The Great Journey
A/N: I'm not sure which weapon names to capitalize. For now I'm only going to capitalize the names of the Battle Rifle, Covenant Carbine, SMG, Needler, Particle Beam Rifle, Brute Shot, and Fuel Rod Gun. Also, I won't use the "official" Covenant names for their races (ex. Sangheili, Jiralhanae, etc.), for my own reasons. If you have any comments about this don't hesitate to bring it up in a review. Sorry that this chapter is kinda short, but I wanted to get it out to you guys.
Reviews:
pzgr6: I did notice how some of the military tech in Halo/Halo 2 is slightly off. Also, I looked at a Pelican in a ship bay on the level "Cairo Station," and the autocannon's caliber seemed quite small. Well, I'll keep it at 70mm for now, but I'm going to create modified versions of all the UNSC technology. Whoops, did I just say that?
DAvid Chen: Excuse me for my lengthy descriptions. If you don't like 'em, don't read 'em. Well, not really, but the point is, what really is out of character? You don't learn much them from Halo 2 (which is why I had the whole description anyway), so I can make them as I see fit. Just because you're a Commander doesn't mean you can't say "kicked out." The problem with letting readers fill in their own gaps is that they might get confused if their version doesn't match up with info in later chapters. In any future chapters, if there's lengthy descriptions/dialogue in it without any action, I'll be sure to put the "DON'T READ IF YOU'RE EASILY BORED" sticker on top. Seriously. I will. And I kind of did on Chapter 1. Well, I hope that clears that up. Anyway, thanks for the review.
NuclearMage: Hey, thanks for the theory. I had a theory that was pretty much the same as yours. Makes you wonder if that's what Bungie wants us to think, who knows? Also, I was planning to fit ideas like those in my story before you reviewed, but thanks anyway for the help!
Spacefan, Crystopher, EnoshStar, rjectkd89, angelicdhampir2oo4, Inquisitor Arnolis, Raptor - X1: thanks for the support. If only I had more like you.
Chapter 2: Liberator
2337 hours, February 21, 2553 (UNSC Military Calendar) ♦ Unidentified Covenant-controlled Forerunner vessel, holding position behind Covenant staging point around Mars.
The Master Chief paused to reload his weapons after clearing out a room full of Jackals. To conserve ammo he had thrown all four of his frag grenades, which, aside from killing some Jackals, gave the walls and floor a repainting. After putting down the last few Jackals with a few bursts of Battle Rifle fire, he restocked all eight of his grenade pouches with Covenant plasma grenades. Unfortunately, he was down to his last clips for his Battle Rifle and SMGs.
The Chief was slightly disturbed by the fact that there was no serious opposition. Aside from the first encounter with hostiles on board the ship, he had not fought a single Brute. He guessed that the lower-ranking soldiers were put in front as meat shields, and that most of the Brutes were being kept in reserve, or being used for important tasks. Having to deal with masses of Brutes wasn't a very comforting idea, so he hoped that this assumption was wrong.
He shrugged, slapped his last clip of Battle Rifle ammo into his weapon, and moved closer to the door that led into the next room. His job was never easy.
The chambers on board the Forerunner ship were somewhat similar to the chambers on Halo 04. In the Master Chief's terms, the layout had no obvious purpose whatsoever. It didn't matter much to him; the random objects scattered around the rooms offered plenty of cover in combat.
The Master Chief took cover behind one such object and threw a primed plasma grenade near the door. The thin door peeled backwards from the force of the blast, and the Chief brought his Battle Rifle up.
The room that the door led into was unlike any of the others. All the surfaces of it were constructed a strange, clear material, which allowed a clear view into space-and the battle taking place above Earth. The material seemed to be exceptionally strong, because crates were stacked on it and holographic display systems were mounted everywhere.
More importantly, a large group of Brutes and Jackals had been in the room monitoring equipment. It appeared that either the Chief was getting closer to the Prophet, or he was just wrong that the Brutes were in reserve. Right now, he didn't really care about that. As the grenade blew the door open, the Covenant soldiers turned towards the Chief, weapons at the ready.
The Spartan ducked behind his cover and heard plasma bolts sizzling through the air. There was the unmistakable noise of several Covenant Carbines, as well. That would be a problem; his rifle's range and accuracy advantage over the usual plasma rifles was gone. However, the Brutes were not exactly great shots, not nearly as good as their eagle-eyed Elite predecessors, and the Carbines could come in handy because he was almost out of Battle Rifle ammo.
The Chief edged himself from his cover, just far enough so that he could fire. He targeted the three Jackals first, as it would be easier to tackle the Brutes without the pesky shield-carriers around. Sighting through the rifle's 2x scope, he aimed at the first Jackal's shield notch.
The Master Chief squeezed his Battle Rifle's trigger and blew the Jackal's hand off. Blood spewed out onto the other Jackals, who threw up their shields over their heads and tried to run for cover behind the Brutes.
A foolish decision, the Master Chief thought with a slight smile. He shot the two Jackals in their backs, and they slumped to the ground. Even as plasma rifle and Carbine fire peppered his shields and the area around him, the Chief steadied his aim on the head of one Brute and fired three bursts, killing the creature. As it howled a death cry and crashed to the floor, he threw himself from cover, throwing three plasma grenades at the remaining cluster of Brutes.
Blue-white detonations momentarily obscured the Brutes from sight. When the brightness faded, only three were left alive. The Spartan dispatched one with the last eighteen rounds in his Battle Rifle's magazine, then discarded the empty weapon. The last Brute, predictably, dropped his Carbine and charged the Chief. The Spartan had already drawn his two SMGs and was hosing the Brute with gunfire.
The Brute must've been wounded by the plasma grenades, or the Chief got in a lucky shot, because after using about half of each SMG clip, the Brute fell over, dead. He threw away the nearly-empty SMGs and picked up a Covenant Carbine. He checked the indicator bar on the weapon: the current clip was about half full. Confident that he could scrounge more ammo off of the dead Brutes in the next room, he gingerly stepped into it. When he was sure the glass-like material would hold his weight, he strode in.
Crates full of Covenant weapons and equipment were open all around the room. The Chief, luckily, had hit the jackpot. He refilled his grenade bandolier, clipped two Needlers to his armor's side weapon holster/clip systems, and filled his ammunition pockets with both Carbine and Needler ammo.
Before moving out, the Spartan could not help but glance out through the clear material for a moment, watching the battle for Earth. A flash caused his armor's visor to darken as a nearby Covenant cruiser launched its plasma torpedoes. Seconds later, its shields blazed solid silver and the ship shattered into fragments as a Super MAC round hit it. A smaller Covenant ship, presumably a destroyer, was hit by several ship-launched MAC rounds and a flurry of Archer missiles. The ship listed heavily, its frame torn apart. It appeared the humans, for once, were taking far fewer losses, because their three hundred orbital Super MAC stations had enormous range and power. However, the Covenant had a large numerical advantage, and were beginning to take out a few human ships and MAC stations.
Shaking his head, and now fully decked out with Covenant equipment, the Chief approached yet another door, not remembering that it was likely to be locked. Surprisingly, the door slid open as he neared it. The reward for his momentary carelessness was a barrage of fire from the Covenant forces stationed in the next room, who seemed to have purposely unlocked the door. He beat a hasty retreat behind a crate threw a few grenades to cover his retreat, which shredded a few Jackals who could not jump away in time.
Two times in one day, he thought angrily, as grenade detonations once again shook the floor. Is this déjà vu or what? Some day I've been having, huh? As an enemy plasma grenade sailed by and nearly stuck to his armor, he immediately resolved to keep any self-chastisement until after his mission was complete. The Chief threw the crate down on the grenade and rolled away heads-over-tails, saving himself from a bloody death.
Four Carbine shots hit the Chief's shields, bringing them down to half charge. He returned fire with a barrage from his own Carbine. He targeted one Brute after another, aiming for their heads. A Brute's helmet was blown clean off with a hole through it, and it rolled along with floor with a large splotch of blood on it. Two more Brutes were dropped by the Chief's impeccable aim before he was forced to reload.
The Brutes, sensing the momentary lapse of fire, threw several grenades and opened fire in a spray of plasma blasts and Carbine projectiles. A white object flashed past the Chief's visor and detonated several feet away, rattling his teeth and wiping out another third of his shield bar. The low charge warning went off again, beeping in a high pitched tone. Before he could find some cover, two more Carbine shots hit his shield, and the warning indicator's beeping became lower and more persistent, indicating it was completely drained.
It was the Brutes' own plasma grenades that saved him, however. The grenades, which were thrown too far away to damage him, blinded the Brutes instead. The Chief grabbed some large metal object, placed it in front of him as a barrier, and drew out both his Needlers, firing through the blue flash of plasma grenades.
The Master Chief heard screams and howls as the heat-seeking needles found targets and detonated. Blood, fur and viscera flew everywhere as the Brutes were torn apart in a flurry of explosions. By the time the Needlers' clips were exhausted, all the Brutes were dead. He picked off a few remaining Jackals with well-placed Carbine shots, then doubled back to the weapons crates to restock both his Needler and Carbine ammunition stocks, reload both his weapons, and fill up on plasma grenades.
Stepping over the mutilated bodies of the Brutes and Jackals, the Chief entered the next room. It seemed to be an improvised detention block, with six rooms. An energy wall projector was in front of each room, effectively transforming the chambers into holding cells. What was most interesting to the Master Chief, however, was that the cells were occupied.
Twelve Grunts, four Elites, and a pair of Hunters were standing behind the walls of energy that sealed the rooms off. They were peering through the translucent energy, and looked just as shocked, if not more shocked, as the Master Chief himself. All of the Grunts and Elites had the silver-gray armor of the Spec Ops division.
"A Demon? Here?" said an Elite in wonder. "What in the name of the Gods is going on?" The others that used to be part of the Covenant gave similar cries of amazement.
"Listen, Demon," growled another Elite in a deep voice, who was alone in his cell. "I'll make a deal with you. We'll make a deal with you."
The Chief was taken aback by this offer, but quickly recovered his composure. "What sort of deal?"
"We-that is, the Elites, Grunts, and Hunters-will ally ourselves with you to fight these Brutes and their comrades," said the Elite simply, clicking his mandibles for effect.
"And why," retorted the Chief, "should I trust you for a second? I've spent most of my military career kill you Covenant and watching you destroy my race."
"The tables have turned, Demon," replied the Elite. "We are no longer Covenant. Free us, and we shall fight by your side."
"Right," said the Chief sarcastically. "I suppose I'll be in front, right? So you can stab me in the back?"
"Do not jest, Demon," growled the Elite. "Time is short. It is only a matter of time before the Covenant launch dropships to take the planet. The Grand Fleet is mainly a diversion-even the Fleet can not stand up against so many of your orbital defense platforms. However, you can not imagine how many ground troops the Prophet of Truth has at his disposal. We must stop the Prophet before he can carry out whatever plans he has for your planet. The Elites, as well as the Grunts and Hunters, need their revenge. I, Cura 'Canarmee, will personally lead this group."
The Chief hesitated, then grudgingly said, "Fine. But you're going in front."
The Elite nodded.
And so, the Master Chief shot the energy wall projector that was holding the alien soldier in. Half expecting 'Canarmee to charge and attack him, the Chief raised his Carbine, ready to fire.
The Elite seemed to be smiling with its four mandibles as it stared back defiantly. "You do not take an Elite on his word?"
"I could listen to your words all day, and that wouldn't make me trust you any more than I do the Brutes."
'Canarmee walked over to a Brute's body and picked up a fallen Covenant Carbine. The Chief sprang into a crouch, his finger almost pulling the trigger back.
The Elite was still smiling.