|
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Halo Wing: Chapter Three - Information and Betrayal
Posted By: Ermac of VGPro<LittleMonsta77@aol.com>
Date: 2 March 2004, 3:10 PM
Read/Post Comments
|
"I know that voice."
The sergeant walked out in front of the six red soldiers pointing rifles at his face. He removed his helmet. Podman gasped. He knew that face.
"Hello, Grif. It is pleasant to see you another time."
The lieutenant made a face that looked like bitter dislike. Podman knew that the sergeant had caused his commanding officer a lot of trouble. Grif slowly returned the greeting.
"Hello, Donut."
The other four red soldiers' jaws dropped. Podman pulled back his visor.
"Waits! Donut was in the red squadron, right Sir?" "Yes. It was with me when I was posted in outpost of Gulch of the Blood #1." "and now it is blue" "Yes. You it is of the examples that more despicable I saw always, Donut of treason." "Thank you," Donut laughed.
Grif removed his helmet, putting it on the ground and handing his MA5B to Podman. He began to walk slowly toward Donut.
"You it negotiated the pretty rose armor for a dark kind of the blue one. Why?" "The blue squadron had more promise," Donut replied matter-of-factly. "I see. You betrayed in the ones for its proper benefit. You it left us for dead because the blue ones had looked at better." "Yes, for putting it simply." "And I can ask what they do for you?" Grif said, his voice raising as he walked closer and closer. "They had given to me to the excess of the command my proper squad," Grif replied, not backing up or looking at all scared. "Exactly that I was still First Sergeant." "They had made me a lieutenant, and you it could have too much been one!" Grif shouted, now inches from Donut's face. "I do not import myself with the rank." "Then what do you import yourself with?" Grif whispered. "Revenge."
Donut uttered the word so quietly that only Grif could hear. His lips moved so slightly that even Podman couldn't figure out what he'd said.
"For what?" Grif said, his voice cracking slightly. "For what was on in the Blood Gulch."
Grif took a step back, his chin twitching with sheer hatred.
"We were messing just around," he muttered. "And you he killed me almost." "But what sufficient we did not to alert your rough betrayal. You coward is one." "Calls me what you would, but you still will not make it outside of this alive base." "What it makes it to think of that one?" Grif whispered menacingly. "Launching we have got of the rocket and you has assault rifles. You have of the rifles of sniper---"
Grif suddenly grabbed hold of Donut's shoulders, spun him around, whipped out his M6D sidearm, and pointed it at the sergeant's head all in one seamless motion. The blue soldiers turned and shouldered their rocket launchers...
"Hold fire!" Donut bellowed.
Donut attempted to get away, but Grif's grip was like an iron vice that was felt even through the MJOLNIR armor. The sergeant winced in pain.
"You is of the blue, and I red. I can do what I have wanted to do for many of the years. Do not struggle."
Jenkins, Hardy, and Smith simultaneously shouldered their SRs, aimed at the heads of the leftover blue soldiers, and blew them apart.
"You do not have support and no plan. Thus typical coming of you. You it will be always a private a rose armor consuming of rookie in my mind." "That anymore is not the case. I am one of the a majority revered sergeants in the blue squadron and I was granted a Medal of Congressional Honor. I am not a rookie." "I am surprised that they had not given the purple armor to you when you transferred, Donut." "Medics wear the purple one," Donut muttered. "Medics wear the white, biatch!" "What about--" "He wasn't a medic," Grif grunted, clicking the safety off of his pistol.
Grif pulled the trigger, sending an armor piercing slug right into Donut's temple. The force broke Donut's neck and made him slump in Grif's arms. He dropped him coldly, spit on his body, then shouldered his MA5B.
"Examine the room of internal control and make examinations of any useful thing." "Yes, sir," they all said quietly. "I will explain everything soon to it."
The platoon entered the inner control room and found it emptied. There were stray weapons, shell casings, and wrecked computers scattered all over the place. There were only a few things that hadn't been destroyed: a refrigerator, a laptop, and a forgotten AI construct. Grif grabbed the construct and stuck it in his armor. It was Donut's. "I don't know you..." it said. "It says your name is Lieutenant Dexter Grif, serial number 9385902-4859DG." "That's correct."
Podman opened the laptop and saw that it had a complete record of the Blue Squadron's past, present, and future campaigns and Donut's diary. Also, and very surprisingly, it also contained information about every soldier, red and blue, on the Battle Creek planet.
"It's a database...how did they had started this information?" "Donut," Grif replied. "But he could not have known each and every soldier..."
|