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The Battle of Berlin Colony
Date: 27 June 2003, 1:44 AM

Tuka Hanamee had served in the Covenant military ever since he was a young Elite. His first series of battles had been a hell, but after they had ended, Hanamee developed a taste for battle. Always leading troop units, the Prophets loved Hanamee and were constantly sending him messages of congratulations.
Before every battle, Hanamee would polish his crimson armor, knowing that some human pest's name was on one of his yet-to-be-fired plasma bolts.
During his fighting days, Hanamee received a scar when a human explosive projectile slammed into Siraku, a Hunter that Hanamee knew very well. The explosion hit the Hunter's fuel rod cannon, causing it to explode. Orange blood sprayed all over Hanamee, turning his crimson helmet a bright orange color. Followed closely after the blast, a piece of shrapnel stuck itself right into Hanamee's face, melding the bright orange into his skin.
The humans now called the Elite, "Scar" because of the permanent orange streak that ran down his face. Hanamee was now feared among all the humans. Marines would scatter in terror at the mention of his name.
Hanamee became famous throughout the Covenant military.
All of this was a blur now.



"Move up! Move up, damn it!" Sergeant J. Cancuri shouted as a screaming hail of plasma bolts cut down the line of marines in front of him.
His men had been fighting here for way to long.
"The Berlin outer colony's not worth it," he muttered to himself. "This is freaking crazy."
A battle-worn marine stood up and pointed out into the mass of fighting troops.
"Sergeant, a few of the men have reported seeing Scar out there, sir," he said. "A few of the men are retreating because of this rumor, sir. I suggest we do something about it."
"You damn right we should, soldier," Cancuri said.
The sergeant turned around and grabbed the arm of his radio man.
"Davis!" he barked.
"Yes, sir!"
"Radio that unit of recon snipers we have on that bombed out stratosphere tower and tell them to be on the look out for a silver-armored Elite with an orange scar down its face.
"Sir, yes, sir!"



A small squad of Grunts chattered nervously in front of Hanamee.
"What in the name of the gods are you all doing?" he shouted.
"Many apologies, exalted one," a red armored Grunt said. "I will take my squad into battle."
"You had better, you small and insignificant speck, or you will answer to the butt of my rifle!" Hanamee barked. "Now get out there die for your gods instead of sitting around here chattering like cowards."
The squad of Grunts ran out into the battle.
Hanamee withdrew his electronic binoculars and zoomed in on the squad. A stray human rocket landed right in the middle of the squad sending the bodies of Grunts and their limbs flying into the air. However, the small and lazy red-armored Grunt had survived. He began to run back in Hanamee's direction.
The Elite looked around to see if anyone was looking before he shot the retreating moron.



Cancuri ducked a green plasma rifle charge.
"Davis, call central command and tell them we're going to get the hell out of here!" he yelled.
Davis nodded nervously and tuned to the central command's channel.
"Central command, central command, this is fire team Hawkeye. Casualties are high. Send in Pelicans for retreat. I repeat, send in Pelicans for retreat."
"Roger, fire team Hawkeye, we are sending in Pelican drop ships," a voice responded.
"Roger, central command."
Cancuri looked around in disbelief at the carnage. To him, it was a step closer to Earth for the Covenant. The closest colony over was the Charon colony, and reports of Covenant battleships being spotted had already flowed in on Earth. To Cancuri, Armageddon was a thing of the near future.



Hanamee quickly glanced in the humans' direction. With his binoculars, he saw a small and puny marine talking on what seemed to be a very primitive radio. The elite fired a plasma bolt in his direction.



Cancuri looked over the battlefield and saw that the results were going to be devastating.
"Davis!" he shouted.
No answer.
"Davis, you idiot!" he yelled again, and turned around.
He quickly realized why Davis had not answered him.
Davis's body lie on the ground, a smoking hole where the radio operators face used to be.
"Jesus..." the sergeant said to himself.
Suddenly, the rattle of a Grunt's breathing equipment startled Cancuri. He whipped around, and shot an M6D round right into the little creature's face. The Grunt gasped and collapsed.
"They're right on top of us," the sergeant said. "God help us."



Hanamee took off at a sprint, leading the twenty Jackals and thirty crimson-armored Elites behind him.
"When we push through the last defensive line of the humans, we will wait for their drop ships! We will then hijack one of the vehicles and have it fly us to the central command outpost!" Hanamee shouted back. "Jackals! Push forward!"
All of the Jackals pushed ahead of the group of Elites and formed a wall of protection with their shields for the advancing force.
A few bullets began to bounce from the shields before the advancing Covenant was even close to the humans.
Hanamee stopped two Elites running next to him.
He pointed to a bombed out stratosphere tower.
"Do you see that tower?" he said. "I have seen bullets rain on our troops from that position. The two of you will take four other troops with you and eliminate the snipers that occupy that location."
The ten Elites took off in the tower's direction.



Cancuri nearly wet himself when he saw the huge squad of Elites and Jackals moving in his direction.
"Squads one and two! Move up here and set up a fourth defensive line," he shouted back to some marines.
They moved and formed a line, ready to fire. Off in the distance, screams of terror and agony could be heard, as the first defensive line was ripped to bits by plasma fire.



Cancuri nearly wet himself when he saw the huge squad of Elites and Jackals moving in his direction.
"Squads one and two! Move up here and set up a fourth defensive line," he shouted back to some marines.
They moved and formed a line, ready to fire. Off in the distance, screams of terror and agony could be heard, as the first defensive line was ripped to bits by plasma fire.



Marine sniper/spotter Carl Lockland pointed out a silver-armored Elite.
"Hey, isn't that Scar?" he asked.
Sniper Dave McBride zoomed in with his scope.
"Damn right it is," he said. "I'm taking this legend down, Carl."
But before the sniper could do anything, the sound of plasma fire rang out and Lockland's brains splattered against the side of McBride's head.
McBride felt a strong grip take the back of his uniform and pull up.
The sniper looked into the eyes of a cobalt colored Elite. Behind the Elite, ten others stood, watching.
The ruthless Covenant troop tossed the sniper, screaming, from the tower.



Hanamee proudly surveyed his squad's accomplishments. Only a few dead Elites and Jackals lay in the squad's charging path. The humans' first, second, and third defensive lines had been reduced to a red pulp and Hanamee's troops were currently working on the fourth line.



"Take that you alien freaks!" a marine shouted as one of his rockets blew a few Elites to pieces.
Sergeant Cancuri patted the demolitions expert on the back and then began to wade through the carnage to a building's skeleton. Just as the sergeant reached the rubble, he heard the scream of what had been the last marine of the defensive line.
A whole swarm of Jackals surrounded him in a circle.
Cancuri gulped in terror as the Scar strode over to the group of Jackals.
Now, some Elites began squeezing into the circle.
The Elite with the scar barked a short growl and every troop opened fire on Sergeant James Tyler Cancuri.

Attack on Central Command
Date: 28 June 2003, 7:36 PM

Pelican pilot Rita Froman made a hard right into the city area. The carnage below was unbelievable. Twisted human and Covenant corpses alike lie on top of each other. Red, blue, and purple blood mixed together to make large puddles of blackish liquid. Collapsed buildings had smashed tanks and people. It was damn mess. Red, blue, and purple blood mixed together to make large puddles of blackish liquid. Collapsed buildings had smashed tanks and people. It was damn mess.
On top of a skyscraper, Rita spotted four marines flagging her down with a shiny mirror, that when the sun hit, set off a bright reflection of light. Their features became more distinctive as the Pelican neared their position more and more.
Finally, the drop ship made a nice hovering land and the troops hopped in.
"Welcome aboard, gentlemen," Froman greeted over the ship's intercom. "We're going to see if we can't find anymore survivors. So far, the battle seems to be a stalemate."
The Pelican went into a hover right over where Sergeant Cancuri said he would be. Rita lowered the ship until it was inches off of the ground.
One of the marines in the back of the Pelican shouted, "Sergeant Cancuri? Are you there, sir? Froman, we're going to hop out and see if we can't find him."
"Be careful, marines," Froman warned.
The four soldiers hopped from the Pelican and began to walk on top of the corpses. The small group of four consisted of Ryan, MacDonald, Gray, and Wilson. The four of them had been in the same platoon, but were the only survivors. S
"Look at 'em," Ryan said. "They're four perfect rows of bodies."
"Probably defensive lines," Gray said. "Well, hell! That means that the Sergeant must be nearby."
"Or dead," MacDonald interrupted.
The dead body of radioman Davis was found not long after buried under two Jackals. Wilson, who had wondered quite a ways off, proclaimed that he had found a recon sniper's body and that it was splattered which meant that it fell.
Ryan began to make his way towards a building's skeleton and rubble. On his way, he found human remains. It looked like the person had been shot by a large amount of plasma from all directions. It was then that Ryan found a nametag that said, CANCURI.
"I found him!" he shouted right before a plasma grenade stuck itself onto his back.
The doomed marine began to scream and run towards MacDonald.
"Get away from me!" MacDonald shouted, firing twenty assault rifle rounds into Ryan.
Ryan fell back and exploded into a blue cloud of neon light before he hit the ground.
Another grenade came sailing from out of nowhere and hooked itself onto MacDonald's helmet. He quickly took the helmet off and threw it in the air. It exploded like a firework.
"Thank God," MacDonald sighed.
Suddenly, MacDonald's head exploded like a watermelon as a plasma bolt slammed into his face. The dead marine's body fell to the ground, arms and legs twitching wildly.
"Get down!" screamed Wilson right before a blue bolt hit him in the neck.
He fell to the ground choking on his own blood.
Gray didn't last to much longer. A Jackal's plasma charge took off his head shortly after.
The four were now just a part of the battle scenery.
The Covenant troops emerged from their hiding spots.



"We will now have the pilot take us to central command," Hanamee said to the forty six Covenant troops in his command. "This is for the gods!"
Hanamee hopped aboard the ship and snuck towards the cockpit. He barged through the door and activated his simple word translator.
"You will take me and my squad to central command," he barked in the strange language, his right fist behind the pilot's head.
"Like hell I will!" the pilot shouted, moving her hands to withdraw her pistol.
Hanamee activated his light sword and a blue blade of light shot from his fist and into the head of the pilot.
Blood and chunks of brain spattered the windshield.
Hanamee gathered his troops onto the ship. It was extremely crowded and Hanamee had put up with Covenant troops even sitting in the cockpit for the ride. The veteran Elite warrior had only used a Pelican one other time, so his memory was a bit faded. It was difficult to get a hold on the controls but Hanamee learned to take off easy. It was steering that was the problem. During the process of making a hard left, twelve Jackals and six Elites tumbled out and fell to their deaths.
Although this pissed off Hanamee, he continued to drive.
It was two hours into the flight that a problem arose.



Two hunters, Diraku and Ziraku both nodded in agreement on the issue of shooting down the human Pelican passing them above. The Covenant had won the battle of the Berlin colony, so why should any human think itself good enough to enter Covenant territory?



Four Jackals, Sic, Pic, Jic, and Wic were having a normal conversation. They were exchanging battle stories like many Covenant warriors did to pass the time. Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted, when a fuel rod projectile slammed into the back of the Pelican, tossing the four Jackals out, screaming.
Hanamee spat and cursed realizing why the hunters were firing at them. They were driving a human ship. Another projectile arched itself right into the troop-carrying compartment. Two Elites were blown to small chunks in the blast and nothing was left of the Jackal who had been standing there.
It was when Diraku saw four Jackals come tumbling down, followed by two Elites, that he suggested maybe Covenant had hijacked the ship and that they should stop shooting. Ziraku agreed and the two stopped killing their fellow troops.



It had been twelve hours since 1st Class Private Pete McHundler had heard of the human's defeat at the colony of Berlin. The colony wasn't very far from where Pete was stationed, Central Command. He knew that a drop ship that was supposed to be carrying a sergeant and some of his surviving men was on the way.
Colonel Drexler stepped up behind McHundler and put his hand on the private's shoulder.
"Why don't you go out there and help bring in any injured troops when they arrive?" Drexler suggested.
"Yes, sir," McHundler responded, turning around and walking from the observation tower.
Pete had always been assigned to lookout duty on the observation tower, but now he could actually get a taste of blood.
Suddenly, the roar of a Pelican's engines sounded from overhead. The bird came to a halt, just above a landing pad and slowly dropped altitude. Pete noticed though, that every once in awhile, the ship would wobble side to side, like the pilot was either injured or was new. Pete began to run over to the landing area, but came to a total stop.
The Pelican was about three feet from the ground when suddenly; Covenant troops came pouring from the troop-carrying compartment. Elites and Jackals were the only race that the frightened private could notice.



"Kill! Kill! Kill!" Hanamee shouted as his soldiers came from the ship like a deadly waterfall. "Kill for the gods! Make them proud!"
An Elite named Duka Nanomee jumped from the ship and fired his plasma gun at the humans standing around. A few of the so called "medics", wearing their red crosses, fell to the ground writhing in pain.



Colonel Drexler's face became twisted with horror when he saw the brilliant covenant plan of espionage take action. He immediately ran as fast he could to the communications room down the hall.
One of the soldiers working the communications radio jumped up and saluted.
"Get that damn Master Chief here now!" he shouted.
"Yes, sir!" the radioman responded, sitting down.



The Master Chief had received the message two hours ago. There was no telling what central command would look like when he arrived. Suddenly a huge bump rattled the Spartan and his AI, Cortana.
"Damn turbulence," the Chief murmured.
"According to the message received from the central command post," she said sounding very smart, "a well known elite that the marines call 'Scar', captured a Pelican and used it as a disguise to get close enough to the post to unload troops. I hate to a pessimist, but there may not be any survivors by the time we arrive."
The pilot broke in on the armor's com-link, "ETA twenty minutes, Master Chief. Hang tight."



Pete McHundler began his daring sneak towards the legendary Scar. The deadly elite was standing on the landing pad, watching his troops overrun the post, not even paying a drop of attention to what was behind him.
McHundler was about three feet from the beast. Nervous sweat made the assault rifle smooth against the palm of his hands. The private was now right on top of him. He raised rifle up to the back of Scar's head and was about to pull the trigger when...



Hanamee heard the small click of the gun's safety overwhelm every plasma rifle and machine gun burst on the post. He shot around with lightning speed and grabbed the marine's neck. The disgusting human dropped his weapon in surprise.
Hanamee continued to squeeze.
Harder.
Harder.
HARDER.
The top of the human's head exploded into a small cloud of skull fragments and brain chunks. Hanamee dropped the crownless corpse and ran into the base to join the fight.

Defeat at Central Command
Date: 28 June 2003, 10:26 PM

The Master Chief surveyed the peaceful looking wooded area below the Pelican. It was a regular looking forest. Huge pine trees towered and loomed up into the sky, some of them so high that the Chief worried about the Pelican scraping some of them.
"ETA now five minutes," the Pelican pilot reported. "From what I'm seeing on the horizon, there appears to be small amounts of resistance occurring, Chief. There are stray bullets and plasma bolts flying into the sky everywhere."



From atop the observation tower, Hanamee spotted the human drop ship nearing above the forest. With an angry snarl he began to fire his gun in its direction.



"Somebody knows we're here," the Chief said, watching an Elite's plasma bolts pass the back of the troop compartment.
The pilot's intercom let out a short blurt of static.
"Okay, Master Chief, I'm dropping you in. Give em' hell, sir."
The Spartan jumped off the ship and felt the grassy ground hit his feet.
The central command was nestled in a small basin covered in evergreens, not to far from the colony's Berlin city, where most of the heavy fighting had taken place.



Hanamee instantly knew who the green figure was when he jumped from the ship. This particular human had been responsible for countless covenant deaths and had destroyed the ring world that had housed the terrible infection forms.
Hanamee ran to the nearest squad of Elites standing nearby.
"Radio in for reinforcements immediately," he ordered.
One of them straightened up his neck in surprise.
"More troops are needed? Your Excellency, we have taken the post, why call for more soldiers?" a cobalt-colored Elite questioned.
"Because the green soldier has come," Hanamee replied. "This human has killed thousands of covenant and was the one responsible for destroying our ring world. Not to mention that he has a shield just like yours or mine."
"I'll radio for more troops right away, your Excellency," the now nervous rookie responded.



The Chief spotted two Jackals standing, each behind their own tree. It was an easy task.
He tossed a fragmentation grenade between the two.
One of the aliens cried out in shock right before the explosive went off, turning the two covenant to purple mush.



An Elite named Guka Tranamee heard and saw the blast occur. He quickly hollered to his four partners to follow him.
"We will eliminate this green human and become famous," he told them. "Now let us move out and impress Hanamee!"



"Four Elites approaching from the left!" Cortana alerted.
The covenant Elites moved in and out of the tree gaps like water through a wheat field. One of them let out a threatening battle cry and barked what sounded like an order in its strange language. They all opened fire at once.
The Chief hit the ground and rolled on his sides till he was behind a fallen evergreen. Charred bits of bark and burnt twigs rained on his helmet, as blue, white-hot streaks flew past overhead. The Spartan tossed a grenade over the log and was pleased to see a blue-armored leg go flying over the log and land behind him, smoke drifting off of it.



The little green ball let out an extremely loud bang and Guka Tranamee fell down to the forest ground. He immediately noticed his right leg was missing and let out an extremely loud moan when he saw this. His four partners lie around him. They were missing their arms and legs as well. One Elite didn't even possess a head anymore.
I have not lost, Tranamee thought.



The Master Chief, seeing that his grenade had done him some good, made his way to the group of fallen Elites. He entered the blast area and looked around at the dead bodies. One of the menaces had been thrown into a tree, headless. The Chief felt no sympathy for the downed troops.
Suddenly, a strong blow hit his ankle. He fell to the ground and ended up looking at the half legless Elite. It let out a growl and waved its plasma rifle in the Spartan's face. The gun went off and the Chief saw stars as a small little alarm started going off, alerting him that his shields were fully down.
He swung his left arm down onto the alien's neck, choking it. With the other hand, he grasped the gun from the creature. The Elite began to bang his arms on the ground as his body went into a seizure-like state. Soon, the dying creature quit pounding as purple blood drizzled from its mouth.
The Spartan got up and began making his way for the command post, hiding behind trees as he went.
"Warning, Phantoms deploying troops," Cortana warned.
The purple drop ship roared overhead, as five Hunters unloaded from it.
"Damn," the Master Chief said, "this aught to be fun."




Piraku, Firaku, Eiraku, and Wiraku hunched over, covering all exposed areas of their bodies. Not spotting the green human anywhere, they quickly turned around for fear that he was behind them. When nothing happened, the four began to move towards the post, thinking that maybe the scum ball was battling the others defending it. Suddenly, the shot of a human pistol rang out.
Wiraku gasped and shuttered as he fell over forward, a hole in the exposed orange area on his back. The three remaining giants turned around just in time to see the pest go behind a large tree. Piraku fired his fuel rod canon, blowing the tree's base to bits. The giant arbor crashed to the ground, exposing the green soldier.



The Chief tossed a grenade to the left of the three Hunters. It detonated, distracting them. They all raised their heads a bit to look over, exposing just a slit of orange, where their necks were. The Chief took the chance. He fired a bullet at the Hunter on the right end of the line. His prayers were answered when the beast grunted and fell over sideways, orange blood squirting from it. He then ran up a small slope and hid behind a very large Evergreen.


Firaku and Eiraku ran after the human and stopped at the base of the small hill. The stupid human had hid behind another tree.
Firaku fired his canon at the base. It blew into smithereens, but gravity got the best of it. The tree fell forward, downhill, and smashed the Hunter.



Only one left.
"What the hell are you doing?" Cortana shouted as the Master Chief ran full speed at the last behemoth, dodging its projectiles.
"You'll see," he responded calmly.
The Spartan was about three feet from the covenant troop when it raised its huge, alloy-coated shield, ready to bring it down on him. Instead, the Chief ran right by as he jammed a grenade in the Hunter's cannon barrel.



Eiraku screamed as the grenade and the cannon blew, sending orange gore all over the place.



Hanamee cursed as he watched the last Hunter exploded into an orange mess. This human had an excellent chance at taking the post back over, and he wasn't going to stick around when it happened. To the left of the observation tower, two drop ships cruised in unloading Grunts, Elites and Jackals.
"Hold your position, drop ships," Hanamee radioed.
The Elite sprinted down the stairs past his personal guards and out and onto the grass. He made his way to one of the two transporters and jumped in.
"Take me to the nearest ship," he ordered.
"Yes, your Excellency," the pilot answered.
Hanamee watched the mini-battle scene shrink as the engines roared, taking him up farther and farther. Soon, nothing could be seen when, finally, the troop bay doors closed.

Destination: Marakesh
Date: 30 June 2003, 10:14 PM

Thirteen Pelicans filled the sky as the Master Chief stood atop the observation tower of New Berlin's Central Command Post. It was still early in the day.
"Better go out to meet them," Cortana suggested.
The Spartan had slept outside last night, which was obvious considering there was a cot lying next to a pile of burnt Covenant. The bodies had been good firewood. Although they hadn't smelled the best, the Chief had gotten by just fine.
The Pelicans landed on their designated pads and marines came leaping from the backs.
A rough looking soldier strode up to the Master Chief.
"Hello, Chief, good to see you. My name is Sergeant Frank Mandez," he said, holding out his hand.
The Master Chief shook Mandez's hand and nodded.
"Heard about the trouble last night. How'd it go, Sergeant?"
Mandez laughed.
"Let me put it this way, sir," he put his hand on the Spartan's shoulder. "They were originally going to send thirty three Pelicans to reinforce you. This is all they could cough up without having the Covenant out number their sorry asses. The UNSC's in a real shit storm right now, let me tell you."



Tuka Hanamee walked into the large temple, where the Prophet sat, eyes closed.
"Hello, Tuka Hanamee," it said.
"Hello, exalted one," Hanamee replied, standing before the Prophet in a respectful stance. "Have you made the decision on letting me hunt down the human?"
"Yes I have. You must understand that there have been a few Elites before you who have been denied this request. I actually knew one who decided to do it anyway and was killed. This human is extremely dangerous, but the Prophets have faith in your combat experience and smartness. So, seeing those two good traits, we have decided to grant you permission on the request of hunting this human down."
"Thank you, exalted one," Hanamee said, hiding the intense happiness that he felt.
"We have chosen a team that shall go with you. Eight of them are strike team members and fifteen of them are veterans who wished to come and fight for you. We are putting a great amount of trust in you, Tuka Hanamee. Please do not fail."



The Chief was glad to know he was headed to a ship instead of being on New Berlin. He was ready for a new setting. Space was still dangerous of course, but it required none of his work if enemies were spotted. The only time he would be needed was if a Covenant boarding party should arrive.
The small transport ship sped farther and farther from Earth. Soon the green, blue, and white planet was the size of a basketball in the Chief's view. Ahead of the small ship, the Ion could be seen. Its large engines let off a blue light from its back and small specks of yellow light were sporadically spread all over the body, being windows.
"Docking in two," the pilot said.
Once the ship was docked the Chief unloaded and looked around.
The Ion, being newer than most of the ships he'd been, looked a lot nicer. There was fresh paint on the landing pads and the metal walls still held their gleam.
"Hello, Master Chief, my name is Captain David Kesler," a man behind him said.
"Hello, Captain," Cortana said.
"Why don't you come up to the bridge with me, Chief?" the Captain said. "We can plug Cortana into the ship's central system there."
The Chief began to follow the captain to the bridge through a maze of steel halls and passageways. One thing about the ship that the Spartan noticed was the sentry guns sticking out of the walls.
"What are the guns for, Captain?" the Master Chief asked.
"In case any boarding parties should happen to get on the ship," Kesler said, walking.
Finally they reached the bridge. This particular bridge was a lot nicer than the Pillar of Autumn's had been. Its computer systems were a lot nicer.
The Chief slid the chip from his helmet and placed Cortana in the ships central computer. A small figure of the AI generated on a small pad next to a small keyboard.
"Oh, all the new technology and top of the line navigational systems," Cortana said, amused. "This should be fun to work with."
"Right," the Captain broke into Cortana's moment of excitement. "Chief, we're taking you to the planet Marakesh. After your heroic rescue of New Berlin's central command, the UNSC wants you on a special operation.



An invisible spy, Duka Wunamee stood right behind the Captain, gun raised. The human didn't even notice that the air was distorted.
Wunamee radioed in.
"The special human is headed for the planet Marakesh," he said.
"Good," Hanamee's voice crackled back.



"Your destination information file is ready for you when ever you need to read it," Kesler said.



Hearing this, Wunamee withdrew a small hacking device. The spy carefully slipped it into an input plug for the central computer. After withdrawing information, he sent it to Hanamee.
"His destination is at a small outpost called Phoenix 14," Wunamee said. "You can be ready for him there."
"Good work, Wunamee," Hanamee responded.


Suddenly, Cortana turned a bright red.
"Foreign object detected!" she alerted. "According to the feedback, it's a Covenant hacking syringe!"
The Master Chief, realizing that the bastard could be invisible, turned to Cortana.
"Activate the fire emergency system!" he shouted.
Sprinklers began spraying all over the ship.
The second that the water hit the spy, revealing his form, he knew he'd been caught. He immediately fired a bolt into Captain Kesler's side. The Captain grunted and dropped to the floor.
The Spartan took out his M6D and fired.
A purple spout of blood came shooting up from the Elite's head, and it collapsed, dead.
"Captain!" an Ensign hollered, running to Kesler's aid.
After checking his pulse the Ensign stood up.
"He's dead."
"We can't stop now," Cortana said. "Chief, your arrival at Marakesh is critical to this operation. I'm setting a course now. As soon as we get there, we'll get a replacement for Captain Kesler."
The Ion pushed forward soundlessly in the silence of space. In the distance, the large, looming desert planet called Marakesh awaited the Master Chief.

The Road to Combat Zone 4
Date: 2 July 2003, 6:02 AM

*Note: Read Battle of Berlin Colony, Attack on Central Command, Defeat at Central Command, Destination: Marakesh to catch up on this series. Sorry, I guess I should number the parts instead next time. Oh, well, this won't be my only series. Thanks for reading, and enjoy.

________________________________________________________________________



Tuka Hanamee, in his new and recently polished gold armor led his squad to the top of a large hill on the east edge of the outpost area. He lifted his vision enlarger to his eyes and zoomed in on the small building.
A strike force member, Ruka Tanamee crawled up along side Hanamee.
"Shall we attack?" he asked.
Hanamee looked over at him.
"There are too many humans around. Even for us. We will wait until the green one is alone and away from this place fighting other covenant soldiers. Then we will attack him and squash him like the pest he is."



The Master Chief walked from the small transport that he had originally ridden to the Ion, the large ship that brought him to Marakesh. After the Captain had been shot dead, Cortana had piloted the ship close enough to the planet so the transport's trip wouldn't be a long one.
"Good luck, sir!" the pilot shouted back before closing the compartment doors.
"I'm going to need it," the Chief muttered.
The transport lifted off and blasted at a vertical climb back into space.
Marakesh, named after the capital of Morocco, was a lot like it. It was a desert planet with almost no water in sight. Dust freely lifted from the ground like steam. Soft little clack clacks could be heard as sand particles hit the Spartan's visor.
Ahead, stood the small fort-like building of Marakesh outpost Phoenix 14. The Chief began running towards it, eager to get there.
He arrived and walked through a set of automatic doors.
"Hello, sir," a British marine greeted at the guard booth.
"I'm here for the briefing of Operation Spear Head," the Master Chief said.
The marine switched a button on a switchboard and spoke.
"Lieutenant Phelps, the Master Chief is here to see you, sir."
The Chief scanned the room. A few shelves lined the lobby full of awards and trophies. One shelf contained a full set of gold Elite battle armor.
"You can have a seat, Master Chief," the marine said.
"That's okay, I'll stand."
The sound of another set of automatic doors echoed throughout the high-ceilinged room.
Lieutenant Phelps strode in briskly and walked over to the Spartan.
"Good afternoon, Chief," he said. "You can follow me."
Phelps and the Master Chief made their way into what seemed to a footage-viewing room. It was dark and in the center sat a three foot tall pillar. Phelps walked over to the pillar and pressed a button.
"Load Operation Spear Head file," he spoke firmly and clearly.
A spout of light sprouted from the pillar to form a series of 3D rooms and environments.
"Okay, Master Chief, listen up," the Lieutenant said. "You are to take a group of Special Forces to Combat Zone 4. An excessive amount of covenant forces are fighting the local battalion of marines. Your job is to take the designated route."
A dotted line formed over a holographic map until it reached Combat Zone 4.
The Lieutenant continued.
"This route has carefully been surveyed by scouts and has been found that it is the most Covenant free area at this time. Although we can't guarantee that you won't run into hostiles, you needn't worry. You'll have some of the UNSC's best with you."
The Chief somehow didn't feel that he should get his hopes up as far as the UNSC's best went. They were probably just a couple of good soldiers who just killed an above average amount of covenant or maybe had just seen more combat.
After finishing up his briefing, the Chief got to meet his soldiers. After all the "hello"s and "how the hell are ya'"s were done, it was time to set out. A total of twenty soldiers were following the Spartan when he left the outpost, on his way.



Hanamee, seeing this, slammed the bottom of his fist into the dirt.
"May it all be damned to the underworld!" he fumed. "He has troops with him! May the gods damn him! Damn it all!"
The other Elites sat quietly, not even daring to make their commander any angrier.
It was when one Elite almost said something to Hanamee, that the whole group shushed him.
"Commander Hanamee has been known to shoot fellow troops," another whispered to him. "The smart thing to do would be to wait until he calms himself."
"We will follow them," Hanamee said. "We will stay parallel to their route. This mountain range will hide us from their sight. Every few units or so, one of us will poke his head up and over the edge to see if their course has changed."
The squad of Elites silently formed a line. All of the strike force members were in front and the veterans were in back.



Trudging through the deep and windy sand storm was a big fat bitch, Corporal William Hanks decided after three hours of walking.
"Master Chief," he radioed.
"Yes, Corporal?" the Chief's response sounded.
"Why don't we have any vehicular transport to this place?"
"Oh, the UNSC figured that wind conditions were to bad for a Pelican and that the Covenant would easily know we were coming if we brought a tank or something in, so here we are, walking through hell."
Hanks had to laugh at the Spartan's response, but the laughter was soon chased away by the present situation. They still had about an hour of walking and then they would reach their destination. However, the Covenant run-ins seemed to be getting larger in number, the closer they got to Combat Zone 4.
Suddenly, the Chief made a downward motion with his hand. All of the marines, in both lines dropped to the ground.



A veteran Elite rushed over to the range's edge and peeked over the side.
"Hanamee, the humans are about to fight another one of our squads," he reported.



The Master Chief radioed through every marine's helmet, "Five Jackals, six Elites, and ten Grunts. After I toss my grenade, I want you all to spread out and begin firing at anything that moves other than your fellow man."
Hanks watched as a small speck flew up into the air at the front of the line.
A grenade.
The grenade stuck itself in the sand right in the middle of the group of Elites. It detonated with a whump. One Elite came flying out of nowhere and landed face down in the sand, legless, in between the two lines of marines.
"Jesus Christ! Fire!" Hanks shouted, startled. Every troop fired on the Elite, making him a tattered, purple mess.
Two out of the six survived. Each one flanked a line.
Blue plasma bolts came sailing out of the wall of dust and hit a few men in the line on the left of the Chief. The Elites were good. They never fired from the same place, constantly strafing the lines and sporadically firing from different positions.
However the aliens were outnumbered.
The marines began firing out into the dust and after hearing the aliens' cries of defeat, turned towards the remaining Covenant.
The Chief continued to stare ahead, M6D out in front him, the butt of the gun resting on the ground. A small silhouette came into view through the dust. It continued to move forward until the Master Chief could see that it was a Strike Force Grunt, armed with a fuel rod cannon. The little bastard got a shot in.
The flaming green comet-like projectile sailed over the Chief and landed right smack dab in the middle of the line to his left. Screaming and cries of pain drifted among the furious wind as marines flew in all directions missing everything on their bodies from torsos to limbs to faces.
"So much for the UNSC's finest," the Spartan murmured as he sent a round into the Grunt's methane tank.
Bluish bubbles and froth sprouted from the hole and the five foot pest fell on his side fumbling with his mask and gasping.
The cannon's self-destruct program occurred and the weapon exploded into a ball of green flame, tossing the Grunt, on fire, out of sight and into the endless wall of dust.
The sound of utility equipment rattling could be heard as four more Grunts emerged from the grime in the air. These were regular rookies, their bronze armor blending in with the storm. One was armed with a needler while the other three carried a standard plasma pistol. A bang rang out and the Grunt with the needler collapsed, a smoking hole in his chest.
The other three opened fire on the Chief. His shields quickly dropped and the alarm in his helmet began to go off.
The Spartan decided to go fully automatic and withdrew his MA5B Assault Rifle and swept the barrel over the three. They fell dead, bright blue blood staining the sand.
The Jackals, realizing they were outnumbered, began to run away.
The Chief tossed a grenade in front of them, cutting off their escape route. Seeing this, they turned and began running the opposite direction. Just as they turned around, the Chief lobbed another frag in that route, too. The doomed Jackals were sandwiched.
The grenades went off, throwing their bodies two opposite directions. The corpses collided in mid-air and fell to the dirt, some of them entwined with one another. It was actually a pretty amusing sight as far as the Chief was concerned.



"I can no longer see them," Hanamee said. "The storm is covering their position. We will have to estimate their speed and where they are to stay parallel to them."
The band of Elites began moving forward.



After the small fight was over, the Master Chief was only left with fourteen soldiers. The fuel rod projectile had been a serious hell. There was one survivor, however. A Lieutenant Hanks.
He suffered third degree burns to the face, but he would be okay after some recovery. Luckily, no skin had melted over his eyes, so he could fight if he wished.
An hour had passed and the marines could hear heavy combat ahead, due to the end of the storm. The air was finally clear again.
"Attention, all marines," the Master Chief announced. "We are nearing Combat Zone 4. When we arrive, we will set up a front line for the marine attack force. Our objective is to take back this particular research plant."
After more walking the Chief stumbled on something. It was a marine's skeleton in full armor. The Spartan looked ahead, and almost froze with fear from what he saw. Thousands of marine skeletons lie ahead of the squad as they got closer to the combat zone, the fighting got louder and louder until plasma bolts and bullets alike could be seen flying freely in the air.
"Okay, marines!" the Master Chief alerted. "Let's move!"

The Fall of the Chief
Date: 8 July 2003, 5:09 AM

The Master Chief heard a crunch as he accidentally brought his foot down on a marine's skull. They had been trudging through the bones for a about a mile now getting closer and closer to the sounds of battle. Combat zone 4 was just ahead.
"Look there!" a marine shouted.
An Elite, apparently coming from the battle, was sprinting at high speeds toward the squad. Although it was coming right at them, it couldn't see them because it was looking back behind itself.
"It's almost like something is chasing it," the Chief said. "Gun it down."
The soldiers opened fire.
Purple spouts of blood erupted all over the alien as the rounds tore into its body. It collapsed face down in the sand.
Suddenly, in the distance, huge swarms of gray figures could be seen running from the horizon. It wasn't long before marines could be made out. They began flying past the squad like it didn't exist.
The Spartan grabbed one of the retreating marine's shoulders.
"What happened?" he asked. "Where are you all going?"
"The Covenant wiped us out, sir," came his response. "There are hordes of them heading this way right now. I suggest you join us and start running."
"What do we do, Chief?" one of the Special Force squad members asked.
The Chief stood for a minute.
It wasn't long before thousands of Covenant could be seen emerging on the horizon as well.
A stray fuel rod projectile sailed in and landed right in the middle of the retreating army. A few tattered soldiers flew into the air.
"We run," the Master Chief said.
The squad turned and began sprinting at full speed.



Hanamee glanced at the green human through his vision enhancers. Now would be a good time attack, but the human was so far ahead of the Covenant army, that the thousands of marines around him would mow Hanamee's group down.
"Would do we do?" a fierce veteran named Lanka Canamee questioned.
"We will wait and follow the retreating army," Hanamee said. "Once again, the tips of these mountains will give us cover."
The veteran snarled as his temper got the best of him.
"We are doing nothing!" he yelled. "We are sitting here watching this human, when we could kill him. Why are you not sending us in to fight him? I am ready for a task! You are doing a poor job, Hanamee."
"You want a task?" Hanamee said calmly. "Try and get this grenade of your chest."
With that he shoved a plasma grenade onto the veteran's armor and at the same time pushed him over the mountain wall.
The Elite screamed as he tumbled through the air and then exploded into a neon-blue cloud.
"I would appreciate the prophets never hearing of that," Hanamee said calmly.



The Master Chief saw the blast occur out of the corner of his eye. It had happened in mid air. This was strange.
There's no time to investigate, the Chief thought as another flaming green bolt sent several dismembered marines and their missing limbs off of the ground.
The Spartan noticed that the human army had gotten themselves into a real hell. They were not just running from thousands of Covenant, but now running through a valley. Sharp mountains and foothills curved up on both sides of the UNSC's battle group.
A sniper who was along side the Chief decided to voice his opinion.
"Master Chief, sir!" he shouted, sprinting along side the Spartan. "If another Covenant army was to come down from the sides of this valley, we'd be toast, sir."
"I know," the Chief responded. "I don't think anyone really knows where we're going right now."
And it was true.
General Fredrick Sherman had issued a blind retreat. His army would run until they came upon...well...what he would call luck. He knew that his marines didn't have a chance. They were in the middle of nowhere and were running from an army of thousands. It was a hell of a situation.
The General sat in the passenger seat of the Warthog, observing the sprinting army behind him. The seemingly tireless aliens kept on catching up. Either that, or his men were growing tired and falling behind.
It was when Sherman saw the hundreds of Covenant soldiers come pouring over the hills and sharp rocks that he knew his men were damned. The marines were surrounded, just as the Master Chief had feared.
General Sherman felt the impact of an Elite's plasma bolt occur on the side of his head and then everything dimmed and went, finally, dark.



The Chief kicked it into high gear and began speeding ahead of all of the running marines, his feet aching.
They were surrounded. It was hopeless.
Hundreds of soldiers began dropping like flies as plasma took them. Thousands of bodies lie everywhere and blood was up to the ankle. Among them, a super soldier in green armor lay, his apathetic facial visor reflecting the white and drifty clouds above.



Cortana's figure on Captain Berkley's control panel stiffened its back.
"Captain!" she alerted.
"What is it, Cortana?" Berkley asked, his stressed eyes full of tension.
"I've lost General Sherman's communications beacon. Data shows that his com went out at the coordinates: L78; LO43."
"Barker, get me a satellite image on those coordinates!" the Captain ordered.
"Aye, sir," the Ensign responded.
The whole entire bridge crew froze and stood in horror at what appeared on the eight foot display screen. Thousands of soldiers were lying in the sand, puddles of blood underneath them.
Just then something came into view.
"Zoom in on that!" Berkley barked.
The satellite image magnified onto a marine running forward by himself. Suddenly a plasma bolt struck the back of his head and he dropped, face down next to a familiar soldier. It was the Master Chief.
Colors flew through Cortana's holographic body, as she stood, horrified.
"Damn it, that's all I needed to see," the Captain said. "Barker alert the Wake of Freedom and the Ethiopia to prepare all nuclear protocols. We're going to glass the planet."

Escape from Marakesh
Date: 11 July 2003, 6:36 AM

"Wait!" Cortana shouted. "The Chief's signal is still active. Apparently, he's playing dead. We'll just have to wait."
"Jesus! I can't make an unsure guess just because of one soldier, Cortana. The destruction of this particular Covenant army would cause dramatic changes in the tides of this war. I am still going to hold the command of glassing the planet."
"Captain, my sensors do not fail!" the AI shouted. "He is the last Spartan of his kind. Please allow him a chance, sir. He is alive. There is no doubt about it."
"Damn it! Ensign Barker, you know what to do."
"Yes, Captain Berkeley," Barker replied, clicking the communications buttons to the Ethiopia and the Wake of Freedom. "This is the Ion to the Ethiopia and the Wake of Freedom. Cancel all nuclear launching system actions and protocol."



The Master Chief lay still, not daring to move. Hundreds of Covenant soldiers were upon him and one twitch would give him away. It was like running through a field of land mines. You had to be delicate. VERY delicate.
A cobalt Elite came briskly walking on top of the fallen bodies. His suctioned boot landed on the Chief's facial visor. The armor held its promised strength and nothing happened. The alien continued on its way.
Not far off, a marine began screaming wildly. Two Elites lifted the survivor in the air by each of his arms and dragged him over to another of their kind. This one armored in crimson. This particular Elite rose his gun to the soldier's face and then jammed it into his mouth. The marine began shouting muffled hollers and kicking. It wasn't long before brain and skull fragments came bursting from the back of his head followed by a plasma bolt.
The creatures let out what sounded like awkward laughs and the three of them, side by side, began walking off. The Master Chief now knew that he couldn't let the Covenant find him. He'd seen what would happen to survivors and he didn't like it. Slowly but surely, he withdrew his M6D from his holster and then put his arm back into a limp position like a corpse's.



The bridge crew, seeing the movement on the satellite picture, let a small series of sighs and "woo-hoo"s.
"Now we wait," Captain Berkley said.
"According to the intercepted radio conversations I'm monitoring, the Covenant are now withdrawing from the Master Chief's particular position," Cortana informed.
"Brainy little bitch," Berkley muttered under his breath.



The Spartan felt a wave of relief sweep through his stomach as he saw the Covenant began to all move away. All he could do was keep perfectly still and wait. A Wraith hovered right over him and he thought the pressure underneath the metallic beast was going to crush him flat.
After about an hour of lying still, the Chief slowly turned his head to the right and then to the left to make sure all hostiles were gone. Seeing that they were, he hopped to his feet and immediately began jogging up the left side of the valley, forming a right angle with the direction the Covenant army was going. Climbing up the cliffs was harder than he thought, but he soon reached the top and was disappointed to see more sand dunes and barren plains. He immediately connected to Cortana's frequency.
"This is the Chief to the Ion," he said. "I am requesting Pelican extraction as soon as possible."
"Roger, Master Chief, I read you," came Cortana's proper-like voice. "Due to fair weather conditions and the low risk of hostile encounters, a drop ship should arrive shortly.
After only minutes of waiting, the whining engines of the Pelican could be heard. It placed itself only a few ten feet from him and came to a three foot hover, throwing sand and dust into the air in all directions.
The Chief hopped aboard and was greeted by the pilot's raspy male voice over the ship's intercom.
"Welcome aboard Pelican 13," he said. "Glad to have you, sir."
The Pelican's serial number didn't make the Chief feel lucky, but transportation was transportation and it was better than wondering through the hot desert and starving to death.
The intercom on the ship crackled.
"I'll be taking you to an evacuation pad, Chief. There, you'll board a transportation ship that will take you to the Ion. The ship's AI requested it. Of course, there's a lot of chaos at the evacuation pads. So, there may be some crowd control. They're going to glass this planet as soon as the two hour time limit is up. If no body gets off the planet by then, they're toast," the pilot said.



"Pelican 13 reports the Master Chief is on his way to the nearest evacuation pad," Ensign Barker reported.
"Good," the Captain said, impressed with Cortana's overall instinct. If he hadn't listened to her, the last Spartan surviving would have been vaporized.



Tuka Hanamee cursed as the green human sped off in his ship. He then turned to his comrades.
"Our spies have intercepted information stating that the humans will use their largest bombs to wipe out our armies here," he said. "However, they are to far ahead for us to catch up with them and give warning. They will have to perish."
"What shall we do?" a veteran asked.
"I have called for a drop ship to pick us up at the current position and take us to the only Covenant ship orbiting Marakesh: The Shimmering Flame."
The squad relaxed and sighed in relief as they received the confirmation of their survival.
"What if the three human ships find the Shimmering Flame, Hanamee?" one pessimistic Elite asked, clicking his silver gauntlet against the top of his plasma rifle.
"Impossible," Hanamee responded confidently. "They are directly parallel to our ship. They are on the other side of the planet completely. They will not be able to catch us in light space with their primitive technology."



The pilot of Pelican 13's eyes widened as he took the bird in right above the landing pad. A couple of marines were standing around the evacuation ship firing phosphorous gas grenades into the rioting crowd. Once the Pelican was close enough the pilot radioed over the intercom.
"Okay, Chief, I'm in close enough," he said. "Hop on out and be careful. The crowd's rioting."
The Spartan made a five foot jump from the ship and began running up a ramp leading up to the evacuation pad. One rioter grasped the front of the Chief's armor and got up in his face.
"You bastard!" he shouted. "We're all going to die because of you, you selfish asshole!"
The Master Chief just simply shoved the man down onto his ass. But the rioter was not so easily extinguished. He leapt to his feet and withdrew a pistol. He was dressed as a Longsword pilot, so the Chief knew that all of the rioters were UNSC personnel.
The crazed pilot squeezed the trigger and an M6D round smacked the suit's shield, right in front of the facial visor. The shield bar went down about a forth on the helmet's HUD.
With no effort, the Spartan snatched the pistol from the hand of his attacker, and once again pushed him down.
"I don't want to have to hurt you," the Chief calmly warned.
"It doesn't matter anyway! We're all going to die because of you!" the pilot shouted; as the Spartan continued up the ramp, not even paying attention.
However, the pilot wasn't done. He wasn't about to just let the Chief walk out of here. He sprinted at the Chief full speed and let a small cry when a bullet lodged itself in his kneecap.
The Chief walked over to the pilot, and with his foot, shoved him off of the ramp. The wounded screamed the whole fifteen feet down.
"Come on, sir!" one of the ship guards shouted as he fired another round into the huge wave of shouting people. It exploded and a few of the rioters collapsed, choking on the deadly powder which exploded from the grenade.
"Right."
The Master Chief walked into the small troop compartment of the evac ship and the doors closed, cutting off the sound of the chaos outside. The small area was dimly lit by red lights and it was very small, only room for a few people.
The ship's doors reopened and three of the riot guards stepped in and sat down. The doors closed once again, just in time to cut off the large swarm of people running for the entrance.
"It's hell out there," one of them said, out of breath.
"Why are you boarding?" the Chief asked.
"Because we'd get ripped apart after the ship took off if we didn't."
The ship's engines roared to life, and in no time, it was in the air, on its way to the Ion.

Landing on Dracon
Date: 16 July 2003, 7:04 AM

*Remember, if you haven't read the prequels you can do so by selecting "more by this author". THis is my only series so far, so everything you see are prequels.



Tuka Hanamee and his squad boarded the drop ship just as the first bomb hit. It was a long way off, so they were in no danger...at the moment. The ship roared to life and no time, was in the yellow, dusty sky. Through the view crack in the large troop bay door, Hanamee watched as white-hot bubbles sprouted everywhere. He was surprised. The humans had more powerful weapons than he had thought. Large shockwaves spread over the desert landscape, stirring up dust clouds that rose to be as tall as buildings.
As the ship traveled higher and higher, more of the ground became visible. Hanamee could now see thousands of specks running around frantically. These specks were his comrades, Strike Force: Gulamee.
Suddenly, a shockwave reached the Covenant troops. Thousands of the tiny specks fell flat, and were not long after, engulfed in white-hot flame.
Thousands of soldiers dead in seconds.



The evac ship fell a good one hundred feet through the air and then began to climb back up towards space again.
The ship's intercom crackled.
"Damn!" the pilot's voice exclaimed. "Those shockwaves are causing some serious turbulence."
One of the riot guards that had helped the Master Chief in the process of boarding the ship turned a pale green.
Puke splattered against the floor and rolled to the back of the passenger compartment. The guard wiped off the corner of his mouth.
"Uneasy stomach," he informed.
The Chief nodded and was thankful that he had his helmet on. The smell would be hard on the other troops.
"Sorry, sir," one of the guards said. "I never got to introduce myself. The names Samuel Hastings."
The other two gave their names as well.
"Peter Hasley."
"George Patton, named after the great World War Two general."
"We have reached interstellar obit," the pilot said. "ETA: Ion, one hour."
"Roger that," the Chief replied.



Cortana's holographic form turned to face Captain Berkley.
"According to the pilot of the evacuation ship, the Master Chief is on board," she said. "Their ETA is one hour, Captain."
Berkley nodded and paced back and forth in front of the large view window. Outside the huge, brownish planet turned slowly as the nuclear bombs' flowers of fire erupted on its surface.
"According to Intel, there's a Covenant ship on the other side of Marakesh," he said. "It's a shame we won't be able to get to it in time."
"However, Captain, I can monitor the ship to see what it decides to do," Cortana suggested, trying to lighten the level of stress that was contained in the present situation.
"That would be good, Cortana."
"According to the Covenant's profile of the ship, it's called the Shimmering Flame. The ship's commander is well-known for brutal tactics and is very well gifted in the art of strategy.
"Great..." Berkley muttered, rubbing his chin.
Cortana continued.
"I'm picking up some of the crew's radio conversation. Give me a minute... A drop ship is currently docking. Apparently, some Covenant troops made off of the planet before we glassed it."
"Damn..."
"I wouldn't worry about it though, Captain. It's only one drop ship. There can't be many of them."



It seemed like an eternity before the ship's pilot finally said what the Chief wanted to hear.
"ETA 30 seconds!"
The Master Chief looked over at the one called Hasley.
"Where'd you get the scar?" the Spartan asked, eyeing the craterous looking spot on the cheek of the soldier.
"During a small riot on Harvest. That was before we lost contact with them. I don't know who did it, but somebody in the crowd put an M6D round in my face," Hasley responded, turning his head to show the other cheek. "See? The scar's the same on each cheek. The bullet went right through because I happened to have my mouth open. Luckily, they were able to use nano cell replacement, so I wouldn't go around the rest of my life with holes in my cheeks."
The Chief's face winced behind his facial visor, as the thought of the pain Hasley had gone through crossed his mind.
The ship jolted as it docked in the Ion.
A voice outside of the evac said, "Close docking bay door 11."
The small ship's door flew open and the Chief stepped out. Just as before, a marine ran up.
"Captain Berkley would like you on the bridge, sir," he said.



Hanamee and his squad leapt from the open troop bay doors and onto the frigid metal floor of the Shimmering Flame's ship bay.
A small Grunt hurried over, his utility belt causing a small series of rattles.
"Excuse me, your Excellency," he piped, staring up at Hanamee. "The ship's commander wishes to speak with you."
"Thank you for message," Hanamee boomed, using the tone of his voice as a sign of higher authority. "You may move along now, pest. I can find my way from here."
The tiny Grunt waddled off, out of breath and squealing with fear.
Hanamee motioned for his squad to follow and then began to jog in the bridge's direction. This particular ship was much nicer than many that the Elite had been on before and he enjoyed walking through it. It wasn't long before he found himself in the bridge.
The ship's commander, Fuka Wanamee, stood arms behind back, staring into the large view screen atop a high platform. He spun around at hearing the squad enter.
"Tuka Hanamee!" he greeted warmly hurrying down the ramp and onto level ground with his fellow commander.
"Greetings, Fuka Wanamee," Hanamee replied. "You wished to speak to me?"
"Yes. The prophets have told me of your reason for being here. I am sorry you have not had the pleasure to slaughter the green human."
"There is no need for sympathy, Wanamee," Hanamee remarked waving his hand in the air. "I will crush his skull into dust with my fist."
"I have every confidence in you and in the gods that you will."
The two Elites paused for a moment.
"However," Wanamee continued. "We have reason to believe that this green warrior is going to travel to the outer human colony of Dracon to help drive our strike teams from that territory."
"Then we shall pursue him," Hanamee replied defiantly clenching his palms into fists.
"There is a transport waiting for you," Wanamee replied. "It will depart a few days after the human's. That way, you cannot be caught following it."
Hanamee grunted an approval and stood up straight.
"May the god of war bless you, Tuka Hanamee," Wanamee stated as he turned and walked to a holographic control pad. With the press of a button, the ship entered slip space.



"Damn," Cortana muttered. "It's gone."
"Stow it, Cortana," Captain Berkley said aggressively. "Right now I'm more worried about this Spartan getting to Dracon on time, before it's wiped off the map."
"Yes, Captain," the AI said rolling her pinkish eyes.
Berkley raised an eyebrow. The little ass was smarting off. Suddenly, the Captain's mind cleared of Cortana.
The Master Chief strode into the bridge, towering at least seven feet into the air.
"Greetings, Master Chief," the Captain said, shaking the giant's hand. "I hope that you'll enjoy your short trip on the Ion."
"Hello, Captain," the Chief responded.
"Ahem, excuse me?" Cortana questioned. "Where's my greeting?"
The Chief smiled.
"Hello, Cortana," he said. "I nearly forgot about you."
"Very funny."
"Your room is located on C deck, we'll be arriving at the transport departure zone," Berkley continued.
"I'll be fine without a room," the Spartan insisted. "By the time I probably remove my suite, the transport will be ready for me."
Tired of the small talk, the Master Chief took a walk to the cafeteria and sat down at a table. Apparently, it was lunchtime for the crew and the marines on board. There were long lines leading to the food dispensers. Besides, he wasn't hungry. His stomach was already full of nervous-like emptiness. He always felt like this before combat.
"Hey, Sloan! Check this out!"
The shouts of amazement broke the Chief's thoughts.
"It's a goddamned Spartan!"
A boyish-looking marine sat down across from him.
"Hey, Master Chief, the name's Private David Sloan," he said, holding out his hand to the Chief.
The Spartan shook it.
"Hello, private," the Chief responded apathetically.
"I and a few other men have been assigned to escort you from the landing pad when we get to Dracon, sir," Sloan said.
"Escort? Why would I need an escort?" the Chief questioned.
"Because, sir, we're landing under fire. The whole damn colony is under attack. There's not a single place you can go without meeting some kind of alien bastard."
The Spartan's brow wrinkled. No one had told him they would be landing under fire. The poor private would get mowed down the second the ship touched down. It was easy to tell that Sloan was green.
Not much time had passed before the Chief got to know Sloan. He had two kids. A four year-old girl, two year-old boy and not to mention a wife. He had joined the marines because he had wanted something different and to see new places. It was also one of the only jobs he could get since he never finished secondary school and married at sixteen.
Sloan had been in combat zones, but had never had a kill he could clearly be sure he made. The landing of the Chief's ship would only be his second experience under fire.
After the two had talked for about an hour, the Captain's voice echoed throughout the ship.
"Master Chief and escort team, board landing shuttle 13 on the double."
Before going, a quick stop was made and the Chief slipped Cortana into his helmet.
The Spartan and five other marines followed a series of hallways until they came to a large launch bay. In the center of the bay, a large shuttle sat, its gray surface rugged with plasma burns and bullet holes.
"She's a shitty one, but she'll hold," a voice startled the Chief.
A middle-aged man, with a thick mustache on his face stepped forth from behind the six, wearing a pilot's attire.
"Good to meet you, Master Chief," he said. "The name's Dino Perez. Shall we board, gentlemen?"
The marines and the one they were to guard jogged up the inclined ramp up and into the troop area. Taking their seats, the ramp closed up to form a door at the back of the passenger room.
Dino's voice came over the intercom.
"We're out in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!"
The Spartan felt his body jerk to the side as the ship launched from the Ion, rocketing at serious speeds.
A few latches popped up on the walls, bearing windows underneath.
"All right, a view," Sloan said, leaning back in his seat.
Ahead of the ship, the Chief could see the planet of Dracon. Its huge form towered over the shuttle as it neared the giant ever more.
The other marines had introduced themselves.
David Armstrong, Leo Fisher, Sam Green, and Jay Crosby.
To the Chief, they all seemed like green rookies.
Time seemed to fly before the pilot shouted, "ETA twenty seconds!"
The windows seemed to act as picture frames, framing gruesome scenes that lingered below. It would be a hell down there.
It all happened too fast.
The shuttle touched the pad, the ramp flew open and a stray plasma bolt hit Armstrong in the face.
The Chief sprinted down the ramp and took cover behind some storage crates on the landing zone. In front of the crates, hundreds of human and Covenant soldiers battled. It was a massacre.
A hunter lumbered up the pad's ramp and put himself right on top of the Chief's position. Not even knowing the Spartan was nearby, the hunter grunted as he sent a fuel rod projectile into the passenger area of the shuttle. The Master Chief looked back and saw that the alien's shot passed right over the head of Fisher and continued on until it went through the doorway to the cockpit. An explosion rang out and Dino Perez's head came rolling down the ship's ramp, his neck stub smoking from the bottom.
"Oh Jesus!" Fisher screamed as he blindly ran forward.
The hunter lunged forward, passing the crates up, and slammed its indestructible shield right into the marine. Fisher's body went flying into a steel wall nearby and landed in such a way that his head ended up under his buttocks. His back had apparently been shattered.
Sam Green came running from nowhere, firing useless shots at the colossal behemoth. He suddenly became a mess of meat chunks and random body parts when the hunter decided to send a projectile right into the man.
The Chief had a shot and he took it. The Spartan lodged an M6D round into the hunter's soft orange back. It toppled over forward, its limbs twitching every now and then.
The Master Chief looked around to get an idea of how the other two were doing. Crosby's lower body lie nearby in a crimson pool of its own blood.
A plasma grenade.
Sloan's body rested on the shuttle's ramp. A trail of blood running down and onto the landing pad, forming a small puddle.
The Chief thought of the marine's children and wife. It would be hard for them. Just like it had been for so many others. It made the Spartan really think about how sensitive the human body was. He became thankful that he had green suit of high tech armor surrounding him.
"They're all dead," Cortana said. "Let's go."
And with that, the Master Chief made a full sprint into the chaos that surrounded the landing pad.

Into the City
Date: 23 July 2003, 7:23 PM

*Note: You should probably read the prequels.*

___________________________________________________________





The Master Chief ducked down as the charred remains of an Elite flew right over the top of his helmet. Utter pandemonium surrounded him. Dead marines and Covenant alike were scattered in the grass, some not even recognizable.
"Sir!" someone "human" shouted. "Master Chief, sir!"
A Seraph, pursued by a Longsword bomber flew over head, their screaming jets drowning out the sound of battle for a brief moment. The Longsword fired its guns and the hits were dead on. The Seraph caught fire and took a nose dive into the landing pad that the Chief had arrived on. The pad exploded into a bright blue cloud of fire that sent soldiers, both alien and human, flying everywhere.
"MASTER CHIEF, SIR!" the voice shouted again.
The Spartan turned around and behind a battle-hardened Colonel crouched.
"Sir!" he said. "You need to come with me. There's a trench for my troops a few meters this way. Follow me!"
The Chief and the Colonel got on their stomachs and began inching their way forward through the bodies. A marine tumbled over onto the Chief's back and began screaming.
The man's lower legs were gone.
The Master Chief kept crawling. Nothing would stop him.
A fallen Elite landed right in front him, but he kept crawling.
Finally, they arrived.
The Chief hopped down into the safety of the trench. The Colonel's marines would stick their heads up every one in awhile and shoot a few rounds. There were only fifteen of them.
"See these fifteen?" the Colonel asked.
The Chief nodded.
"They're all that's left of the one hundred men I was given to command."



Tuka Hanamee stood in the observation room, staring from the large window out into space. He had watched the human transport leave. It had gone to Dracon, and tomorrow, so would he and his squad. They would crush the human in the palms of their fists and let his particles drift from their hands like sand. It would be glorious. The humans knew him as "The Scar" and he would strike even more fear into them after crushing their green super soldier.



"By the way, the name's Winter!" the Colonel shouted over the sounds of combat.
"Nice to meet you, Colonel!" the Chief raised hi voice. "How'd you know I was coming?"
"UNSC HQ radioed in and told me you were coming! That's how I knew to be ready for your arrival at the landing pad! By the way, I'm sorry about what happened to those escort guards! I saw the whole thing!"
The Chief ignored the apology and continued on with his business-like attitude.
"I've just got instructions for us to head to city limits and meet up with a pair of Spec Op marines," Cortana alerted.
"Roger that," the Master Chief responded. He turned to the Colonel. "I've just got instructions to make my way to the city."
"My squad and I'll escort you, Chief," Winter said. "The limits are about three miles through that tree line."
It suddenly became clear to the Spartan how earth-like the planet of Dracon really was. There were trees and grass and clouds. However, the clouds had a pinkish tint to them, but they were clouds none the less. The Chief had never really had time to look, but he now saw that the Covenant and human troops had been fighting on a huge plain. It would take a dead sprint to get to the woods, and there would be no cover.
The Colonel interrupted his thoughts.
"UNSC's ordering our boys to move back! They're calling in some Longswords to glass the Covenant occupation in the area! Here's the plan: the second our boys with wings fry those bastards, we begin running the three hundred yards to those woods a..."
The Colonel was interrupted when a shot-up marine toppled over and into the trench. Winter continued.
"Anyway, as I was saying, I don't know if there's any hostile occupation in those trees, Chief. We'll just have to pray."
The Spartan nodded and looked to the sky as five black triangular shapes came into view off in the distance.
"Get ready, to move marines!" the Colonel shouted. "When those Covenant fry, we fly!"
The Longswords began to get closer and closer.
Seeing this, the Covenant began running back in the human's opposite direction. Hundreds of marines cheered, but quickly stowed the happiness and began to leap into the trenches. The blasts would be large.
The Longswords roared right over head, leaving tumbling black bombs in their wake. The explosives hit their marks. Hundreds of Covenant blood and body parts littered the air as bright yellow clouds of fire engulfed the army.
The Chief, along with many other marines, hugged the trench bottom as a fiery rage passed overhead. A Jackal came sailing from nowhere and landed on the Colonel. The unfortunate alien was fire and Winter's uniform began to catch flame. Quickly withdrawing his M6D, the Chief leaned over and shoved the barrel into creatures face.
Purple blood splattered the trench.
The Spartan, lying on his back, took the Jackal with his arms and tossed it straight up into the air. It drifted away in the river of fire that passed over the trench. Once the hell above ceased, the Colonel shouted something that no one could understand, due to the ringing in their ears, but everyone knew that it was time.
It was when the Chief climbed out of the trench that the adrenaline kicked in. He began sprinting towards the woods, full speed. Some Covenant, who had been far off from the blasts, began sharp shooting at the squad of sprinting marines. A man ahead of the Spartan dropped onto his face as a plasma bolt passed through his kidney area and out of his left thigh.
He fell to the ground screaming, "Help me! Help me! Oh god it hurts!"
But his cries were soon silenced when a fuel rod projectile slammed into the wounded soldier's position.
The Chief kept running. Only a hundred yards to go now. Almost there.
The Spartan thanked god when he reached the shade of the forest. He had made it. Looking back, he only saw two surviving marines running for his position.
Colonel Winter and some other man that he didn't know sprinted wildly.
A plasma bolt struck the man next to Winter in the neck, and he limply dove forward as he lost his strength, and along with it, his footing.
Finally, the Colonel reached the wood.
"Jesus, they wiped us out," he panted, bending over to catch his breath.
"We'd better get moving, Colonel," Cortana said, over the com channel.
Winter nodded and the two began making their way deeper into the forest.
Eventually, as the pair walked on, it became quieter and quieter. The sounds of exotic birds and strange animals were all that could be heard. Although all was peaceful, the Chief was on high alert. Every click or animal mating call made him flinch. Any suspicious looking shape or tree was put in his sights until confirmed harmless. It was uneventful walk, but the sound of battle and random firing could be heard ahead.
It was when the Master Chief and Colonel Winter came to the forest's end, that they saw the huge city of Dracon. Named after the planet, Dracon was a metropolis, housing millions of residents and offering all kinds of jobs that attracted people.
However, many of the buildings were in ruins, or on fire. Dead bodies and charred cars littered the streets. And every one in awhile, a lost marine or Covenant troop would pass by, running in and out of buildings and ruins. Even the combat was destroyed. There was no organization. It was every man for himself.
"Holy shit..." Winters said, staring in amazement at the urban environment.
"We'd better go in," the Chief said doubtfully. "But stay on high alert, Colonel."




A Grunt came waddling into Hanamee's quarters.
"Please forgive any interruption, your Excellency, but our landing pad army was obliterated and the green soldier has run off in the direction of the city. The ship's commander said you will board a transport along with your squad at this very moment," the small alien squeaked the words cautiously, trying not to piss the great Elite off.
"Very well," Hanamee growled, shoving the Grunt towards the doorway with his foot. "I will board with along with my squad shortly.
Once the squad had boarded the drop ship, it rocketed off and into space, it's purple, U shaped body nearing Dracon.



A lost Grunt quietly tiptoed in front of the Master Chief. It's back was turned to him, and the heavy sound of its methane breathing signified that it was nervous. The Chief stuck his hand out behind him and made a "come here" sign to the Colonel.
Winter knew what he wanted and handed him a combat knife. The Spartan grasped it tightly and stealthily moved up to the back of the alien. A swoosh and a hack rang out, and the Grunt's head rolled from its shoulders and onto the ground. Its small little body collapsed forward and began to twitch violently.
Colonel Winter had to admit that the Chief knew his stealth tactics. He was an expert at silent killing. So good, it almost scared him.
It was after the two humans had covered a hundred yards by sneaking, that another Covenant soldier came into view. A Jackal stood, fidgeting anxiously, its back facing them both. With knife in hand, the Master Chief, shoved the blade through the back of its neck, damaging its much needed vocal cords. It let out what sounded like a very hoarse cry and fell dead. Its shield hit the powdery rubble and dust, causing a sizzling sound.
A powerful Elite apprentice stood straight up nearby. His excellent sense of hearing told him something. The sizzling sound. It was a shield. Knowing something was wrong, the powerful warrior charged out from behind an overturned car. Screaming wildly, it ran at the Chief firing accurate bursts of plasma fire.
Startled, the Spartan squeezed his assault rifle's trigger. The sounds of bullet and plasma fire collided, the two noises battling over each other.
In the end, the Elite lay on its back, its body full of small, smoking holes. A purple puddle grew larger and larger from underneath the corpse.
Just then, the smell of burning hair reached the Chief's nostrils. He down to his right and there beside him, lay the body of Colonel Winter. A plasma bolt had hit him directly above the forehead, apparently frying some of his hair. The Master Chief turned the body over so that the Colonel's eyes stared up at the pinkish sky. With two fingers, the Spartan closed the valiant soldier's eyes. He was now on his own, and had no idea of where in the hell he was supposed to be.

Rendezvous
Date: 31 July 2003, 12:55 AM

NOTE: Remember to read all prequels! This is the only series I've done, so every title that you see is a part of this. Just click on "more by this author".



The Master Chief, sat, extremely alert behind an abandoned and overturned car. Colonel Winter's cold, dead eyes stared into his as the hole in the corpse's head smoked. Something moved nearby.
A footstep.
Something jumped around the corner of the car and the Spartan jumped.
"Wait!" Cortana shouted as the Chief brought his assault rifle up. "He's a good guy."
"Sorry about the startling moment there, sir," a Special Ops marine greeted. His black and shiny armor gleamed in the pinkish light. "My name is Private Farrell and if you'll follow me, we can meet up with the others in very short time. The whole damn city's Covenant infested."
Tell me something I don't know, the Chief thought.
Without warning, the Private kicked it into high gear and began jogging quickly across the road. The Chief mouthed a thank you to the dead Colonel and left the cover of the automobile. Once the two reached the opposite sidewalk, they began making their way towards a street corner.
Suddenly, a hunter rounded into view. Startled and angered by its encounter with the humans, it made a seriously strong charge in their direction. Just as it was ready to collide with the two soldiers, a shot rang out. The behemoth doubled over and dropped forward, its head landing on top of the Master Chief's left boot.
"You owe me, Farrell!" a distant voice called out as a small black figure rose into view on a building top. It was another Spec. Ops marine, apparently a sniper from the obvious shape of his gun.
"We could've had him, you crazy bastard!" Farrell called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Now come down here!"
"Sure thing!"
Private Farrell turned to the Chief.
"Sir, meet Private Kirk Abraham," he said.




Tuka Hanamee and his squad shifted uneasily as the ship rocketed towards the ground. It would land in the center of the city, which, on the Covenant's side, was the best place to even go around.
The ship screeched to a halt and landed as its bay doors swung open. The squad of Elites leapt onto the concrete street and shook the stiffness from their bodies. Immediately, they became aware of the task at hand, and sprang to alert. A large temporary Covenant camp lay before them. Surrounded by the camp, large human towers surrounded the center.
Although, the buildings were secure, there was still the threat of snipers however. And the Covenant soldiers had to make haste if they were going to move from building to building. No human had showed its face in the area for months, though.
"We will go to the armory tent and recharge our weapons," Hanamee announced. "Then we shall begin the hunt. The green super soldier is always around the largest of battles, so we will be constantly involved in heavy fire."
The squad nodded and prepared themselves mentally for the hell that lie ahead.
Hanamee added, "This is for the war. Killing this human will turn the tides of it. The gods will greatly bless us for this."



Abraham, Farrell and the Master Chief walked in a blockade-line formation down an empty, rubble-coated street. Month old bodies lay in random areas. They hade been walking for thirty minutes and the Chief had only counted three dead Covenant bodies. And they were Grunts. It was easy to tell that no Marines had been around when this particular area of the city was attacked. Strangely, Abraham spoke up.
"There were no marines in this particular area when the Covenant attacked. All of the skeletons and dried corpses we're passing are entirely civilians."
The Chief passed a small child. The body had gone through decay, but it was easy to tell it had been a boy. He looked about eight. At his feet lay a woman, her arms outstretched. She was on her stomach and apparently had been holding her child when a plasma bolt had hit her in the back. She had dropped him.
It was a good thing the Chief had a tinted visor, because his face became twisted with sorrow. But the sadness didn't last long.
A sizzling blue bolt flew by right between Abraham and Farrell's heads. A cobalt Elite hollered a threatening warning towards the humans and ran back into an ally way.
"I'll cover you!" Abraham whispered, crouching down with his sniper rifle at the ready.
The Chief hurried over to an off-road car and began shooting the hinges of the passenger door. The Spartan ripped the door from the vehicle and brought it up so that it became a shield. The alien stuck its upper body out from the ally and fired three shots in the Chief's direction. The bolts hit the door, searing the metal. The door wouldn't hold out long.
Abraham fired a shot but it was a poorly aimed round and a hole appeared in the brick behind the alien's head. The deep-voiced bastard once again withdrew himself from view back into the ally way.
Farrell, carrying an M-110 support gun, began laying dense waves of bullets at the Elite's area of appearance. Large chunks of brick and metal flew from the buildings' walls as the large bullets sprayed the area. The bullets had a perfect angle. The rounds passed right at the edge of the ally's entrance. If the hostile Elite even stuck the top of his head out from his cover, it would explode in a purple cloud of gunk.
Staying out of Farrell's line of fire, the Master Chief made his way towards the ally way. Finally getting there, the Spartan froze in horror. The goddamn alien had been a trap. The Chief stared into the barrels of two Hunters, four Grunts, two Jackals, and the Elite. One of the Jackals hollered something and all of the Covenant troops opened fire at once. The plasma bolts from the Grunts, Jackals and the Elite hit the Chief first. His shields drained and his body became weak and hollow-like. After the wave of plasma bolts, came the Hunters' projectiles. The blast threw the Spartan from the Covenants' line fire.
The Spartan hit the pavement and lay still. The strong taste of iron weighed heavily on his tongue and he felt as if he was going to pass out. Farrell continued to fire but his clip drained and the loud staccato of the machine gun halted as the marine began to reload. During this time, the Master Chief regained enough strength to toss two frag grenades into the ally way. The double "booms" rattled the Spartan's chest cavity and purple, blue and orange blood shot from the occupied Covenant position.
Seconds later, a Hunter staggered from the blast zone, his left arm dangling from his body by only a few muscle strands. The behemoth was in bad shape. Large, gapping holes in his armor leaked blood and a trail of orange lay behind him. The huge alien grunted, shuttered, and fell onto his side.
"Well done, sir!" Abraham's voice echoed. "They're dead!"
The Chief's vision began to dim and ripple, but it soon snapped back. The Spartan stood up and onto his feet. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his chest. His breath rushed from his lungs and he doubled over.
"Chief! Chief!" Cortana shouted. "Jesus, you took a hell of a hit back there!"
"Private Abraham, Private Farrell, the Master Chief requires medical assistance immediately!"
"Roger that, Cortana," came Farrell's response. "There's a small medical tent about four blocks from here. We can..."
Farrell ceased his sentence as a Covenant drop ship roared overhead.
More enemies were coming in.



Tuka Hanamee lead his men through the bombed out building. Some human soldiers were patrolling the streets. It was a perfect chance for a surprise attack. The Elites seemed to be a good thirty feet up into the tower, so they took their positions. Aiming the barrels of their guns down at the unsuspecting humans, they waited.
Just as the pests came within good range, Hanamee shouted.
"Now!"


"So you're in Special Ops?"
"Yes I am. So...you have a wife?" Private Spears asked Private Wells.
"Yeah," Wells said, a warm smile coming over his mouth. "I think about-."
A plasma bolt took the smile from Well's face. He fell to the ground screaming as a bloody puddle formed under his body.
"Jesus Christ!"
Hundreds of plasma bolts sailed into the patrol. The whole group seemed to collapse. Private Spears turned around and ran backwards. He dove behind a bodiless wall and ran for the adjacent street.
He reached the road and then decided to randomly run down it. Off in the distance, he saw three human forms.



Abraham, spotting the silhouette, looked through his sniper scope and smiled.
"It's Spears!" he shouted.
The Chief did all he could to jog with his companions and was relieved when they finally reached the black-armored marine.
"Abraham, Farrell! How the hell are you?" The Private greeted, seeing others in his color. "I got orders to report to you two. I joined in on a patrol that was headed your way. I thought I'd just break of off of that patrol once they got close enough to the rendezvous point, but they got wiped out! I barely escaped with my life!"
"Hopefully we can say for the Chief IF we ever GET to the medical tent!" Cortana reminded.
The mustered up all of the strength he could and then began what seemed like a long, hard walk to the medical tent.

In A City of Chaos
Date: 9 August 2003, 2:40 PM

NOTE: Remember to read all prequels! This is the only series I've done, so every title that you see is a part of this. Just click on "more by this author". Also, I'm sorry it took so long. I'm having a serious case of writers block right now. Don't know why, though!




"Strip it!" Medic Arlington said.
Three strong pairs of hands took hold of the Master Chief's chest plate and removed it. The medic made a painful face as he observed the large bluish-black spots along the Spartan's ribcage area. A few broken ribs were not good, especially because of the short supply that this particular tent was in. A few other tents surrounded the medical tent, but they were mainly for patient housing.
"Bio-foam!" Arlington commanded. "I'm going to have cut this one."
After covering the Chief's chest in what seemed like a greasy lubricant, he sliced the flesh open. The Spartan could feel nothing but a small pain seemed to come over his body when he noticed his own blood spatter onto Arlington's apron. The lubricant was a numbing substance, and the Chief could be thankful for that.
After applying some bio-foam, Arlington grinned and said, "The foam should mend the broken ribs back together, Chief. We've also repaired your esophagus and stopped the internal bleeding. You're ready for combat, sir!"
Looking down at the large vertical line of repaired skin going down his chest, the Spartan looked over to his armor. After the hassle of putting his chest piece and helmet on, he nodded to the Special Operations marines.
"Let's move," he muttered and they were off.
As he was walking, the Chief stopped to slip Cortana back into his head. He temporarily stopped, just to let the ice cold pain make its run through his skull and then continued on.
"Feeling better?" the AI asked.
"Much."
"Good, because I've just got orders for us to head to Base 9 in the west side and pick up the last two marines."
"Okay, then," Abraham said. "Let's move it!"



The ambush had been a great one, thought Hanamee. The prophets would have been proud of the excellent work. The dead humans lay on the street, entirely alone. Their bodies would probably stay there until they rotted into dust.
Quickly, the Elites stood up, and made their way to the street below.
Hanamee turned to face his soldiers and then barked.
"During the small attack on that squad, I noticed a human escape," he said. "This particular human, however, was armored in the black armor that our veterans and elders are armored in. This human may be of importance to us, so we shall follow him."
The Covenant squad began a swift sprint in the direction Hanamee had seen the human go. It wasn't long before the alien troops broke out from the small back streets and onto a huge main road, which housed a human medical tent not far up.
"From the direction that the human ran, he would have made his way in this direction," a veteran spoke up, pointing one of his long, boney fingers in the left direction.



Medic Arlington stared in horror as the silhouettes came into view when they became visible through the yellow fog that lingered on the streets.
"Code H.A.!" he shouted as loud as he could.
"Hey, doc, what the hell's a code H.A.?" a marine asked, as he rubbed his injured leg.
"Hostiles Approaching!"
"Oh, Jesus!"
The small medical area became a chaotic hell as staff and patients began running around in a crazed frenzy.
Arlington grabbed the com mic and shouted into it.
"This Arlington to all staff! We have a code H.A.! A code H.A.! Get what ever weapons you can!"
Many of the nurses had been carrying small M6Ds, but the patients were defenseless. It wasn't long before everyone in the small camp had hid. There was a deathly silence that settled into the air.



Hanamee looked to one of his Strike Team Elites and held up his hand. The squad broke up and troops hid behind whatever they could.
Positioned behind a human transport device, Hanamee sent a plasma grenade sailing into the set of tents. The explosion rang out, followed by screams of pain and fright.
"Fire your weapons!" Hanamee shouted.
Not aiming at anything particular, the troops opened up on the mess of tents. The bolts ripped through the cloth easily, raising the chance of human casualties. It was a good attack.



The bolts ripped the through the tents like they were merely air. Medics and nurses collapsed into death's arms as the Covenant's swarm of blue death passed through. The grenade had gone off by the power generator, shutting down life support systems. The situation looked grim.
Medic Arlington clutched the pistol to his chest, as he sat up against a gurney, breathing heavily. He could hear the screams of things like, "Help me, doc!" and "My chest!" but he would surly die if he emerged from his hiding. He could only sit and wait.

The Plaza
Date: 18 August 2003, 10:21 PM

NOTE: Remember to read all prequels! This is the only series I've done, so every title that you see is a part of this. Just click on "more by this author".



Medic Arlington sat in the shadows of the surgery tent and breathed heavily, begging God to help him. It was when the huge, gold-clad Elite jumped in front of him and glared at him, that he knew it was over. This particular Elite had an orange scar down hi face. Obviously, he was the legendary "Scar". The famous Covenant Elite known by everyone in the Corps for his brilliant tactics and merciless killing spirit.
It barked and Arlington fired the M6D that he so tightly clutched. The round caused the beast's shields to flicker, but this only pissed him off. With a roar, he kicked the Medic's gun-holding arm. The bones in Arlington's forearm shattered and the Medic lost his breath as the intense pain sent sharp spikes of fiery cramps to his brain.
"Oh, God! Jesus, help me!"
His forearm drooped over to one side, like rubber. He couldn't take it. His vision darkened and he became dizzy. Forgetting entirely about the hostile soldier before him, his head rolled to one side and he passed out. The last thing that ran through his mind was a loud zapping noise....Medic Dave P. Arlington never woke up.



Base 9 came into view and the Master Chief's stomach suddenly relaxed. The camp was large and well fortified. Large rows of manned heavy chain guns surrounded the area and patrols of twenty men a piece were scattered about the perimeter.
"Damn," Private Farrell muttered, admiring the base.
The Chief and his three accomplices were not given a hard time during the process of entering the heavily guarded encampment.
"Why in the hell is the place so heavily guarded?" Abraham questioned out loud.
"General Raven is stationed here along with Paul Haggler, Dracon's ambassador," Cortana responded over the helmets' radios. "Pretty important figures of this war, wouldn't you say? Okay, Chief, now that we're here, I suggest that you report to the General's tent. He's the one who radioed me, demanding we report here in the first place."
The four soldiers's passed their way through a small village of barrack tents before arriving at Raven's large, nicer tent.
The guard out front grinned at seeing the group.
"The two other marines are ready to go. They're inside with the general," he said.
"Thank you," the Chief replied, pushing the entrance flaps apart and stepping inside.
Two black armored marines greeted him.
One was an African American and stepped forth.
"Nice to meet you, Chief. The name's Miles Cordell. That there's Sean Riley," he said, shaking the Spartan's large, armored hand.
The Chief gave a short nod to each of them.
It wasn't long before they were back on the deserted, rubble-littered streets of the city.



After all of the hiders and survivors had been lined up and shot, Tuka Hanamee barked the order to move on. The squad swiftly left the medical camp behind them, as well as the row of bolt riddled patients, nurses and medics.
Hanamee could only guess which way the green human had gone. But along the way he became more confident in his chosen direction. Little clues of the super soldier's presence had been left behind. The streets of the city were very dusty and powdery in some areas from where the buildings had fallen or broken apart. The super soldier's footprint could easily be recognized as Hanamee learned very quickly. This particular human's foot was not the same as the others. When he would walk, his boot print left behind a small group of strange characters...most likely human letters or writing.
He would be easy to track, and he would pay in blood for his faults.



Abraham clicked his tongue on the top of his mouth, as the fifth Grunt collapsed and squirmed on the ground. Through the scope, the marine could see the Grunt was armored in an elegant purplish color. Apparently, the small squad had been a Special Forces group. Abraham swallowed as the thought that maybe he, his fellow marines and the Spartan were in deep Covenant territory.
He brought up this thought to the Master Chief, but Cortana responded.
"According to the UNSC's battle mapping database, this is UNSC territory... there just seems to be a scarce occupation of troops here, although it's odd. Still, though, our orders have not been changed. We are to make our way to the 13th Plaza. A security satellite orbiting the planet, captured images of two Prophets, under extreme guard, enter the Plaza's main building. Right after capturing these images, the satellite was blown to hell by Seraphs.
"Someone didn't want us seeing those Prophets, marines."
Taking Cortana's news and info seriously, the Chief and his men began to make their way towards the dead Grunts lying in the road. If they took this road back to the main road, they would end up right on Plaza 13.
The city was a scarcely occupied graveyard, the huge vacant skyscrapers being tombstones. Every once in awhile, the small group of marines would pass by some more bodies, mostly human.
"Damn, they really hit us hard," Spears muttered.
No one responded to his comment.



Hanamee roared with excitement. The two humans were doomed and the battle-loving Elite loved it to the core. The helpless pests scampered in and out of the rubble of a nearby bombing site, his men in hot pursuit. These particular humans looked to be non-military. They weren't dressed like human troops. They were civilians.
A female and a male, apparently.
Two of his men kicked up their running speeds and cut the humans off. His troops had them surrounded. The male human embraced the female in his arms and put himself in a shielding position. The female screamed and Hanamee's men opened up on them. The couple collapsed in a bloody form and never budged after wards.
The squad of alien warriors gave looks of triumph and victory up to Hanamee.



It seemed like hours but it had only been a good thirty minutes before the Plaza came into view.
"...My god," Farrell said, looking at it.
At least twenty Covenant troops occupied the Plaza outside. There was absolutely no telling of how many were lurking around in some of the nearby shops and stores. The large mall in the center of the Plaza was in large pieces, so at least that area wasn't a problem.
Over all, the Chief figured that it was going to be a hell getting a hold of those Prophets. But it would have to be done...and with that thought, the Spartan gave the signal.

Assualt of Plaza 13
Date: 5 September 2003, 2:59 PM

Note: 1) Sorry guys, it's been awhile. Too long as a matter of fact! 2) Remember to read all prequels! This is the only series I've done, so every title that you see is a part of this. Just click on "more by this author".



The marines and the Master Chief approached the large Plaza with as much caution as possible. Fastening their silencers onto their guns, the small squad began their dangerous approach to two of the closest aliens.
A tough looking hunter, apparently chatting with his bond brother a few feet to his left, was totally unaware of the humans coming up behind him.
"Three aim at one," the Chief radioed.
The marines responded by following the order. Three aimed at the one on the left, while the other three aimed at the one on the right.
The Spartan nodded.
A small series of clicking rang out as the marines squeezed their triggers.
Spouts of orange gunk sprang up from the Hunters' exposed backs and the behemoths toppled over, dead.
None of the other Covenant responded to this.
It was when a small patrol of Grunts began approaching the humans' position, that things got a bit too ugly.
The Master Chief knew that if the little pests saw his squad that would be it.




It was when Gergep saw the humans standing ahead, that he knew something was terribly wrong.
"Quickly!" he shouted. "Radio for an assault team!"
"What are you speaking of?" the patrol's officer asked. "Why an assault team?"
"Because I see the green human!"




Off in the distance, the Chief heard something that made his bones turn to ice. The sound of yelling Elites pierced the air. It wouldn't have that big of a deal if they hadn't been yelling battle cries.
Private Spears turned to look at the Chief.
"Aren't those battle cries?" he asked, confused.
"Yes," the Spartan answered uneasily. "But there are no other marines to fight the Covenant in the area."
"Then they know we're here!" Cortana shouted. "We need to take cover, we've been spotted!"
The squad of marines ran over to what looked to be a billboard that had fallen to the ground and leaned against a pile of rubble.
"We can only hope to hide here," Cortana said.
"Good luck to us," Abraham responded as he shot at the patrol of Grunts that they had seen earlier.



The soldier next to Gergep dropped to the ground as a human projectile passed through its face.
"Hit the ground!" the patrol officer squeaked.
The patrol dropped to the ground and onto their fronts and began inching their way forward towards a mound of rubble.
Gergep was about to shout that their methane tanks were exposed but another well-aimed projectile punctured the officer's tank, suffocating him. A bubbly foam spewed from the hole as the dying officer squirmed around, toying with his mask.
It wasn't but a few seconds after the rest of the Grunts had made it to the safety of the rubble pile that the officer died.



"I think I was able to nick their patrol officer," Abraham muttered, shoving a full magazine into his rifle.
After removing his fiber optic spy cord, Farrell stuck it out from behind the collapsed bill board. The cable's camera provided a clear and sharp image of the plaza. To his horror, Farrell observed a small party of two hunters and four crimson-armored Elites moving swiftly towards their position.
Farrell turned to the squad's sniper.
"Abraham!" he said. "We've got two Hunters, and four Elites moving in. They're off by about two hundred yards. See if you can't take care of them."
The Chief nodded in approval and Abraham went to work.
On his belly, the expert sharpshooter crawled out from behind the billboard and placed his sights on the front and centered Elite. The beast sprinted at a fast pace, so Abraham knew he would have to make these shots quick.
The sniper squeezed the trigger and the Elite's long neck broke in half as the response to his action. Its head fell to the ground and its body toppled over onto its side. The third Elite went down before the rest of the party took cover on the ground.
"They're screwed," Farrell chuckled, watching Abraham at work.
However, his laughs were short lived. A few seconds later a plasma grenade came sailing from nowhere and nestled itself onto Farrell's gun.
The private let out a small shout and tossed the gun at a nearby Grunt, who was apparently the culprit. The gun exploded into a shower of blue fire and sparks. The little alien flew off to the side, his left arm and leg both mangled from the explosion.



Gergep winced as the patrol's only grenadier died. He knew that he would soon join his dead comrade, as it was only a matter of time.

Scar's Last Battle
Date: 9 September 2003, 2:07 AM

Note: Remember to read all prequels! This is the only series I've done, so every title that you see is a part of this. Just click on "more by this author".


A sinking feeling dropped into Gergep's stomach. He knew it would not be long before he would join his dead comrades. Only three of his patrol members stood standing. So, doing the only thing he could do, he lobbed a plasma grenade into the humans' direction and then turned and ran. The clunky methane tank on his back made it hard to move fast, but he managed to stay low from the humans' line of sight.
It was after an explosion followed by three screams of pain and agony rang out from behind him, that he knew he was the only one left. This was it. He would either make it or not.



Farrell glanced over at the Chief, and smiled a large grin.
"Nice one, sir!" he complemented. "I haven't seen a grenade throw like that one in years!"
"It's all in the arm," the Spartan replied sincerely.
Private Abrahams swung his upper body around the side of the fallen billboard that the squad was hiding from behind.
A neon blue bolt zipped by the side of his head, sizzling his sideburns.
"Jesus!" he shouted, going back into cover. "They're right outside, Chief."
"Wait for them and try to keep quiet," the Master Chief whispered.
It was when a looming shadow suddenly became visible from around the side of the billboard that the Marines began to feel nervous. It was obviously and Elite's shadow. It was in a crouching position and seemed ready to spring out at any moment.
Then suddenly, without any kind of warning, the merciless Covenant warrior stuck its plasma rifle around the side of the billboard and stared its barrel right into the Marines. Time seemed to slow down as the alien let out two three bolt bursts.
Abraham had seen the gun fly around the corner, and had already hit the ground but Private Farrell was not so lucky. The bolts struck his chest and he fell to the ground, shaking uncontrollably and making quiet sounds of pain.
The Master Chief played the Elite's game, and lobbed a fragmentation grenade around the side of the billboard. An explosion rocked the Spartan's bones and shortly after, a small shower of purple blood sprayed from around the side, followed by non-human moaning.
"Hell yeah!" Private Spears shouted. "Serves you right, you goddamned assholes!"
Everyone's attention suddenly went to Farrell who was still barely alive and breathing. However, the attention that the wounded Private got was short lived. Both of the Hunters rounded the side of the billboard and made a full charge at the Marines. Small clicking sliced through the air as the Marines fired their silenced assault rifles, but the rounds plinked and bounced from the walking tanks' armor like spitballs.
The largest one headed for the Chief. It stretched its body to its full height, its arms ready to come down upon the Spartan's head. But it just so happened that the Chief had other plans in mind. After shoving his assault rifle's barrel up against the Hunter's small exposed neck, he opened fire. The beast fell backward with his head hanging on only a few strands of muscle.
The other Hunter was playing a tackling game with the other Marines. It was when the Hunter came to Farrell that things got ugly. The terrible Covenant raised its huge metal boot and positioned it right above the Privates face.
Farrell let out a long scream, but it was cut short when the Hunter brought its foot down on his face, sending brains shooting from the top of the soldier's head.
After dealing with that, it then turned to face Abraham. Its fuel rod gun glowed green as it powered up a strong blast.
"Not today!" the sniper screamed, firing a well put round into the behemoth's gun barrel.
The weapon exploded into a cloud of green fire, blowing the Hunter's lower arm completely off of his body. The giant beast stumbled back in pain, and began to make weak lunges of aggression at Abraham. The Chief put it out of its misery.
Stepping out from behind the billboard, the squad could see what had become of the Elites. The Chief's well placed grenade had blown one completely in half. Another lie on the ground, its front end appearing to be raw from all of the fragments. The other two looked normal, but a few shrapnel entree points were visible on them.
The Master Chief was just about ready to continue on when one of the fallen Elites began to writhe and squirm around. It soon stopped after Abraham placed a round in its face.



From the other side of the bombed out Plaza, Tuka Hanamee and his squad stood, perfectly motionless. Hanamee gripped his vision intensifiers tightly as he watched the green human. He had seen the fight and what the capabilities of this super soldier were.
A noble Veteran stepped forth.
"I have confidence in our abilities," he said, trying to give a word of encouragement.
Hanamee growled. "He is strong and smart, but I am better. And when we finally meet, he will die a very painful death. I will skin him alive and shoot down his comrades."
But deep down inside, Hanamee was actually scared.



Gergep had just reached the outskirts of the Plaza when he had heard the combat, but he continued to run, determination running strong in his blood. He would gather a group of comrades and they would take down the evil humans and their leader.
"That is what I'll do!" he muttered defiantly. "I hope..."



Being as careful and watchful as possible, the squad of Marines made their way across what used to be a parking lot until they arrived at a mall-like structure.
Private Spears turned to ask Farrell for his fiber optic cable and then sadly remembered what had become of the good man.
Sensing the sadness Private Cordell spoke up.
"Private Farrell was a good man. He was a young father of two and surely made a great husband. But we cannot let these thoughts get in the way of our mission."
Everyone agreed and continued for the entrance.
In the entrance way, an Elite sat aboard a Ghost. The strange vehicle sat idle, ready for its pilot to move it when he saw intruders.
Private Riley quickly slid the rocket launcher from his back and sent a flaming projectile towards the Ghost. The mini missile slammed into the Covenant hover bike and it exploded into a shower of blue sparks and clouds of fire. Its pilot's flaming body came flying from the depths of the explosion and landed in front of the Marines.




Hanamee and his squad entered the back of the building and immediately made their way to the Prophet's room.
The squad entered in the middle of a meditation session.
"I apologize, great Prophet," Hanamee said. "But there is a group of human soldiers outside the complex. They are making their way in and we've come to protect you."
"Thank you, Hanamee," the Prophet replied calmly in an elderly voice. "You never quit impressing me. Your loyalty to the Covenant race is great and you will be rewarded after the death of these humans."



After finishing off a small guarding squad of Grunts, the Marines and their Spartan continued on. They quickly made their way through the plaster littered building and passed many Covenant computers and temporary camp supplies along the way.
"From what it looks like," Cortana observed, "the Covenant were planning on making this a major assault head quarters."
"No shit," Private Spears muttered, admiring the equipment.



It came sooner that the scared Elite wanted it to. Outside the room, they were moving about. The end was near, but Hanamee didn't know for which side. The human was incredibly strong, and this fight would probably be the most challenging one he had ever encountered.
Suddenly, the door blew open, and the humans poured into the room.
A strong surge of adrenaline rushed through Hanamee's veins as he let out the battle cry for attack. His squad of Veterans and Strike Team Elites rushed at the humans, firing insanely. The scene was that of total awe.
Hanamee sprang into action. Sprinting into the small battle, he began firing at the humans. One that appeared to have a sniper rifle, aimed at him, but Hanamee quickly put the sniper down with a bolt to its face.



The Chief's body went nuts. He began bashing and smashing, shooting and gouging. Red and purple blood drops spattered against his visor.
Private Spears fell to the ground, the back of his head missing. Next to Spears lie Riley. His squad was dying quickly. Suddenly, the Chief realized that it was only he and Cordell left.
But just as this was noticed, Cordell went down.
Looking at the Chief, he shouted, "Go! I'm done for! Just go!"
Cordell pulled four of his grenades out and ripped the pins from them. He then placed the live grenades next to a dead Elite, who had dropped four of his grenades when he died.
The Master Chief dove from the room, and was soon deafened by the explosion. Part of the room's wall blew out and then there was silence.



The last thing Tuka Hanamee saw was the huge wall of fire that rose up and enclosed his body. The burning took the breath from him and he could no longer fell his legs or arms. Suddenly, he realized that he was dying and his life flashed before him.
All of his years at the Military Academy rushed by, and the awful day that he got his scar for which he was known so well for. And then, just as fast as life had come to him, it left his tattered body, and he died.
After the smoke had cleared, the Chief cautiously made his way back into the room. The smell was almost sickening. Blood and gore coated the ceiling, walls and floor. Arms and legs, both human and Covenant littered the ground.
In the corner of the room, the Prophet sat, his floating chair gently bobbing up and down. Seeing the Chief, the Covenant leader fumbled for a plasma pistol clipped to the side of his chair.
The Spartan casually walked over to the alien and bashed the butt of his rife on the side of its head. The Prophet's eyes rolled back and its head fell to one side, as it became unconscious.
After dragging the Covenant leader from its chair, he walked over and stuck the Elite know as Scar's head on top of a long, sharp piece of steel.
He then began to parade through the streets back to Base 9. He encountered some Marines along the way, and they almost fell over dead at the sight of the Prophet AND the head of the most feared Covenant warrior.



After all of his walking, Gergep had decided to follow the green human. Quickly approaching from behind, he began to shoot at it. The last thing that the little Grunt saw was a yellow streak, apparently a bullet, up in his face.



Confident that the mission was complete and sad for his lost comrades, the Master Chief walked into Base 9.




END OF SERIES

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