Legal disclaimer:
I do not own Sierra, Valve, Half-life, Bungie, Gearbox, Microsoft and/or Halo and other related companies whatsoever.
Hidden Mantis: New chapter, more action. And less updates from me.
I think I'm starting to feel like the guy making VGcats. Except I update way less than he does.
Date: May 16, 2002
"Dyson!" barked the Master Chief just as the lift touched the lowest level. "You run ahead. I'll handle these."
Poincare sprinted to the exit left of the lift, all the while shooting a few Headcrabs setting their senses on him. He disappeared from John's view.
The Chief kicked and swatted the rest of the aliens into the sewers just below. Soon, only three Headcrabs were left on the platform.
Just as he started stomping on one like a cockroach, another lunged at him and, like a lucky few, damaged and got deflected by the Mjolnir's shields. As a sharp beeping sound was heard only by John-117's ears, the last attacking Headcrab skidded across the lift and fell into the water, taking down a companion with it.
The Mjolnir's shields died for the first time in Black Mesa, luckily as soon as the last Headcrab also died. John was relieved that Dyson wasn't able to see it happen.
I can't let civilians see me like this, the Chief thought. I'm probably the only thing left holding their mental health together.
Date: September 29, 2552
The alien grass crunched beneath Gordon's feet. Just a stone's throw away, he could see a platoon of Covenant forces checking the derelict lifeboat. He ran as swiftly and silently as he could away from the crash site.
"I think it's better if we avoid the Covenant patrol altogether," Cortana radioed to Gordon. "I don't know about you, but I'm sure you're no Spartan."
Gordon shrugged. Spartan? He thought. If Cortana was talking about the Ionians, of course Gordon wasn't a warrior. Not quite anyway. He was closer to Athenian in knowledge (Doctor of Theoretical Physics at age 27) and athletics (agile and swift). But what did Cortana really mean about 'Spartan'?
A steady-growing and satisfying hum buzzed into the Master Chief's ears, telling him his shields were back online. He let out a silent sigh. He didn't want Dr. Poincare to know that Spartans were, at the very least, vulnerable to anything. Even the soldiers of the UNSC, the men he left behind, didn't know. This secret kept the Marines' morale high enough to beat the Covenant threats even through impossible odds, and he hoped it would still work for the scientists and guards in Black Mesa.
John started to trace Dyson's footsteps. He eventually found himself in front of a broken walkway, hanging above some sewers. He tried to step on one some of the debris, testing whether it could hold his weight. Most of the bridge ended up collapsing a floor below; it couldn't support a ton of Spartan.
Suddenly, Master Chief's HUD told him something was wrong. His ears caught the sound of a human growl, far from that of a Headcrab zombie's. It was Dyson's, and the growl quickly turned into a yelp.
He's in trouble, thought the Master Chief. I better move fast.
But there was only one thing blocking his way, the gap between them: the broken bridge.
As Gordon slowly walked away from the lifeboat, away from the horde of Covenant, walking beside some boulders near a steep, 300 foot cliff face, a faint but sharp screaming sound entered his ears.
"Hide behind those rocks!" Cortana ordered Freeman. "Covenant ship patrol incoming." Gordon then jumped behind the boulders and waited.
As the screams came closer, Gordon caught a glimpse of the source; two small ships (albeit large enough to carry an Elite lying on its belly) joined the Covenant footmen in the search for human survivors.
The screams simmered down to a whisper. Gordon thought that the screaming banshees were gone, but a whirring blue bolt that hummed by and almost grazing his hears told him otherwise.
"Run like hell!!" Cortana ordered as Gordon suppressed a curse from his lips. More Banshee strafing fire razed the grass where Gordon was moments ago.
Freeman decided that wearing an orange Hazard Suit wasn't really the best camouflage within a green background. He ran up another hill, finding yet another Covenant patrol roaming these slopes. They were alerted just after the Banshee strafing runs, and all the aliens set their sights on the human in the middle of the hill, blasting plasma at him as they saw fit. Gordon did his best to mow down the Grunts in his way and dodging the Elites' shots. Nothing managed to touch him so far except for air and dirt.
Gordon managed to grab a few small blue orbs from the fallen Grunts. He thought these might be grenades of some sort. He continued sprinting toward the hilltop.
Reaching a small depression that led to a valley, Gordon dove right in and rolled most ungraciously. The grass softened his fall, but he still felt a few lumps bruising his back, even though the gravity on the ring was drastically less than on Earth.
Running down the valley, it took him a while to realize that the aliens behind him stopped shooting.
"Odd," Cortana said. "Covenant are usually hell-bent on killing humans. I wonder why they let you off the hook."
"It's probably a good thing I have you around," she said to Gordon. "Otherwise, Earth would be a lost cause by now."
John went the farthest he can go away from the gap, meeting a wall. He turned around and planted his right heel firmly on the metal barrier, his left toe analogues dug into the floor, one knuckle on the floor as well, and one hand gripping the shotgun. With a start, he sprinted across the solid floor, leaving a two-inch indent on the wall behind him. He jumped the gap, landing as graceful as a swan, almost disguising how heavy he actually was.
The force of the landing further degraded the bridge debris and the rest fell down into the waters below, scratching a Bullsquid eating some Headcrabs from the lower floors.
John ran through narrow metal hallways, eventually reaching an office complex.
I probably went through some maintenance walkways, the Master Chief thought, not wasting too much time on thinking. Dyson was still in danger, and this threat seemed larger than the rest they have encountered so far.
He didn't have to look too far, as another scientist (preoccupied with his own Headcrab problem, thankfully protected, not-thankfully by a series of live wires), told him where Dyson had been. The Chief gladly wasted one more shotgun buck for the lost scientist.
After crawling through a series of vents, electrically-charged water and a Headcrab or two, the Chief eventually reached a lobby, finding a dead Black Mesa guard. His clothes were partially charred, as if a fork of lightning hit him from somewhere in the building. John acted fast; he knew that this may be a new threat.
As Master Chief walked through numerous hallways, passing by vending machines and food dispensers, he eventually found a lone scientist, cornered by four green humanoid aliens, their arms and legs limp and fragile-looking.
"John!" the scientist cried out. "Help me out here."
The aliens left Dyson alone for a while, setting their sights on the Master Chief. Seeing him as a threat, they started walking slowly towards him.
Two bucks left, John thought. I have to make these shots count.
John strafed the aliens, seeing that they were unarmed. But what they did next caught him off guard; they started sucking the electricity from their surroundings. The lights grew a bit dim, in the corner of the Chief's eye, he saw a vending machine die out, and some of the electricity jumped onto the walls and burnt the paper.
John tried to roll away from the shots he anticipated, but the lightning was just too fast. Four green surging bolts hit him straight in the chest.
John felt slightly numbed from the first barrage; the electricity partially reached his body. He was hearing the beeping noise form earlier, telling him his shields had died again, but this time some damage actually got through.
The Master Chief did not hesitate to shoot the aliens this time. Just as the four were charging up, John fired a buck on one, toppling and taking down one behind him. He tackled another one, almost impaling it with the barrel of the Spas. As he attempted to knock two other bodies together, he pulled the trigger, taking both aliens down.
Seeing one alien writhing over the weight of its companion, Dyson went near and shot it in its huge eye.
"Thanks a bunch, John," he said, stretching his shoulders a bit. "I was feeling kinda cramped back there."
The Chief did a short autopsy, just examining the corpses where he can see them.
They had 5 limbs, two arms and legs and a third arm on their chest. It seemed that they had only one eye, but at closer inspection, John saw that it had seven more surrounding the large main eye. On its arms and legs were things that resembled chains.
"Alien slaves?" John asked aloud, his gnarled voice making Dyson flinch, the latter still being unaccustomed to it. "I wonder what caught them."
"It doesn't really matter now," Poincare said. "They were hostile, and I was about to get toasted."
"But more importantly," Poincare added, "Why do you have to keep even just a sliver of info from me?"
"What're you talking about?" The Chief asked.
"Your shields," Dyson said. "You never told me your shields could die. You should've told me. I trust you, you know."
"In the midst of this catastrophe," John retaliated, "I thought it was best if I kept that a secret."
"Come on!" Dyson rebutted. "Nobody has perfect technology. I don't believe that even in the future, they found some new tech to make people immortal. Why would they even create your UNSC if you were invincible? I even know you have some sort of motion tracker in that suit. How you acted on the top of the lift screamed 'motion tracker'."
The Chief smirked. This civilian is smarter than I thought. Theoretical physics major, plus he can analyze situations on the fly.
"Fine," John eventually declared. "You win. I'll tell you about anything you can ask about, as long as it isn't top secret."
"Great!" Dyson said. "We're a team, then?"
Team. The word rang in John's ears, remembering the heroes and brothers that he left behind: the rest of the Spartans.
"We're a team."
"Good, then," Poincare said. "Now, how do you make a space ship jump to slip space?"
A hearty laugh escaped from John's helmet. "This might take a while," he said with a smile on his face.
"Doesn't matter," Dyson said, stroking his beard. "We have a long way to go if we want out of this place."
Somewhere behind the valley walls, Gordon could hear another firefight ensuing. Screaming plasma bolts were heard first, followed by assault rifle gunfire.
"Those must be survivors," Cortana told Gordon. "We better hurry. They sound like they need some help."
Making the turn, Gordon saw that there were Marines entrenched in an alien structure. The whole building looked like some sort of beacon, launching flares once in a while into the atmosphere. In front of the Marines and right between them and Gordon, Covenant landing forces were exchanging fire. The Covies were too busy facing the Marines, and Gordon knew that this was a great opportunity to flank the enemy.
This was a great time to test out the new grenades he found. Taking them out, he fumbled and wondered on how to activate the blue orbs. Finding a small button, he decided that this was the pin-analogue he was looking for. He pressed it and threw it right onto a Grunt's head.
To Freeman's surprise, the plasma grenade stuck. The unsuspecting Grunt screamed as the hot plasma melted his skin into sticky goo. It couldn't remove the grenade, so it panicked and ran towards its squad mates. One Elite growled out an order, but the hapless Grunt continued its approach. Seconds later, a methane and plasma explosion occurred, sending about five Covenant to kingdom come.
SSgt. Fritzgrald's eyes widened as he saw the man in Orange flank the Covenant.
"Reinforcements," the sergeant declared. "Men, our ranks just got a bit tougher."
"Oorah!" yelled a few Marines in chorus. The rest were too busy shooting.
The Covenant troops soon noticed that they were being backstabbed, so one red Elite commander ordered some Grunts and one blue Elite to take care of the Orange Man.
Gordon threw yet another plasma grenade at the small squad, missing the Elite by inches. It warbled worriedly, jumped to the side in an attempt to dodge the explosion.
The blast partially covered the Elite in dirt and debris, some of the small rock fragments impaling a Grunt in the neck, its methane tank leaking.
A few assault rifle bursts and grenade explosions later, the alien structure was devoid of Covenant life.
"Dr. Freeman," SSgt. Fritzgrald called. "Are we glad to see you."
"Likewise," said Cortana from the radio.
"Ma'am, thank goodness you came along. We landed near this structure and ended up with a Covenant welcoming committee. Without Dr. Freeman, we would've been goners by now."
"No need for thanks sergeant," Cortana said. "We're here to do our job."
"Sir," a Marine reported over the comm. "We've got multiple bogeys incoming. Bandits are coming in from all sides."
"I guess resting would have to wait," Cortana said. "We better secure the area before heading on out."
Gordon didn't mind. It felt nice to have a few men beside him, fighting along the lines against the Covenant.
Hidden Mantis: And so ends another chapter of Freeman Evolved.
Merry Christmas and a Happy Hanukah to all the readers.
"Your shields," Dyson said. "You never told me your shields could die."
"Cuz if th3y didn7, 7h3y'd be H4x," said the Chief.
"Run like hell!!" Cortana ordered as she and Gordon ran out the derelict warehouse, tripping over their own feet as they attempted to run away from the lone Witch, pissed off by John's flashlight.
"Z0mg w17cH!" John yelled, shutting the door on Cortana and Gordon.
Fact: Things transported by car are called "shipments", while containers transported by ships are called "cargo". Ironic, eh?