Spartans Never Miss
Posted By: Hyokin<firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 7 September 2010, 5:11 pm
Spartan G071 - Harold stared through the scope of his System 99 Anti-Matériel Sniper Rifle, tweak the knobs to adjust the field of view, then exhaled. The Covenant had set up camp four miles down the mountain in a small valley in the arctic wastelands of Reach. Harold removed his MJOLNIR Mark VI SCOUT helmet and scratched his head. Beside him, Spartan G072 - Jason, laid prone. Jason was quite, but fierce. That was one of the reasons Harold worked so well with him, he could keep quite under pressure and provide powerful support in the field. While Jason himself was not as precise with a sniper rifle as Harold, Jason could use the M6C Socom magnum like no other.
They had dropped in from orbit just a few hours ago, they had been assigned to bring a piece of intellegence to ONI operatives in New Alexandria when the Covenant showed up. Now they were being sent all over the planet to eliminate the most hostile targets from a distance to soften the enemy forces for the marines to engage.
However, that had all changed in their last mission.
They slipped in undiscovered but as Harold prepared to fire on a Brute Chieftain, Jason had fallen on the loose gravel and alerted the Covenant to their location. Had it not been for Jason's quick actions and Harold's dead-on accuracy, they would have both been killed. They had managed to escape alive and with the Covenant squadren suffering major casualties.
Harold glanced down at his right arm.
They had not escaped unscathed. He had taken a round from a Brute Shot in the shoulder, which would have ripped his arm off entirely had he not been equipped with energy shields. The shock from the explosion had sent him flying into the air, he had landed hard. As he lay injured, Jason had charged the Brute, leaped onto it's hairy ass, and slit its throat with his combat knife.
They managed to get to their Warthog and high-tail it out of there before the Covenant could regroup. Still, Harold knew he was badly injured and he had refused to return to base until they eliminated the final group of Covenant they had been selected to "soften up."
Laying in the blood red and white snow, he almost regretted it. He sat up and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled. The wind blew snow flakes over his hair and sprinkled them over his exposed face. The sun was bright and the air was ice cold, yet refreshing. Harold knew he was dying. He had known that when he refused to stop for treatment. His arm was useless, bloodied and broken. He had several broken ribs and internal bleeding. Only biofoam and alot of pressure had kept him alive this long.
"I messed up." Jason spoke suddenly. Harold looked over at him, he could not see through Jason's reflective visor, but he knew the spartan was depressed. They had been working together since they had met on Onyx all those years ago and Harold could tell how he was feeling by small movements and gestures he made.
"No," Harold replied. "It was my fault for selecting that as our location."
Jason shook his head, "I should have been more careful."
"Shut up, Jason." Harold snapped, inhaling his cigarette.
Jason looked up, "Harold, I am sorry."
Harold sighed, letting the smoke out slowly. He looked at his partner.
"What happened back there, was just rotten luck. We can't all be the Master Chief. Don't worry about it, I'll take this shot and we'll get out of here." Harold smiled.
They sat in silence for a long time. Jason unsheathed his combat knife and began sharpening it on his MJOLNIR Armor's shoulder pad, something that was not particularly good for the paint, but Jason didn't care. He would rather have a sharp knife that could kill Covenant than a pretty colored shoulder. Finally, Jason sheathed his knife and removed his helmet as well, revealing his white eyes. Harold looked away, he never felt right staring at Jason's blind eyes.
Jason stared at him, "But what if you miss, Harold?"
Harold put out his cigarette and looked up at the sky, the sun was high overhead and the snowflakes danced around them in the soft silence of winter. Harold tried to move his arm, but it would not respond. He lifted his left hard and put it on Jason's shoulder.
"Spartans never miss."