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Classic CTF
Posted By: hesthefastest<hesthefastest@hotmail.com>
Date: 30 August 2005, 11:25 am


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0422 Hours, August 30, 2527
Reach Spartan Training Facility
Personal account of Spartan GT: hesthefastest

As the world slowly materializes around me, I realize I am in another simulation. The Bigwigs down at command thought it would be a good exercise to just plug us in while we slept, throw us right into battle so to speak. No big deal for the most part, but the hook-up always leaves this tingling feeling at the back of your neck. When you are not expecting it, it can be quite jarring. Well, the game starts and I'm off. Classic CTF, pretty good, pretty classic. Each team has a flag; the opposite team has to bring it to their base, not very complicated. However, if a combatant touches their own flag, it instantly returns to its safe spot. With the flag touch return, it really shows a level of skill to capture. It also necessitates players switching between offence and defence through the entire game. Also, it can make for some hair raising last second saves.

After I take a couple of steps, I realize I don't really know where I'm going. This is one of them new and updated maps from FleetCom. I recognize the remains of what was once Longest, I loved that map. Well, no matter, when you aren't sure where you are going, just head for higher ground. I run up an enclosed ramp and roundabout to my left. Glancing down the length of the level, I see no obvious enemy activity. Guessing some symmetry to this map, I figure they are mostly on the left side, out of my view. I suddenly remember the updated name, Elongation. Kind of strange if you ask me. Staying put for a second, I examine all the changes. The most obvious is a conveyor belt running the length of the floor, carrying cargo boxes. I assume there is another one on the other side, running the other way. That should make for some interesting engagements. I also notice the complete absence of ladders, testing didn't favour them. Instead, it has ramps everywhere. For the best, I guess. Snapping out of my critique, I notice an enemy Spartan crouching behind one of the boxes, letting the belt take him down the line. Sneaky bastard!

I realize that there is a fight on and I don't have time to smell any roses. There is something truly marvellous about being a Spartan. In the heat of battle, time slows down to a crawl. Decisions can be made slowly and strategically. People will say that my incredible reflexes simply kick in, spinning my mind into overdrive, giving the illusion that time is slowing down when I am simply running numbers that I have run a million times and thoughts are automatic. Whatever, I like the concept of controlling time. I slowly examine my surroundings. I carry a Sub-Machine Gun in my hand, small, caseless and deadly. Its nickname is Bullet Hose and its well deserves. It can spew sixty bullets in several seconds. It will serve me well, but I would rather have more firepower. Looking around, I notice a plasma pistol a couple metres off. Wielding the plasma pistol at my feet with my left hand, I gently squeeze the trigger down, charging up an immense ball of energy on the end of my gun. The pistol is of alien make, always useful to know how to use enemy equipment. It's shaped like a small circle half a foot in diameter, with a small break underneath the firing port. It fires superheated plasma in small portions, though it truly shines when it is overloaded. It can fell an entire personal shield of an enemy. I track the enemy under my feet. He is in a prone position between two ledges that effectively form a canyon. He doesn't have much of a chance. I wait for the box to pass under me, watching the motion sensor to make sure he doesn't make a run for it. Gripping my Sub Machine Gun hard in my right hand, I push myself over the edge. Before my feet touch the ground, my guns have done some talking. With his shield down, and gut being torn up by my M7, he didn't have to listen long. With one enemy down, I duck to my left, jumping and turning at the last second to scan for enemy movement down the line. Nothing.

I see that my teamates have left the defence of our flag entirely to me; I guess the sudden wake up has affected their strategy somewhat. Nonetheless, it is my responsibility, so I jump on a couple of crates and hop onto the high ledge, overlooking our flag. I see a shotgun at my feet. Normally, I have a rule against using them, much too unreliable, but since I have nothing as my secondary weapon, I pick it up. I stash it immediately, dual wielding my pistol and SMG.

I wait. Waiting is not my strong point. There is just something deep inside of me that demands that I rush headlong into battle, no matter what the circumstances. It has left me lying on my back many many times but it has also made for a very confused enemy when I switch my SMG for their rocket launcher. The impulse has made me a lesser soldier in most circumstances, so I make sure to control myself, even when I see my team grab the enemy flag on my Heads Up Display.

I do move up however, looking for any moment where my presence is needed, any excuse to give in to my bloodlust. Before I know it, red Xs pop on my HUD and I'm alerted that the enemy flag is returned. I keep telling people, with touch return, dashing in like an idiot doesn't work. Crap! Now, three enemy Spartans are heading my way. I back off toward our flag. A Spartan going by the name of Jingles jumps through the middle structure onto the ledge I'm on. I let fly. A full ball of energy flies off towards him, with its homing ability, that's a sure hit. But at this distance, my SMG is firing too erratically. I close the distance, tearing through his health. A little too late, I notice the large shotgun in his hand. He fires a shot; the force of the blast nearly knocks me over. I'm standing on the brink of annihilation and all I can do is hold the trigger down. Fortunately, he falls over before releasing another shot. "Just too unreliable" I mutter to the both of us. I take the second to grab his shotgun shells and make my way back.

Two other enemy units turn around a wall, heading straight for my flag. The first is hell bent on getting our flag, while the other is looking around, acting as escort to the would-be flag carrier. The impulse to the jump down and give them hell rushes over me. "No way are they gonna touch my flag" runs through my head. I just manage to control myself, that is not the smart thing to do. I am outnumbered and without a shield. I choose the smarter play. I crouch and wait for my shield to recharge, nursing another shield debilitating ball of energy on my beloved plasma pistol.

They set their hands on my flag just as my shield returns to me. I hop down, behind them both, setting my sights on the escort. With a ball of energy hitting him squarely in the back, I tear into him. Even though I hit him hard, we are about evenly matched, he has a Battle rifle and a very decent shot. With two sprays of three shots, my shield goes down at the same moment he does. And not a moment too soon, another bullet would have meant my life. Laying the same treatment on the escaping flag carrier, I'm looking pretty good. But he's smart; he knows I'm weak from the fight with his escort. Unable to fire a weapon with the burden of the flag, he throws it ahead of himself, turns around and finishes me off with small arms fire.

As my simulated vision drifts over my dead body, I can do nothing. But lady luck smiles on me, me dead comrades have since respawned and are in full pursuit of the flag. By the time I am alive again myself, all I hear over my Com is a friendly named EliteSniper taking credit for ensuring the safety of the flag. I have had enough experience with bickering teamates to know not too dig into him too hard. Instead, I inform him that since he is so skilled, he should take over defensive positions. Switching my stowed shotgun for a grenade launcher, I throw the unreliable weapon to him. Not looking down upon a fully loaded shotgun, he complies. The grenade launcher is heavy in my hands, designed for a much larger alien. Usually referred to as a brute shot, it matches its name quite well. In addition to the four grenade load, it also has a wicked blade attached to the butt of the weapon. It can literally chop a man in half. "I'm going offence" I state rather than ask.

Where I was pretty relaxed for the past few minutes, now my heart is pounding. Of course, being a Spartan, any fluctuation in my heart rate more than a few beats per minute is unheard of, that is most definitely a figure of speech. I need to form a plan. Once again scanning the area, I notice some more features of the newly redesigned map. There is a hole in the main center wall that would allow me to slip through to the other side, but that would leave me on the bottom level. I would not be able to use my weapon effectively. No, I really need to keep my elevation. Also, this map is symmetrical. Understanding this, I know there must be an enclosed ramp leading down to their flag. The confined spaces would be ideal for a couple of launched grenades. I queue up my Team Com. "Two people hang back for some solid D, I need a Spartan to follow the right wall to the end then rush in guns blazing. I'll give you support from on top". A reassuring 'Got it covered' comes over the Com. Good, though I can only hope that the two will stay on defence.

I hurry forward, keeping an eye out down the line. A couple of hops and seconds later, I'm sitting at the top of the enclosed ramp, gun pointing down. "Now to get their attention". I lob a glowing plasma grenade down, a little bit too close to their flag than they are probably comfortable with. Probably assuming I am going to rush in, two enemy Spartans breach the end of the ramp. I let fly. Not really needing to aim, four grenades come flying out of my gun. The first bounces off the ground and explodes a half second later, a couple feet past them. My second and third shots both connect on the Spartan leading the charge. He goes down. Sensing the danger of his position, the remaining enemy ducks back around the wall. On my Heads Up Display, I notice my support coming in perfectly. The icon above his head tells me is both giving and taking damage. There must be a third defender. No matter, he takes care of him. Now is the time to move. Bolting down the line, I exit the enclosure to see the last remaining defender engaging my partner. I see my opening and I take it. Taking a couple of steps forward, I lift my gun with all my strength, pointing it upward to bring its deadly blade to bear. With a tremendous upward slice, my enemy is torn asunder.

With the defenders gone, we make quick work of grabbing the flag, only a matter of time before we have to deal with them again. I make sure to survey the area one more time before falling in step behind the flag carrier. He grabs the enemy flag and rushes off, jumping on the moving conveyor belt, increasing his speed. His name pops on my HUD: RedSky. "Keep goin' Red, I got your back" I send over the Com. It's a proven fact that slight encouragement makes flag carriers run faster. It did not take long for his back to need cover. Further down the line, I notice an enemy attacker coming from the direction of our base, most likely turning around to stop the progress of his flag. I'm in a tight spot; the flag carrier is between me and the enemy. My grenade launcher would be hard pressed to kill him without seriously injuring my partner, and he still needs cover from behind. I chime up my Com, "Defenders, meet us half way!" That should get them running.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a red dot appear on my motion sensor; two defenders have respawned and are headed our way. I jump onto a nearby crate that has been making the journey with us, turning around and levelling my gun. As soon as they appear from around the corner, I empty my clip. I honestly do not know how much hit, but I know it was either two options: they took a load of damage or they hid. Since all I really need to do is stall them, both options are good. While reloading, I fall backwards off the crate and hid behind it. I notice my comrade with the flag taking hits, but I have more important things to worry about. Hopefully, the rest of my team will shoulder the burden. With my last four grenades dumped into the firing chamber, I jump back on top of the crate. Emptying once more my weapon, I manage to take down another enemy, leaving me with one enemy and no bullets. I know when I'm overmatched, so I fall back once again off the crate, placing a couple of plasma grenades on either side of it. I turn tail and run, seeing the flag carrier killed by the returning attacker. He cannot touch that flag! I sprint towards the flag and the defender, holstering and switching my gun. There is very little I can do, I don't have enough time to kill him with a single SMG. In the very second before the enemy can touch, and thus return, the flag, he takes several hits in the back from a Battle Rifle. Combined with my SMG, it is just enough. I don't question it; I simply pick up the flag and get going. Carrying a flag while running is tough, no matter how you hold it, you can never get the same speed than without it.

With my speed hampered, an enemy is catching up to me. I jump up and over a crate, receiving more than half a clip of small arms fire in the back. I finally spot my support falling in from the direction of our base. One of them is holding a Battle Rifle; he must have given the help a couple of seconds ago. Hopefully, he'll continue to be such a help. With half my shield down, and an enemy closing in, I have an important decision to make. I can try to make a run for it, try to reach my comrades or I can wait and fight. These are one of those situations where I know the right answer yet neglect it. As soon as I am over the crate I freeze, letting the track take me on. Assuming I had done the right thing, the enemy hot on my trail follows me over the crate. He jumps over top of me. Seeing his mistake, he tries to turn around but it is too late. The blunt end of a flag to the base of the neck can be a very rough thing to take; apparently, he was not up to the challenge.

All resistance dead, a hop and a skip from the score point, and two escorts following me, I was free and clear. I didn't make a big production of it, but it's not like I had to rush. I counted the steps, twenty steps and I was standing over my flag. I reach my hand out and place the flag on the electronic receptacle. These last couple of minutes have seemed like a lifetime, with life and death decisions and harsh combat around every corner. But I came out on top, and the scoreboard proves it.





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