Admiral Rake Donsom-This is Admiral Rake Donsom and Spark n Jetz with a new chapter! This time, it's me that's writing it and Sparky that's editing! And this is just another prologue, but with another point of view. Don't worry, it'll make sense after all the chapters are done.
Spark-Yeah buddy! This is gonna be epic. Anyway, this prologue is a bit short (it's a prologue, for god sakes) but we'll try to make the chapters 1,500-2000 words, or at least I will try to too.
Prologue: Information
This could be the biggest scoop of his life! Thought James Richter as he ran down another almost deserted concrete street, located in the mostly industrialized city of Graschenville on Mars, his brown cloak blowing behind him. Following behind was his cameraman, Cherry Darolds (more like camerawoman) who was dressed in casual clothing and had all the filming equipment strapped to her back. They were heading towards a cafe where they were going to meet an insider; a person who had info about the state of the UNSC. Right now, it was covered with an aura of mysteriousness.
They were rushing because they were extremely luckyto have found someone like that. Of course, they would now have to watch out for ONI and those spooks. They don't like what you're saying? Silenced. But that doesn't mean news reporters couldn't go undercover and publish their findings on public sites.
It has been a few months since many UNSC high officers have stopped communicating to the outside. Demands by the civilian government have been answered by threats. Many outposts have stopped responding, and civilians fear another Covenant-like enemy. But, there is rumours that this time, the threat is not from the outside.
Finally, they both arrived after crossing what felt the a thousandth road. The cafe was located in a quite modest building, blending into the background as if it wasn't there. It's gray blocky architecture fitted with the rest of the neighborhood. They entered the building through the automatically sliding doors.
"It's… quiet."
That is quite surprising, but unsurprising at the same time. It was night anyways and an almost abandoned place. Though, it had this luxurious feel about it with the quality of the material and that certain shade of purple. The cameraman and reporter look around and spy a huge man sitting behind a small four person table. Seeing that that's their informer, they walk over and sit down.
"You are the reporters I contacted?" The man said in a light but still harsh voice. He wore only a t-shirt, a pair of shorts and combat boots.
The journalists nodded their affirmative and introduced themselves. In response, the man sitting across from them simply held up his cup of coffee and sipped it slowly, making a small sound.
"So what do you want to know?"
James leaned in and his camera man brought up his camera, a very small and easily portable rectangle about the size of an iphone. Then again, it was attached to a mountain of technology on Cherry's back so it balanced it out.
"Is it alright if we film this? We need proof, but don't worry, we'll remove cover your face and mod your voice." They received another gruff nod.
"Ok, to start off, what has the UNSC been doing these few months?"
"Killing Spartans." Came the response, blunt as hell.
The reporter looked shocked.
"Why? The Spartans were the greatest weapon the UNSC has ever created other than the MAC cannons. What's the point of eliminating their own ace?" They voiced in surprise.
The unknown person laughed as if he didn't mean it. Afterwards, he didn't respond to their question, but instead asked another one. "What would you do with a weapon you couldn't control?"
He was met with silence for a few moment, before James spoke up. "The Spartans have gone rogue?"
The man replied bitterly. "'Rogue'? That depends. Does fighting for freedom count as going rogue?" He muttered the following. "Sometimes, normal people forget that under the seven tons of power armor is just another human."
James' informant then clarified. "The Spartans are literally like dirt by the UNSC brass now. Horrendous acts that no normal citizen should ever even see are literally happening to these genetically modified soldiers without care. They have turned from these super soldiers to super slaves. You see a politician that said one word they didn't like? Bam," He snapped his fingers, "Him and all his relatives, family and everyone who actually knew them are… disposed of." The man continued on without clarification, but everyone knew what he meant.
"But, because of the loyalty of these 'slaves', none of them have done anything. Until he came back."
Millions of questions swarmed the reporter's head. That would explain all the 'gas leaks' in the past week. If what the man before him said was true, then there would literally be a rebellion all across the universe. But, like all good reporters, he has to get all the little juicy details, even if they're a bit dark. "'He?"
The grin split his informant's face apart. "Yes. The one that secured our future."
The millions of questions in James' instantly vaporized. He knew exactly what the buff man was talking about, but… it just seemed to unreal… The reporter had to make it was correct.
"How do I know what you revealed is the truth?"
"You are a freelance reporter, right?" A nod. "I know a place with all the files and information you need. Vanguard Military Base." The reporter gasped.
"Looks like you have a small information gathering mission ahead of you." The informant's smile turned almost evil. "Don't worry, I'll help you." Deep, ominous laughter rang throughout the cafe.
Admiral Rake Donsom: What do you think guys? Mysterious enough?
PS: I'm not Rake Donsom; Everyone else: What? Me: BWAHAHA, DID YOU THINK I'LL GIVE YOU MY REAL NAME?!
Spark: Bow chicka wow wow!