. Maddox saw him staring and laughed. He said "Like the ship?"
"Yes."
"You and Christina, our mechanic, will get along fine, then." he laughed
After what seemed like an hour, Muldoon and Cobb returned to the ship, and they took off. The "business" turned out to be a person they picked up. Once the newest passenger was aboard, they took off and made their way to England. James climbed out of the ship. He was sad to leave it, but he knew they were part of and anti-UNSC movement, and should be avoided. He pulled out his phone, turned it on, then dialed Ben's number.
"Hello?"
"Hey. It's me," James said "I'm in London, at the West London Spaceport."
-Legends May Die, Heroes May Fall, But We, Shall Conquer
020:Excuse me?
Joshua was walking around the familiar town which had housed him over 500 Years ago.
"Excuse me, sir?" a Marine said.
"What?" Joshua said in return
"Your to come with us." The Marine said as two other Marines flanked him each with M7s
"Like hell I am!" Josh screamed and began to run. He thought he heard Open Fire but that didn't matter as 3 seconds later something hit him three times in the back, he stumbled and fell and darkness enthralled him.
Joshua awoke in what appeared to be a brig.
"Bring him to interrogation" a voice over the intercom said.
2 minutes later Joshua was at the brig and was sat down with a glass of water infront of him.
"How can I help Miss.Keyes?" He smirked
"Don't be cheeky with me boy!" She spat
"Awww you so much nicer in the Games." Josh said, continuing to smile
"Listen, we have more of you! Tell me WHO ARE YOU!"
"Excuse me? There's more?"
"GOD DAMMIT! Take him away!"
The Marines guarding him picked him up.
"Wait there's more where are they?! Tell me!" He screamed, before he was thrown into his cell and shot twice with TTR, he was asleep.
Once a man enters his sights,
021: Aren't you a little short to be a Marine?
Trilby ducked into a room as Commander Keyes walked by, and continued down the hall where she had come from. He found two Marines standing in front of what appeared to be the brig. He approached the one on the right.
"I'm your relief. Commander needs to talk to you."
"Aren't you a little short to be--" but the soldier was cut off by Trilby's rant.
"Listen, that joke is 500 years old, if you are going to beat a dead horse, try a corpse that still has something on it to beat. Now, just go."
As the man passed, he heard something muttered about his hat, but he let it slide... for now. He took up his spot guarding, and glanced at the man next to him.
"So, uhhh... you got the cell key in your pocket?"
"Yep."
"And, uhhh... these guns shoot tranquilizers?"
"Yep."
Within a second four needles were in the man's arm, and he dropped to the floor. Trilby fished the key out of his pocket, and ran into the brig. He found two people near his age on the floor, sleeping. He quickly began unlocking the cell.
"God, I hope these are the right ones. I've broken out at least a dozen convicts by now."
MasterGreen999 19:17, 11 January 2009 (UTC)
22: Nice Shot, Man!
After AJ let loose with his BR55, he nailed every target with a headshot, and set the smoking rifle on the table. His squadmates congratulated him, and when they reached their rooms, AJ finally realized something.
It's October 17th. The Covenant come in 3 days...
He decided it was time to get off the Cairo.
AJ picked up a pen and paper, and wrote a letter to Johnson:
"Dear Avery Johnson,
It was nice of you to welcome me into your home and take care of me for this past day. I really appreciate it, and you deserve that award! One thing though... if you ever meet something you'd call "tinkerbell" or "lightbulb", watch your back. Stay safe!
Sincerely, AJ Lewis"
After doing that, and putting it into Johnson's dress uniform, he ran out of his room, grabbed a BR55 and some ammunition from one of the many Arms stations, as well as a M7 Submachine gun, and went to the IAC to look for a shuttle.
After running into the IAC, he started searching for the hangar bay, which he knew was somewhere in the back, and he had to go through the brig to get there.
After walking past a frustrated Marine, he stumbled across one, who was freeing two people locked in holding cells. AJ dropped his bag, and looked. They were his age, and they obviously weren't from that time period.
So, thinking quickly, he decided to do something that only people from his time period would know:
"So, you hear about Britney Spears being put into rehab?"
-- Sgt.johnson 19:24, 11 January 2009 (UTC)
023: *Insert Witty Remark Here*
"What?" Trilby asked. "Again?"
He finished unlocking the cell, and turned around to shake the person that had walked in's hand.
"Name's AJ." He said.
"Call me Trilby." CJ responded. He turned back to look at the two still asleep. "We'd better get these two out of here. I've got, like, thirty marines thinking the Commander has a meeting with them scheduled. She's gonna know something's up in a couple of minutes."
"Well, what should we do?" AJ asked.
Trilby sat down in thought. He was going to suggest they shoot their way out to mix things up a bit, but when he reached for his gun, all he found was a key for some reason. Suddenly, he had an epiphany.
"What about HEV's? If we take them down to Earth, we might be able to get far enough from the UNSC to escape."
MasterGreen999 22:36, 11 January 2009 (UTC)
024: Feet First Into Hell?!
AJ looked over at Trilby, and shook his head in amazement.
We use HEV's, we're going to die! I was thinking about hijacking a shuttle and heading to the New York space port. From there, we can simply disappear off the grid, and probably head to New Jersey... I think I know of someone down there that can give us fake identities. AJ said, with a wink. -- Sgt.johnson 22:43, 11 January 2009 (UTC)
025: Why New Jersey?
Trilby paused a moment.
"Was that a New Jersey joke? Either way, I guess it's better than my plan. Let's go."
Each of the time-travelers grabbed one of the sleeping prisoners and began to run for the hangar.
MasterGreen999 23:24, 11 January 2009 (UTC)
026: A helping hand
Aiden watched as the armour clad marines strode past laughing and joking. Little did they know of the coming storm soon to more then likely kill them all. He didn’t realise how bad the UNSC’s defenses where as he had snuck aboard a pelican and managed to get aboard the Cairo. As he rounded the corner and into a room he went light headed and wobbled slightly. ‘’Déjà vu’’ It was the armoury from Halo 2 where he first moved the Chief and began the epic defence of Earth.
“Can I help you son?”
Aiden jumped out of his skin as the husky voice pierced the silence. He spun on his heel and saw a ghost, the Master Gunnery Sergeant. The man who helped players enter the world of Halo by testing the armour.
“Yes sir. I’m straight out of basic and about 3 weeks early so I have no idea what’s going on,” Aiden replied calmly
“Same with all of us kid what’s your name?”
“Private First Class Aiden Smith.”
Aiden had snuck away to “go to the loo” when he found shooting range with a Battle Rifle and a note. It was signed AJ Lewis. That’s when it hit home. Grabbing the rifle he sprinted looking for the owner of the note. He made it to where In Amber Clad was docked and managed to convince the guards he was stationed onboard. He managed to find the brig and saw something very unusual. Two guys, one in a trilby hat and the other clothes similar to Sgt Johnson’s from the Halo games. They slung what looked like to be knocked out marines or even prisoners over their shoulders. Turning round they froze when they saw him they looked at each other then back at him. Aiden looked at both of them and smiled.
“Need a hand?”
1st Lieutenant Aiden Smith 01:37, 12 January 2009 (UTC)
027
Curtis stared out the window at the passing landscape, wondering what the hell he was doing here. He had been playing Halo 3, the next thing he knew, he was sitting in the lobby of a research campus of a company he created in 2552. Following walking around in a dazed stupor, he managed to break some idiots chatter and get arrested. After being broken out by some pro-rights organization for refugees, he got a ticket for a packbus and was headed to New Jersey to get a fake ID and get on a grid that was supposed to be fictional.
How the hell did this happen? Time travel was impossible, and some fictional artifact from a fictional species managed to pull him into the future. There was no way this was a hallucination, he could feel pain, he could feel sleepy, it was real. Nothing was making sense, except the fact that it appeared everything on Halo Fanon was real and that he seemed to be living in the I Love Bees storyline now.
028: Put Me Back
Slade drowsily counted the blurs that passed him as he struggled to keep his eyes open. The marine carrying him lurched and Slade felt like vomiting, “Listen….This isn’t a practical procedure, see….can’t you just le’me walk around a bit?”
The Marine carrying him laughed, “Sure thing bud.” Dropped him on the floor. Slade swore as he struggled to his feet , trying desperately to shake himself awake.
“Did you guys dr-drug me or something?” Slade said as he swung his head upright.
“Us? Nope, the Marines? Looks like it.” His captor said, though it was only then that Slade realised this man wasn’t his captor at all, despite his UNSC Marine Uniform. They were in the shooting range, with another marine that had another “prisoner” slung over his shoulder, who was holding a soldier, desperatly trying to talk his way out his situation at gunpoint.
“No, No I’m from 2009 as well!” He was yelling.
“Prove it.” The Marine snarled.
“Uh…The Dark Knight was released the year before and broke numerous box-office records?”
“Ok…that’d be pretty hard to know 500 years on, who are you?”
“I’m Aiden, and that’s some greeting you’ve got there….real friendly.”
“Shut Up, do want to escape with us or not.”
“Er…Escape? And you didn’t tell me your name.”
“There’s a reason for that, just call me AJ, and the Covenant are going to attack soon and I dunno about you but I don’t want to be here when they do.”
Slade turned to the Marine that’d carried him, “Your from 2009 too?," The marine nodded and Slade smiled drousily, "Why don’t we want to be around? Wouldn’t it be fun to play the first level?”
“Hey yea, it would be, it’d be pretty fun to be completely slaughtered by Aliens, wouldn’t it?”
“Screw you…with your stupid trilby hat…I didn’t even know I knew what a trilby hat was, but know I do I don’t like it.”
“Don’t mock the hat.”
“Why, given to you by a Yonkou, your little treasure?”
Trilby hoisted the “asleep” Slade over his shoulder again.
“Wasn’t that guy awake just before?” AJ asked as they exited the firing range.
“Nope.” Trilby smiled, hiding the bruises on Slades head.
I'm Sorry BabyI Can't Save Your Child, I'm To BusyBeing Delicious
029: On The Run
James heard a chorus of gasps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and noticed a pair of olive drab vehicles parking by the curb. His jaw dropped, "Transport Hogs!" he thought. The first one was filled with armed Marines, and in the back of the second was Ben!
The Marine in the passenger seat of Ben's Hog hopped out, pulled a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket, then advanced toward James. James began to back away, then he saw the drop the cuffs and raise his rifle. A gunshot rang out and the Marine collapsed in a pool of his own blood. Several more shots rang out and the other Marines began dropping. Seconds later a rough hand grabbed his shoulder, and a vaguely familiar voice said: "C'mon, kid. Let's go!"
"But... Wait! We need to get my friend Ben from the Hog!"
Maddox stopped, then called out "Muldoon, get the other kid"
Minutes later, they were aboard the Radiance, and the ship was airborne. James snuck past Cobb and made his way to the bridge, he was familiar with the ship since he had created it based off of the Serenity from the old TV show Firefly. In the bridge was Maddox, Wash, and Jane. He noticed some alerts going off on the control panel.
"Are UNSC fighters followoing us?" he asked
Maddox scowled and turned around, "Get out of here! Get back to your room!"
"Are UNSC fighters following us!?" James yelled
"GET OU--" Maddox began
"CAPTAIN! He has a right to know." Jane interrupted
Maddox frowned, looked at the panel, then said "A pair of them, but they're pretty far out, we'll outrun 'em"
"Where are we going?" James asked
"Where ever I want to" Wash piped in
"New Jersey..." James whispered
"Where?"
"New Jersey, USA. We have to go there." James said, and with that he ran off into the ship. -DeltaTalkContribs
030: In which a call gets made and a bus driver gets confused.
After spending the entirety of the day in transit, Ryan took the initiative to leave the bus while it was stopped in a city in eastern North Dakota, which was about halfway to his destination. According to his watch… Well, technically his watch said it was 2009, but anyway he could tell that it had been at least seventeen hours since he left Seattle. It was time to stretch his legs… make some preparations.
He had asked to use the bus driver’s chatter to do a little Internet research. The bus driver had seemed a little bemused at Ryan’s use of the word ‘Internet’ – Ryan supposed it was akin to a 2009er using the term ‘motorcar’ – but had allowed it, just so long as Ryan didn’t do anything illegal with it. Ryan had assured him he would not, and commenced to figuring out the device.
“Where did you say you were from?” the driver asked after a few minutes of Ryan’s less-than-successful attempts to use the chatter.
“Coral,” Ryan answered, trying to see if the chatter responded to tilting (it did).
“Yeah…” the driver drawled. “You don’t look like you’re from Coral.”
“Fine,” Ryan admitted, annoyed. It shouldn’t matter in an illegal transport service if his story was accurate. “I’m from Tribute, then. Harmony. Troy. What does it matter?”
The driver raised his eyebrows and spread his arms. “I guess it doesn’t…” He watched Ryan with a curious expression.
Ah, yes! Ryan thought as he successfully opened what looked like a web search application. Now for the keys… He managed to type out a search for “society of the ancients”.
A little ‘busy’ icon appeared, similar in style to manga, as the search went. After a few seconds, the results came back. Ryan frowned in disappointment.
There was nothing to do with the UFO nuthouse Society of the Ancients. Instead, he got selected text from articles on political theory and sociology. It seemed that SOTA had been consumed by the depths of time.
Ryan sighed. He decided to look for something along the same lines. He did another search for “Tasmanian petroglyph” and included the tag “xenoarchaeology”. This time, he did get what he wanted.
“Research Center for the Study of Prehistoric Alien Visitation,” he read aloud. The organization seemed legitimate… or as legitimate as these characters tended to be, anyway. The site did have the picture of the Tasmanian petroglyph depicting the Iris symbol. Looked like SOTA wasn’t the last alien-nut group to take interest in the etching.
Ryan saw a hyperlink to call them. Might as well… Unsure what he intended to say, Ryan activated the call. Fortunately, the chatter still obviously functioned in the similar manner of holding a phone to one’s ear and mouth – otherwise he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done.
“Hello,” he said when the phone connected with an answering machine. “My name is…” He hesitated, wondering whether or not to use his real name. “…Joe Staten. I thought I might offer you some information that might be of interest. Um, that petroglyph that you have posted on your domain… I know for a fact that it represents a numerical value used by a race of aliens known as Forerunner, who coexisted with humanity some hundred thousand years ago. I also know that the Covenant have a high interest in the Forerunner… one built into their society and culture. I can present the evidence to support this claim, but I would like a… a favor in return.
“I represent a group of individuals known as the Halopedians. I would like to let all of my fellow Halopedians know that they should converge in New Jersey to meet a man named Kamal Zaman. If you could arrange a wide-spread availability of messages to appear in public channels, I could be persuaded to reveal valuable information regarding the Forerunner.” Ryan started to terminate the call, but then reconsidered. “Oh,” he added, “If my calculations are correct… the colossal EMP may well attract the Covenant. Very soon… within days… we could be looking at an invasion of planet Earth.” He disconnected.
“You know,” the driver said, “If you wanted an ad campaign, there are services specifically tailored for that kind of thing.”
“Maybe so,” Ryan said, “But I don’t have an identity on Earth. Hard to pay someone when you’re off the grid. Thanks for letting me use this.” He handed the chatter back to the driver.
“No problem…” The driver accepted it, giving Ryan a really weird look. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you were an alien.”
Ryan chuckled. In a sense he was. “Maybe I am,” he joked. “Maybe I’m the Prophet of Truth, leader of the Covenant…”
The guy snorted. “Yeah, a ‘prophet.’”
Ryan headed back onto the bus. He wasn’t surprised the driver hadn’t understood his reference. After all, the Prophets were largely unknown at this time. In a few weeks, the Prophet of Truth will enter the public eye… and that guy will be really really unnerved by me, he thought in satisfaction, preparing himself for another long wait.
--Dragonclaws(talk) 07:06, 13 January 2009 (UTC)
31: A Warning
The newly formed "squad" of people strapped into the small shuttle, and AJ keyed up the systems, not knowing too well what he was doing.
"I'm guessing that that button right there means "start". Correct?"
"Yeah" said Trilby, checking the life support systems."
"Alright. Before we blast away, send out a burst message on the FLEETCOM. Tell them to prepare their defenses, a Covenant fleet is coming in about two days, and they're going to appear from out by Pluto."
Trilby did so, typing up a short message, then sending it away.
PRIVATE FIRST CLASS TRILBY TO FLEET ADMIRAL TERRANCE HOOD
THE COVENANT ARE COMING. YOUR BEST EFFORTS COULD NOT STOP THEIR MACHINE. NO, NO ONE IS TO BLAME. THEY'RE COMING HERE TO LOOK FOR SOMETHING. IF YOU CAN TAKE OUT THE TWO ASSAULT CARRIERS FIRST, YOU CAN SPARE EARTH FROM A SECOND COVENANT FLEET.
SINCERELY, TRILBY
That message sent, AJ looked back at their "prisoners", and gunned it, flying away from the In Amber Clad.
Alright, Trilby, one more thing. When we get down to Earth, try to find some Alien wackos that we can... communicate, with. -- Sgt.johnson 13:49, 13 January 2009 (UTC)
032: Childs Play
Slade looked around his new room, it was small, and for some reason made his head sore. He was buckled into his seat tightly, so much so he felt the belt strain into him as he breathed out. Moaning, Slade looked over at the other guy next to him, whose head was resting on his shoulder, Slade shoved him but there was no response.
“Oh hey you’re up.” The Marine sitting across from him smiled cheerfully.
“Where am I?”
“Shuttle, we’re going back to Earth!” The marine said, visibly excited.
“Oh…wait, you’re from 2009 too right?”
“Oh yea, I’m Aiden, nice to meet you…um”
“I’m Slade.” Slade mumbled as the guy next to him, headbutted his shoulder again, “how long was I out.”
“I dunno.” Aiden said truthfully, seeming embarrassed that he didn’t possess the answer, “Hey AJ! Slade’s awake!” Aiden yelled out, and Slade finally took in the view, the shuttle they were in may have been dark and dank, but seeing Earth out the window was jaw dropping.
“Shut the Hell up! I’m driving!” Came the response from the figure hidden behind the pilots seat. After a slightly awkward silence the Pilot yelled out again “Who the hell’s Slade!”
“Duh, I dunno, maybe one of the two other people you dragged aboard.” Aiden joked back.
“Is it the guy with the bruised up face? That happened so mysteriously didn’t it Trilby.” The pilot said, talking to someone Slade could quite clearly recall.
“You woke up fast, the other guy’s still unconscious from whatever Miranda’s marine shot him full of, and you got a fist-full of Trilby.” Said the guy sitting in the corner, nearest the Pilot, tipping up his felt hat to stare at Slade, “No hard feelings.”
“Why did your parents name you after a hat?” Slade asked, his mouth opening before his memory screamed at him about what had happened last time he’d mocked that hat, but Trilby just laughed it off and Slade relaxed, “So, where are we going?”
“New Jersey.” Aiden piped up, eager to get back into the conversation.
“Why?”
“I dunno, ask AJ.” Aiden shrugged, and Slade looked at Trilby.
“He hasn’t told me either.” Trilby said, as he tapped the Pilot’s shoulder, “Hey AJ?”
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” AJ yelled, startling the rest of the ships ‘crew’, “I’ve never had to fly one of these things before, DO YOU WANT ME TO CRASH THIS?”
Trilby grunted and pulled his hat over his eyes again. Aiden suddenly broke the tension, “I know, let’s play a game. How about I spy? I Spy with my little eye something beginning with S.”
“Slade? No, wait…Space!” Slade smiled as Aiden confirmed it correct, “Ok, my turn, I spy with my little eye something begining with…” Slade was cut off as Trilby kicked off his shoe, the thick leather boot whacking Slade in the head, still tender from its earlier bruising.
“Shut up I’m getting some shut eye.” Trilby hissed, as Slade slouched back into his chair, grumbling about being treated like an infant.
I'm Sorry BabyI Can't Save Your Child, I'm To BusyBeing Delicious
033: Memories
Trilby slouched back into his seat, and wondered if he should get his boot. He started, but slunk back down from laziness, deciding to grab when they got off. Until then, he'd feign sleep. If Trilby had only one talent to his name, it was making people think he was asleep when he still could see. Eyes brought down to slits, looking closed from a distance, he began to lightly snore, furthering the illusion.
So what's happened in the last day or so? He asked himself.
I got Recon, only to be blasted 500 years into the future. I joined the marines, not by my skill, not by my determination, but my ownership of a trilby hat (I knew that would come in handy someday), and I'm now part of a group of Halo Fanon members from the year 2009 on the run from the UNSC. On Earth.
And she's dead... He thought. She, and everyone I ever knew, are all dead. God, I miss her already. I wonder if Christianity is still around, or for that matter legal, in this time period. I could really use a pastor to help me out with this one.
He paused for a moment, noticing someone reaching for his hat. He swatted it away, mumbling as if in sleep, to keep up the facade. He returned to his thoughts.
Hmm, there's some pretty advanced technology in the year 2552, right? If I can get my hands on some of that shielding technology... some wires... run an electric current through it... That's gonna be awesome when it's done. He smiled to himself as his idea finished forming, and with a focusing point for his thoughts, left his self-pity for a moment to retrieve his boot.
MasterGreen999 21:40, 13 January 2009 (UTC)
34: Docking
"Alright... here we go..."
AJ guided the UNSC shuttle into the New York Space Port's orbital station, and after docking and the airlock sealing, AJ unbuckled.
"Hey guys... we're here!"
"Yeah!" came the reply from the others.
"Alright, someone, grab that duffel bag. It has two BR55s, two M7s, and some ammo, and I think an M6C. If anyone asks, say that we're Contractors. If they press, say that we're from ONI, 'aight?"
"Yeah."
The guys in the shuttle got off, and walked to one of the space elevators, and proceeded to the bottom floor. After reaching that, they bought some food, and walked outside, and then, they searched for a vehicle.
"AJ... do you know how to hotwire a car?" said Trilby
"Yeah... but... I don't know if that'll work..."
"Every Car has a manual override, right?"
"Yeah." said AJ, remembering Contact Harvest. Spying around the parking lot, he found a black car, which was strangely unlocked.
AJ opened the door, then peered under the Driver's seat. There was a compartment, full of wires. After untangling them, then hooking two of them up, AJ heard the Car's ICE start up, and was overjoyed.
"YEAH! Let's get the fuck outta here!"
AJ put the car into "reverse", sliding his finger over a touch screen which decided what mode it was in. After reversing, he slid it into drive, and sped out of the parking lot.
"Alright, you guys in the back, grab bee arrs. You guys are our only protection. Oh, and Trilby, get on that computer, try to find something about a forerunner glyph... try Africa, glyph... archeology, anything you can think of."
With that done, AJ turned his attention to the gigantic twenty-lane highway that grew before them.
AJ, realizing that his MP3 player was in his pocket, hooked it up to the car's stereo (which for some reason accepted it), and blasted "Life is a Highway".
Dear God, if we get out of this alive, make sure that I don't face a Brute in hand to hand... -- Sgt.johnson 22:05, 13 January 2009 (UTC)
35: Harsh Reality
EARTH, SOL SYSTEM, OCTOBER, 2009 (UNKNOWN DATE)
14-year old Liam Tanner and his little brother, Matthew were happly playing their new Wii in their home in Las Vegas, Nevada, when Matthew, with a burning question, asked Liam, "What will happen if you put Halo 2 in the Wii!?" Liam responded, "I don't know; lets find out!" He ejected the game he was playing and replaced it with Halo 2. He powered on the console and started the game. Suddenly a tremendus boom resounded from the Wii and an equally bright light exploded into the room and both brothers lost consousness before they were enveloped in blinding light.
UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND COLONY EARTH, SOL SYSTEM, OCTOBER, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR)
Liam stirred and rolled over onto his back, not knowing what was going on, where he was, or what the hell he was doing here. Ha. It made him think back to that incident at Civil Air Patrol drill, where he fell, broke his jaw, and lost consiossness. Ha. Ow...laughing hurt. He struggled to get up. His joints goaned with the effort, but he was up. What the hell...He looked around, and saw he was in an ally of some sort. With...futuristic dumpsers and gadgets. How odd...then it started coming back to him. Playing Call of Duty...then Halo 2 going into the Wii...and then a explosion. Liam stumbled out of the ally and onto the street, getting odd looks from people in odd clothes. Fitting.
He walked over to a coffie shop...wait...NO STARBUCKS!!! He couldn't understand why he was here, or why he was even...wait. He pulled out his Blackberry Pearl, checked the time and the date. It said the '7 October, 2552' "WHAT THE FREAK!!!" People looked at him oddly, then went back to their buissness. 2552!? He called his mom...and found that the number no longer existed. Same with his dad. So baffled he was, he passed out.
UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND COLONY EARTH, SOL SYSTEM, OCTOBER, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR)
Liam woke up on a carpeted floor. Deciding it was comfy, he closed his eyes until, he heard loud voice talking about him. He rolled over, and saw two people talking to each other about him. He said "Hey!", and they both turned. One of them walked over, and with a slightly humorous Russian accent, said "Hello. How are you feeling? Its a good thing that I was right next to you when you fell!" Liam moaned and sat up and said "Thanks. Oh...um..Can you tell me the date and time so I can reset m Blackberry?" Both men looked at him strangly, and one broke out laughing. "Its the 17th of October, 2552. Don't you know!? I mean, everybody has a COMpad, thats updated via the sat'lights." one of the men said. "Uh..thanks. By the way, whats the city I'm in. I'm a little confused." Liam said finally. "Your in the great city of Las Vegas!" the russian accent dude said.
SPARTAN-118 (Lol...save me! :P)
036: Narutardation is a Disease
As the car ride grew longer, the trekkers grew more infuriated. Aiden found it impossible to get any sleep, and AJ and Trilby were inches from throwing punches over whether to play Metallica or Green Day on the radio, while Slade's headache grew larger from the noise. Finally, the quarreling became insufferable, and Slade asked for them to pull over at a rest stop. AJ complied, and the group stepped out into the parking lot. As Trilby walked by a fingerless glove, he put it on, seeing it came up to his elbow.
"This is perfect." He said.
"What's up with you, Trilby?" Aiden asked as they walked towards the store. "Ever time we stop, you pick up random stuff. What are gonna do with it all?"
"You'll see," he muttered, and went in to buy some food with the up-front paycheck he had gotten for his services in the Corps.
Twenty or so minutes passed, and everyone got what they needed. Three of the group met up at the front, and walked outside to see a familiar suit of armor waiting for them. A Spartan stood before them, rifle raised.
"I am Spartan-118 of the UNSC. You are all convicted felons under the view of the law. I would ask for you to come with me quietly."
The three stood there in an awkward silence, until finally someone got the courage to speak.
"Which 118?" Slade asked.
"He sounds a bit French," Aiden said. "maybe it's Trilby's."
"Trilby's?!" AJ asked in a rather shocked manner. "Allen Charlemagne has almost nothing in his article! How does he even exist?"
"Well, maybe this universe takes into account everything a character's done, not just what's stated in their article."
As the group quarreled, the Spartan sighed.
"Listen, they said bring you in 'dead or alive', and personally you don't seem worth the trouble. So, I'm bringing you dead." The Spartan raised his rifle, and put his finger on the trigger lightly, savoring the moment. Suddenly, he stopped as a strange chirping sound sprung into existence.
"Hey Allen!" A voice called from above. The group and Allen looked up to see Trilby on the station's roof, still wearing the glove, now holding an electric bolt of some sort in it. "Why don't you try taking me down?"
"Oh God," Slade said. "Please tell me that's not a--"
"CHIDORI!" Trilby shouted as he sprang from the roof. He quickly fell the ten feet to the ground, crashing in the Spartan hand-first. The electrical bolt spread through the armor, leaving the super-soldier smoking in the ground.
"That was awesome!" Trilby exclaimed. But when he turned to his companions, all he got were disturbed stares.
"Yeah, I'm a Narutard. So what?"
Still stares.
"Come on, it looks awesome AND overloads shielding! That's pretty cool, you have to admit."
Finally, AJ sighed. "Yeah, I guess it has its uses... but we're listening to Metallica now."
MasterGreen999 21:39, 14 January 2009 (UTC)
037: Enough Space
“I’m just saying Luffy could take Naruto any day.” Slade said, as Aidens elbow mercilessly jabbed him, as the car-full of now wanted criminals trudged onwards. Slade was squished between Aiden and the other person who'd been taken prisoner, who'd revealed his name had been Josh, and Slade wondered why they hadn't taken several cars.
“Then why don’t you go build yourself some stretchy rubber gloves, see how far you get slapping a Spartan with those.” Trilby retorted.
“Guts could take him, so could either of the Elrics without much effort either.”
“Quiet down, this is the good bit.” AJ said, turning up the music.
“If I quiet down I’ll end hearing that garbage.” Slade grumbled still trying to shift himself comfortably between the other two in the back seats.
“See more people want to listen to Green Day.”
“They suck too!” Slade yelled, wishing he could’ve gotten his Ipod off In Amber Clad before they’d left.
“That’s it, you’ve insulted my hat, Naruto and now Green Day, I demand compensation!” Trilby said, leaning over the back of the car, to slap Slade with his glove. Josh laughed, but an awkward silence followed, as the reality of what’d happened at the gas station set in.
"Are we fugitives?" Slade asked breaking the silence, AJ turned down the music and glanced over, "I mean, you've broken out two UNSC Prisoners and have abandoned your own posts, no wonder you guys are considered UNSC traitors...Can we hide from the UNSC and the Covenant?"
The car was silent, the excitement and optimism that had filled the car before dwindled, "We'll be fine." AJ said reassuringly, "Sergeant Johnson trusts and respects me, seeing the knowledge I've given him, by the time the Covenant attack we'll be the most popular people in the UNSC, war heroes they might call us."
"Have you been planning something?" Trilby asked, and AJ answered with a grin.
"Can you tell us?" Aiden chirped in.
"Not yet, it isn't 100% solid yet," AJ said, his sentence broken by groans from the others in the car, "we just need to find this guy, Kamal, he might know something." The car fell silent again and AJ turned the music back up.
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038: Who said America changed!?
Liam walked trought the street, muttering uselessly. He was in the crummist city in the world, and, juding by the UNSC Marine and Navy recritment posters, in the Halo Universe. His Blackberry, amazingly, still had internet, so he was hooked up to both #halo and #halopedia on IRC. He wished he had a Kimber, so all these...weridos his age would stop sniggering at his clothes. So a green polo shirt looked bad in 2009. It couldn't be that much worse here in 2552...
Liam walked down Freemont Street, headed towards the UNSC Recruitment centre near Las Vegas Bulevard. Where all those casinos used to be, a couple huge apartment buildings and huge shopping center were now placed there. So he walked down Freemont street, formulating a plan to join the UNSC. Liam was a particularly tall 14-Year old. Besides, the UNSC wouldn't care. They were down to the wire on this war. The UNSC could still lose, even thought they won't. So, walking down the street, still thinking his money will work, he tried to buy a Burger, The vendor gave him a nasty look "Gets off my lot, you idiot. Do I looks like Iz born yesterday!?" Liam left in a hurry, for, the guy might have a M6 on him. He stopped at a bank and exchanged all of his USD money (80 USD being worth nearly 400 cR, for they were antiques) for UNSC Credits. He then kept walking and finally stopped at the UNSC Recritment center.
He walked trough the open door and the man at the desk, a PFC, who was snoring loudly, suddenly woke up. "Oh...Uh..Hi. Welcome to the UNSC recritment center. Would you like to Enlist?" the PFC said quickly. Liam responded "Yeah... I'm 18." The PFC looked him up and down. "Your not 18" the PFC concluded. "I'm wearing a polo shirts, for hevens sake!" Liam persisted. The PFC just seemed to notice that. "Oh...you pass all your tests. All I need you to do is sign here, here and here." Liam signed here, there, and the other there. "And welcome to the UNSC Marine Corps. And you have been assigned to...UNSC Atlantis." the PFC concluded. "Wow! That was fast! Maybe Halo DOES have better.." Liam never finished the sentence, as the PFC heard the 'Halo' comment, and, following the order Commander Marinda Keyes ordered, shot him with a TTR bullet, and before Liam hit the ground, was having a nice, happy dream. SPARTAN-118
039: Late Entry
Judith yawned and stretched her arms, sitting on her bed. Still in her street attire, smelly and feeling dirty, she stood up and bent forward and backward: the routine exercise she always perform whenever she got out of bed. Her feet felt softer, softer than the floor she normally walks on. Her vision was still blurry, morning is still clouding her sight.
She looked down and shocked to found out that she's on a grass field. Worse, she was in some bad-conditioned park. Judith wrapped her arms around her, feeling cold and shivering all of a sudden.
What for? her mind ask her. She's still in her street attire and shoes on. The only difference was that she's in a different setting. How she got there, she tried reasoning using deduction and induction. None gave her the perfect explanation.
"Oook.." she whispered to herself as she lifted one leg and creep towards the walkway. She packed her begs and quickly made her way towards a nearby bench. The park was in a terrible state; the trees were half-dead, benches and light posts were rusty and the community board was vandalised with scribblings.
She wrestled through her bag and checked for her belongings. All present. "How in the world did I got here?" she asked herself once more. Judith repacked her bag and strolled on the walkway, searching for a recognisable landmark.
A buzzing noise slowly passed over her head. Judith turned and awed. It was a drone of some sort, flying away towards the other side of the park. Suddenly, something caught her sight.
It was the tall cylindrical tower from her dreams. It hit her. "Wait a minute... I can't be in some Halo realm!" she screamed as the discovery hit her brain. She quickly search for a nearby phone booth and went through the map.
"Thank god! I'm still in London." Judith became relieved as she sat on the ground, laughing. It was a new journey for her, a new adventure.
5ub7ank(7alk) 20:36, 15 January 2009 (UTC)
40
"Alright, we're almost to New Joysey" said AJ, staring at the gas meter.
Shit... it's almost on empty... weren't they working on cars that ran on air?
"Hey, Trilby, grab that Owner's manual. Does it say that this thing can run on water?"
Trilby did so, and after checking, told AJ that they could.
"Sweet."
Driving off an interstate exit that overlooked a River, AJ parked the car on the bank, and after gathering multiple jugs and bottles, poured the water into the tank.
After watching how the thing worked, they drove off, and made it over the border. But, AJ remembered one thing.
Shit... where in New Jersey does Kamal live? -- SPARTAN-002[The Hero] [The Team] [A New Chronicle] 22:35, 18 January 2009 (UTC)
041: The Return is all I want
Aiden stared down at his phone, although he had only had it six months now it was around 500 years old. He constantly kept looking at it for one reason. On it was a picture of his girlfriend who he loved dear. Her deep sea green eyes stared back at him and her smile warmed his cold heart. If he was to get back to her he had to stick with these guys. Although he had never met them before he felt like this was almost a family
"Come on just one track!" Trilby begged
"In a minute Ok this albums nearly finished," AJ replied
"Man shut up and let me get some sleep!!!!" Slade complained
Yeah this was a family alright and they were completely disfunctional.
42: The Beginning of the End
Liam awoke on a hard floor. Again!?, he thought. He pulled out his Blackberry, which, (by some miracle), was still on his holster on his belt. He checked the date, which was the 19th (only a day until the Covenant attacked!) and then checked IRC, but only got unlinky (which was really pointless, as Halopedia didn't even exist now!). He pulled himself up, only to have a tough marine walk into the room, whack him on the head, and drag him down a corridor into a interrogation room where two people sat.
"Nice of you to finally wake up," one of the people said. "I am Colonel James Ackerson, UNSC. And this is Commander Marinda Keyes. We hear you know classified info. A kind Private arrested you for saying a and informed us. Will you say anything before we drug you into telling us everything you know?" Liam sat up. "Colonel Ackerson? I thought...oh. How are the SPARTAN-III's doing?" Ackerson paused and then said, with much menace on his face, "Where the HELL did you hear that?"
Liam paled. “Uh…well…” Ackerson just sighed. “Sometimes, I really hate this job.” And with that, he plunged the needle into Liam’s arm.
Ackerson walked out of the room after Liam wasd dragged back to his cell sedated. "Ma'am, the prisoner says that, he came from the year 2009, which I said was rediculous. But, he said the same when given the Hyoscine-pentothal. So, I don't know. He also said under Hyoscine-pentothal, that the Covenant are going to attack." Ackerson concluded. Comman Keyes seemed satisfied. "What about Halo? Did he say anything?" she asked. "Yes. He said..." Ackerson consulted his notes. "He said he knows all this because of a video game under a same name, where the UNSC Pillar of Autum crashed on the ring world of Halo. And, supposdly, the main characters are...your father, the Master Chief and a Sargent Johnson. And there is a sequal...starting on...woah. Tomarrow. The Covenant attach earth, and..." "That enough, Colonel! Its all a plot for something. Get ready to redrug him when he awakes." SPARTAN-118 20:00, 19 January 2009 (UTC) (Never knew I could be so mean to myself...)
43: Oh Lawds
They had reached New Jersey's "capital" by nightfall, and they spent the night in a motel.
During the night, AJ got up, walked outside, and started to hit on a female soccer player that he had met earlier.
After talking, and learning her name, he said good bye, then went to sleep.
While sleeping, he finally realized the girl's last name.
Lewis.
Oh lawds... please don't let her be related to me! -- SPARTAN-002[The Hero] [The Team] [A New Chronicle] 01:48, 21 January 2009 (UTC)
44:Prison Break
Liam prepared to act. He had managed to act asleep for the last 2 hours and knew that his Marine captors knew he was awake and were awaiting a oppertunity to get him.
He only had to lie on the padded floor for a few minutes until the door open, and with that, Liam spun around and pulled his Blackberry out of his holister like a gun. Blackberrys looked uncannly like guns, for me bizzare reason. He hoped his bluff worked, but chances were... screw the chances! He had to get off the Ciaro before the Covies came.
The Marine gasped, and Liam said, with more iron then he thought he had, "Put the gun down and put your hands on your head! Now!" The Marine dropped the Pistol and put his hands on his head. Liam rushed over, grabbed the gun and shot the gaurd with a TTR bullet.
He rushed out of the room and shot two more gaurds with who tried to get him. He rushed down the hallway, into the armory. He grabbed an M7, grabbed tons of mags (a mix of FMJ and TTR) and shoved them into a pocket in the backpack. He also put another M7 and a few boxes of TTR ammo in a pocket. Then he saw it.
A BR55. His favorite weapon. He grabbed it, scooped up tons of mags, and shoved it into another pocket. He also shoved in the Pistol, some ammo (both real and TTR), and put the backpack on. Boy, this WOULD get interesting. There was no way he could get off the Ciaro on a ship... Or maybe he could... He took off toward the ODST pods. When he FINALLY got there, ('Finally' meaning dozens of ambushes by trained Marines with TTR, with whom he had gone all n00b and opened up with the M7 full auto everywhere) he got into a HEV, strapped in, and pressed the Big Red Button (BRB) which dropped the Drop pod free of the Gryo-cycronous orbiting station at a huge speed. Liam lost it, screamed, then lost consioussness. SPARTAN-118 00:00, 23 January 2009 (UTC)
45: Did It Have To Happen Now?
Jared Toso sat at his computer, wide shoulders slumped in the comfortable computer-sufing posture he took so much flak for. With his iPod headphones in one ear, he listened with the other to the click of the keys as he accessed his Gmail account. Nothing new. Again. You're not exactly popular, he reminded himself. You have way too much fun being mean to be popular. Not that it matters much anyway... You're leaving this year. Laughing grimly, he navigated away from the screen and onto his secondary account. Maybe the private address would have something. Aha! There was one in... from one of his best friends, too. Nice.
The growl of the mailman's government-issued post-office truck emanated from the boring dead-end street, and Jared got up from his computer to go and check his box for anything interesting. Outside, it was very cold, which was surprising in Georgia. As he rifled through the various bills and catalogs his family got, he found an official government envelope. It was postmarked from Maryland, and had the Naval Academy's seal prominantly located in the corner. Oh, boy, he thought... here it is. As he opened the paper, he began to feel strange, like the feeling of soreness you got after working out with a new routine. Too many squats, he mumbled to himself as he pulled the letter free.
Jared Toso, it began. The United States Naval Academy, Department of Admissions, would like to inform you that you have been extended an appointment... "Yes!" Jared shouted, dancing around the concrete driveway and waving the letter over his head. "Wooohooo!" As he piroutted, distinctly un-Marine-like, his big toe dragged across a loose piece of gravel, and he tripped, falling into his front lawn. Everything went black as he wondered how such a simple fall could possibly have knocked him out.
The black faded into gray, and then burned into white. Soft shapes resolved around the corners of his vision, and he finally began to make out the face of a worried person. A worried girl, he corrected himself. He was still laying on grass, but the scenery was completely different. Trees had grown everywhere, and steel clouds sat unhappily in the sky. It was still cold, but there were tiny flakes of snow falling down among the brown leaves and skeletal branches.
"Are you okay?" the girl inquired, puzzled. She sounded a little scared, like she was not supposed to be here.
"Um, yeah. I guess," Toso replied, looking around for the envelope and letter he had dropped. They weren't there. "Oh, damn it!" he yelled loudly, "Why did this have to happen now?!" Suddenly he was aware of how ridiculous he must have seemed, a military-looking eighteen-year-old crawling around on his hands and knees in pajama pants with polar bears on them, swearing.
"Where am I, by the way?" he asked, getting to his feet and wiping the dirt off of his rear end. The girl was completely freaked out, her dark, delicate eyebrows looking as if they were going to jump off of her forehead. Green eyes wide with astonishment, she said quietly that he was in the Vine-Tree National Park.
"Where's that? I have no earthly idea what I'm doing here!"
"Uh, the Atlanta-Hartsfield district... um, who are you? Are you sure you're okay?" She was very, very, hopelessly confused, standing hands on her hips, head cocked to the side.
"Oh, right. I'm... uh, Jared. Who are you and what am I doing here? And what have you done with my house?!"
"I'm Reiko... And you tell me what you're doing here! I just found you, that's all! And if you think you live here, you're crazy! This place has been a park for fifty years!"
Jared was taken aback by that statement. "What year is it?" he asked, dreading the answer.
"2552. Why? Don't you know?" Reiko looked at him like the answer should have been obvious.
"I'm from 2009! I used to live here! Oh, no! What happened to everyone?! I'm never going to see them again!"
Grabbing his arm, Reiko pulled him in the general direction of what looked like a clearing, telling him that she'd get him to a doctor.
SPARTAN-091[Admin]
[Talk] 20:37, 23 January 2009 (UTC)
046: Remembrance
Trilby continued to search the corridors in a frantic pace. He could hear her screaming in the distance, and knew time was short. Every room had been a dead-end. Now only an ominous black portal at the end of the winding hallway stood between the two. But Trilby began to fear it was too late. Her screaming grew more fevered with every passing instant, and he knew she wasn't going to make it unless he got inside now. He attempted to open the door, but it would not budge.
Locked he thought. He attempted to activate his Chidori gauntlet to open the door, hoping it was electric like the others had been. No dice, it was out of energy, or did not refuse to start. Becoming desperate, he reached for his handgun to shoot the lock off. But all that rested there was a key.
"Joder llave!" He screamed, throwing the key away. Now at his wit's end, he charged toward the door, hoping he could ram it hard enough to knock it down. But as he crashed into it, nothing. He tried again, but the door would not budge. Again and again, he threw himself at the barrier, but to no avail. With each passing moment, the screams grew louder, and as Trilby hurled himself one more time, they stopped.
He stood in shock for a moment, and collapsed to the floor, sobbing.
...
Trilby lurched from bed in a cold sweat. He was in a motel room, and an open window sent a chilling air through the room. Without thinking, he threw on a shirt and stepped out the window. Grabbing a car in the lot, he began to drive. He needed some time alone to think.
MasterGreen999 14:20, 24 January 2009 (UTC)
047: I just want to go home
Aiden was woken by the sound of squealing tires but it made no difference. Aiden didn't want to sleep, all he wanted was to go home. The wind gently blew against his skin as he opened the door. His eyelids where heavy and he must of looked like shit. His thoughts moved to the guy they were looking for, Kamal. He had heard of his name in the I Love Bees storyline. He just hoped they could find him in time, otherwise this could end very badly.
Just then AJ came out of his room breathing heavily and looking extremely worried.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked
"I think I hit on a relation of mine," he replied almost disgusted
Ouch. Tough break.
1st Lieutenant Aiden Smith 01:35, 25 January 2009 (UTC)
048: WE'RE GOING TO COLLEGE!
The next day, AJ awoke, and decided to do a little research on the hotel provided chatter.
After searching, he finally figured it out.
Kamal's at Berkeley... but not the California one...
"Guys, we're going to college!"
"What?" said the group, in unison."
"Kamal has to be at some prestigious college, and after figuring out some stuff, I think I've found it."
"What college?"
"Berkeley."
"Wait, isn't that in California?" said Aiden.
"Not this one. Get dressed, we're going to act like college students."
"Alright."
They did so, piled into their stolen car, and drove to the college. -- SPARTAN-002[The Hero] [The Team] [A New Chronicle] 23:39, 25 January 2009 (UTC
49: Seeing the world, AND getting the T-shirt. All the while pissing off everyone you meet
OCTOBER 19TH, 2552 / UNKNOWN LOCATION, EARTH / INSIDE ODST DROP POD Liam, once again, woke up on something uncomfortable. He turned on the helmet lamp (as he nicked a Combat Uniform and a helmet from Armory on the Cairo) and looked around. He was lying on his back on a squishy, but none too comfy seat.
He groaned, and sat up. He whacked his head on the top of the ODST pod hatch. Oh yeah... he thought a few seconds too late. He groaned, and reached up to the orange and white hatch cover lever, and pulled it down.
The hatch cover blew off, flipping humorously through the air. Liam pulled himself out, and lowered himself to the ground. The drop pod landed on the sidewalk, on top of a couple muscle cars. "Oh Shit... Liam though as he looked around and found a gang of teenagers crowed around the him and drop pod, with baseball bats and knives. Liam paled, and unsafed the M7. One gangster stepped forward and said, "Hey homie, you destroyed ma' expensive car, so we are going to kill you!!!" The gangsters rushed forward, swinging their weapons, so Liam did the most logical thing. He opened up with his M7 and started mowing gangsters down with unrelenting waves of TTR ammunition. He was glad he had a extended magazine in, as he would have been screwed otherwise.
After a good 20 seconds of firing, the entire group of gangbangers were down hard. Liam reloaded, and walked towards the nearest store. In his UNSC combat uniform and his still-drawn M7, everyone got out of his way. The walked up to the shop keeper and said, "Where am I?" The shopkeeper, freaked out by the show of force in the street, responded quickly, "Cairo, Egypt." Liam nodded and left. He holisted the M7 and walked down the street, towards a UNSC military base.
Liam finished filling out the paperwork. "And here is the starting chip for her." the UNSC Sergent said with a hint of amusement. He couln't help but laugh at Liam's height. "Thank you, Sergent." Liam walked out to the Warthog, and got in. He started the engine and was about to drive away, out of the UNSC military base when the Sergent called to him. "Private! I want you to take Private Smith with you too!" Liam responded with a crisp, "Yes, Sargent!" Liam waited until the Private got in the Warthog. "It works like this: I drive, you ride shotgun. Got it?" The private, wearing his combat suit, responed "Fine. I can hardly drive anyway." SPARTAN-118 23:55, 28 January 2009 (UTC)
50: Uptown Girl, Living in a Uptown World.
"Hey."
Beth spoke into the mic, and gripped her control, her laptop on the bed beside her, and a can of Coke on the table in front of her, and she slowly looked through who was playing with her on her team. She knew one of them, and that was her friend, but soon she heard a member on the other team say "Shouldn't you be making me a Sandwhich?"
"Shouldn't you be out your Parents Basement?"
Before the Man could answer, the screen flickered, and suddenly turned off, and she grabbed her teddy bear, and hugged it tightly, as the the house plunged into darkness.
Beth opened her eyes, and blinked once, then twice, and sat upright. Was that a...Warthog? That couldn't be.. surely not. Beth noted she was in a dark alley, and that her teddy was there. She squezzed it for hope, and got up. She walked out into the street, and muttered. Beth tapped a guy on the shoulder and asked "what's the date... and the year, actually?" The man looked at her, and backed away, before pulling out a device, and pressed a Few buttons.
Beth didn't wait to see what he was doing, so she ran. Ran around corners, but soon she stopped.
She had no Idea where she was. Love is Noise Love is PainLove is these blues 21:30, 15 February 2009 (UTC)
51:Just when you think it can't get a whole lot worse
Driving down the highway toward New Mombossa at 110 MPH(854 miles to go!), chatting on the IRC on his Blackberry, Liam was almost...happy. Then he got a unwanted message from a 'ONIrecon111' on it. Liam swore and skidded to a stop in the middle of the highway. "GOD DAMMIT!" he swore loudly.
He then did a U-bie and started out towards that small UNSC base he passed a couple of miles back. Private Smith was snoring loudly and snuggling his M7 like a teddy bear...still. God, what did the people in this time do as fun? He was busy pondering this when he relized he was about to miss his exit. He swerved wildly, barly making the turn, all the while terrorizing more then a few commutors driving to work. He made for the front gate of the UNSC military base. By some miricle, nobody was guarding it, so he tore through it at top speed. He drove towards the flightline, and stopped behind a Pelican.
He shook Smith awake. "Huh? What happened? Where are we? What happened?" he said bewildered. "All will be explained in time. Can you fly this? No? Okay, then I guess we are screwed" Liam stated matter-of-factly. He climbed in and told the private to take the copilots seat. He took out the manuel and found the button to engage the magnet to hold the Warthog.
The Warthog was firmly attached to the Pelican by the time a Marine came over to see what was happening, only to have the Pelican take off in his face. The Marine sprinted to the control tower and attempted to hail the ship, only to be rejected by UNSC Code 392, the official non-responce code due to a higher priority mission. The Marine sighed, and went back to sleep.
On board the Pelican, things were happy. Flying towards America at a brisk 650 MPH on autopilot, Liam was trying to find the peanuts while Private Smith tried to figure out what the hell a 'blackberry' is ("But its white! Its not black!"). 
Rainbow Dash (Talk) • (Contribs) Happy post for once! XD
52: The, not so, long road ahead
It wouldn't take long to get to the college, that was what AJ had told the group however even though it was the future one thing still stood in there way, traffic. Aiden sighed and thought back to the M25 back home. Not much different to how it was back then. His eye lids where heavy and his hair felt greasy. The college was not that far but Aiden worried that it was getting to close to the First Battle of Earth, his gut told him they where in for a fight.
"Come on what is the freaking hold up?" he heard drives exclaim
Soon they'll all be shouting for something else
A Savior
1st Lieutenant Aiden Smith 01:17, 17 February 2009 (UTC)
53: Prettier in Person
"Hey, you. Wake up." A voice said with sincerity but authority.
Joshua rolled to once side and opened his eyes.
"Hello," he said and then rubbed his eyes.
"I'm ordered to take you to Wales," the young marine said. "I'll let you go there. BUT! The Marines will still consider you a hostile. So keep your heaed down." The marine smiled.
Josh returned the smile. "Thanks, but I need a new top." The one he had on, stank of TTR.
"Here, now lets go." The Marine said after throwing him a new top, similar to his old one.
1 Hour later.
Joshua was running through the streets of Cardiff, the Marines hot on his tail. He looked round for a split second and crashed into someone.
"Oi! Watch it!" the female voice said.
"Beth? Your prettier in person." Josh joked. He helped her up. He heard the marines. He needed a reason not to be noticed. He moved Beth closer to him and kissed her. She was tring pull away, but Josh held her tighter. When they passed he stopped. Beth slapped him.
"Sorry. Had to be done," he said with little sympathy. "Won't happened again. Anyway, we gotta move I heard there is more of us out there. So we better get moving." He finished with a smile.
SPARTAN-G024 19:23, 18 February 2009 (UTC)
54: Slaps, Guns and Beth.
Beth figured she couldn't be the only one when she saw she was in the Halo Universe, and she figured this guy infront of Him was a Halo Fanon member. However, she was rather pissed off that he'd kissed her.
"Well, We're do you suggest we go? I haven't had any idea where I am."
Beth sighed, and shook her hand slightly. It hurt like Hell when She slapped him, and She knew that he was in trouble.
Beth started to walk, and stopped very quickly.
"Other Way?"
On the end of the Street was UNSC Soliders, armed with Guns, most likely M6Cs,and turned to look at the man.
"Run?"
"Yeah."
Beth started to run, arms pumping, and swore she heard the Marines yell "Open Fire!" She Shoved a Guy aside and Kept running. She didn't know when to stop, she Just kept running. She slipped down a side street, and the man was following her, and as she looked behind, she ran straight into a Garbage bin.
"OH come on!"
Love is Noise Love is PainLove is these blues 19:20, 18 February 2009 (UTC)
55: Unconventional Human Late Entry Vehicle.
Scott plopped down in the tall grass around his family pond, swearing with far more fluency than a fourteen year old should have been able to. He didn’t land on his stomach, but spun halfway as he fell, so that his backpack hit the hard brown dirt. He was hopelessly tired—he’d been fighting for half an hour with his pack loaded for 2 days, 30 pounds easy. It’d been for fun, to see what it was like fighting with a pack, but it wasn’t as much fun anymore. In his pocket, the three 300 rd metal mags and the 30 rd mag stabbed into his thigh, but he tried to ignore them. He crawled toward the mound of dirt, just above the pond, and swore some more.
“Who’s idea was it for to be me against three of them?” he berated himself out loud “Shit, I’m not getting rushed.”
He popped up, and fired a short burst, aiming carefully with the red dot sight. One shot hit one of his assailants, hiding behind a tree, in the leg, and fire momentarily stopped from that target. He checked his A&K 5,000 round box mag. Still good.
He popped up and fired again, this time batting the scope against his leg. It was heavy—but not as heavy as the gun, a X733 M4 Carbine. Normally six pounds—now thirteen, with all the attachment shit he had on it. He cursed himself for loading those extra 2,000 rounds, then popped down into cover. He wasn’t even bothering to carry extra ammo—extra airsoft BBs.
But as Scott heard yelling associated with a charge, he felt a strange pressure in his forehead and light began to fill his vision. He blinked, trying to clear it, thinking maybe he had another migraine going on, when he found he could no longer see, and then, with a flash disappeared. His friends ran to his position and sprayed it with BBs, but with no target, and wondering where he was, they set out to search for him.
Scott awoke in darkness, feeling pain lancing through his head. He snuffled, not quite over a cold, and sat up. He heard people talking around him, and wondered what had happened to the pond—when he realized he was in someone’s house.
“The power went out, again?” asked one person in the darkness, a man
“Yes dear, its probably some test.” Said another, a woman
Scott had no idea what was going on, but decided that wherever he was, and however he’d gotten there, was less important than getting out of the house. Breaking and entering was a crime pretty much everywhere, he mused.
But as he stood, his extra magazines, scope, cell phone, and Chewy bar snack rattled around in his pockets, along with practically everything in his hiking pack. He wished he’d gotten an external frame. He heard the people in the room turn to face him—when the lights snapped on. They screamed—a kid in camouflage with a realistic looking weapon, wearing a backpack as big as he was in their midst apparently wasn’t average. Scott screamed back and ran for their door, finding the whole house strange. From the bookcases that had small plastic manuals to the holographic picture frames, it was downright odd. He reached the door and pried it open, emerging into the dark night air, and wondered where the hell he was.
Scott jogged down the street, and glanced at a sign. 127 Ave Kent WA it said. That was his street. He looked around; his house was no where in sight, and nor was James’, Aarons, Kyle’s, or Connie’s. Even the pond was missing. It had all been replaced by sprawling metropolis with a few houses, no landmarks as to where anything had been. What the hell? Was it a different street, with the same name? He was so confused. Normally proud of his mind and how it could reason things out, he know found himself without a clue of what was going on.
He eyed the metropolis, now gleaming with lights. None of the buildings looked like modern construction—they either looked old and unmaintained, or they looked new, made of strange plastic like materials. Everything was paved, with the exception of a rare hanging garden or cash machine. It looked like something out of Halo Wars or Halo 2—but that couldn’t be.
He saw an couple walking down the street, and decided to figure out what was happening. He jogged up to them, and saw they wore strange, smooth skin tight clothing. Memory struck him—they looked like some of the stuff Anders wore in Halo Wars. He shook off the memory. That wasn’t real—he had to concentrate on figuring out where he was, so he could go home.
As he got close, rifle jamming into his back in the sling, the guy laughed.
“Nice clothes man,” he said “Just get back from Redwood? Gone hunting? Gone Hiking!”
Scott didn’t get the reference, though he wondered about California. He spoke, voice quavering.
“If I may, where am I?” he asked, trying to sound formal
The man laughed again, and his girlfriend joined him.
“Your in Kent, man. Nice—whoa.”
Scott had been turning in half circles, hand on his head, and the man saw the rifle and froze. Maybe he thought it was real—it was dark, and it was made to look good. But he seemed preoccupied more than an average citizen should with some kid carrying a rifle—like he was trying to spot a model number or type of weapon. Scott ignored the man and turned to the woman.
“What’s the date?” he asked. Things were getting too weird.
“October 17.” She said “Year?” “2552.”
“Holy shit.” Scott whispered, “I gotta go.”
He ran, considering the consequences of what had just been said. If this was 2552, and the Haloverse, then he might be in danger—there was always danger in Halo. His only weapon was a pellet gun. He found an alley and sat in it, wishing he had heavier clothing, and tried to go to sleep, hoping in the morning that things would be clearer. As he tried to sleep though, his brain was on overdrive trying to remember dates. Think. He told himself. When did the Covenant invade Earth?
August 30th. No wait, that was reach. September 22nd? No, that was when John landed on Halo. Nov. 3rd? Uh-uh, that was when Blue Team headed for Onyx. October 20th—oh shit, it was October 20th.
Scott now realized what kind of trouble he was in. He had three days to prepare for a Covenant invasion. They only hit New Mombassa, didn’t they? No, wait, the battle continued for a long time. Goddammit Bungie, he thought, why couldn’t you publish more back-story for the first battle of Earth. It would be a lot of help right now.
With that thought, cursing Bungie Studios, he slipped slowly into a light sleep, a sleep filled with nightmares about aliens, about destruction, and about death. All things he wondered if he would face in the days ahead.
//Your screams blacken my soul// //I am shadow, I am death// //I am alone in the dark, but not afraid//
56: Gettin on the Grid
AJ and the group showed up at the University, and over the school's intercom, they called for Kamal Zaman.
"Well then, let's head up there and cut him off!"
The group headed out, constantly looking for anyone who could be Kamal, and they found him.
Dark skinned, and in a lab coat, Kamal walked up to the door of the office, and AJ slammed it shut.
Kamal looked at AJ in surprise, then his vision went black as Trilby whacked him over the head with the buttstock of a BR55.
About an hour later, Kamal awoke, strapped to a chair in a hotel room.
"What is going on here?"
"Kamal Zaman, we need you to get us on the grid."
"I don't do that anymore... after the incident..."
"With Thin Kinkle's gang, we know. But, we have crucial information. Covie's are coming tomorrow."
"And how would you know that?"
"Don't ask. Just get us on the grid."
"Untie me, and I will."
Four hours later, the group had fake identities, and proceeded to get themselves some food. -- SPARTAN-002[The Hero] [The Team] [A New Chronicle] 00:41, 4 March 2009 (UTC)
57: Who wants to be a 2552 Millionaire?
Scott awoke from a fretful sleep to a blazing light, eyes hurting. He stood up in the alley, yawned, and winced—wishing he had used the pad in the back of his hiking backpack. Or the tent. Or the sleeping bag. Or some of the extra clothing.
He’d had it packed for his second trip to lake Mildred, a grueling three night hike that had taken eight and a half hours to get up last time and five a half to get down, but he didn’t think he was going anytime soon now. He stretched again, and made sure he didn’t forget his X733 Airsoft Rifle. It wouldn’t help in something real—but it might make him look more legitimate. For all he’d written about Halo, he didn’t really know much about civilian life there.
He took off down the city streets, trying to fit in among the flow of people, which was hard. A kid with a gun and a century old backpack in weird looking clothing was hard not to notice, and he was soon stopped by a pair of patrolling MPs. He glanced at their insignia, but didn’t remember the unit.
“What are you doing with that son?” asked one MP, holding her MA5B loosely in Scott’s direction. The other MP held a BR55, looking vaguely uncomfortable with it. Both had M6C pistols.
Scott held up the X733 “This?”
“Ya kid, what are you doing with a goddamn rifle?” asked Mr. BR55. Ms. MA5B gave him a nasty look.
“Its not real.” Said Scott sheepishly. He thought about lying—but those guns were rather intimidating. He had no formal training in combat, and didn’t really know how to fight.
Scott removed the box mag, which clattered, and showed her the magazine. She eyed it for a second, then gave it back to her.
“It’s clean.” She pronounced. “Move along, on your way.”
Scott did, as quickly as possible. He had a little bit of a hard time taking this seriously, but his shoulders were aching from the pack, so he figured it was no dream. And he thought that talking about the Halo games might make people think he was crazy. Or a security link, thinking back to Halo, and how paranoid ONI was in the books. Thank you, Dr. Halsey, he whispered silently.
Scott was still walking away when he realized he didn’t know where to go. He turned on his phone, wondering idly if he had service, and saw that he didn’t. He saw someone else pull out something similar looking and talk with it, and some random nerve impulse in his brain connected and he remembered the “Did you know?” page on Halopedia.
“The Chatter,” he recited quietly from memory, “Is the 26th century equivalent of a mobile phone.”
He needed to get one, he needed to have some form of communication, but he didn’t have any money. He realized his still had his Blackjack on him, and decided he should try and trade it in. Maybe they’d let him. He was wondering where to go, so he tugged at the shirtsleeve of a friendly looking woman as she passed. She turned to him, smiling—a rote gesture, he was pretty sure—and asked him what he needed.
“I’m new here.” He said “Any idea where I could find a—”
She cut him off. “New here?” she asked suspiciously, “Where you from then?”
When, he thought silently, when.
“Uh…” he started. He said the first thing to his head “Reach, actually.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Nothing but military types on Reach, kid.” She said
“My dad was Navy.” He countered, then, he let a hint of sadness drip into his voice. “He didn’t make it.”
Her features softened, although the smile vanished. She had a strange look in her eye, but at least now he could ask his question.
“I was wondering,” he said finally “Where I could find a place that sells a Chatter, or that could trade in a really old one.”
She thought for a moment, then answered. “There’s a chatter store on the next corner, but they don’t trade in, not since the Exit scam back in the 20s. But there is a place where you could get a chatter and trade in your own phone—rich guy who collects antique phones and sells em to collectors. Have to be really old though—how old is yours?”
Scott winced. “It’s a family collectible,” he said. “Um, five hundred years?”
She gasped. “Definitely.” She smiled. “Its on James hill, at the Station. You know where?”
“Kent station?” Scott asked
“Yah.” She said, by the main building.
Scott thanked her and took off. He knew exactly where James Hill was. He’d gone sledding down it once when he was little—and he’d biked and seen a movie at Kent Station’s AMC just last week. He smiled, finally having a sort of plan. And as he hiked, drawing odd looks, he tried to figure out what had sent him into the future so far—and remember all he could about the Second Battle of Earth. It never hurt to be prepared.
Scott found the shop and entered, gazing at the high tech marvels. The new phones were sleek and compact, and he could see visibly as the years went by and the phones got older. Most were in relatively bad shape, and he saw only one phone from his era. It was labeled as some kind of Blackberry—and had the date 2030. It was marked for 7 MILLION cR. Scott whistled. His was 20 years younger—and in way better shape. He wondered what kind of price he could get.
As he admired the fancy machines, the worker came out. He reminded Scott of the guy who sold the comic books in the Simpsons—round and hairy. But whatever. If he could pay Scott a lot of money for something cheap—then he was awesome.
“What do you want?” oozed the shop keeper
Scott beat down a sense of revulsion and spoke. “I’ve a, um, got a phone from the 21st century. I was wondering if you’d like to buy it off me.”
The man’s eyes suddenly got a fire in them, and he asked with fervor: “What kind of phone? What kind of condition is it in? What year was it made?”
Scott smiled. This was going pretty well. “It’s a Samsung Blackjack from 2008, almost mint condition. I’d like—” he glanced at the 2030 phone again “—9 million cR for it.”
“Did you steal it?” asked the man
“No,” said Scott. “It’s a family heirloom, for some reason. Some great great grandfather or something kept a journal on it, from when he was a kid—he lived when Obama first became president actually—and I’m short on cash since my parents died on Reach. I have to sell it.”
Scott pulled out the phone, and showed it to the man. He picked it up, examined it for twenty minutes, then countered Scotts offer. It was ridiculous—a grown man debating with a fourteen year old over a multi-million dollar phone—not even taking into account the whole future and UNSC thing. Finally, they settled for 8 million Cr. Scott smiled. Hurray. The man took the phone, handed him a chip the size of his palm with the money—discreet at Scotts discretion—and Scott bought 26th century phone in return. An all win situation.
Scott walked out of the store and went around Kent Station, buying supplies and putting them in his already overloaded pack. It had changed a lot recently—it now had banks and general stores, not just restaurants and odd shopping places. More utilitarian, by far. Scott set up a bank account—it wasn’t hard—bought food, bought an old M6A and MA3 from a military surplus store, and stored some of the belongings he didn’t want to carry around constantly, such as the two rifles—one real and one fake—in a storage space he rented out with his new huge warchest.
Scott then rented a small hotel room, and considered his options. Once there, he used the complementary terminal and searched the internet news—coming up with a large number of stories on the official UNSC news nets about a group of “URF supporters” who supposedly had stolen “highly classified military intelligence, on previous and ongoing missions”. Scott realized it was a good thing he hadn’t talked about any Halo things to the MPs—they might have confused him with one of those Innie bastards. The Covenant were coming in three, make that two days. The last enemy he needed was the UNSC.
Scott stared at the terminal, thinking. How had he gotten here? He tried to remember things about Halo Lore that related to time travel, and thought only of Halo 2’s ARG. That had to be it. It was crazy—but this whole thing was crazy anyway. He was a millionaire in the goddamn Halo universe. As he thought about this, he realized that others might have been brought here as well. His heart rate quickened, and he clicked back to the page on the so called rebels. What if those “missions” they’d had Intel on came from the Halo games and books? What if it was about the Halo incident? The flood? People just like him might be on the run. The more he thought about it, the more sure he was.
He got up and paced, paranoid. Was the ONI after him, too? He checked the lock. He checked his M6A, on a holster on his hip. He thought about every spy trick he could of. He needed a fake I.D.—yah he needed to get an alias, like an undercover agent. That should throw off ONI’s trail. Then he needed to get out of town. Find someone who could shelter him. Or better yet, the others that he was now sure were with him.
He jumped back on the nets, and looked for more articles on the supposed URF rebels. They’d last been seen heading towards New Jersey by a UNSC group who’d been attacked by them with some sort of EMP weapon. Scott realized he needed to get to New Jersey. He looked up planes, and bought a ticket on the next one to New Jersey, which left in three hours. He checked all his luggage online, and had a robotic courier transport it to the airport. He alerted the authorities to the presence of weapons, so they wouldn’t be alarmed, and gave a good excuse. Then he looked up way to make a fake ID on the web, and found a place that worked with them nearby.
He was a little bit worried about it, as stuff like that would never have been available easily on the web at home, but apparently the UNSC was a lot looser, or at least less wise. He went there, got an I.D. for Scott Harrison, linked it to the bank account he’d set up, and got a cab that fed him and drove him to the airport. He picked up some new clothes, too, though he still looked somewhat odd in them. They felt very different, and he felt weird in them. Then he waited for the flight to leave, marveled at the advancements of the airport, and waited as the plane took off.
//Your screams blacken my soul// //I am shadow, I am death// //I am alone in the dark, but not afraid//
58: No Smell Like Doom in the Morning
The group of time-traveling fugitives pulled into the parking lot of a restaurant, and slunk inside, muttering their new identities to ensure they would remember.
They sat down at a booth, and a waitress came to take their order.
"So, what can I get for you boys?"
The group placed their order, and the waitress quickly realized a slight folly. "I forgot, sorry! Who's paying the bill?"
Trilby nodded towards her. "I will. Put it under Randal Graves." As she wrote the name down, AJ spat out a glass of orange juice into Slade's face. The waitress seemed disturbed, but left them alone to prepare the food.
"Randal Graves?!" Aiden whispered towards Trilby. "You got him to name you Randal Graves?! Are you insane!?"
"Come on," Trilb-- Randal replied. "What are the odds anyone 500 years in the future has seen Clerks?"
"Well, you'd better make sure you don't get caught." AJ said, and the group returned to their silence as they waited for their meals to arrive.
MasterGreen999 22:33, 6 March 2009 (UTC)
59:Chess is no fun when you are outnumbered
Liam was sitting in the back of the Pelican, surfing the 'web while Smith took his turn flying the Pelican. Then Liam looked up 'Rebel activity on Earth', when he came across a amazingly suprising article on a Joint-taskforce that was to crack down on 'rebel activity' on Earth.
Apprently, there was a couple teams of Marines searching for the 'rebel insergents who broke free convicted rebel fighters and stole classified information'. Well, that didn't mean him, did it?
Well, while he was here, he might as well find who won the last 20 Superbowls and Rugby League chapionships. Once he found that out that information (the Pittsburg Steelers one a total of 8 more times until the Denver incident, where Islamic terrorists blew up the Superbowl stadium, along with 50,000 people, much like Tom Clancy's "The Sum of all Fears" ; all the while Rugby was still played in Australia and New Zealand. Thankfully, the New Zealand All Blacks won a total of 237 times since the last time Liam saw a game).
Liam then turned off the computer and walked back to the Cockpit, only to find Smith staring out the window at a Longsword flying in formation with them. "Come on!", he yelled loudly at Smith. "How long has he flown alongside us?" he asked in considerable suprise. "Only about 50 miles," Smith replied.
On the Longsword, the crew were joking around on what was on the Pelican. "They can't be inportant enough to have a offical-non-responce code," the pilot voiced again, only to have it shot down by the weapons Systems officer (also known as 'Taco' from the long gone cold war). "Then why would he ignore us?", the Taco said. "Fine then." the pilot finally siad, and snapped the fighter into a sharp turn.
On board the Orbital Super MAC platform Ciro, Commander Miranda Keyes was walking down the hallway towards the NCIS bay. She had found a white remote control of some sort on the prisoner and had sent it to be identifed by the Naval Crime Investigation Service. Keyes walked into the office, and was handed the report without having to say a thing. She was well known around the ship. She skimmed it, suprised by the age of the object, a so-called 'Wii Controller' for a 5-centry old video game console. The fingerprints were bizzare, as the only finger prints were on the batterys (antiqes) and the case. The prints were identifed, but were...extremly inconsistant. Apprently, the suspect who escaped using a 'phone' was not from this time period...meaning what? Keyes wondered as she left the lab. Rainbow Dash (Talk) • (Contribs)
60: Running from the Law
Scott stepped off the plain into rain, sighing. He’d rode aboard what looked like a 747 from Washington to New Jersey, but much faster. They’d hit low orbit then descended, slicing travel time in half, which astounded him. Still, it was like flying an airplane once he got past the time spent in outer space, and with no reading material, he’d used the terminal provided on the plane to access the nets and try and figure out how to fit in.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t an article entitled “How to survive in the 26th century”, so he was forced to piece together a broad outlook from dozens of articles. However, he also looked up some maps and such, trying to figure out where he was going.
When Scott stepped off the plane and into the airport, he immediately went to baggage claim. Restrictions were a lot looser it seemed than at home, but he guessed the UNSC had bigger worries than overreacting to airport threats. Scott got to baggage and retrieved his small amount of luggage, composed mostly of rifles, drawing odd looks from other people. Finally, however, he walked outside, and after some confusion, hailed a taxi. He got in and put his luggage in the seat next to him, the MA3 inside a gun case. He removed the M6A and strapped it to his thigh, but the cab driver, an elderly white man, didn’t even give him a second look.
“Can you take me to the nearest hotel?” Scott asked
“Thirty credits.” Said the man
“Done.” Said Scott
The cab took off, faster than Scott thought it should be going. Scott tried to busy himself counting magazines for his two weapons (both stored in the gun bag), but got bored when he got the final count at 25, ten for the rifle and 15 for the pistol. Finally, several minutes in, he looked out the back window, gazing at the tall buildings.
As time wore on, Scott realized instinctively that something was up. Two cars stayed with them as they pulled off exits, into side streets, and towards a park. Scott felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach—and grabbed for the gun bag, and the MA3 inside.
“Pull over,” said Scott
“Why?” asked the man, “We’re almost to the hotel!”
“Pull. Over.” Said Scott
Then, completely against himself, he wheeled the M6A up to the mans face. The man stopped with a loud screech, but Scott didn’t even give him another look as he dove from the car, MA3 cradled. Behind him, he heard the two trailing cars stop, and as he glanced back, he saw four people, with ONI insignia on their chest, getting out.
“Stop!” they yelled
Scott couldn’t think. He spun and fired, shoulder flaring in pain as the stock kicked against him. The agents dove for cover, bringing out pistols, and Scott sprinted down the street. He ran past three blocks, legs burning, and stopped at an alley to rest. Suddenly, he heard footsteps, and turned to see two of the agents right in his face. Suddenly, he saw movement in his peripheral vision, and everything went black as a fist struck his face.
A little over an hour later, news reports of the arrest began coming to life all over New Jersey. It showed a reporter woman in white garb, talking about the latest exploits of the baggage safety branch of ONI.
“Earlier today,” it began “Four members of the baggage safety branch of the office of naval intelligence apprehended a young suspect after a brief shootout. The suspect was initially tailed due to baggage complaints, but the suspect made a run for it as he realized he was being tailed. The young man reportedly sold an ancient device from 2008 to a shop in Washington, though the transaction has yet to be traced. Interviewing has yet to begin, but the young criminal has already been placed under arrest for assaulting an officer of the peace, fraud, and possible theft.”
//Your screams blacken my soul// //I am shadow, I am death// //I am alone in the dark, but not afraid//
61: Asking for Directions can't be a good idea
Liam looked at the screen, trying to interpret the lines, arrows, green dots, and other assorted lines/colors/whatever that showed up on the screen. He swore. "Smith, get you ass up here!" he yelled. Smith came, lugging the rather-large bag of peanuts he found somewhere. "Tell me what this is trying to tell me" Liam demanded.
"Well, it says that we are off coarse...nearing England." Liam sighed. All he wanted was to meet up with the others - not that he knew what any of them looked like. For all he knew, one might even have a Trilby hat! "Alright. We still over the Atlantic Ocean?" he asked. "Yeah...why?" the response was. "Find me a ship - a floating ship to land on. I want directions - actual one. Degrees. A compass heading. Something I can understand!" Liam stated.
The Pelican angled back as the engines increased power to control the decent and to bring the craft to a near-complete halt on the landing pad on the back of a rather small fishing boat. The boat looked small from the air, but looked a lot smaller once they were on it. Apart from a tiny turreted gun in the front, it was unarmed. "Leave the Pelican here and come in with me."
The soldier and the teenager walked along the deck and noticed the odd lack of fishing and the lack of crewmen standing around. Together, they walked into the Bridge. Then they noticed the sight. 2 crew members were tied up. Both had holes blown out of their heads.
After watching many military shows, and many movies, Liam recognized the what was used to make the wounds: bullets. Small caliber too, it seemed. Liam went on his knees and threw up. When he was, he didn't look at the bodies again. He drew his M7 from his waist and put it against his shoulder, as they both moved to the door leading further into the ship.
Smith opened the door and Liam went in, M7 at the ready. He saw a movement and moved to sight in on it. A loud BANG sounded and Liam felt a thing fly over his head at high speed. He pulled the trigger of his M7...and was rewarded with a loud THUCKTHUCKTHUCK, the noise a M7 makes. He reloaded it and walked over to...it. He looked down.
A youngish man was lying there, bleeding out from chest shots. Liam swore. He had shot a person. Was it justified? Well, he was shot at...so, it was justified. Liam didn't feel sorry for them, and Liam motioned 'forward' and the two of them walked down the hall, guns at the ready. They came to a flight of stars, which they followed until they were about halfway down.
Then, they stopped and listened to the talking they just noticed. They crept downstairs and peeked around the corner...to see a large bunch of people crowded around a table, each working on something. Smith grabbed his BR-55's scope and used it to see what they were working on. "Oh shit." Smith breathed. "They are making bombs," Smith said. "Do we go in guns blazing?" Liam asked. "Yeah," Smith responded. "Lets go"
Smith held up three fingers, then two, and finally one. Liam waited for the execute signal. Smith bought his fist down, giving the execute signal. Liam burst out of cover and opened up with his M7. He had read the books and decided the Rebels, as they must be, were bloodthirsty and violent.
Smith burst out with his BR55 and mowed down as many was he could. Liam did the same. After about 2 or 3 seconds, all the rebels were dead. Smith did a 'dead-check' and rigged on of their bombs to go off. Liam and Private Smith sprinted back to the Pelican and took off, clawing into the air, just as the bomb exploded.
"FUCK! Damage report!" Liam shouted at Smith. "We took shrapnel. The Pelican is alright though. The Warthog was shielded from the blast." Smith concluded. "Lets get to 'Jersey before anything else happens. I trust you can get us there without mre 'directions'?" Liam decided. Rainbow Dash (Talk) • (Contribs)
62: I can haz huggles?
"Ahahahahahahah!" Josh laughed at Beth, "fancy you to fall into a bin; Welshy."
Beth swung at him again. Josh dodged and grabbed her arm.
"Don't do that again." Josh demanded, while looking into her brown eyes. He saw real fear. "Hey, don't worry. We'll get out of this alive. I hope."
"We better Irish," she replied with a smile.
The two walked down the centre of Cardiff. Beth kept pointing out the differences between her Cardiff and nows.
"Hey! You two! STOP!" A voice screamed.
"Fuck, In here!" Josh screamed and dragged Beth into yet another alleyway.
"How very Cliché..." Josh mumbled.
"I can has huggles?" A stranger said.
"Ugh...." Josh said and ran off; while holding Beth by the Hand.
"Grab them!" The same voice shouted again.
"Oh for fucks sake!" Josh said and instead of running into a possible alleyway, he grabbed Beth and dragged her into a group of people.
"I'm sorry. I'm gonna have to do it again."
"Huh? No wait...!"
Too late.
Josh grabbed Beth, and kissed her. This time Beth did try and pull away. Again. And again: Josh wouldn't let her. After the soldier's went away. Josh stopped.
"Feel free to hit me." Josh said cheekilly.
But the punch never came. And both walked queitly into a Store.
Joshua(Talk) 19:36, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
63: Name's Beth. Code name: Bethy Snake.
Beth brushed her hair with her hands. God, She didn't need to do that. And That man... She was grateful Irish boy took her away. She didn't want to think what he wanted to do to her. The Store wasn't busy, being a store in the backstreet of Cardiff. She looked around and looked at the Security systems. She saw a Camera right in the corner, and nudged irish.
"Camera ove- Wait... No!" She just saw looking through the window a soilder with a PDW pointed at them, and She grabbed his, and dragged him through to the back, and saw a Stack of Cardboard boxes, and a set of Lockers, one open.
"Okay, is your Name Josh?"
"Yeah."
"Great! Now get in that locker!"
"WHAT?" Josh Shouted, looking at Beth like she was crazy.
"Just...Trust me." Beth moved to the stack of cardboard boxes, and found most of them empty, except the ones discarded, and sighed. God, if this works, I am becoming a Spy. She put herself in Fetal postion and with one hand, put the box over herself, and lied there, Wondering if it would work. Love is Noise Love is PainLove is these blues 19:57, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
What Now?
Liam yawned as he piloted the Pelican though the night, towards Newark, New Jersy. Smith was snoring, cuddling his BR55 like a teddy bear. The young private had no nightmares about the rebels they knocked out, apparently. Liam did, however. He had vivid memories of every single round he fired hit the rebels, killing them.
Liam shuddered at the thought. He angled the Pelican down, and spotted lights - Newark, New Jersey. He had sent many, many messages on the IRC, requesting a number to call, only to be given a location, Berkeley Collage. He flew over many lights, until he came to where the Pelican's Computer said the collage was. He lowered the engines output, so the Pelican entered a semi-steep glideslope.
Liam, along with Smith, were able to control the Pelican almost like a 'true' UNSC pilot. Liam had problems with the many, many electronic gizmos, 'helping' the pilot fly. He found them annoying and confusing, due to the number and his experience in CAP airplanes in the 21st Century.
"Smith" Liam said. Smith muttered and sat up. "We there?" he asked. "We are comin' in now. Give me a hand with landing procedures." He said. He guided thee Pelican in so it would land in the middle of the courtyard. "So, what are we doing here?" Smith asked.
"Well, we are looking for the group of people who travelled foward in time, much like me." Liam responded. "Oh" was Smith's reply. Liam hoped they called him. He put his number on the IRC and changed the topic to disply his number. He only hoped they contacted him before he did something really dumb.
The Pelican touched down softly. Smith took the first watch, Letting Liam sleep, while sitting in a Cargo bay seat, making sure no one bothered the Pelican or the Warthog still attached to it. Rainbow Dash (Talk) • (Contribs)
Let's go...
After getting put on the grid, they went on a shopping spree.
Mainly at a surplus store.
They bought surplus UNSC uniforms, illegal explosives, sniper rifles, and even two early models of the Warthog, which they mounted really... ancient machine guns on, which were M249 SAWS.
They also bought camping supplies, and after driving on the highway at insane speeds, they made it to Cleveland, where they knew the Covenant was going to invade.
All they had to do know was wait.
AJ has cleaned his BR55 about ten times that night, mainly in anticipation... and fear. This was the real deal... nothing like paintball or airsoft... where you just walked away. They could die out there... and that was scary.
No... they couldn't die. They had to make it back to the modern era alive... they just had to.
The next morning, he heard the air raid sirens. It was time to fight... not just for himself... not for country... not for honor or glory... but for the survival of his species. -- SPARTAN-002[The Hero] [The Team] [A New Chronicle] 03:01, 13 June 2009 (UTC)
66: "God May be a Sports Fan, But he doesn't like these jokes anymore..."
Beth eyes were clenched shut, as footsteps approached her position under the box. Never before had she been so scared. The thuds of the marine's boots were slower than her formula one styled heart, much slower. She was caught for sure. She prepared for the TTR rounds to hit her body, rounds that never came. Instead, the footsteps moved away from her. A lungful of air escaped from her body that she didn't know she was holding in, but her relief was short-lived. The sounds of the locker door and TTR bullets thudding on Human skin took Beth's only person she knew from her.
Okay, Maybe not a bad thing... She mused. He had seemed to be quiet slow and his only ideas involved kissing her, and considering she was in a relationship. Beth also figured it would be easier to sneak aboard a transport ship to America. If Josh was here, then maybe some more reliable members of Halo Fanon where here? She hoped so.
– Josh woke up, hands tied and a low light in the roof flickering. He was in a UNSC Interrogation room, and there was no escape for him now.
– Beth sat happily in the cargo hold of a transport ship heading for New Jeresy. She didn't know this, however. She thought she was heading for Boston, already planning her Boston jokes in her head whilst she picked through the cargo. She had already changed her clothes to keep up to date, but she had also found the most badass hat she had ever laid eyes on. It was a full black Trilby styled hat, with a pink feather slid into a band around it. She'd also found a very nice wallet with a lot of credits in it. She was in the clear there. A thought hit her head very smooth and musical like.
What are Keyboards like this far in the future?!