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Fan Fiction


The Quick and The Dead...
Posted By: Ghalos<Ghalo113@hotmail.com>
Date: 5 August 2006, 6:28 pm


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First time writer, long-time reader. I originally had this plan to write a nice long series months ago, but never had the time. Now that I've got the summer off between classes, I decided to give it a shot, but kept it to a single short-piece. I've got an extreme lack in ability when it comes to writing dialogue, but not setting and tone. (Or so I hope! =P )



      Spartan-117 reloaded his BR-55 rifle after passing through another hatch aboard the Super MAC station Cairo. Without looking down he slipped slightly, partially due to his boot shielding, but mostly because the hallway beyond the doors was lined with blood, both Covenant and Human. Spent weapon casings added contrast to the plasma scorched plating and panels that made up the walls. The soldiers' eyes moved methodically around the vacinity, taking in details only the most battle-hardened ODST's and Marine's would see. Bullet-hole impact angles, burn angles from plasma weaponry, shatter marks from Needler rounds, it all told the story of the battle fought there. What all soldiers, novice and experienced alike, would notice were the hoof-like prints left in the blood and ash, they led through the hatch at the end of the hallway.
Deciding based on the short time with the BR-55 in his hands, he switched to his secondary weapon, the SMG carried at his side while looking around the hall for another of the aptly-nicknamed bullethoses. Satisfied with the condition of one by a dead marine, he loaded it, made sure both of the guns' safeties were off, and levelled them at the doorway at the end of the hallway. Slowly moving toward the doors, fully aware that there were at least two Elites on the other side made him focus more on the reticle in his HUD.

Closing in on the doorway his heart rate increased minutely, keeping his breathing rate normal, and his muscles slightly relaxed was the key to winning a fight from the beginning. Too relaxed, and he'd be dead, too tense, dead just the same. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, keeping his motion tracker in his peripheral vision, and his main focus on the area ahead of him.

The doors slid apart to reveal a slouching Elite no more than a meter away. Before it could react to the door opening the half-ton soldier pulled the triggers on the SMG's in his hands.

As soon as it had started, it was over. The twin weapons were at half a clip apiece, and that much warmer at the tips. The left one dropped to the floor, as the right one was reloaded. The Spartan stepped over the corpse of the Elite who wasn't fast enough. The lights in the hallway were out, which led to the realization that his motion tracker hadn't picked up the dead alien. The connection sent a slight spike of adrenalin through the soldier's vein's. Cloaked enemies were a problem for almost any soldier. Immediately he turned on the helmet-mounted flashlight, changed from a normal HUD mode to an infrared mode and focused on even the smallest changes in his vision. Weapon at the ready he swept the room searching for anything out of the ordinary.

Satisfied that the room was secure, the Spartan took a few steps further down the hallway he'd just entered, spun on his heel at the muted "clomp-clomp" behind him, and instantly killed his flashlight. The sound was muffled by metal which meant it was behind the door he'd just come from.

"This is just like on Halo" he thought, realizing he was once again, on his own. He'd have to keep his head on a "swivel".

This time however, he wasn't the one who'd be on the receiving end of a surprise attack. He'd make sure this second Elite wouldn't get past his dead pal at the doorway.

The door opened with a distortion in the air right beyond it.

The Spartan flexed his right index finger, the weapon spat rounds at the enemy soldier, impacting the energy shields around him. There was a flash of light and the human felt the heated impact of plasma on his own shielding. Knowing full well the exchange would leave him dead before his adversary, 117 sidestepped avoiding a second series of plasma bolts from the Elite and hunched behind a slight indent in the wall all while letting the SMG do it's job. Keeping an eye on his target, and on his ammo counter he realized he wouldn't be able to put the alien down before the plasma rifle it wielded did the same to him. His shield indicator pulsed weaker and weaker as plasma splashed across his vision. Deciding he'd have to end this now or retreat, he chose the former. He dove out of his ineffective cover towards the alien, sending the shield-crippling plasma bolts it had fired over his head.

He impacted with an open-handed strike to the Elite's midsection, dropping its shields to the edge of collapse, quckly following with a jab to the left shoulder, the pain forced the alien to drop the rifle to the deck, and a third punch to the Elite's face. As it stumbled back, off-balance, the Spartan saw it. He grabbed at the Elite's side holster, ripped the smooth grey tube off with a *snap*, and landed a final blow to the staggering alien's face with his right elbow, cracking the helmet it wore in the process.

The lifeless Elite slumped to the deck, right on top of his ally.

The Spartan looked down to the object he'd pulled off of the Elite, hoped it would work, and fumbled around for the controls to activate it.

*hissss*...The Spartan let a slight smile form underneath his visor.

He dropped his SMG to the floor, de-activate the Energy Sword, and attached it to his side. Pulling out his BR-55 again he focused his view on the door at the end of the darkened hallway.

He thought back to a time, when his mentor Chief Mendez had mentioned the symbolism of a coin he gave to John. He said he was the best because he was, "Fast, and deadly".

The two opponents he had just faced could attest to that.





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