I suppose it's appropriate to give some background about myself. I am a Marine in 29 Palms that is bored out of his mind. I have always wanted to write a halo fanfiction, and now I have written something. My home town is Virginia Beach, Virginia and I like Mexican food, a lot. I am a POG boot fuck. I wish I went 0311 (Grunt) but I then quickly realized I would still be doing shitty working parties for SSgt and wondering why there is a base in the middle of butt fuck California all the same that I am now.
At least I'm not in Iraq and I have the privilege of internet and not being surrounded on all sides by ISIL. 300 Marines are trapped in an air base. I think its called Al-Asad Airbase, I'm not sure. All the Marines on this god forsaken base and myself just want to go into the middle east and eradicate anyone that doesn't surrender, ALL of us.
I may also use this story to express some of my qualms with the Marine Corps. If your a salt dog please, either knife hand me through the screen, explain why, or just agree with me and tell me your experience. I love chatting with people. I'm desperate.
John and Fred were going through the streets of 29 Palms looking for a Marine to take with them on the trip to Sangheilios.
"What about that one?" Fred said appraisingly.
"No, too big of a stack. The Marine we're looking for has to be fresh. He can't have faced the covenant in combat." John said as a matter of fact.
Fred hummed in agreement and scanned for better candidates.
It was a comical sight to behold.
One super soldier was 6'8" while the other was 9 and a half feet tall. A great bit bigger as well.
The Marines couldn't help but stare at them as they passed their position, which was in the Starbucks at the MCX.
Both young and old Marines were curious. Some Senior Noncommissioned officers knew what they were and kept to themselves, as well did the Senior officers.
Younger Marines and Corpsmen didn't want to miss the two legends and looked at them and shook their hands as best they could. Even got a picture or two if they asked politely enough. They would probably post it on the extranet to cement it into the fabric of humanity.
Some of the Marines asked if he could flash a sign of some kind to the camera. It mimicked the Lance Corporal rank insignia. John would have to research why later. They had been searching for about an hour until they heard word that a battalion of Marines were coming in from the field and were stopping by the armory to drop off their weapons.
"You want to scout out the armory for some marks?" John asked.
"Why not, we'll get to see how some of them act in utter boredom and dred." Fred said with little humor.
John exhaled air out of his nose harder than usual and lead the way to the armory.
As they arrived they Marines were lining up for the 1st batch of Rifles to try and make it through the receiving window.
"Its dirty, go clean it again."
"What in the actual FUCK do you mean? I have been hear for 3 hours cleaning this damn piece of shit! You're the one that is late and had to miss your late morning soap opera."
"Don't care, keep cleaning Fucker."
"I hate you, you know that."
"Love you too." He said with utter sarcasm.
"Rah."
Rah was all the disgruntled Marine said before a giant hand came and took his rifle away from him. The Marine, on pure instinct, punched at whatever took his rifle. All he hit was a solid wall or what he perceived as a solid wall.
"AHHHHHH, FUCK!" The young Lance Corporal screamed.
"You might want to look at who you hit shit for brains." The PFC behind him added.
"Fuck you, Henderson."
"He's right….."Fred interjected.
The LCpl saw Lieutenant Commander Fred-104's IFF signature and rendered a near perfect solute with his broken right hand. He then looked to Fred's right and paled. He had just hit The Master Chief Sierra-117 in front of his platoon and company Gunnery Sergeant who was making his rounds keeping law and order.
The Gunny was about to rip him a new asshole in front of the Chief to see that he would be reprimanded for his actions, but the Chief perceived this and stopped him.
"LCpl Robins. Your weapon is immaculate, why did this Marine not accept it" the Chief asked as he was inspecting the weapon.
"I don't know Sir, I mean Master Chief. The Marines in the Armory are legendary for being assholes." LCpl Robins answered as PFC Henderson whispered in his ear "He's an SNCO, Parade rest mother fucker."
LCpl went to parade rest out of position of attention. He usually knew when parade rest was appropriate, but this was THE Master Chief, he was confused by this experience.
"Well does the Amory Marine think my inspection isn't good enough, give it back to him."
The Chief handed the weapon back to the Marine and the Marine then handed it back to the Amory.
"You pass." the Marine in the window said without hesitation.
"How long have you been in LCpl?" Fred asked.
"About a year Sir." the LCpl answered.
The Chief and Fred looked at one another in agreement that this Marine is the one they want. He was feisty and fresh he's just a new model then the Marines they've served with.
"You have now been assigned to a new mission Marine. We will go talk with your command and pull you out of your unit for an undisclosed amount of time."
"How will you gentlemen do that? Isn't there a lot of paper work involved with this?"
"Not when a Spartan like myself has orders from HIGHCOM to take you there." Fred motioned to his pack.
"All we have to do is fill your name in and hand it over to your Company Commander." Chief interjected.
"Congratulations, you're out of here Robinson" PFC Henderson said as the Spartans walked away.
'What the hell just happened?' was all the Lcpl could think as he walked away from the desolate place that is the armory.
As the Lcpl walked to his room in the barracks he was tackled into the dirt and shoved into an alleyway of the super base that has now become 29 Palms. The base itself was a city. Complete with Hover taxis and 120 Starbucks. They even had their own theme park.
"What did those Spartans talk to you about Lcpl?!" the Platoon Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Liam said to him in a hushed yell.
"They said I was going somewhere for an undisclosed amount of time Sergeant."
"Fuck! That's not good." the Lcpl's squad leader, Cpl Shepard exclaimed.
"We need to relay this up the chain so it will reach the Captains ears before he hears it from the Spartans."
"I'm on it. I have ears and a mouth in the company office…"The Corporal was then texted that the Spartans already made it to the CO's office by the company clerk.
"We're too late SSgt the Spartans have made it to the Captains office, the LCDR of the two Spartans has now given the orders to Captain Russ."
"Damn it. You still have my personal contact Lcpl?"
"Yes, I do SSgt."
"Good. Go to your room and await the Spartans for pick up. If you need anything at all you call me and I will relay your needs to the Gunny. We'll make sure we get you out of whatever hell you're in with the Spartans. Trouble loves to follow them."
"Aye, SSgt."
Fred was in one of the most we organized offices he had ever seen. Doctor Halsey always had a controlled chaos sort of method to her office, but she always managed to find what she needed. Captain Russ was a tidier animal all together.
"What do you mean you're taking one of my Lcpls on a surprise mission?! He hasn't seen any real combat. The Storm isn't anywhere near here and neither are the Innies. Why would I send a GREEN Lcpl to the heart of the old Covenants military?!" the Captain yelled with, throwing the orders down onto his desk.
"We're just taking him to scout out the new allies Captain, he'll be fine."
"We will train him on the way to Sangheilios, we aren't going the fastest possible speed with the forerunner slipspace drives. That's on purpose for training and briefing." John added through the open window next to the Captain. Seeing as John had a new size to deal with, he opted to talk through window of the Captain's office.
He was in an uncomfortable position, hunched over so his head could be actually level with the window.
"You do realize that if anything happens to him his SSgt will personally come after whoever did it. He tries to be professional, but the Lcpl is so much like his dead brother. The SSgt can't help but be over protective. He's also half that platoons morale they'll come for him too."
"Good to know, at least we'll have backup if it hits the fan." Fred stated as matter of fact.
"We might need them if things get really bad. 117 and I might be with the other Spartans and a few diplomats on this mission, but a planet full of angry Sangheilie doesn't exactly give us any warm feelings either."
"Then why the hell should I let him go to this Party, more or less?"
"Its to show the the new generation of warriors can be friendly with the Elites and grow to accept them. We need him there just as much, if not more, than some super rich Titanium Baron, or weapons contractor."
The Captain was apparently deep in thought. He had the orders in his hand. Why were they explaining it to him? These orders were from someone much higher in the pecking order than the base Commanding General. Maybe they wanted him to see the bigger picture. After all they know what it feels like to be screwed over by the government.
"...Fine take him. Please, bring him back in one piece. He was slated to be meritoriously promoted to Corporal see to it that he comes back to receive such an honor."
"We'll try our best."
That was all the Captain needed.
Lcpl Robins was in his rack waiting, for the Spartans to come. It was nearly 1630, almost 10 hours since he was at the armory.
'What the hell is taking so long' he thought.
There was a knock at his door and his roommate Henderson answered it.
"If you're not the duty we don't care….."
He looked up into Fred's eyes and said "Good morning, Sir!" and quickly moved out of the way for Robins to move up. Robins was told by the Spartans via text to only bring the essentials, dress uniform, and a pair of civilian clothes.
So he was wearing his civilian clothes. A medium black T-shirt that showed of his athletic body, denim jeans, a belt, white socks and a pair of beaten up sneakers.
By contrast Fred was wearing his Service Bravos. Which would be a long sleeve khaki shirt, his black trousers, a Stack that looks about as big as his biceps, the SpecWar pin above said stack, and shiny core frames.
All in all Robins knew he looked like a complete pussy next to him and kind of had a love hate relationship with this mission. He loved it because he got to spend time with 2, if not more, of Earths greatest heroes. Hated it because he hasn't really accomplished anything with his career and felt that he joined the Marine Corps at the wrong time. Peace time.
"You ready to go…boot?"
That sealed the coffin of hatred of the mission.
"No Sir, I feel suicidal and want to jerk off in the middle of the floor for three days and skip this whole thing."
"…"
Even though Fred and the surviving IIs and IIIs have been exposed to humanity, in a more informal, non-military way, things about people still surprised him.
The awkward silence was palpable.
"Sir that was a joke. I want to go on this mission. I wouldn't like anything else."
Fred was just about to call John and tell him the kid was a no go but he nodded with understanding, or more precisely, acceptance of the Lcpl's humor. Vulgar as it was.
As they exited his room and walked downstairs to leave Fred had an idea.
Now it was time for him to get some humor in.
"So did you bring your Dress Blues with you?"
"Yessur"
"Good, now you'll drown in alien sex fluid."
Robins stopped dead in his tracks. He was disgusted to the core by the comment, that much was evident. As the second went on though the face turned from disgust, to explosive laughter.
"What?" was all that Fred could get out before he rushed to the young Marines side, because the Marine collapsed in a fit of laughter.
"I…..I didn't know officers, let alone Spartan officers, could joke around like that."
Fred stared at him and gave the kid on of the most genuine smirks he had ever given to someone.
'I like him, I like him a lot, and I see why he was half the platoon's morale.' Fred contemplated.
"Sir, how well do you know the Master Chief?"
"You could say he's a brother of mine."
"Why is he so…cold?"
Fred had to think on that one.
'Is he really cold?'
"I would have to say that him being cold isn't because of anything you or I did to him. He's just been dealing with his brothers and sisters dying, and the people he cares most around him dying for most of his life. Its professionalism and a drive for the mission to be completed above all else. You're a Marine you should know the mission is everything."
"I know, but being human is part of it too."
Fred was angry. 'How could this kid know anything about what John or his fellow Spartans have gone through?'
The next thing Robins knew he was pinned on the ground with his uniform bag 3 feet away from him and a pack shoved into his spine.
"I recommend you stay your tongue from calling my brother a robot. Unless you want a robotic arm."
"….Yes, Sir"
"He is one of the most caring individuals I have had the privilege to call family and the only Non-com I would ever take an order from. That alone should tell you something. Never question his silence and stoicism for weakness."
"Aye, Sir"
"Good, now let's get going, he's waiting for us in the ship."
"What ship?"
Just as Robins gathered his belongings an ONI stealth ship de-cloaked.
"How did you get THAT past the security net?"
"We're special."
Please review, I need some constructive criticism. Fun fact: If I didn't have word or Chrome this story would have a shit load more errors. I try to proof read, but I don't have much experience at this. I'm not perfect.