The Lost - part 2
Posted By: A Halo Fan...natic
Date: 28 November 2004, 6:59 PM
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This is my sixth submission to the HBO Fanfic section and, although some of the others were bad, I intend to make this series different. Enjoy.
"I got a hostile at 3.2 hectometers north-northwest of my position" specialist Chris Slone said into his radio, "Permission to fire? I've got a clear shot."
"Negative corporal" came the reply from his CO; Lieutenant Scott Sutter, "Ascertain whether there are any other hostile units in the area. We don't want to have a slip up like last time." Chris grinned at that. He could clearly remember what happened the last time he had killed a target without locating all of the enemy first. And that Hunter wasn't easy to take down either..., he thought to himself.
He zoomed back out to 5x magnification on his sniper rifle. The target was an Elite standing on the second floor staircase of an apartment complex. The complex was a five-story structure with a series of platforms going up the center with apartments coming off it from two sides. Multiple staircases connected the platforms and there was a fire escape on each side of the building. The concrete was chipped as if hit by a thousand bullets but it was probably just from the natural effects of weathering. There was a large parking lot in front of it that showed signs being hit by plasma. There was a small driveway attaching the lot to the main road. There was a severely scorched warthog lying in the driveway. The area around it was particularly burned. Chris was lying prone on the roof of a similar structure about three hundred and fifty meters to the southeast. Nearly every building in sight was almost identical to the one Chris was lying on top of.
The corporal scanned the other floors of the complex but he couldn't see anything else. He zoomed back in on the Elite. He spoke into his radio again: "Sir, the area appears to be clear. Permission to fire?"
"Negative. Killing a single Elite isn't worth the trouble it would cause if you miss."
Chris sighed. The Lieutenant was too cautious. Several times, Chris had had a target and had been denied permission to eliminate it. He glanced back through the scope as he prepared to pack up the rifle when he saw something that almost gave him a heart attack.
"Sir! I've got a civilian lying on the stairs in front of the Elite! Permission to fire!?!" he yelled into the radio.
There was a pause. "Are you sure?" came the reply.
"Yes, I'm sure!" he yelled back, "Goddamnit! There's no time!" He sighted on the Elite and pulled the trigger.
* * *
Sergeant Williams lay on the staircase in front of the Elite. The creature's mandibles were pulled up in a grotesque expression that the sergeant guessed was an alien version of a grin. Its plasma rifle was leveled at his head. He had a strakkaker and a 9mm parabellum in his hands but if he knew that if he tried to raise them the Elite would fire. He knew he was going to die. There was no question about it. There was nothing that could get him out of this situation. He closed his eyes and relaxed. Might as well die with a little dignity, he thought. There was an enormous bang and he opened his eyes.
The Elite's mandibles were completely torn off and he could just barely pick out a vapor trail. The sergeant felt a sudden wave of Déjà vu. What the hell?, he thought to himself, This is almost exactly like on Fomalhaut. There was another bang and a round went straight through the Elite's head. It fell to the floor lifeless.
Williams gave a sigh of relief and stood up, waving his right hand in the air.
* * *
Chris Slone stared at the civilian with the strakkaker standing in front of him. There was something odd about him. He wasn't sure what though. It wasn't the fact that he was two feet taller than him (He was probably a belter: people raised in low gravity tended to be taller than average humans). It wasn't the fact that his left arm was mechanical. It probably had something to do with the fact that - according to his story - this single forty-two year old retired Marine sergeant had taken out an Elite, three Grunts, and a Jackal all on his own. With only a strakkaker and a sidearm.
"So, let me get this straight" Chris said, "You killed nearly an entire squad of Covenant with that old piece of shit?". The sergeant nodded affirmatively. "But they stopped making those ten years ago."
"Fomalhaut was an outer colony world. We didn't receive the shipments of MA5Bs until it was too late."
"Well, you still don't hold rank yet. We'll need to get you to an outpost so that you can be officially reinstated."
Williams' face looked pained. "Is this really necessary?" he asked.
"Yes, now let's get back to the rest of my squad..."
* * *
Open file: Fleet_statistics/Locations.dat
ACESS DENIED. Incorrect password.
Run program: Pass_search.prg
Searching...
Searching...
Found.
Enter: WhAt_Do_YoU_gEt_WhEn_YoU_mUlTiPlY_sEvEn_By_NiNe?? FoRtY-tWo.
ACESS GRANTED
Security test failed. Information secure for: 4.7 miliseconds. Unaceptable. Reassessing detection programs. Run defense diagnostics...
Subroutine 67.a45B run question: "Who the Hell came up with that shitty password?" through main search engine...
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