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He's Baaaaaack! Intro-A Swipe to the Stomach
Posted By: Killer_Fairy
Date: 21 October 2002, 1:35 am
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Just a Note: I would like to thank a few people before I get the ball rolling on the story. Props have to go out to HuntingU for his 'ideas'. Special props go out to kiro69 just for being himself, ...no matter how weird he got, Chris Lightbrin, and the Midwest Assassins, for being the greatest chapter in the 7th Column. Keep on Fraggin!
The glittering blue plasma sword hit the marine right in the stomach. She stood for a moment, before falling face first into the snow. But this wasn't any marine. This was a Spartan. Her enemy, a tall gold elite, laughed at his kill, before moving on, finishing the last of her team members. By the time he was done, the snow had turned pink, from the blood shed. He surveyed the area, making sure that no one was left alive, before hoping in his ghost and racing off into the steadily approaching evening.
The Spartan opened her eyes, and felt the incredible pain in her lower stomach. She knew her chances of survival were very slim at this point, due to her loss of blood. During this time here, lying on the snow, her life flashed in front of her eyes. How she was taken from her family, placed through rigorous Spartan training, and the killing. Death was now a daily thing for her. She passed out, as the moon started to rise.
"This is where the signal last came from" crackled a female voice over the pelican's speakers "We haven't heard from Alpha Team in over 3 hours...I'm dropping you off here, and I expect the worse". A Spartan jumped out of the back of the pelican, and swept the area with his pistol expecting a few remaining enemies, but found none. He sighed at the lot of bodies strewn around on the ground, and his eyes fell upon the armour of a Spartan, glittering in the moonlight.
"Oh, Shit" was all that he could say, as he recognized the armour of his friend Heather. Fearing the worst, he walked over and kneeled down beside her in the snow to check her pulse. He was surprised to find a faint pulse, so he called back the pelican.
"Hey, Sarah, we have a survivor down here, and we need immediate dust-off."
"Wow, Mark. I didn't think that you would find anyone! I'll be down in a minute" Mark flipped Heather onto her back, and saw the huge gouge in her armour that streaked across the mid-section. If it weren't for her shields, she would probably be dead, like the rest of the marines lying in the field. The pelican landed, and Mark picked up Heathers unconscious body, and laid her on a stretcher inside the heated back of the pelican. He climbed into one of the side seats, and the pelican took off.
Once the pelican arrived at the makeshift hospital, a crew was waiting at the landing pad to help Mark with the stretcher. Almost immediately, Heather was rushed to an operating room. Mark sat down on one of the little hospital waiting room chairs and took off his helmet, and placed it on the table beside him. Mark looked quite out of place in the waiting room, because he was just way to big for the little chair, and the gleam of his armour caught everyone's eye. He ran his fingers through his short black hair, and looked around the waiting room. There were 5 other marines in there and most were looking at him in shock. Most of them have never seen a Spartan before, especially one with his helmet off.
"So..." Mark said, trying to break the awkward silence in the room. All the marines took their eyes off the Spartan, and quickly looked away. Mark was used to this treatment, so he though nothing of it and looked at the door where they were helping Heather.
Almost an hour passed, and finally the door to the operating room flew open, as Heather kicked it open. She had a bandage around her middle, and was already strapping on bits of her armour, with 4 doctors all telling her the same thing...
"You need to let those wounds heal!"
"You can go back to battle now!"
"You need rest!" Mark chuckled to himself, Heather was fine. Heather was a lot different then the other Spartans. She was shorter, about average height, and had shoulder length brown hair. She was also very temperamental, and that was probably one of the reasons she was one of the best fighters. Once she got mad, no Covenant stood standing. She was also a pilot, of her own pelican, 'The Crane' (she also had a weird sense of humour). Her favourite weapon was the shotgun, because you could rush up and just blow the brains out of anything. She didn't have the patience to be a sniper, and her with a rocket launcher was suicide, because Heather had an itchy trigger finger, and usually fought in tight spaces. 'The Incident at Reach' proved this. Another one of her favourite weapons was the Covenant made plasma grenades. With a shotgun and those grenades, she was a force to be reckoned with.
Heather continued down the hall, doctors dragging off of her, trying to pull her back to the room where she could 'rest and heal'. But of course their attempts were in vain, as she was stronger then any man. She had her helmet under her arm, and her favourite hat on already that she wore at all times. Mark got up, sighed, and followed the ticked Spartan, and group of doctors. He quickly caught up, put his hand on her shoulder to stop her. She flew around to face him, thinking that another doctor was going to tell her to lay down again, and instead came face-to-face (so to speak) with Marks chest. She looked up at him.
"Look, I'm going back out there to teach that bastard elite a lesson...." Mark cut her off,
"Don't you think that you should get some rest?"
"I got enough rest in that frickin' field, I'm FINE!" She spat, turning around again, and continuing on her way down the hall. "I want my pelican ready VERY soon, a shotgun, and get me some plasma grenades" she told Mark without turning around or slowing down. Mark picked Heather up, and brought her back to her room. She hated when he would do this, but he had her arm pinned to her side, so she was helpless. Not only was she shorter, but way lighter, so it was easy for Mark. He sat her down on the hospital bed.
"You need your rest...I don't want you getting cut up again."
"Yeah, but...ok, fine. Only for 12 hours though." Mark was the only one that could calm her down, so they were almost always on a team. He started to help her to take of her armour.
"Hey, um...thanks, for...you know...saving my ass back there" Heather stammered out. She never thanked people much...or admitted that she was wrong.
"Well, I wasn't going to let you die there." Mark replied, and took her helmet and set it on the nightstand. He then remembered something "I'll let you change, I forgot my helmet in the waiting room. Be right back" so Heather, changed in to a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, and got into bed, cursing under her breath that she couldn't kick that elites ass now. She fell asleep quickly.
Mark got his helmet, and the marines were still there, watching him. He got an idea. He saw a seat in between 2 of them, walked over, and sat down.
"So, how you guys doing?" He asked cheerfully. The marines stared in shock at him again. "You guys are looking at me like I'm a grunt running around singing Christmas carols with a Santa hat on! Lighten up!" Finally, one by one the marines loosened up, and they talked for a while before Mark left to check on Heather, but she was already fast asleep.
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