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Halo 2: Uprising - Chapter 7
Posted By: Mad Max<madmax6251991@hotmail.com>
Date: 1 February 2008, 3:04 am
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Chapter 7
UNSC Frigate In Amber Clad, in orbit above Earth
October 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)
*FLASHBACK*
The images kept rushing back to him in waves, each different from the last, but all interlinked. Somehow, some way, these disturbing sequences he saw were all connected. Yet at the same time, he felt like he was having an out-of-body experience, watching his body go through the motion while his eyes hovered above all the action.
One moment the images of his fallen brothers and sisters he had considered family came to him. Next followed his shock at seeing his commanding officer for the last time, the inevitable death of his superior playing like a broken record. Slamming his fist into the captain's brain, feeling the gore and decayed brain tissue on his hand...it made him feel like an animal. Strange as that felt to him, he loved the primal feel it brought to him.
He found himself walking through a mental hospital, with two male patients wearing red and black facepaint waving their arms back and forth, the thumb and index fingers on their hands forming a pistol. He was behind a pane of glass, and they were in a room on the other side. They turned at him and grinned with evil toothy smiles.
Then without warning, the two men leaped through the glass and on top of him. Suddenly, the red and black facepaint disappeared and was replaced with horrible skin mutations growing out of the side of their faces. He tried to fight back, but was armorless. They wailed at him with fists which gradually, he realized, turned into tentacles with three whips. They looked almost like the Flood. He felt the tentacles cut into his flesh as light began to fill his vision.
John-117 shot awake from the bed, grabbed the M6C he had on the table next to the bed, and aimed it straight ahead. He was drenched in a cold sweat, panting erractically. His eyes were still trying to get rid of the bluriness, but the immediate exposure to the overhead light fixtures made it difficult. A tall figure with a cap stood before his bed, a small circle flaring then fading near the mouth.
His grip on the trigger loosened as the figure sharpened and his eyes became normal; it was Sergeant Johnson, smoking one of his cigars.
"Christ, Chief, watch where you point that thing!" he exclaimed. "Damn near scared the shit out of me."
"Sorry," the Spartan replied, lowering the weapon and throwing it against the wall, cursing himself for looking like an idiot. Unusual even for him, he realized. "Had a nightmare, that's all. I'm good now, though."
The Master Chief swung his legs to the side of the bed and stood, wearing only a pair of underwear. He stretched his arms all around to get rid of the kinks. Johnson just stood there motionless until the Chief met his gaze. Interestingly enough, he didn't appear concerned about the Chief taking his anger out on him.
"What's up?" John asked.
"The commander told me to come wake you up. We're about to go to ground and fight the bastards head-on." Johnson removed the cigar, exhaled a cloud of smoke, then put the cigar back between his teeth. "ETA til go-time is thirty minutes. Commander says to meet me in Pelican Bay 03."
The Chief nodded. Five minutes to shower, fifteen minutes to suit up, ten minutes to get down there, he thought.
Sergeant Johnson also nodded and march out of the room, the sounds of him yelling at some unseen Marine fading as he proceeded further down the corridor.
The Master Chief glanced at his MJOLNIR Mark VI armor hanging on a rack directly in front of him, then he walked to the adjoining head. Commander Keyes had given John her private quarters for the time being until it was time to go to ground. He was thankful for this, because not only could he get some sleep, but also take the time to shower.
He paused in front of a mirror suspended above the sink to look at his face, which to him, felt like ages since he'd last seen it. His hair had started to creep towards his ears, but lacking a means of cutting it, John left it alone. His skin was unnaturally pale, but he couldn't do anything about that either.
The Master Chief removed his underwar and stepped into the shower. He turned on the cold water, thus shocking the rest of his body into a rude awakening. He let the cool stream wash over him and for the first time in months, he felt a sense of serenity.
Until Major Antonio Silva came into his head, calling him and his fallen comrades "freaks." John once again felt a surge of anger, his features tightening into a scowl. He looked down, then up at the ceiling, then directly in front of him.
Freaks. The word kept repeating in his head, and then John punched the linoleum tiles on the wall, causing them to fragment and shatter as the force of his augmented fist crashed into the wall. At least that fucker got what he deserved...even though he was only doing his job, he thought.
The Chief shut the shower off, and grabbed a towel from the rack by the sink. He dried himself off thoroughly and tossed the towel onto the floor.
John began to assemble the MJOLNIR armor, starting with the legs, then gradually working upward until everything but his helmet was on. He had self-trained himself to remove and put on the armor by himself in case an emergency arose. The Chief thought back to his second visit to the Pillar of Autumn, when a Flood Infection form had managed to penetrate the seal on the back of his neck, and how he had almost succumbed to the virulent species. Cortana had saved his life by drawing power from the electrical systems in his suit to shock the Infection form, thereby killing it. He had done temporary repairs to the seal before continuing on.
The helmet was the final piece to the warrior's puzzle and he slid it into place over his head. The HUD slowly flickered to life, and everything checked out as normal.
"Finally," Cortana said with a hint of impatience. "I was wondering when you would come around."
Her voice served to soothe him and he replied, "Well, I'm here now."
"Good. Now, while you were out, I managed to find out some details about where we're headed."
"Let's hear it." The Chief started walking out of the room to the nearest elevator, M6C in hand.
"The Covenant have landed in east Africa, in what used to be the country of Kenya. They've taken hold of New Mombasa, which seems to have been the center of their attention. A large taskforce of Marines have been ordered to retake the city, and capture the Prophet of Regret."
John stepped into a large elevator and the doors closed. "Sounds like a plan. Let's hope the Covenant cooperate with us."
The elevator started to descend.
*END FLASHBACK*
The Master Chief stood at the lip of the Pelican dropship's landing ramp, staring out at the dirty ocean and sky that trailed behind him. In Amber Clad hung somewhere above the Pelicans, keeping an eye on the other Covenant assault carrier that hovered above New Mombasa. John had seen the carrier's gravity lift activate as he had boarded the dropship; no doubt it was deploying troops.
"The message just repeats," Cortana said to Commander Keyes on the COM. "'Regret, Regret, Regret.'"
"Catchy.Any idea what it means?" the commander asked.
As the dropships approached the outskirts of the African city, passing over a fleet of Warthogs, Sergeant Johnson spoke: "Dear Humanity...we regret being alien bastards. We regret coming to Earth.
"And we most definitely regret that the Corps just blew up our raggedy-ass fleet!"
From somewhere within the cockpit, as well as through his speakers, the Chief heard the pilots yell "Hoo-rah!" John shook his head, and couldn't help but crack a rare smile at Johnson's smart-ass sense of humor. It helped pep him up, putting his mind into a state of alertness.
"Regret is a name, Sergeant," Cortana corrected. "The name of one of the Covenant's religious leaders: a Prophet. He's on that carrier and calling for help."
The Pelican trio began to sweep into the more industrialized parts of the city. Apartments, hotels, houses, and restaraunts began to appear. The road stretched beneath as various UNSC vehicles moved into predesignated positions.
Corporal Marcus Dominic and Private Shelby Martinez chatted back and forth until the sounds of three Pelian dropships started roaring to their southwest.
Corporal Dominic was a sniper and Private Martinez was his spotter. The pair had fought and survived many ground engagements since the early days of the Human-Covenant War and had even avoided capture and death on four occasions.
They laid prone on top of a four-story apartment building, with Dominic's SRS99C-S2 sniper rifle propped up on the lowest part of the building's perimeter. Martinez's binoculars were set on a tiny tripod, adjusted to his eye level. The pair had been talking to pass time, but their eyes never left their sector. Supposedly, there had been reports of a new Covenant weapons platform in the area, but no such weapon had been seen by them. A few of the privates in his platoon had mentioned encounters with this new platform, but its name was unknown. If those Marines were to be believed, though, the weapon was capable of massive destruction.
On occasion, there were large tremors that shook the building, and it wasn't mortar fire. That much the sniper pair knew.
For this reason, with caution and paranoia as the main motivators, Corporal Dominic tracked the COM signal of the lead Pelican and reported in: "Charlie-143, Grid Kilo Two-Three is possibly hot and dangerous, but no telling for sure. Recommend mission abort regardless."
The pilot, Lieutenant (J.G.) Matthew Peters, picked up the signal of the nearby sniper team and hit the call button: "Roger, recon." He released his thumb and craned his head to Sergeant Johnson. "It's your call, Sergeant."
Johnson took a puff of his cigar, and pointed to the dropship's windshield. "We're going in." The African-American sergeant looked over his shoulder through the open frame that led into the troop bay. "Get tactical Marines!"
Charlie-143 was now about 150 feet above the highway, cruising at normal speed but ready to bank off in case of attack. Behind the Master Chief, the seated Marines were thumbing the safeties to the 'off' position on their battle rifles and submachine guns; the sniper in the squad loaded a fresh magazine into the chamber of the S2 sniper rifle. The other two Pelicans, Echo-669 and Delta-232, trailed slightly behind Charlie-143, Echo a little to the Chief's left and Delta to the Chief's right. They were cruising neck and neck, almost as though the pilots of each dropship were racing. Delta-232 pulled ahead of Echo-669 and got behind Charlie-143. Echo was now behind Delta, forming a straight line.
Fleet Admiral Lord Hood broke in just then: "Master Chief, get aboard that carrier, and secure the Prophet of Regret. This is the only place on Earth the Covenant decided to land." He paused. "That Prophet is going to tell us why."
Lieutenant Peters crooked his head over his right shoulder back toward the troop compartment. The whine of the engines made it difficult to speak, so he had to yell. "Thirty seconds out! Stand by to..."
He heard a mechanical sound originate from in front of him, and he turned back. "Woah..."
Before him was a massive walking tank of sorts emerging around the corner of a tall building. It looked like a large gigantic spider missing four of its legs. It was purple, just like all the other Covenant vehicles in their arsenal. Despite being mechanical, the two front legs looked like they had actual joints; a cyan circle glowed brightly at the bottom of the leg. It had two arches on its "back", resembling the top of a ladder's handles.
John turned around, having found the lieutenant's sudden drop off in mid-sentence worrying. His hand instinctively touched the butt of the M6C, currently residing in his thigh holster until he drew it. He gripped it tightly in his hands. He felt a chill run down his spine as he looked through the frame into the cockpit, through the window.
Whatever that is, he thought, it's about to make things alot more complicated.
The walking Covenant tank crushed a truck beneath its left front leg, causing an explosion that was lost in the roar of the Pelican engines. A cyan-green eye on the front of the tank came to life, and a bright blue stream of plasma surged out in a continuous stream.
The cockpit was hit, shattering the windshield and the side windows instantly. Lieutenant Peters never felt a thing, and neither did his co-pilot; they vanished and melted instantly from the heat. Because of this, the Pelican was no longer in control and it veered off to the left before it reached the Covenant tank.
A plasma turrent on the back of the walking tank started to fire at Echo-668 and Delta-232, but they narrowly dodged the streams of plasma as they disappeared behind buildings on their respective side.
In the troop compartment, the Chief had latched his fingers into one of the seats, gripping as hard as he could as the Pelican spun end over end He saw two Marines get sucked out of the back and disappear below him. When the Pelican was upside down, he lost his grip on the seat and flew towards the cockpit, hitting to the left of the frame. He looked out the back, noticing the Pelican rapidly descending toward what looked like a low building. He couldn't get a good view out the front due to the laws of physics pinning him against the interior of the troop compartment.
The remaining Marines hung on for dear life as the Pelican touched down harshly onto the building. The Master Chief heard a loud crack, and saw a couple of bricks fly past him into the troop compartment. One hit a Marine with such force that it decapitated him and threw him from the opening.
The dropship started to rotate and was slowly losing speed, but still had enough to throw the Chief and the rest of the Marines out the back and over a ledge. The Chief blacked out.
"Holy fucking shit!" Private Martinez exclaimed, raising his head above his binoculars. "Is that what I think it is, sir?"
"You thought right, Shelby," Corporal Dominic replied. He stood fast, grabbing his sniper rifle. "That is, in fact, a Scarab." He started running for the maintence door that led down to the stairway.
"C'mon, Marine!" Marcus yelled. Private Martinez was now standing, staring at the Scarab as it turned toward their position. The eye began to pulse and Shelby turned and started sprinting after Dominic, who was now standing beyond the door.
The Scarab's "eye" let out a blast of plasma at the building.
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