Posted By: Frensa Geran<firstname.lastname@example.org>
Date: 9 July 2003, 4:33 AM
The 8 Ball Rolls
Location: Perul City (Planet 'A')
Hundreds of Pelicans landed in the tall grassy fields just outside of Perul City, where there was very light patrol. Hundreds of Marines poured out of each ship and began running towards the burning buildings, AR's at their sides.
The Troopers were ready, each holding their own plasma rifles. There were only 22 of them, but it would be enough.
"Charge the infidels!" The Commander said, running towards the grass fields.
The battle ensued quickly; plasma fire hit dozens of marines before they could get a Trooper in their sites. Screams of agony fell across the blood stained fields. No one could find anyone; the grass was just too tall. Like Raptors, they snuck behind them quietly.
The Troopers had the advantage, activating their motion tracker, and beating each marine over the head with a growl of success.
Pelicans soared overhead, providing small amounts of machine fire to assist the battle, but many of them fell to the ground in defeat.
"Pelican Fleet, this is Sergeant Roberts, request immediate extraction!" He said over the comm., staring at his bleeding foot.
A Trooper stepped on his face hard before he could get an answer, the heavy armor squeezing ever bone to a pop. The Elite troopers took his foot off, staring into the eyes of the dead marine, and dug his fun into his brain, growling with pride.
The Marines and Troopers stopped suddenly, hearing a hissing noise from the sky, and looked up. Above them, hundreds of Long Swords were opening their bomb bays, each locking on to a Trooper. Each bomb had a mind of its own, tracking the Trooper like a cheetah, the back end blazing with smoke.
The Green Suited Troopers tried to outrun them to Perul, but made it short, each getting hit by their very own bomb. One after another, the bombs fell with a crash, setting the dry grass ablaze. It was a 6-minute battle, but already it looked like a long dead battlefield. Everyone was killed...
Location: Underground HQ (Planet 'A')
The dank and dark Fleet Commanders office was in an uproar of chatter from every Human owned planet:
"—It destroyed 'F'!?!"
"—What do we do now sir!?"
"—The Covenant have contacted Central Command on Planet 'B'-"
"—do we fight?"
The Fleet Admiral, rubbing his temples suddenly yelled "ENOUGH!"
The office fell silent as the Fleet Admiral turned to the Intel officer.
"Now, what exactly happened?" He said slowly.
"An object, about the size of this world came out of an unknown type of transportation, we're thinking artificial wormhole. After analyzing our main computer, it sent us a message." He said, pointing to a large screen, showing the message.
"It is as we feared sir, the people who created HALO have returned. We've tried contacting Guilty Spark but we couldn't get a hold of him. The Flood have taken over HALO, so the Forerunners are here to exterminate."
The Fleet Commander's eyes widened, "But how will we get out of here?"
"They have ordered us to evacuate through the HALO within 48 hours. We responded with a simple question, which we were told not to do, and so they retaliated..."
"By blowing up Planet 'F'?" Fleet Admiral responded.
The Intel Officer nodded shaking his head afterward.
"What's the status on The Chief rescue?"
"We contacted our only Under Sea station, a research station, and they're sending one of their subs on a rescue mission."
"Captain Lathrup sir..."
Location: UNSC Sub Philadelphia
"Steady as she goes Ensign, let's not arouse suspicion." The 60-year-old male captain said to his helmsmen, sipping a cup of coffee.
"Bridge to Barracks, everyone suited up out there?" He said through the speaker.
"Yes sir, just give us the signal and we're out!"
"Excellent. Helm, move us into that Loading Dock and bring up parallel to the station. We detect he's in there..."
Location: Covenant Under Water Station
The Chief dodged shot after shot of plasma, shooting his own once or twice to bide his time to think of something. He looked down through the clear glass, and saw a Ghost speeding across the Loading Dock.
"This must be my lucky day..." He said, punching the wall with his fist, smashing the glass.
Waving goodbye to the Elites smugly, he jumped off the Bridge, careening to the ground 50 feet below.
Time seemed to stop; everything went slowly forward, like a Snail. He could see the Ghost below him, and he reached out with his arms to grab the end.
His hand hit the end of the ghost hard, his body hitting the floor. With all his might he swung around, kicking the Elite in the head, knocking him off and grabbing the controls. Ahead of him was the end of the Loading Dock, a liquid like force field keeping out the water.
"Chief... Chief please respond!" Said a voice in his head.
"Chief, head through the force field, we'll meet you out there." The Voice said, fizzing out at the end.
Doing as he was told, he set full speed towards the field, smashing through it, and suddenly feeling like a million pounds. He was sinking down farther and farther through the water, black as night and empty save a few small fish, the pressures on his suit becoming un-bearable.
Then he hit something, The Sub. Looking down, he saw he'd landed on the registry:
Research and Scientific Vessel
Reg. # 7771
He stood up to see a hatch open at the top, with people in underwater suits signaling with their hands to get in. The Chief ran as fast as he could, when suddenly a burst of plasma hit the hull. 3 underwater Ghosts where coming at them at full speed. The normal sized Ghosts were given extra fins for mobility, and a stronger hull, impervious to pressure or bullets.
"Crap!" He said through the comm., running as fast as he could. He jumped inside with the rest, and closed the hatch. The Marines took off their helmets and greeted him.
"Welcome back Chief. Looks as if someone infringed on your copyright. That suite has helped the Covenant take 'A'." A Woman said.
The Chief looked astonished as he held on to a bar, feeling each pulse of plasma hit the hull.
"Other bad news as well. The Forerunners have arrived and ordered us all through HALO before they blow it up. To mean they were serious, they blew up Planet 'F'."
A tough looking black Marine pushed his way through the crowd. "The Admiral will be glad to have a chat with you about getting our home back."
"I'd be glad to help." He said raising his rifles. "I'm getting my suite back..."
Location: Planet 'M' (Prophet Council Chamber)
"What do we do? Must we leave? Or do we fight?" A Green suited prophet said.
"You saw what they did to 'F', they could just as easily do it here! We must go for the sake of our children!" A Purple one responded.
"We've beaten them before, we can do it again!" Said a black one.
"Yes, but we lost our old home world in the process. Can't we try to negotiate? Tell them that we'll help fight the Flood?"
The Gray Leader nodded his head, "Negotiation is the answer, but not with the Forerunners."
A grim shock swept across the many Prophets.
"You don't mean the HUMANS!"
"It's mad I tell you!"
"I'd rather die!"
The Gray One raised his hand quietly, "There is no other choice. A temporary alliance must occur if we are to win." He said, emphasizing temporary.
A Monitor in the center of the room lit up, a Grunt appearing, "Yes me Lord?"
"Contact Planet 'A'..." He began, before realizing they owned Planet 'A', "I mean, Planet 'B'."
The screen went blank for a moment, giving the Prophets time to whisper about the nonsense of the plan.
A Human Admiral came on the line, looking quite disgruntled.
"Come to gloat you savages?" He said.
The Prophet smiled, "We're too evolved to express our grand victory in words. But no, we have not come to gloat. The Vessel heading for HALO, it must be destroyed."
The Admiral nodded, still with an angry look in his eyes, unsure of their motives.
"Any ideas? Down here we've come up with a few plans, none good enough, or stupid enough to work. Most of our civilians have packed up and have taken the first shuttle through the Ring."
"As have ours. But before you dismiss our idea, I must tell you I have met this foe before...
=== Flashback ==
"Commander, get this ship out of here!" The Prophet screamed from the back of the Drop Ship, green balls of light flying past in a barrage of explosions.
A group of 5 Drop ships were on their way back from the battle, the giant spherical enemy still lumbered towards their planet. The Forerunners had come to destroy everyone in the sector, after their Ring was disturbed. The Command Prophets had ordered them to enter the vessel through a small tunnel and destroy it from the inside out.
"Foolish plan. We've lost the entire armada!" The Prophet screamed, staring out the back as green bolts continued to be launched.
"Sir, we can't outrun it! We must ditch the planet and head to the Home World.
The Ship stopped dead in its tracks and turned 90 degrees to the right, shooting into warp like a bat out of hell.
Inside, the Prophet breathed a sigh of relief, watching the hellish black orb disappear from view.
"SIR!!! It's FOLLOWING!" The Elite Pilot yelled.
From behind, the plethora of stars disappeared, giving way to the giant ship, black as night.
"We've lead them to the Home World. My God, what have I done?" The Prophet said, dazed.
== Present ==
"What followed I cannot say in words. We came to a halt; the Forerunner Vessel passed us by and came in orbit of our Home World. A Large blue beam came out of its side, incinerating it. This cannot happen again."
The Admiral lost the anger in his eye, and listened intently. "If you're saying it can wipe out planets, what chance in hell do WE have?"
"Our Race was not prepared, our numbers far too few. We can stop them, together."
The Admirals eyes widened, "Together? An Alliance?"
The Gray Prophet nodded profusely, "Yes, yes! Your nuclear warheads, and our Troopers can wipe out the insides! Our fighter wings of Long Swords and Banshees can take out the defenses. It would be a grand attacks!!!!" He hollered at the scream.
"Together..." The Admiral was still chanting. "I - I'd have to go over this with the Fleet Admiral, but... together." He kept saying, closing the comm. channel.
"Then it is done..."
To Be Continued...