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Legacy Ch.1
Posted By: David Yurman<dyshurman@gmail.com>
Date: 6 January 2009, 10:33 pm
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"Folks need heroes Chief; give em' hope."
Sergeant Major Avery J. Johnson, October 2552
Chapter 1: Kenya
December 25, 2552, Kenya/Africa/0130 hours Mission Clock
THE MASTER Chief jumped over the body of a Covenant Elite, the blood and ichor lapping at his titanium enforced combat boots. His assault rifle cackled several times, and six Grunts hit the ground running, their heads blown off and their guts spewed across the battlefield like dappled sunshine over the ocean. The scenery was bleak with despair, or it could just have been the tremendous amount of smoke in the air. The Master Chief looked around, seeing the scope of the battlefield from inside his triple reinforced helmet. The ground was covered in blood, the sky filled with smoke. The African plain had become a death zone, its victims either lifeless or screaming for never arriving help. The Chief had no time for helplessness however. He had an objective. The greatest imposing stature on the battlefield was a massive construct in the not so distant distance. It was shaped like an oval, with many massive pillars jutting from its circumference. The Chief will probably never know how such a large Covenant device appeared in the middle of what was once Kenya, nor did he care. All the Chief needed on his mind was his purpose in this battle, which was to blow up every dirty Covenant bastard and then shove their remains into the massive construct in which he will place a lethal bomb that will blow it from here to below hell. Well, that was what the sergeant had said.
Another Grunt appeared over the next dune, shouting for help at the sign of the monolithic green demon that was the Master Chief. However, the Chief wasn't in the mood for listening to this alien speaking. He pulled his trigger once and let out a three shot burst from his assault rifle.
In his mind, the Master Chief was recapping. He had landed here in a crashed Forerunner ship sent from the second Halo the earthlings had found. He took control of the ship single handedly, shattering the spirits and bones of its alien crew. Only the Prophet of Truth, the last hierarch of the Covenant, remained. Chief knew he was inside the structure somewhere, but not exactly where. The Forerunner ship had crashed several miles away. It self-destructed, sending a black cloud of smoke on the savanna. After crashing, an impossible sight became known to him; he was watching a massive war between Covenants and humans. On Earth. The only other time the Covenant had came to Earth was when they attacked with a small fleet. They had been destroyed quickly because of the Prophet of Regret's haste actions; he only brought a couple of ships. But now, things were different.
The Spartan's species were getting their ass kicked. Once the Chief arrived though, all of that changed. He wiped out half a Covenant army, which was a full day's work for him. He then found himself nearing this giant structure with tons of Covenant ships surrounding it. The Chief stared down on the structure from his cliff top perch. The structure's center emitted a massive laser beam that spanned light-years to its destination, which was the Halo that Master Chief, had just arrived from. The blast had had enormous power. The Chief, however, had survived. He had trudged to the nearest Marine outpost for further orders. And, much to his displeasure, his orders were to hike back to the structure he had just left from.
The energy burst from the structure had been seen from miles around. After much debate, FLEETCOM had come up with a theory. According to them, the beam was a remote activation, and basically the whole frickin' galaxy was going to go boom boom. Unless of course, the Chief could shut off the remote activation before it finished transmitting the firing codes to the ultimate weapon, Halo. The code took ten hours to transmit. It was crunch time.
Halo is designed as a protection against a parasitic race called the Flood, who kill people and take over their bodies. Halo, however, can't make the Flood die, it can only starve them. To do that, Halo has to wipe out all sentient life on the galaxy so the Flood won't be able to kill and eat anyone else. Who thought of that brilliant idea, right? Master Chief barely went over that detail though. The Flood weren't on Earth; that was the important thing. If they landed on the planet, the human race wouldn't have to worry about Halo blowing them up. The Flood will finish the job. So all he had to do was kill the Covenant, who were almost as bad. Almost. Oh, this will be fun, the Chief thought.
Soon after the Chief annihilated the Grunt's squad, he came upon a gruesome sight. A massive squad of Marines lay dead on the grass, surrounded by the slain Covenant they had killed. There was one Marine left however. An Elite major had the Marine in his grip, an energy sword posed right near the ensign's throat. The poor man was screeching curses; lying on the ground pinned down by the Elite's clawed feet. The Elite chuckled merrily and began to strike at his victim. Laugh at this, ugly, the Chief thought. He inserted about six rounds of lead into the Elite's four jawed mouth and watched them burst out the other end in a shower of visceral and blood. The alien's grip went slack, and his foot flew off the ensign's gut. The Marine stared numbly at the dead Elite before him, his mouth agape in surprise and relief.
"Get up soldier," the Chief said briskly. "Your gun's at your feet. Grab it and get a move on. We got aliens to kill, and I have a monument to blow up. Move it!"
The Marine was so shocked he couldn't speak. He looked in his early twenties, short black hair covered the top and back of his head. He was wearing half a suit of standard Marine uniform; a sleeve was missing, the armored vest was cut open, and he had a cut on one leg. The Marine was the healthiest looking human the Chief had seen since Delta Halo. The man grabbed his assault rifle, checked its ammo, and stood up. His green suit was covered in purple gore from the Elite that lay dead at his feet. Finally, he managed to speak.
"Th…thank you, sir. I don't really know what to say. I've never seen a Spartan before. Um… so, what do you need me to do?
"Just stay with me and keep your head down," responded the Chief.
The soldier responded with a brief nod and walked over to the Chief. He saluted, and then took his position behind the Spartan's back.
There was a civil war going on in the Covenant at that time. The Brutes, ape-like aliens, had sided with the Prophets against the Elites. The Brutes had the Drones, Jackals, Grunts, Hunters, and basically everyone else on their side. The Elites and Grunts on Earth however, knew nothing about the civil war. They had arrived before the Brute ships, and were following their orders. They had been away from the Halo for so long they had no knowledge of the betrayal that was taking place there. The Brutes had landed on Earth by now, but they were miles away from the Elites. So until things changed and the Brutes and Elites started fighting and a triangular war started, the Master Chief simply obliterated anything in his path.
The Chief and his new Marine companion trudged through the blood-stained grass of the Serengeti. Occasionally, they came upon a small squad of Grunts. The encounters were short and lethal. In a matter of hours, Chief and the Marine had left a trail of bloody bodies in their wake. In this time, Chief learned the Marine's name: Private Third Class Michael Terren. The ensign told Chief to call him Mike.
After walking through about thirty miles of grass, bodies, and assorted rubble, the Chief and Mike came upon a riveting discovery. A warthog, half buried in sand, lay in a small notch of land below a hill. The duo quickly dug out the warthog to find that it was upside down.
"Oh, great. Now how are we going to drive this thing?" complained Mike.
The Chief grabbed the side fender of the warthog and yanked, hard. The jeep flipped over, and all of the sand inside it spilled off the sides. Mike stared at the Chief in awe, his mouth wider than it was after the Elite's skull was ripped open by the Chief's gun. He turned to his Spartan companion.
"Can you teach me how to do that?
Chief chuckled and hopped in the driver's seat of the warthog. He motioned with his fist for Mike to grab the turret. After a quick check, they found that the turret was on full ammo. Whoever previously owned this warthog must have gotten killed before they could fire a shot. It was good for Chief and Mike though; they were going to need all the ammo they could get.
Inside the warthog, the two UNSC personnel made much better time then when they were walking. The massive structure came closer and closer as the jeep gained more ground. When the top of the structure was in sight, Mike cheered. Oddly enough, they were at the same spot that the Chief was standing when the structure sent out its transmition. They looked down at the structure before them. Mike let out a whoop. That is, until he saw the hundreds of Covenant bastards waiting at the bottom of the monolith.
"Oh, sh…" Mike was cut off by a fuel rod gun missile exploding at the warthog's wheel. The jeep was sent flying into the air and crashed upside-down on a sand dune. Mike was thrown clear from the hog and landed about ten meters away, unconscious. The Chief leapt out of the warthog right before it crashed and used the explosion to boost him toward a rock jutting out of the grass, all the way at the bottom of the cliff. The Spartan fell dozens of meters toward the rock and the small space between the cliff and the structure where the Covenant waited. He landed behind it and ducked down as the Grunts and Elites opened up on him, plasma spewing from their weapons. The Spartan poked his head out and lay down some suppressive fire on the foot soldiers. Several of them hit the ground, blood spewing from bullet holes all over their bodies. The Chief rolled out of his hiding spot and charged the Covenant soldiers, assault rifle cackling with pleasure at the lives it and the green-armored Spartan took. After taking several plasma shots to the chest, a red light began to blink inside his helmet followed by an annoying beeping noise.
His shields were down.
The Chief ran like hell toward the rock he hid behind before. Several shots hit him in the back, but thankfully his armor held. He jumped behind the rock, firing as he went. The bullets passed through Covenant armor and skin, and alien casualties mounted. The Spartan let loose more bullets and watched them do their job. After a couple of minutes, his ammo count ticked zero and the gun quit firing. Chief started down at the rifle for a brief second and then threw it to the ground. He whipped out his M6G magnum sidearm and began to fire. The weapon had a slower rate of fire than the magnum he had used on the ring; the Chief had found it on the battlefield. The bullets were also more damaging then assault rifle bullets, but there were less of them in the gun. The Chief exhausted that weapon and climbed the cliff back up toward the burning warthog.
The super-soldier checked around for his friend and finally found the ensign close to the hog. The Chief felt a pulse, so he knew that Mike was still alive. The Spartan quickly smacked the marine across the face to jolt him out of his toper. The soldier started but then relaxed when he saw the Chief in front of him. "I need my gun," the soldier said weakly.
"No way soldier, you're too delirious to hold a weapon. I better take it. I promise not to waste all the ammo. Rest easy. You'll be safe here; the hog will serve as shelter. Hide under it," the Chief told the marine.
Mike gave a weak nod and crawled inside the flipped warthog. He used what was once the upright driver and shotgun seat for a bed. The Chief didn't have time to check on Mike though. He grabbed his friend's assault rifle and jumped out of the shelter of the jeep to engage the enemy. What he saw left him speechless.
The Brutes had caught up with the Elites. The Chief had seen Brutes and Elites fighting before at the holy city above Halo, but not at this scale. Hundreds of the aliens charged each other, swords and guns flashing. The Brutes had been hyped up since the Chief last saw them. They now wore armor, and had plasma weapons that looked more like a human gun than a Covenant one. The weapons had two barrels and three bayonets at the bottom and sides. The Brute chieftains were armed with massive hammers that were used to crush Elite and Grunt skulls with gusto. The Elites weren't going down without a fight, though. They had energy swords, which were faster and more lethal than the Brute hammers. Black Brute blood spewed out of the holes the swords created, and Elite plasma weapons discharged balls of fire that tore into the Brute ranks.
As much as the Chief liked watching his enemies blow crap out of one another, time was running out. The signal beacon was almost fully transmitted. The Chief had less than an hour to go. He needed to take care of these guys, and fast.
"Oh, sweet salvation," the Chief said as he spotted something on the ground. A Jackhammer rocket launcher was half buried in sand. He dug it out and took off the safety. The little beauty was fully loaded.
Hu-rah.
The Chief targeted an especially large concentration of Brutes, the launcher's scope aimed at dead center. He pulled the trigger and let the rocket fly. Ten Brutes lay dead on the ground. The Chief was going to have a hell of a time.
Meanwhile, Mike was starting to crawl out of the warthog. Even though the Spartan gave an order, Mike wasn't about to miss the action. Technically, his El-tee was dead, so really, this Spartan wasn't in charge of him. He grabbed a magnum from the glove compartment of the warthog and slowly got up. He searched the landscape for his Spartan companion and saw him standing at the top of the gulch that the warthog landed in. A Jackhammer was in his hand, its two barrels ablaze with ozone and rocket fuel. The ground around him was covered in dust and blood; his armor caked with dirt.
It was a magnificent sight to behold.
Mike ran up the ridge towards the Chief, but was interrupted by a massive explosion next to him. For what was probably the tenth time that day, Mike was thrown in the air and landed unceremoniously on top of a sand dune. He exhaled as the breath was knocked out of him. The marine was searching for the source of the explosion when the remnants of a Ghost hit the ground about a meter from his face.
The ensign started and jumped back. Apparently that Jackhammer does more damage than I thought, Mike thought. He got back up and ran toward the Chief and took his position next to him, M6 pistol firing down at an armored Brute hundreds of meters down the cliff.
"Marine, I thought I told you to stay in the 'hog. Unless you want the crap blown out of you, I suggest you get back under that jeep. I don't have time for babysitting," the Chief yelled as he saw Mike coming up the ridge.
"But sir, I can help. I'm feeling much better now. I," Mike was interrupted by the Chief firing a rocket out of his Jackhammer. Mike's eardrums felt like they were going to explode. Not wanting to be deaf at the age of 23, the Marine ran back toward the warthog and crawled underneath it.
After telling the marine to take shelter, the Spartan let loose his final rocket on the Covenant platoon below him. At least a dozen Covenant lost their lives, and several more were wounded. The Chief leapt off the ridge and fell once more into the depression leading to the Forerunner monument. Wind rushed passed him, and his legs groaned as he hit the ground, but the Spartan didn't care. Some short assault rifle bursts blew out the brains and innards of the remaining aliens.
After searching several dead bodies, the noncom located a SMG and a battle rifle. Swapping both his assault rifle and empty launcher for the guns, he continued on. He briefly paused as to wonder why Covenant would pick up human weaponry when their own guns were considered better. Sensing that he would need a rapid fire weapon with more ammo however, the Chief quickly returned to the spot and grabbed his assault rifle. He slung the battle rifle over his back, and stuck the SMG in his hip holster.
It was time to kill some aliens.
The Spartan walked into the monument through a massive doorway. There were two black commando guards waiting for him when he entered. Several seconds after he entered, there were no more guards.
Whether the Covenant knew it or not, their worst nightmare had just entered the monument they had worked so hard to keep safe.
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