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Halo vs Alien vs Predator - Part 1
Posted By: mastasnipa<celticpredator4ever@yahoo.com>
Date: 2 July 2005, 2:20 am
Read/Post Comments
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C1
0100, January 20, 2550 (Military Calendar)/
LV-536, Norvada System 01
Main Security Surveillance Room
Private Sean Johansen woke suddenly as the alarm above him exploded with noise, two small strobe lights began glancing over the nearby walls. Sean snapped his head up and kicked back from the security desk, nearly tipping over as he hit the opposite wall. The light from the twenty monitors shined brightly in his awakened eyes and Sean reached blindly for the intercom button just as the alarm shut off.
Sean stopped, his hand right above the round intercom button. His left hand was scratching the surface of his holstered pistol, somewhat nervously. Sean took a deep breath and lowered both hands, scooting back up to the security desk. He looked at the monitor that had caused the alarm and saw that it still showed a metal door. A guard still stood at the door, looking bored and useless. Sean took another low breath and rested his head back on the table. He'd have to notify the tech team that the security alarm had gone to hell again. Just as soon as he finished his rest.
Outside lightening flashed in the dark gray sky, shimmering on the armored hull of the Covenant Phantom. The ship tilted to the side as another lightening beam flashed starboard. The storm, along with the ship's cloaking device, was surely providing excellent cover for their insertion.
Inside the Phantom, the Elite Commando Tukamee looked at his troops. They all wore the white armor all Special Ops Covenant wore, and each suit of armor had a camo generator on the back. In each Elites' hands were different Covenant weapons, ranging from standard plasma rifles to the powerful particle beam rifles. Tukamee was pleased with his troops as they all waited silently for the ship to land. Tukamee adjusted one of the two plasma rifles he carried and grinned. He could already smell human flesh from here.
The Private's eyes fluttered as he tried to remain awake. And he would have had the door he was leaning suddenly gave way, being peeled outward. The Private yelled as the door fell away and a metal wire circled around his neck and was pulled backwards. The garrote wire quickly slid through the soft flesh and bone to come out the other side. As the Private's head rolled to the ground Tukamee stepped inside the hall, invisible with both plasma rifles raised. The other nine Elites slowly stepped in behind, all invisible except to eachother.
Tukamee pointed to the camera aimed at the door. "Rewind the tape back one minute and jam it. Don't damage it."
An Elite nodded and walked to the camera, pressing a button and rewinding it back to the ordinary image of a lazy guard and an unbroken door. He pressed another button and the tape stopped suddenly, freezing the image. "Good," Tukamee said, "these stupid humans will never realize what happened. Let's move."
Greg Burns, senior technician of the maintenance facility, pressed the button on the dispensable food box again. The machine did nothing. He hit it the picture of the sandwich again and the machine buzzed. "Damnit! Come on!" He hit the button hard and a female voice responded to the action. "This item is temporarily out of stock."
Greg groaned and turned away, walking back to his table where another tech, Don Carson, sat laughing. "You never did have much luck," Don said as Greg sat, sipping his drink.
"Nothing good about a good drink without a good meal," he said, looking back over at the vender box.
"The stuff is crap anyways man. Here, you can have this half." Don ripped off a part of his burger and handed it to Greg. "An early birthday gift." Greg smiled and took the sandwich.
Tukamee watched as an Elite slid an optic cable underneath the metal door his commando team was stationed behind. The Elite quickly looked through one side of the cable and then back at Tukamee.
"There are about twenty 'umans in there. All appear to be eating the filth they call food, and most are not armed. There are a small group of Marines in the far left corner, bored and carrying assault rifles," the Elite said, slipping the optic cable away.
"No problem whatsoever. Any cameras?" Tukamee said.
"Just one, in the corner to our right. And if the same human who is watching is the one from before than it should be no problem."
"Right. Everyone, I don't want any firing in there until I give the order. We go up against the walls and make a perimeter around the room. Understood?"
All the Elites nodded, raising their weapons. Tukamee nodded to an Elite and the alien activated the door.
Nobody seemed to notice as the door to the mess hall opened and ten shimmering, semi-invisible figures moved in. The figures stayed near the walls, moving slowly as they circled the room. One of the Marines told a joke and the other three laughed even as one of the figures drew within three feet.
Tukamee looked down at the four Marines, grimacing. The humans smelled even worse up close. Slowly Tukamee put away one of his plasma rifles and pulled out the garrote wire, clenching it between his two hands. Slowly he raised it over one of the Marine's heads and nodded to all his troops. Around the room, all the Elites aimed their weapons at individual targets.
"Now!" Tukamee shouted.
He brought the garrote wire down to the Marine's neck and pulled back, decapitating the human instantly. The other three Marines stood dumbstruck as their partner's blood sprayed over them. As Tukamee stepped forward the Elites all fired and the humans began to die.
Greg had just begun to notice something that looked like a tall heat wave when Don's chest exploded in front of him, blood spraying into the air. Greg screamed and fell backward onto the ground as blue bolts of God knows what flew across the room, striking the techs. Greg rolled under a table, spitting Don's blood out of his mouth as he got into relative safety. Around him were cries of pain as one tech after another fell.
Tukamee swiped the garrote wire sideways and cut the arm of a Marine off, causing the man to scream as his blood sprayed onto Tukamee's cloak. The last Marine saw the ghostly, bloody figure and opened up with his assault rifle, screaming as he fired. Tukamee quickly ducked under the flood of bullets and swiped the garrote wire at the Marine's leg. The Marine managed to back away and emptied his clip into Tukamee. Raising his rifle as the last of his cloak died away, Tukamee took aim and fired a single bolt into the Marine's face.
Tukamee stood, folding the bloody garrote wire in half and tossed it away. His cloak mechanism was dead, broken by the stupid human's bullets. He turned to an Elite and motioned with his hand.
"Bring me the repair kit. I need to fix this thing."
"There is a spare cloak mechanism in the kit," the Elite said. "It would be faster and easier to just use that."
"Alright," Tukamee said, taking the kit. Suddenly something hit Tukamee.
"The camera! It recorded this!"
"Do not worry Excellency," one of the Elites said. "I took care of it during the fight. It will continue to play two minute footage of the 'umans eating over and over again."
"Good job. You all may as well uncloak and allow the packs to recharge. We will need them soon."
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