Hi guys, my first attempt at a Halo Fanfiction; hope you all like it. Remember to review and subscribe (please)!
CHAPTER 1 - NEW ARRIVAL
0012 – July 9, 2541
Camp Currahee, Onyx
SPARTAN 0867 (Lloyd)
It was past curfew, and the lights wouldn't be on for another 5 hours in Lloyd's barrack, but he was still awake. Something was troubling him.
Lloyd was orphaned as a baby, and taken into the SPARTAN-III program after his first fight in the orphanage; he was only 4 at the time. He was taken to Camp Currahee on Onyx at age 6, after learning how to shoot from an ex-marine stationed at one of ONI's headquarters. He had been here ever since.
SPARTAN-III's usually graduate into their armor at age 12, and placed within a Battle Group of 300. They would rely on sheer numbers, cunning, superior battle strategies, and being smaller targets to complete their missions. The short time they had spent in training paid off well; they were the best of the best, but still experimental. The armor they received was experimental as well; the semi-powered infiltration armor (SPI) was a compromise between the more expensive, better MJOLNIR SPARTAN-II armor, and the cheaper, simpler ODST combat suits. Many of the war veterans stationed at Currahee commented on it being, "part legionnaire mail, part tactical body armor, and part chameleon."
It did its job.
What was bothering Lloyd though, was that he would not be receiving the rank of platoon leader, or even squad leader. As a new company, his 'Recruit Group' had been assigned new barracks with new squads, leaving the 'Hell Hole'. This was their pet name for the recruit barracks because it was the toughest training they'd ever been through, and the name stuck. At age 12, coming on 13 at the end of the month, Lloyd would officially become a SPARTAN, or fail out of the school and be sent over to Zone 67 to be trained as a marine. Either that or he would be shot, a failure to their 'perfect' program. Lloyd was currently only becoming an infantryman; not the rank he thought he deserved.
Lloyd didn't get it. He was the most advanced in his close combat class, scoring 27 out of 28 successful assassinations on one of his simulations; he shot the best patterns with any gun; and he was the fastest and strongest in both his class and the SPARTANs that had been in his 'Recruit Group'. He turned over angrily in his bed and came face-to-face with a gleaming SPI helmet.
Lloyd felt something slide over his mouth, a cloth maybe, and gave into the darkness as the toxins knocked him out.
'Shit…'
Lloyd woke up on a folding bed in a plain, whitewall room. He sat up, rubbing his head, and swung down. Lloyd suddenly realized that he was wearing his training armor, for simulation purposes only. The white, unblemished surface gleamed dully in the dim light. On a table next to him, he spotted his helmet; SPI copy, clear visor like all the trainees got. He slipped it on, and relaxed as the familiar surface brushed against his military-cut blond hair. He looked around the room some more, and saw a weapons rack next to the door. He walked over, and found a pistol and DMR, with one mag for each already loaded in. Lloyd had a bad feeling about this, but he grabbed the weapons and cocked them, stepping out the door and into the corridor.
Lloyd spun around as he heard a sound behind him. He raised his DMR and walked towards the corner, bracing himself for a potential firefight. He leapt out and came face-to-face with a door leading to a large, empty room used for mock combat. He went in.
Inside, it seemed almost safe. There was another door across the room which Lloyd headed towards, but was stopped abruptly by three soldiers who appeared out of the shadows, literally stepping out of nothingness. Their faces were masked by their helmets, and they all wore SPI armor, guns held at the ready.
Lloyd lowered his weapon. "Hey, great, some friendly faces. Can you-"
The SPARTAN IIIs opened up on him, and Lloyd was hit in the shoulder with a 'bullet'. It stung like hell, and when he looked over at it, his shoulder was encased in a slab of purple 'stone', rendering that shoulder useless. Lloyd took more hits, doing his best to return fire, until he was completely frozen solid. The three SPARTANs laughed and walked over to him, unsheathing their knives. Lloyd braised himself for death, but discovered the strangest feeling. He looked up at the nearest SPARTAN, then at the knife buried halfway in his chest.
All three SPARTANs had stuck their knives in him at once, and Lloyd imagined what it would feel like to be dead. Instead of pushing them in all the way through his training armor, the SPARTANs heaved down on their combat knives, slicing through the tough 'stone' and breaking it off in chunks. As each bit fell away, leaving Lloyd bare-chested and clad only in his slacks and helmet, he saw a part of his armor sliced away as well. After they were done, the SPARTAN who had fired upon Lloyd first, walked up to him and slammed Lloyd's head against the wall, slicing his knife across the front of Lloyd's helmet as he did. Lloyd stared at the remains of his helmet on the ground before swallowing and standing up straight, scared, but a SPARTAN to the end.
Brave.
Noble.
Courageous.
A SPARTAN never dies.
The three SPARTANs re-sheathed their knives, though, and slung their rifles across their backs. Lloyd took this opportunity to study all three of them for the first time in a non-combat situation. The first one had a color scheme of grey and red, choosing for his weapon a DMR. The second had a color scheme of light green and white, his weapon twin pistols. And the third SPARTAN III was rose coloring; purple outlines defining its shoulders, and it carried a sniper rifle. All three removed their helmets, revealing the first two to be male and the final to be female. The red-and-grey SPARTAN walked up to Lloyd, his scarred face making him at age 22; one of the original SPARTAN IIIs; one of the survivors. He held out his hand for Lloyd to shake, and he did.
"Well done, SPARTAN 0867, you performed marvelously for one so young."
"Yes sir, thank you sir!" Lloyd said, coming to a shaky attention before his obvious superior, surprised by this turn of events.
"No need for formalities here, Lloyd. Call me Hawken. And this," Hawken motioned to the other two SPARTANs, "Is King and Bushbaby."
"Bushbaby…sir?" questioned Lloyd nervously.
Hawken and King laughed. "Well, she sneaks around trees and loves fighting in the dark, besides, she's a real cutie," smirked Hawken.
'Bushbaby' rolled her eyes and shot Hawken in the back of the knee, freezing the joint in a painful position. Hawken swore and cut off the 'stone' savagely with his knife.
"Call me Mel off the battlefield please…" Mel said, contempt obvious in her voice for the call name; 'Bushbaby'.
"Well," King said, grinning down at Lloyd. "Do you know why you're here?"
"No sir."
"No need for formalities, SPARTAN, we're all the same rank in this facility, except for Hawken of course because apparently ONI needs someone to run this place who isn't a dickhead. Well, he's running it…"
Hawken punched King, making them both laugh at the feeble effort.
"…But I think they screwed up on the dickhead part!" roared King. "Anyways, you are now part of a complex, elite fighting force arranged in two-man teams sent behind enemy lines to wreck havoc and destruction. You are not expected to survive in your line of work, but you will do it none the less, SPARTAN! You came here with four others; all got similar initiations. You were the best so far, however, surviving longer than any of the others."
Lloyd had unconsciously walked to the middle of the room, as King kept speaking, Hawken and Mel accompanying him.
"Lloyd!" Hawken beamed. "Welcome to Project Headhunter!"
And with that, Lloyd noticed many more SPARTANs around the room, uncloaking from where they had previously been unseen. A giant cheer went up from the SPARTAN III's, and Lloyd grinned.
'This turned out amazing after all', he thought, standing among his fellow SPARTANs as a proud member of this exclusive program.
'I am a SPARTAN. I am a Headhunter!'
So how was it? Let me know please! I'm still new to the SPARTAN III program so any info you guys have to make this story more true to the real story line is appreciated! Remember, I'm always happy to redo a chapter, but you have to let me know! ^_^
Any ideas for Lloyd's call name btw? :D