 |
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
|
|
|
For The Sake Of A Flag: Pt 1
Posted By: Prophet for Hire<darkmagician117@comcast.net>
Date: 13 September 2004, 7:03 PM
Read/Post Comments
|
Ch 1: The Recruit
The air was whistling all around him. A bad omen, maybe, thought Private John Castro as he looked around at the place called Blood Gulch. It was so much different in person, looking down over the top of the ridge, where the ground was stained with the blood of fallen enemies and the blood of the allies. He was new, fresh out of the academy. He could hardly think about live rounds coming at him at 2000 meters per second, it made him sick to his stomach. He felt horrible, so he took out his pistol and started to clean it. BANG! He let out a wild shot as he cleaned the trigger. He had forgotten to put the safety on.
"Castro, what's your status", barked the commanding officer over the new headset he had received.
"It was nothing, sir", answered Castro.
"I said report, soldier", screamed the sergeant
Feeling stupid he replied, "I was cleaning my pistol, I forgot to put the safety on, and I accidentally pulled the trigger and it fired, Sir". There was a moment of silence. Then the sergeant ordered, "Come back to the base, Private". He could hear the other men laughing in the background. He put his pistol away and walked slowly back to the red base thinking the whole way of what he might have to endure when he got back.
One Week Later...
Loosing all hope, he fired one last time. He missed. He was a crappy sniper and he knew it. He had failed the sniping test at the academy four times and it looked like he'd failed the one here. Who cares, after all, the only weapon he really loved was the pistol, it was the one gun he found he could use exceptionally well.
However, the Sarge did seem to care, "You were sent here to be my sniper Castro, now why do you think that is if you can't snipe".
"I can pistol snipe, sir", He told him.
"Prove it soldier", said Sarge, while setting up a target. The target was small. Smaller than anything he'd ever shot at. He'd say the target was six inches wide and 8 inches tall.
He felt stupid for doing so horribly on the sniper test, so he decided to show of his pistol skills. From one hundred meters away, he fired eight shots quickly and accurately. The Sarge brought the target back and smiled, a rare occurrence with military men like Sarge. "Looks like we have a new sniper", he said while showing the target to the men. On it, there was a whimsical smiley face, made with bullet holes, which peered back at them all.
Chapter 2: My First Match
The Training had been tough. Six weeks of almost non-stop ducking, rolling, shooting, dodging, and fighting. It had definitely been hard. My body was battered beyond comprehension. I had gotten a broken arm while fighting the Sarge in combat training. I was shot regularly with rubber pellets to learn how to withstand pain. I had once fired my pistol for over two hours at a training dummy, because I was in so much pain I thought I could take it out on in inanimate object. Today the last training session before our big match with the blues and it was hot like hell out there in the open. We practiced attacking with me providing cover from the cave on the right side of the base. We practices close combat with assault rifles and shotguns. We even practiced sniping. I had gotten way better at sniping during the six weeks of training and was making six out of ten shots, even with moving targets. We ended at night with combat training. We were dismissed to our cots for the night. I was tired out, but instead of trying to sleep tonight, I stayed up and thought about the battle that would place tomorrow. I thought about all the men that would die for the sake of a flag. I was gonna make sure I wasn't one of them.
I woke up the next morning refreshed and feeling better than usual. I had a dream but I couldn't quite remember it. The match was in an hour. I washed up a little and put on my armor. I went down to the armory and picked out a sniper rifle and a pistol. I took the 6 clips for each. I was ready to go.
The Sarge was walking around in the base and ordering us to get ready. He brought us outside and we got in our positions. Mine happened to be right behind the big rock up on the hill behind our base. The other men were all depending on me to live. It seemed like forever, waiting up on the hill for the match to start. Suddenly I hear the Sarge on my headset,
"Ready marines, the match will begin...now"! I took up my sniper rifle and zoomed in on blue base. Three marines poured out and charged blindly out into the middle of the Gulch. I shot and hit the one with a pistol in the leg. He fell forward, shot his gun by accident, and hit his own man in the head. The man crumpled to the ground, dead. Meanwhile, two close range combat men with shotguns went through the teleporter. They got into a gunfight with two of our men. One of our men fell, but the two blues were killed also. I changed my attention to the blue base from which came a sniper. I shot at him, but missed, and he found cover. He had seen where I was shooting from and fired back at me. The bullet nearly hit me, but I ducked behind the rock. Hidden from view, he probably thought he killed me, because he left his cover to go through the teleporter. He was moving to slow, and so as soon as he came through the teleporter, his face fell apart and blood went everywhere as I shot him down. About one min later, I got the call saying that we had recovered the enemy flag and had won. Total casualties were 8 deaths for blue team and 2 deaths for our team. Next time we might not be so lucky, I thought as the team of now six made its way across the bloody ground to the place they were to call home.
|
