Skin Deep
This journal has become something of a self preservation. I don't really have anyone to talk to, writing helps. Sure, Big Daddy may be the closest thing I've ever had to a friend, but sadly, he doesn't respond. Neither does this journal, but it helps more than ranting to Daddy. So here it goes, again.
Ah beauty. Everyone always talks about it. Even I talk about it. I guess that is one thing I can relate myself to the rest of the world with, appreciation for beauty. I really do think of beauty a lot, I talk to Big Daddy about it. Just not in the sense that most would. Any normal man would be interested in the physical beauty of another person and their family. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not any normal man. I would rather be with the one beautiful thing I ever created, Big Daddy. People always tell me that Daddy is just some ugly outdated metal coffin that will get me killed in the end. That's what the pretty boy snipers, the drop boys, and I bet even the Spartans talked about me behind my back. But here I am, and where are they? Dead of course. So I guess this is another of those sayings that I can't really stand.
Sure, Big Daddy doesn't have skin, or a face, or legs to die for, but he is still beautiful in my eyes. The amount of work, sweat, blood, and time I've put into this hunk of metal is astounding. If I told you just how long I've spent working on Daddy, well, you'd probably think even less of my sanity than you already do. He's a work of art. I've survived Hunters, nukes, Gravity Hammers, you name it I've fought it and killed it. And I did it cause of my ugly mech. So when people say that Big Daddy is ugly I should probably just laugh and say 'beauty is only skin deep'.
EVAC: 11 hrs 17 minutes
Population: 13, 467 Infected: 1, 348
I hated evacuation missions, and for a perfectly good reason. First, it never made sense why soldiers lives should be thrown away so that people who are incapable of fighting can run away and be killed somewhere else. Also, they never worked. Miridem proved that to me. The war had been about numbers, and the fact of the matter was the Covenant had more. And still, they threw away soldiers just to save the lives of a couple pretty boy civies. Now the war was over, and still they threw us away.
This whole mission started like shit when the pilots stuck me in the back of a Pelican, with a bunch of aliens at that, facing the wall, and locked me in Big Daddy without any room to move the mech around. I wasn't one for claustrophobia, but I really hated Pelicans. Oh hurray, let's all get in a big flying brick with virtually no defenses, great fucking idea right there!
This mission sucked even more when we were finally told what the hell was going on. Apparently, that Master Chief didn't do a good enough job in killing the Flood seeing as Resort, of all places a vacation planet, was now overrun with the parasite. Deep down I sorta dreamed about being on Resort, going to it. From the pictures, god, it was paradise. A playground for pretty boys and super models. A bit above the pay grade for me. Well, now I was getting to go. And I got to bring Big Daddy!
I didn't know much about the Flood, but from the stories some of the older marines told me, it wasn't pretty. Most of them wouldn't even say more than a few rumors and that it was the worst thing they ever saw. Worse than seeing a Bravo Kilo eat a baby, which had to just be the most fucked up shit on earth. But from what I knew, if I stayed in Big Daddy there was no way I was getting infected. Looks like Big Daddy saves me again.
"Five minutes to touchdown." The pilot's distinctively female voice chimed over the radio. "Hope you're ready back there in the coffin."
I grumbled under my breath rather than giving a straight up answer. With a few flicks of switches and a good amount of fuel Big Daddy was online by the time we touched down. The only warning I had was the sudden flood of light through the cockpit covering as the back door slid open to reveal sand, lots and lots of sand. A light push on the controls and Daddy stepped off the back and felled, and landed, throwing sand into the air and sinking a few inches, covering the large metal 'toes' of Big Daddy's feet. Fucking beaches. If any sand got in my Cyclops' joints I would have to spend the next few days washing and oiling him.
Behind me the others in the ship piled out. First off was the chieftain. I don't like the chieftain. I mean, I don't like anyone. But I really don't like the chieftain. He and I, well, we got a bit of a history, to say the least. And I knew it was him. He had a unique hammer and unique armor. Then off was the Elite chick, the stealth op in the black armor with the katana like sword on her back. Then out came the Jackal with the tattoos on his arms. Then a handful of marines.
"This is Sierra-oh-four-seven. Feral squad and I have touched down just outside the southern condos. No contacts yet. Proceeding to rally point Alpha to aid in the evacuation, see you guys there." I listened over the radio to the Spartan. For a moment, I forgot there even were Spartans on the Rihannon a 'two and a couple of 'threes. To be specific, there was Gunnery Sergeant Nick-047, and the Spartan-IIIs that made up Feral squad. Probably some amazing story about how the Spartan-II had survived the war, but I had never heard it.
Chieftain Exilius growled behind me, though barely audible through the suit, and barked that everyone start moving. With a soft push on the controls I put Big Daddy into a casual jog.
There was a very easy explanation to why the Spartan's team encountered no hostiles yet. A quick gaze to the west told me everything. Thanks to the morning sun, rising on the west much like it did for Earth, the flashes of bombs going off at the horizon were clearly visible against the still darkened eastern skyline. I sighed softly in my suit as I continued to gaze around, ignorant of my immediate surroundings.
Resort was a vacation planet for obvious reasons. Tropical climate, stunning white sand beaches, and the elegant buildings that were put up around the coastline really gave the effect of a true paradise. It wasn't my cup of tea to be honest but I mean, who hasn't thought about a planet like this? Dreamed about one when you're trudging through a swamp, up to your belly in muck and grim? Fine, I had thought about it. Just a reminder that I am still human.
Not far from the beach was a set of large condominium structures where most people stayed during their visit. Ideally, it was the perfect setup for an ambush with the tall buildings, lots of hiding thanks to the fact that the side was littered with patios and the windows were pushed into the building rather than being placed against a flat continuous surface. The chieftain roared, causing the smaller aliens and marines to bring their guns to bear. I kept point, walking rather carelessly and readying the drill hand of Big Daddy. The chieftain could roar all he wanted. I didn't much care.
"Motherfuck," A marine yelled as a stream of gunfire barked behind me. The man pointed up at the top of the building, claiming he saw something. I looked up but Big Daddy restricted my view to only a few stories up. I didn't see anything but it was a pretty tall building. With a sigh I continued to walk, hoping that the others would fall in behind me.
"This is bullshit," I said under my breath, despite the fact that nobody could hear me outside of the cockpit even if I talked normally. "Why didn't they just nuke this planet too?"
"What is that?" another marine asked as one of the floors began to move near the top. A few circular things began to fall, followed by even more. They bounced as the hit the ground and began writhing towards the squad.
"Open fire!" Exilius roared as he drew his Spiker, spraying the orbs with the orange shards. The little things exploded on impact as the rest of the squad joined in. A mixture of plasma, spikes, and bullets tore into the coming flock of infection forms when I turned to see more pouring down from the other building as well.
"Everyone get the hell out of here, there's more coming from behind," I yelled into the radio and brought the drill forwards. A swarm of the small mushroom like creatures landed on Big Daddy, but thank god they didn't do much. They coated the cockpit but weren't capable of breaking through the tempered glass. A quick swipe of my hand and they were pulverized by Big Daddy's thick metal fist.
The Spartan's voice echoed over the coms. "Contacts! Lots of little ones. They're all over. Falling back to the rally point."
I ran towards the group of marines, most of which were already in the process of being infected. Poor little bastards. Didn't have shields or good armor. Using Big Daddy's big feet I began stomping the Flood forms as they crawled towards the humans. With the thick armor on the Cyclops, Big Daddy and I were practically invincible against the small infection forms. Poor little marines though. They were fucked before I even got to them.
"Get on my back. I'll carry you out of here," I ordered through the speakers on the suit. The next few seconds were spent popping the bugs as the lone survivor of the group clambered up onto my shoulder and tapped the visor. I looked and saw the three fingered hand of the Jackal and frowned.
"Get out there human!" Exilius roared once more through the radio. He and the Sangheili were already on the run, spraying fire behind them to keep the Flood at bay. The little ones may not have been strong, or fast, or have anything that resembled intelligence, but there was so many. Even the chieftain could spend an hour swinging his hammer, and there would just be a dozen little ones more.
"Hold on" I yelled to the Jackal. Big Daddy lurched forwards into a run as I jammed on the controls. The birdlike alien bounced along as Big Daddy stomped across the earth, still popping the little infection forms for what it was worth.
"Slow the hell down!" Iza yelled as he was forced to drop his pistol and use both hands.
Exilius and Priya were still a good fifty yards ahead, but they weren't sprinting like Big Daddy was. I slammed on the controls even harder, begging for Big Daddy to move even faster. The metal strained as I eventually caught up to the two aliens.
"We have to get to the rendezvous now!" Priya said as I slowed enough to keep from having Iza fly off my shoulder at any given minute.
Exilius touched the side of his face to activate his headset. "Sergeant, I can see the rendezvous point. Where are you?"
There was no answer for a moment. I looked up from my controls and could obviously see why. Gunfire was erupting from the roughly built barricade as two warthogs circled the perimeter of the camp. It looked as if it were marines who were firing in on the barricade but it could have just been a mistake due to the distance.
"Chieftain," Nick-047's voice came garbled through the radio thanks to the sounds of gunfire in the background. "We are barely holding the line against these things. Get over here and help us! Intelligence said the outbreak had just started at sundown. Where did the Flood get these kind of numbers?"
Exilius growled and started running a bit faster. Priya, that Elite chick, did the same, drawing the long sword off her back. Iza tapped the glass once more.
"Hey, Mr. Pilot guy, how about you don't die, 'cause if you do then I'm probably going with you."
"Then just stay there and shoot and I won't die," I replied and pushed on Big Daddy's controls again.
"Sounds like a deal." Iza said before tapping the glass with his palm once more. He settled into a better position, this time sitting on a shoulder with his legs tightly wrapped around, and pulled the Carbine off his back.
The barricade, Rally Point A, the evac station, whatever you like to call it: had at one time been a luxury restaurant and hotel complex where a bunch of yuppies and pricks could order imported steak and drink wine. I had heard that thorn beast was now being served, to give them the illusion of something exotic. On the bright side, it was an all steel structure, meant to give it a clean look. But that steel structure made it one of the most fortifiable bases on the whole planet. To be honest I didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing seeing as if it were infected that place would be a bitch and a half to take down. Outside was a collection of three 'Olifants' as the Marines dubbed them. Pretty much they were repurposed civilian Elephants, each now sporting a turret on the top for added protection.
As the barricade came into view I realized it was actually marines who were attacking it. At the same time, they weren't though. Most of them were grotesquely mutated, sprouting bony spikes from their hands and their skin colored an off yellow-green. I revved Big Daddy's drill and charged at a clump of three infected marines.
A quick swing of the drill and the nearest one was virtually disintegrated. Iza held on with one hand and opened fire with his carbine, spraying green rounds across the scattered pockets of combat forms. Although the rounds did little damage to their spongy bodies, it at least drew the attention off the marines and Spartans. Better the Flood focus on me.
Exilius roared as he and Priya moved around the back together, cutting and smashing their way through the Flood. I moved through the front with Big Daddy. Iza and I were actually working out pretty good together. He would shoot them and gain the monster's attention then I would smash them with a hand or drill them when they charged in for an attack.
"They have guns!" Iza yelped as several armed combat forms ran towards me, firing assault rifles and SMGs. The small caliber rounds deflected off Big Daddy's thick armor as I brought up the arms to protect my cockpit covering.
"No shit," I replied while the combat forms continued their charge. With a flick of my wrist I batted the lead one away, splattering Big Daddy's arm with green sappy blood. The three others smashed into me, banging on the cockpit covering with their demented bodies.
As always, I was very glad to be inside Big Daddy. You couldn't really tell just how bad the Flood infection was until you saw it up close. Their faces….their faces were just so fucking wrong. I wanted to look away but it oddly hard.
"Are you going to kill them or what?" Iza screeched as he fired a few rounds down from my shoulder. And when his carbine was empty, he turned to hold the barrel, and swung it like a club. He whacked the "head" of one of the combat forms, knocking it away, and the body still thrashed and squirmed and beat against me.
"You want to be the fucking pilot?" I asked rhetorically. The hand swipe worked equally as good against the combat forms as the small infection forms. Their sickly green blood spattered the lower half of Big Daddy's cockpit covering as his large hand crushed nearly every bone in their body, if Flood still had bones.
"Mop them up! Mop them up, mop them up, mop them up!" Nick ordered over the radio as a pack of Warthogs came back around for another pass. Their large turrets ripped apart what few combat forms were left standing. I aimed Big Daddy for the camp, taking extra precaution to stomp on each and every body I passed with my usual double tap obsession.
"Not bad Mr. Pilot, now all you need is my dashing good looks and I'd probably be jealous," Iza bragged as he tapped the glass covering.
"Get the fuck off my mech…" I said angrily, shaking Big Daddy's shoulders softly.