*note: tried to indent right and all that stuff, but it kept posting it so I gave up on that sorry.                                                                           First Blood

                                                                           ChucklesSpartan

l                                                                                Chapter 1

     "You were different." The words split through Greg's mind, he turned slightly, in his bed, mumbling in his sleep, he pictured he was in a meadow. "You did everything you were asked to, you didn't complain once."

     "I was different?" Greg asked in his mind to the woman's voice in his head, she was standing in front of him, he was slightly taller than her. Wind whipped her beautiful, long, brown hair, Greg felt his own hair moving on the top of his head. "What do you mean by that? I was just an average boy, like everyone else, until..." His voice trailed off, he felt anger. "That's what you mean."

     "You did everything you could, help arrived too late." She said while nodding. "In the end you couldn't save what mattered most." She rolled a pebble under her foot, back and forth. The meadow changed into a beach, with beautiful blue sky and water, the wind vanished, like it had never been there. "It happened here, didn't it." She turned to the sea, then back to Greg.

     Greg picked up a flat rock and skipped it on the sea. "It was my fault, if I hadn't charged them, my..." he found himself choking out the next word. "...family, would be here--now. "If I hadn't charged..." Greg started but was interuppted.

      "You would never meet me." The lady stated, Greg wanted to throw something at her.

      "But I don't know who you are! Where you live! What do you mean by meet you?" He kicked sand into the air, feeling totally helpless. "What was I supposed to do, there were five of them, and then the two..."

      "It was seven to one, taking one of their pistols like that was very brave, if it had just been the five..." The woman started.

      "I would've won!" Greg exclaimed. "But now, I've joined the army, not knowing even what they are! For the majority of my life I have been wondering and training, hoping someday I'll meet them, and then finish the battle that was started long ago! But it'll never happen!"

     "You will meet them." The woman stated matter-of-factly, trying to finish the matter. Greg turned his head right to look at her, but she was dissolving, like sand in the wind, and one of the four prong-mouthed figures was forming in her place, it had the golden armor on, the very same that it had had on the day his family had been...murdered. Greg lunged at it.

     Back in his room, Greg woke, as he rose in the matter of a second, he had pulled out the Magnum that he placed under his pillow, he sat on his bed, his legs stretched to the end, while the upper half of him turned and twisted, examining the room, finally after he had confirmed to himself, he lay back down in his bottom bunk and went back to sleep, until the horn in the morning rang... signalling the start of another day of hard work.

                                                                              Chapter 2

      Sharius Base, the sign read in front of the mess hall, the view of this sign kept on disappearing--being replaced by the sight of the top of his knees--and then reappearing, Greg read the sign each time, the letters were the only things to look at. 

     "Keep at it, those five hundred sit-ups aren't gonna do themselves!" Shouted their drill instructor, Leiutenant Smith, he was tall and strong, and kinder than all of the other instructors, but he pushed Greg and a few select others, a lot. Greg felt a bead of sweat roll from his left temple to his chin, then down his throat. But then Leuitenant shouted again. "And keep counting!" The effect was simultaneous.

     "Three hundred thirty-four!" Came forty-five shouts, filling the chilly morning with other sounds than the chirps of birds from the forest that was next to the base. Greg's abs had were beginning to burn, his breathing was heavy, he snuck a glance over at the man next to him, he was barely pulling himself up each time, and then dropping with a loud thud to the ground, his breathing was all gasping.

     "Come on man, keep at it, just keep breathing and it will be over before you know it." Greg whispered, the sun was beginning to show over the mountains. It would turn from cold to hot in a matter of minutes. The man's red face bobbed up and down, showing the weak representation of a nod. Greg's hair stopped bobbing with the motion, it was matted down by sweat, he kept listening to the gasps of the man next to him and realized he wasn't counting, that would be an extra hundred sit-ups at the end, the man would be lucky to get through these.

     "Four hundred fifteen," came the groups call, Greg kept counting too, he wanted to whisper to the man, to tell him that they only had eighty-five more, but he couldn't, Lieutenant Smith had strode over and was standing to the left of him, and the right of the man, the Lieutenant stared down at the man, Greg was certain he was going to shout about extra push-ups because the man wasn't counting, but he just looked at Greg again and walked away, Greg put into his mind to thank him later. Just then the worst possible person came striding to the field from the officer barracks, General Kent, he was merciless, he believed that every soldier would either follow the rules or pay the consequences. And, unfortunately, that included counting while doing sit-ups and push-ups, the General immediately spotted the man.

    "Why aren't you countin' soldier?" Came the deep voice the General insisted on pretending to have, in truth, he had an incredibly high voice that soldiers had been making fun of for years, but the General was now smart enough to fake his voice, making it sound deep and ancient. Of course, the soldier was too out of breath to answer. "I want an extra hundred push-ups out of you." The General said gruffly and began to walk to Lieutenant Smith, but was stopped in his tracks.

     "Come on! He's still doing the push-ups, and besides there are only twenty left!" Greg shouted, still moving in the up-and-down motion, knowing the count had turned to four hundred eighty a second ago. The General turned back at the outburst with an icy cold stare.

     "You can join him, anyone else wish to join these two?" General Kent shouted to the forty-five soldiers, everyone just kept on counting, the sun had now risen in the sky. Greg prepared himself for the extra hundred push-ups, they would be the longest of his life.

      An hour later, after the extra push-ups and the ten mile jog they had had to do, Greg was sitting at one of the long tables in the mess hall, he looked down at his meatloaf and decided he would rather use it as a pillow then eat the glob of poison that was on his plastic tray, he drank his milk and push his tray aside, laying his head on the table. His friends: Heidi, Luke, Jared, Gabe, Jill, Sarah, and Fred stared at him with concern.

    "Come on man," Gabe said, holding back a laugh at the same time. "How are you going to get through our classes asleep?" Greg smirked at the joke, but didn't raise his head from the table. He fought to keep his eyelids open, he thought of the beach and his dream, who was the girl in it? Then the horn rang, signalling lunch-time over and time for classes to begin, Greg and Heidi walked slowly to their first class, for they had it together but Greg even when looking through the scope of the sniper, couldn't stop thinking about the thing in golden armor, but one day... he would kill it, for that, he was sure.

Chapter 3

                It had only been because of Heidi that Greg had become friends with any of them. At first when Greg had come here all he had wanted to do was his duty, he didn’t want to make friends. But when Heidi had her mind set on something, it was going to happen. It wasn’t until he had been at Fort Sharius two weeks that he had found the river; it rushed by in the forest that bordered the base. Heidi found out that Greg would go there in his free time and she followed him.

            For the first few times he discovered her and walk off, not letting Heidi get close enough to talk to him, but after a month, he had been overcome with loneliness, stress, and grief. He finally let her talk to him and he found that they could talk together for hours, without getting bored. Whenever she was around all of his troubles would lift away into the sky, just like a helium-filled balloon. Greg couldn’t explain it, and probably never would be able to, but it happened.

            Once Greg had become comfortable around Heidi, she brought Jill and Gabe to the river. Greg hadn’t liked that at first, but he lived with it. And, the group grew. After a few more weeks, Heidi brought Sarah and Luke too. Greg knew her plan, but accepted them and found out they had a lot in common. And then, Fred came to the Base, he was the type of guy who could make friends in a heartbeat, and was soon accepted into the group.

            The river became their usual hangout spot. On their weekends when they would have free hours to do whatever they wanted, the river would be the first place to check for any of them. Even though Greg had developed a good friendship with each and every one of them, Heidi was still his favorite, and also the only one of them he had told about what happened to his family. She believed him fully, and wanted to help; the problem was, she didn’t know how. She knew it must be tearing him from inside that something had murdered his family and he still had no idea what it was.

            He had described that there had been five small creatures with a type of orange armor on, they were cowards at heart and they had retreated when Greg had charged. They were, according to Greg, around three and-a-half feet tall. And Greg could’ve taken them, if they had been the only ones…

            Greg had also described to other things, they stood at around eight feet if what Greg had said was true. One had been wearing a blue shade of armor, but the other one wore a shining golden armor. They had four-pronged mouths. The one in golden armor had been the one to take care of Greg’s dad, mom, and baby brother. The blue-armored one had taken care of his twin-sister when she had struggled.

            The family had been kind, and small, living in a small house by the sea. They hadn’t needed a big house, just one to fit them. They didn’t own a lot of things but they hadn’t been poor. If they had lived in the city maybe the marines would’ve come in time, but that was one thing Greg hadn’t been able to figure out. The marines had shown up, but no one had called them. It was almost as if someone had seen it and called them. Knowing fully well what was going on.

            “Listen up, marines!” Shouted General Kent in his fake voice from the front of the large room they were in. Two-hundred marines unlucky enough to be chosen for this mission stared at him in confusion. Greg and his friends were some of those unlucky marines. “The Argo, a scout ship went to investigate Harvest six months ago. After a short transmission confirming they had exited the slipstream, we lost contact. The Argo had some powerful and brilliant commanders on it, we don’t think any force of humans could have done that. You will be taken in a transport in twenty-four hours, it will take you to Reach where you will join Captain Veredi and his fleet to investigate. I don’t care what you do in the time, but don’t be late for the transport, dismissed!”

            “Yessir!” Came the soldiers replies as they left the briefing room. Greg shot a look at Heidi that had an odd light of something in it. It was anxious, sad, and nervous all at the same time, and it told Heidi two words: ‘it’s them’. It was the look of revenge.

            Later that night Greg stood over his bed in his barracks, he looked over his shoulder and at his friends, they were all packing a few sets of clothes and a couple of personal items all with sentimental values. For Greg it was his magnum, it had belonged to his father before the…incident. Greg’s mind went back to a day a long time ago.

            The sun beat down on the waves gently rolling on and off of the beach, puffy cumulus clouds lazed by overhead. Greg and his dad were walking on the beach, skipping rocks and looking at previous footprints that had been left in the tan sand. Greg saw something sticking out in the sand and ran toward it, as fast as his four-year old legs could carry him.

            “What’s this, daddy?” Greg tried brushing sand off of it, but his little arms couldn’t do it fast enough. His dad strode over and swept all of it off, there was a wooden door with a metal lock on it. Greg’s dad tried to pull it off but it wouldn’t break. That was when he pulled it out.

            “What’s that?” Greg tilted his head, he was curious about the black L-shaped thing his dad had pulled out.

            “This is called a pistol, it’s used in wars.” His dad said, he then shot the lock and opened the trap-door, revealing a large collection of sea-shells, but seeing his son’s concerned face he continued. “But you will probably never have to use one.”

            Greg’s mind came back to the present, he put the pistol in his pocket and said with a bitterness in his voice and a tear in his eye. “You also said you would never need me.” After he finished packing he went to bed early, but he didn’t sleep all night.

            Only Jared saw him, he cried all night, Greg did. Jared respected Greg’s privacy, and he knew that if Greg thought it important to tell Jared he would’ve, so obviously it wasn’t any of his business, but Jared couldn’t help but wonder: why was Greg, who seemed so strong and humorous, crying?

            The next morning, the group boarded the transport ship, Heidi and Jared looked at Greg worriedly, wondering… what would happen next.

Chapter 4

            Greg sat by Heidi and Gabe on the black leather seats in the transport. No words were spoken, Greg wondered why, but didn’t want to break the silence, to start a conversation, to forget the trouble they would be in all too soon, but…he couldn’t. It was complicated, he wanted to talk to Heidi alone, but the transport was already as crammed as it could be and privacy was the last word to come to mind.

            And then Jared, he was staring him down, like he was trying to get some secret piece of his past out of him, it was weird, and unsettling to say the least. There were things in a persons past that were hidden in the darkest parts of there heart, that should never be accessed. And here Jared was, digging into them, it almost made Greg sweat from fear of him finding out those things.

            Greg stood up, and walked over to the water station, he grabbed a cup and filled it, then downed it just as fast, he really wasn’t thirsty but it was something to do other than be stared at. He then went and sat back down, and he felt it, the heat of the gaze was back on him again. He needed something that might distract Jared’s eyes. He pulled out his magnum, and turned it in his hands. Then he unloaded and loaded the empty clip.

            But there was only so much to do with a magnum when you weren’t shooting it and eventually, not even Greg could stand the look of it, he replaced it back in his pocket. And started tapping his feet, and then he felt something, the gaze was gone. He looked to his right to see that Jared had started whispering to Jill. Then the pilot called over an intercom.

            “Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes until we touch ground.” Greg breathed a sigh of relief at the pilot’s statement. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, realizing how tired he had been from his sleepless night. When Heidi woke him up, it seemed like he had only been asleep for fifteen minutes, he had.

            The first thing Greg did when he woke up was make sure his magnum was still in his pocket. Then he stood up with the rest of his friends and shuffled off of the transport. A snobby private had directed them towards a small pavilion. While in line to get in, Greg looked around. He saw the Heracles stationed with two frigates a little ways off. He saw other ships being built and factories for weapons to be produced in.

            “Woe on the force that tries to invade here.” Whispered Gabe back to Greg, Greg nodded. This place could have fifty ships up before the invaders were even fifty kilometers from the base. Once inside the pavilion Greg was handed an I.D. card, it read:

GREG HAYMER-MARINE                   20 YEARS OLD

HERACLES-ROOM: B-57                   FORT SHARIUS

            Greg was sure this was the key-card to his room, and his way to get on the ship. He waited outside the pavilion for his friends, they were all stationed on The Heracles, except for Luke, who sullenly walked to the frigate Arabia. The group pitied him, but had to continue towards their ship. Once onboard they were ordered to a briefing room, where they saw Captain Veredi talking to the already on-board soldiers.

            “—the ship is divided into three levels, A level, B level, and C level. Those of you here that will be staying on A level is because you are commanders or have some sort of job on the bridge. A level is the top level.

            If you are staying on B level, you are the combat soldiers, you will go onto the planets surface and check things out. This way if we find hostiles, the marines will get the action. Those of you on C level are engineers to help with the ships maintenance service. We are beginning our journey in an hour so be ready. Dismissed.” Captain Veredi lead the way out of the briefing room and headed for the bridge.

            As the group headed for their rooms they discussed silently, wanting to be sure of what they had heard.

            “So, we are the ones going down on the surface and checking things out, why us? Sharius base isn’t the best combat training facility out there, and I’m sure Reach has plenty of more capable soldiers than us.” Jill lead the group, walking backwards so she could face them, while talking.

            “I’ve seen a few others I know at Sharius, they have all been assigned to either A or C levels, something isn’t right. Mistake?” Jared added to the mystery.

            “No, the man that gave me my card said ‘good luck’ to me, then I heard another guy mutter something along the lines of ‘testing out the Sharians, eh?’ to the first man.” Gabe said, Greg was beginning to make sense of it all, but he still missed a few of the pieces to this puzzle, so he kept quiet.  Gabe continued, “Why would only us get sent here for combat, none of the others in our advanced classes. What makes us special, what makes us different?”

            The ladies’ words flashed back into Greg’s mind from his dream, ‘you were different’. This was getting weird, and Greg wanted it finished, the mystery of the lady.

            “We’ll figure out when we get there.” He stated firmly, and noticed they were in front of his room, he quickly stepped in. The rest looked at each other silently, wondering all the same thing, what was wrong with Greg?

            “October Seventh, that is the date. October Seventh, Twenty-five, twenty-five. We are in the Harvest system, all marines, get to a shuttle.” Captain Veredi’s voice came over the ship’s intercom system. Greg, stopped by the armory and grabbed a Sniper Rifle, he checked the computerized scope and took it off, and strapped it onto his belt. He then grabbed an Assault Rifle, he still had his pistol in his pocket, but he wanted to keep that a secret for any attacker that thought it caught him off-guard. He strapped the sniper in his weapon sling on his back, the Weapon Sling allowed them to have two weapons, it gave them an edge. He held the Assault Rifle in his arms and walked to the shuttle bay.

            Thirty shuttles were going to take off with twenty soldiers each in them to check the planet’s capital city, once they had the mystery figured out, they would search the whole planet, but the Argo was what they wanted to investigate. And that had been on course to land in the capital city.

            When Greg walked onto a shuttle he was slightly disappointed, none of his friends were going to be riding with him, he was passenger number twenty and none of them were in sight. But after a quick examination he was even more shocked, sitting near the front of the shuttle was the lady from his dream.

Chapter 5

            The room spun around Greg, he stumbled, falling to his knee. His vision blurred, he saw blobs moving towards him. He felt himself being steadied but his vision kept itself blurred. He tried to fight it, but it wouldn’t stop. And that’s when he heard it, just as he slipped into unconsciousness.

            “Come to us, Demon!” Came a strange, scratchy sounding voice, it spoke English, but Greg could tell it wasn’t his native tongue. “Come to us, now! You may think you will kill us but we will slaughter you and your silly armies, come to us!” Greg kept his eyes closed in his mind, but shouted back.

            “You! You! Don’t worry, I’ll be there soon enough. And let’s see how tough you really are! Don’t worry!” Greg wanted to keep shouting but his voice was cut off.

            “Marine! Marine! What’s wrong with him?” Greg’s hearing and vision came back, but slowly. He saw a Captain and a few other marines crouching by him, including the lady.

            “Wait, he’s waking up.” The lady said with a soft voice, just like it had been in Greg’s dream. “Are you okay?”

            “I’ll live,” said Greg scrambling up and returning to his seat without another word. The few marines and the Captain still crouching on the ground, looked stupidly at him. Greg just shrugged and pretended he didn’t exist.

            After a few minutes they forgot about Greg, or at least, didn’t care about him. Greg just thought about the shuttle. It carried twenty soldiers, two pilots, and had another level below which contained two Warthog Recon Vehicles, and one Scorpion Tank.

            Once they were on Harvest’s surface they would man the vehicles and set-out. And that was about it.  They were about ten minutes away from contact with Harvest. Greg did a last-minute check to make sure his weapons were loaded. Captain Veredi didn’t transmit a message to them, for there was no need, they knew what they needed to do. The transport hit the ground hard. And Greg suddenly wished he had gotten to be in one of the Pelicans, but instead they had been in the old Eagles.

            “Pile out marines, unless you want to take a nap!” Shouted the Captain, who was scrambling out, being followed by others. Greg honestly would rather take a nap, but he just followed. The Warthogs and Scorpion were unloaded. Greg climbed into the passenger seat to one of the Warthogs. Three soldiers could load into a Warthog, and even when a driver was in the Scorpion, four more soldiers could jump onto the sides.

            That totaled a full eleven soldiers from each transport that would go into the capital city, and the other nine would stay to guard the transport and pilots. The lady climbed into the driver’s seat, perfect. And the Captain jumped onto the turret in back, even better.

            The lady sped into the city, Greg looked around at the wide streets and buildings, nothing looked wrong. More groups were farther in the city, checking buildings and such, but Greg didn’t feel the need for it. And that is when it happened.

            “Alert, Alert, object of unknown material is heading for us.” The message came through loud on the radio. Greg’s heart did two things at once: nearly stopped beating and beat twice as fast. A large purple hole appeared in the sky, and a huge battle cruiser came through it.

            Here was the moment of silence, the moment before everything happened the moment of Truth. Greg heard all of this over the radio.

            “This is UNSC Captain Veredi,” this message came from the Heracles. “Please identify yourself.” Silence then took over, it seemed that every one of Greg’s heartbeats was an eternity, and then finally, in the human language they replied.

            “Your destruction is the will of the Gods…and we are there instrument.” And with that, a large ray of energy was released and hit the Arabia head-on, which exploded into flames. Exactly what Greg had feared and anticipated was happening.

            A war had started.

Chapter 6

            Greg didn’t waste a second, he jumped out despite the other two’s shouts for him to stay. He ran across the street and into the empty doorway of a building. He turned his flashlight on to find scattered papers and what he had been looking for, a staircase.

            He sprinted towards it and hopped up the staircase two steps at a time. The building was massive and it still took him a matter of minutes to reach the roof. By the time he opened the hatch on the top and scrambled up he was out of breath. But he continued his mission.

            He looked through the scope of his sniper up at the battle cruiser, seeing four more had come through the purple hole. Many much, much smaller ships were coming from the cruisers. They were almost shaped like a ‘U’, and they looked like spirits soaring through the sky. Ghostly things coming to bring grim death.

            It was totally by chance Greg saw this, but he looked right to see if any more hostiles were coming, and was shocked by what he found. The entire surface of the planet besides the capital city, had been melted, as if made into glass, he had no choice, he had to report this.

            “This is Greg Haymer, reporting in. I am on the roof of a building in the city, aside from here. This planet has been—well, I’m not exactly sure. It seems…melted.” Greg talked into his radio. “Captain Veredi, please respond. Over.” Greg wasn’t sure how they hadn’t seen this on descent, maybe they had been too focused on the city. Silence took over the radio, for a moment.

            “Responding to Greg Haymer, we see what you are talking about, this is Captain Veredi. My scanning shows you are close to the position of Captain Sherwin.” So the captain did have a name. “We are not sure what kind of firepower these things have, but we will have to take it out, unless we want this battle to last five seconds. Anyone have ideas?” Greg thought for a moment and then looked at the small ships, they were getting closer.

            “This is Heidi Teggan, reporting in. Captain, may I suggest something? Didn’t the Heracles recently get a MAC cannon added? Why don’t you use it?” Greg smiled, Heidi was always the one seeing the obvious, her mind wasn’t clouded by war or limited time.

            “Excellent idea, Helena, how many shots will the battery take?” Captain Veredi’s voice came back over. Greg knew who he was addressing, The Heracles’ AI, Helena. And it wasn’t a long wait until she answered back.

            “We only have a three-round sustaining battery sir, the engineers couldn’t upgrade it before we started the trip.” The woman’s voice came over the radio. “But it’s enough to destroy that Battle Carrier.”

            “All forces in the city, fight off the ground attackers. And Greg Haymer, stay close to Captain Sherwin, he’ll need your help.” Captain Veredi said, and then ended transmission. Greg watched the first “spirit” hit the ground, latches on both sides opened up. Revealing a mixture of both of the species of things that had murdered his family. They scrambled out, Greg didn’t wait a second, he sniped one of the smaller things in the head, dropping it immediately.

            The others of the same species screamed and ran around like frightened cats, the bigger things found cover behind other buildings. Greg opened the roof hatch and jumped down, running down the stairs, which proved to be easier than climbing up. He busted out of the door, and sprinted past the other two still in the Warthog. They did the only thing they could think of, followed him.

            Greg threw a grenade which bounced off of a building and then rebounded into one of the big aliens hiding places and exploded. Greg saw the body fly and then hit the ground hard, it was dead before it realized what had happened.

            In anger the other two bigger aliens jumped out and started shooting at Greg, who rolled to the side just in time to avoid the odd blue streaks of plasma. Greg returned fire with his Assault Rifle. The bullets were deflected by a blue shield that only formed when shot at. Greg stopped firing in disbelief and started to step back. One of the aliens brought out and odd sword of some energy, it had an odd shape to it.

            Greg stumbled over a rock and fell back onto the road, completely terrified. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t react. The alien raised it’s sword, about to strike. And then it happened, two streams of Assault Rifle bullets hit the alien’s chest, or rather, the shield in front of it’s chest. And then it happened, the shield failed and the bullets hit the alien head on, it didn’t last long.

            “The shields…fail?” Greg said, still in partial shock. He grabbed Sherwin’s wrist and allowed himself to be pulled up. He walked a few steps and grabbed his dropped Assault Rifle, and then he remembered something. “Where’d the other one go?” He ran towards the maze of buildings, forgetting to thank the other two, who again…ran after him.

            Greg was running through an alley when he was ambushed and fell to the ground from the alien jumping on its back. It knocked his Assault Rifle out of his hands and Greg rolled up. Scrambling to get his Sniper out of it’s sling, after what seemed forever it came. And Greg took a random shot, it hit the elite in the head and it fell to the ground dead, the Sniper, if aimed correctly could take out the shield in just one shot.

            The other two caught up to Greg and the lady muttered. “Wow these things sure are elite…” Then Greg heard other gunfire, more spirits had landed and the battle had just begun.

Chapter 7

            “Marine Squad Alpha, hostiles are swarming eastern part of the city, coming in on your location. This is dire, get yourselves out of there! I repeat, this is Captain Sherwin reporting in, large groups of hostiles are spreading quickly from the east of the city, get any survivors you can and then get back to the transports.” The Captain spoke through his radio looking through the scope of Greg’s sniper. They were crouched at the edge of a large ravine caused by the enemies weapons that defied physics. Buildings were two feet behind them, this sheer drop was enough to make anyone queasy.

            Greg glanced back at the dark room they had just exited. He imagined hostiles creeping up on them right now, ready to feast. Greg loaded his pistol, for his Assault Rifle had been empty long before. He, unwillingly, turned back to the other side of the ravine, he couldn’t see much without a scope. He wished the Captain would give him back his sniper, but was easily outranked and couldn’t order or ask for it.

            “What the--,” the Captain started but he fumbled for his radio instead. “Marine Group Alpha, hostiles coming up on the south and southeast! Looks like you’re gonna have to fight your way out…” The Captain just looked through the scope, not doing anything. Greg couldn’t take it, he pulled his radio out of his pocket, his built-in radio in his helmet had been fried, luckily Greg’s head hadn’t.

            “Marine Group Alpha, I am Greg Haymer, I am with Captain Sherwin, we will assist you in any way possible,” Greg continued disregarding the horrible look the Captain was giving him. “Continue en route, gather any straggling marines and try to break through, we, will get a Warthog down there for assistance. Stay alive, and if that’s not possible take some of those ignorant fools with you!” This time, aside from silence, the marines responded.

            “This is Private Dustin, of Marine Group Alpha, we are facing hostiles by the dozens, we will follow orders, but would that Warthog come a little faster if I said please….” Came a gruff voice from the speaker in the radio.

            “Private Dustin, how many allies are with you?” Captain Sherwin asked hastily through the radio in his helmet.

            “Um….including me, sixteen non-wounded and seven wounded, as you can probably see, we are trapped in a building. But we’ve been able to make contact with around eleven more, they are right across from us.”

            “Copy that.” It was Greg’s turn to make the orders now. “You have help, make a dash for the other group. That Warthog will be there soon, hold on!” The private responded his agreement.

            Captain Sherwin turned to Greg, “Why did you promise them a Warthog? Ours is probably trashed and we don’t have any type of help for them, they’ll run out and be picked off!”

            “You two better get moving then.” Greg grabbed the sniper from the Captain’s hands and nodded toward the lady that had remained silent for a matter of minutes. “Now go!” Despite his higher rank, the Captain with the lady, left for the Warthog.

            Meanwhile, Greg laid on the ground pointing his sniper across the ravine. What he saw amazed him, around what must be forty hostiles surrounded two buildings, each about forty meters from each other. Occasionally, a Battle Rifle or Assault Rifle would poke out a window and take a shot, usually injuring one of the small creatures. But then it happened:

            Near the door what must be ten grenades flew through the windows causing huge scattering of hostiles. The doors then burst open and marines scattered out shooting rapidly at the recovering aliens. Then more came out, carrying the wounded. They were making a break for it. Some of the ‘elites’ as they were now being called were putting up a fight though, Greg saw three marines fall and then took a shot, killing an elite.

            With two more shots, two more elites were dead and the leaders of the group had made the dash, and were guarding the doors of the building across from them while their comrades piled into the five-story building.

            An elite with the odd sword came charging after one of the soldiers carrying the wounded. Greg took another shot and a streak of discharged air led right to the head of the alien, it dropped centimeters away from it’s what would-be victim. All of the marines were inside and the doors were bolted and locked again. Greg heard the Private’s voice over the radio again.

            “This is Private Dustin coming in, we have joined another group of marines, they were commanded to protect a lieutenant, which was killed by the Elites. And I don’t know what kind of snipers you have up there, but they must have auto-targeting guns.”

            “This is Greg Haymer,” Greg let out a laugh. “It was me covering you guys, hopefully the Warthog will be there soon, hold tight.” Greg sniped a few more Elites running towards the building. This was child’s play to him, he could’ve hit a target that was one-hundred times faster and smaller.

            “That was you?” The private was obviously very impressed. “All I can say is thank you, and that I hope that Warthog gets here soon.”

            Then a electrical whoosh sounded behind Greg, Greg turned onto his back just in-time to dodge it, one of the energy swords. An elite in red-armor pulled his sword out of the ground and turned to the right, advancing to the spot where Greg had rolled. A memory came back:

            Greg had just punched one of the little things with his eleven year-old hand. He grabbed it’s pistol and the rest of the small things fled. Then his twin-sister struggled with the blue-armored elite. And that’s when it shoved the sword up her belly.

            Greg was rocked back into the present, he saw the elite raising it’s sword for a second try at the kill. And right as it stabbed down, Greg somersaulted backwards, and landed back onto his feet from the roll. He side-stepped a lunge, and now looked at the elites back.

            He rushed and pulled out his pistol, he wrapped his arm around the elite’s shoulder and pointed the magnum at it’s head. The elite deactivated his sword and then spoke clearly in the human language:

            “You may kill me, but you will fall, you care too much.” It then dropped it’s cylinder from which the sword could spring from. Anger and emotion filled Greg, he clenched his teeth and through them muttered.

            “You think I am weak because I feel, because I care. But I am stronger because I care. It helps me remember what you’ve done. And it helps me remember the one thing that is most important to me…..my family!” With that Greg shot the magnum, for the shield had gone away when the elite had been touched by another living thing.

            And then Greg turned back to the ever important battle. 

Chapter 8

            “Will that flippin’ Warthog be here soon?” Greg heard over the radio as another blue grenade exploded on the door. Weakening it even more, soon it would break, and the marines wouldn’t be able to survive an attack from the inside. “Most all the marines and the wounded are on the top floor, there is a roof hatch. Could a Pelican come, we can’t hold ‘em!”

            “That is a negative, Private.” Greg gritted his teeth as he checked his ammo on his sniper, he only had three more shots, and it wasn’t possible to snipe with a pistol. “Pelicans are havin’ a lot of trouble with those idiotic alien fighters.” Greg looked up at one of the purple fighters, streaking through the sky. “I’m not sure where that Warthog is, just hold tight. I’m running low and having—,” Greg heard a growl behind him, he scrambled up and threw a grenade into the dark entrance. It momentarily lit the room, showing large furry creatures being blown backwards.

            “Private, incoming hostiles, you’re gonna have to hold your on for a while.” Greg readied his pistol. The building then collapsed, leaving a huge pile of rubble, Greg only saw one way to come out, and he kept his eyes on it. He realized that whatever these things were, they were smart enough to realize that their buddy hadn’t come out, Greg glanced towards the ravine, he had thrown the body over…

            And that single moment he glanced back was the moment when they charged, they charged and in they slouched form they weren’t much taller than Greg. They had brown fur and small helmets that covered half of their head. Greg stood his ground and took a shot, aiming for the head with his magnum. With the first shot the leading of the things helmet rocketed off, with another, it fell dead, these things didn’t have shields. Greg didn’t have enough time to gun the next one down, but he rolled aside from it’s charged and it leaped accidentally into the ravine.

            “Idiotic brute….” Greg said, naming it because of it’s actions. He turned to face a third, and the last one. He raised his pistol and pulled the trigger…..clik. clik. Clik. He needed to reload, and the brute was too close to sidestep or roll. Greg braced himself for death.

            The brute let one last howl before 50 Cal bullets hit it squarely in the chest, killing it almost immediately. Greg turned around at the sound of Pelican engines. He saw Gabe on the 50 Cal mounted in the back. It hovered, four feet above the ground, half over the ground, half over the ravine.

            Greg was about to jump in himself when a hand was thrust out, Greg looked up and was overjoyed to see Heidi, he took her hand, and allowed himself to be pulled into the Pelican. The pilot turned towards the other side of the ravine, another Pelican followed, they were on a rescue mission.

            Once on the other side of the ravine, the Pelican tailing them hovered low above the roof, Greg saw marines open the hatch in the roof. But then, he turned his head at the sound of Greg firing the 50 Cal again. He looked watched the Elites and their smaller troops fall.

            Once all the hostiles were down, Greg jumped out along with Heidi. The marines that had stayed on the bottom level opened the door and rushed into the Pelican, Greg and Heidi had to stay on the ground, they wouldn’t fit.

            Both Pelicans took off, leaving the two friends to fend their own. Greg loaded his pistol, wanting to conserve his sniper ammo, he strapped it on his back. There was a trail leading up a huge hill towards the direction of the transports, at least they had some way to get back if things got hairy. On the other side of the what used to be a road, a huge gate was hit…hard.

            Greg and Heidi were shook into alert mode, Heidi raised her Battle Rifle and had a grenade in her other hand, Greg tried not to think how hard the recoil would be to fire the Rifle one-handed. Instead, he cocked his pistol, and repeated Heidi’s grenade strategy. Whatever was on the other side of that door was strong, really strong.

            The door burst open, dust raised in a thick cloud, Greg saw massive silhouettes appearing from it. It was a few seconds before the cleared the dust clouds. And every second of it Greg could hear his heartbeat.

            Once they broke free of the visual cover, Greg saw them. They stood well over him and Heidi, they were covered in thick armor except for two spots. The belly, and the neck, hopefully, vitals. One arm was a huge gun, and on the other, was a massive shield. And to make things worse, there was two of them.

            “Where’s the 50 Cal when you need it?” Greg muttered as he and Heidi pulled the pins and threw their frags. The massive things lowered there shields to where the grenades had landed in the dirt. After the explosion, no harm had been done. This was going to be hard.

            Then, a horn sounded, a Warthog broke through a tiny pile of debris from what seemed another entrance right as the weapon these things had on their guns began to glow a lime green, and it kept building…at the last second Greg realized it was the lady and the Captain.

            The lady realized what was happening and leaped off the gunner seat right as the energy was released. The Warthog blew into flames and flew into the ravine, the Captain in it. The lady couldn’t move, she was enveloped in fear.

            Greg unstrapped his sniper and took a shot, hitting the thing right in the orange part in the neck, the things dramatically stumbled around and then fell…..completely dead. These things weren’t invincible after all.

            The remaining alien charged the lady, but Heidi was too quick, she unleashed a fury of rounds into the aliens exposed stomach, and it fell the same way. The group was left breathing heavily, sweat dripping down all of their faces.

            “This is Captain Veredi, all troops get to transports ASAP! I repeat, get to the transports ASAP!” Greg looked back at the winding trail up the steep hill, it would be hard, really hard, to get back alive.

            And at that moment, seven Brutes came through the same path the massive things had, and this time, they had weapons.

            “Let the race begin…” he yelled, as the three of them unleashed grenades, for Greg and Heidi, it was their last they had…through the smoke Greg saw some of Brutes had lived, and some Elite silhouettes were appearing.

            Even though he had killed the one in the red armor, he wasn’t satisfied, he felt the hatred that wouldn’t be satisfied until the one in the Golden Armor was dead, hopefully that would be soon…

Chapter 9

            "Those things are ticking me off!" Greg shouted, scrambling up from his knees, pretty sure his most recent dodge had drawn blood from his shin, two more of the rockets hit the cliff, a couple feet from the threesome's heads. "where the flip did those Launchers come from?"

            Behind him, Heidi paused and took a few shots from her Battle Rifle before returning to their desperate scramble up the trail, both shots containing three bullets each, met one of the stocky creatures in the head, bringing them down instantly. Greg looked back down the winding and climbing trail to see the brutes sent to pursue them were getting closer.

            "Come on! Get a move on!" he shouted, sniping the closest and fastest advancing Brute, bring his ammo for his Sniper to one measly bullet. Greg would've thrown a grenade to misshape the trail more and make it more difficult for his pursuers to catch up; but he had long since run out.

            The mysterious lady-whose name still lay unknown-ducked a fraction of a second before a blue grenade soared right where her head had been, she sprinted to get out of the way, making a small portion of the hike go faster, but for Greg and Heidi, they had to scramble back a safe distance and wait for what seemed forever until it exploded, then they took off after their comrade.....

            The stationary 50 cal turret sat on the edge of the hill, a hardened Corporal controlling it..with his face scrunched with sweat and stress. He heard the hum of the three Pelicans behind him; the last three ways to get off of this planet... which would leave in five minutes.

            Those were the two first things Greg saw as he climbed up and over one final ridge, he turned back and pulled Heidi up, her legs barely missing a few bursts of plasma coming from the rifles of some elites who had joined the Brute pursuers. The few last marines and ODST stood by the cliff, mostly with Battle Rifles and Snipers, were trying to make enough of a gap to between them and the hostiles to make sure the Pelicans wouldn't be gunned down.

            One of the rockets hit the ground right where a couple of marines were grouped, killing one and severely injuring the other, the lady ran and dragged the wounded marine into the middle Pelican-for it was the closest.

            Greg quickly borrowed a few rounds for his Sniper from an ODST, and took a few shots, but with every shot, a hostile was killed, Greg was quick and accurate through any weapon. An ODST was hit in the face with a plasma grenade, nothing could be done...

            "We need to ‘old ‘em off ‘til we ‘ave permission to leave!" The corporal shouted in a deep gruff voice, not relenting on the 50 Cal one bit, he was giving these aliens a taste of what fighting the UNSC would be like.

            A Warthog lay a bit away, only one marine on the turret firing down the cliff at the attackers, a plasma grenade, hit the hood of the Warthog, and the man bailed, the Warthog blew down the cliff, crushing some of the hostiles.

            Some plasma hit one of the firing marines in the shoulder, he was propped against a rock outcrop by Heidi, who then returned the edge and kept firing. The corporal firing took five long slender spikes in both soldiers as he cried out in pain.

            Greg ran over to help him right as he heard over his radio:

            "Okay, get your last passengers in and take off! Time to go!" Came Captain Veredi's voice. Greg fireman carried the Corporal while Heidi dragged the other wounded marine into the middle Pelican.

            As the three Pelicans took off, a Hunter pair emerged at the top of the cliff and shot...clipping one of the Pelican's wings, it went down as soon as it lifted off. It was a bumpy ride but the other two Pelicans made it to the Heracles and watched as right as they entered slipspace the other frigate was destroyed. They had escaped; barely...

Chapter 10

            <Begin Report: Contact Harvest>

            [Greg Haymer, Age 20] {STATUS: Marine, Healthy} [OPT (original place of training) Sharius Base]

            After our Pelican took off, we left the back door open…we didn’t have time to think to close it. Me—Greg—and two fellow female marines had our hands quite full tending to the  three wounded. Including—from his service tag—a Corporal by the name of Dustin, who had suffered long, twelve inch spikes to both shoulders, I am not sure what type of weapon caused this, but I do believe it was one of the so-named “Brutes” who fired it.

            The brutes scared me half to death, and each one almost finished the job. They were relatively easy to take down, considering none of the ones I encountered had the odd energy shields. But the way they charged was enough to paralyze one to the spot, I could barely aim my pistol from how hard my hands were shaking, and I could barely hear it charging from how hard my heart was pumping.

            Anyway, back to the escape, ours was only one of the three Pelicans that took off at the last second. The frigate, by the name of—I believe—The Arabia, which had one of my dear friends on it—had been destroyed by the hostile’s first strike. The other frigate had almost every system failing, it’s hull weak and at its shattering point, is what I saw the first time looked up from tending to the Corporal.

            I then saw two ‘Hunters’, I think they’re being called finally got up the cliff we had just barely escaped from, and they shot…the blasts barely missed our Bird now that I think about it, but instead clipped the one to the left of us. It went down, not even being able to celebrate their narrow escape.

            Then the pilot asked me the one important question, the question that saved every person on that Pelican, and—boy—was I glad I chose what I did, the question was: “Sir, where do you want us to dock?”, and of course, I chose The Heracles.

            We were let safely into the Cruiser a mere sixteen seconds before we were to shoot into slipspace with the frigate, but sixteen seconds was all it took. The hostile ships fired one last round upon us, blowing the frigate into bits and pieces—all of which are on the destroyed surface of Reach right now—and giving us one last shake, we had to transport power from the MAC to the engines to keep them running, and after what seemed years…we entered slipspace.

            I barely staggered into the bridge from the Captain’s command when something blew…I’m not sure what it was…but it sounded bad, very bad. The crew was doing all they could to keep the Heracles from blowing to bits from structure damage; so none of them could be spared…and I was the only non-crew member in the bridge, so I was picked.

            I don’t even know what had happened, but the Captain gave me a briefcase with a strap so I could carry it on my back…and boy was I glad, it was heavy, and I’m talking like, three Rocket Launchers in one hand heavy.

            He also gave me a map of where to go, he said to attach what was in the briefcase to the main power generator, three levels above ours…where of course—being the top part of the ship—had been hit again and again by enemy blast. The service elevators were down, so I had to climb.

            I took off from the bridge, dodging personnel and such, it didn’t take me long to find the elevator, even though from all the times the ship was lurching, I was glad I hadn’t eaten any breakfast or lunch. The elevator looked fine, would it hurt if the Captain was wrong? I pressed the OPEN button.

            The elevator blew! It was like someone had shot it with a Rocket, I was launched across the hall, hitting my back hard and then slumping to the ground. I then looked up, parts of the elevator—including glass—was flying right toward me.

            I couldn’t think straight, so I held up the briefcase, I remember feeling my hand sting when some glass caught where I was holding onto my only protection. And then some weight hit the suitcase—I never saw what it was. But then, it stopped, most of the junk had missed me by several meters. From then on, I decided to always trust the Captain.

            I pushed myself up—careful not to put too much pressure on my cut hand, which blood was already beginning to appear from—and walked to the edge of the shaft, searching for the service ladder, and Bingo! I saw it, a few meters to the left, I carefully shuffled towards it, mere centimeters were all that were keeping me from death.

            When my sweaty hand finally grabbed hold of the silver, cold ladder, I was relieved and discouraged at the same time, I looked up to find how long I really had to go. I started my journey, trying my best to not look down with the ship jerking so much. Sparks were flying and my hand was bleeding...all-in-all, not a fun experience. After what seemed hours, I saw light from a shaft in the wall coming up ahead, and the ladder ending.

            I thought the climb was over, and I scrambled like a monkey up the last twenty-or-so meters. And once I climbed into the shaft, and threw myself down and breathed a sigh of relief, my breath was deeper than normal. I lay there for a few moments, and then turned around and looked ahead, to my dismay I saw another ladder.

I was bashed into the wall of the long hallway as the ship lurched once more. The overhead lights flickered for a moment and then brilliantly came back to life. I looked down at my bloody hand, and groaned in exhaustion once more, it overwhelmed me. My legs seemed to scream from the agony, with every step they barely held up, and my arms seemed like they would fall off. I couldn't waste a second to think of the eccentric pain and grabbed hold of the other service ladder, looking back at the huge elevator shaft I had just climbed from, and then he looked up, knowing I was about to do it again...

I’m not sure how long it was ‘til I got to the top of the other shaft, the moment I poked my head I heard a loud grinding sound. And saw a huge machine trying to work properly, but not succeeding, I was sure this was it.

            I hopped up, and sprinted with all the strength I had left towards the machine, I opened open the briefcase to discover a large box, I searched around the machine until I saw a hole that seemed like a good match…thankfully, it was.

            The noise stopped, and the machine hummed contently. I then hurried back to the shaft, not wanting to think about the climb down….

END REPORT

<17:23, October 30>

“Man, I hate paperwork…” Greg groaned as he pulled the paper out of the printer and shut the laptop, letting Gabe get to work on his own he had to do, Greg left the room listening to his friend laugh and the sound of keys being keyed.

Greg strode from the building and went to the Main Admin Office, where this was to be turned in, he opened the glass doors with his bandaged left hand. They pushed open easily and Greg took a few steps in—seeing a large desk/counter with a receptionist behind it. He nodded to himself and stepped forward—placing his hands on the desk.

            “I have this paperwork for the Captain, where do you want it?” He asked politely, with one of his famous smiles. The receptionist looked up menacingly at Greg, wiping the smile off his face.

            “Room B45,” she said in a gruff voice. “It’s his office.” And that was that, she returned to whatever she was working on, and Greg continued down the hall, it wasn’t hard to find the room.  He knocked, and heard a strong ‘come in’, he opened the door cautiously.

            Captain Veredi sat at a desk at the other side of the room—which was dark and well furnished—the Captain stood and saluted back to Greg, then beckoned him in. “What can I do for you?”

            “I finished the paperwork you wanted from me…” Greg said easily, handing the papers to the Captain. That’s when it caught his eye, it sat on the desk, a single paper.

            SPARTAN BLANK PROGRAM: <STATUS: About to begin>

RESEARCH IS COMPLETE AND IS READY FOR THE CANDIDATES:

Then another paper with the Captain’s scrawl all over it was partially covered, but Greg saw it clearly enough. It was numbered one through twenty-five near the left side, seventeen of those spaces were filled, and in one of them, Greg clearly saw his own name...

Chapter 11

            Without thinking, Greg snatched both papers from the desk, forgetting that even touching a Captain’s personal belongings without permission was a crime. But, even after Greg held them for a few seconds, the Captain sat still in his chair, smiling, and nodding, a gesture to Greg; telling him to read it, Greg looked down at the two papers:

1.      Ethan Trevin: Exceeds in any weapon, Leadership abilities, Blank Leader

2.      Heidi Smith: Assassinations of any kind; Blank Assassin

3.      Jill Griffin: Pilot, Blank Pilot

4.      Jared Hale: Surveillance Expert, Blank Surveillant

5.      Gabe Riftman: Heavy Repeater guns, (?) Pelican Gunner

6.      Greg Haymer, Sniper, Blank Sniper/Assassin

7.      Luke Nerfton: Explosives Expert  (Deceased) Tanner Cruden, Demolitions Expert (Excludes Rockets)

8.      Mike Hiemmel: Close Range Combat, Blank Assassin or Guard/Enforcer

Greg stopped reading…he had had enough. Disregarding what the Captain would do; he crumpled the paper in his hand and threw it at the wall, but was not satisfied as the small clump bouncing silently of the wall and onto the floor.

“What is this!” he exclaimed, waving around the paper containing the Blank information wildly in his hand. “And what the heck do I have to do with it!” The Captain just sat still in his chair, a smug smile on his face. This made Greg even angrier, but despite himself, he forced his body to calm down. After a few moments of silence, the Captain spoke.

      “That’s better.” The Captain said softly. “Now, let me continue. As you have seen, this is the Spartan Blank Program, you have surely read that.” Even with Greg’s million questions, he remained silent. “The Orion Project was considered a failure…but these new Spartans; these Spartan II’s have proved to be much better. But the UNSC has made one vital flaw: advertised them. Spartan Group Omega was actually on the surface of Reach while you were, you see. Now, Rebels, even knowing the tactics and weapons and strategies of the Spartans that have been foolishly advertised to give ‘hope’, still are no match for a squad of Spartans.

      “But these new hostiles….they are proving to be much more…um….would you say, adaptable. Omega was getting less efficient as more time dragged on. And Omega actually had more than wounded, some were killed! Killed! The soldiers we pictured invincible, k illed!” The Captain paused for a moment, and then went on.

      “As you can see, we need more soldiers…that—in the public’s view--don’t exist, these are the Spartan Blank’s.”

      “Yeah, but what does that have to do with me…I mean, I’m a decent sniper bu—,” Greg began but was cut off.

      “You’re more than that by what I hear, and you—as well as many others—are perfect for this program. The Spartan Blanks will have stealth missions, like assassinations, infiltrations, spying, even hit-and-runs…you will be even more elite than the Spartan II’s. There will be twenty-five of you…perfect for a large or small scale mission…but you just wait, in about a week this will all be explained…”

Chapter 12

      “You are here because you are elite.” Captain Veredi half-shouted, half-stated as he paced in front of the twenty-five “lucky” men and women. Greg had been standing there for the last hour, and it had been two weeks since he had had his little chat with the captain.

      All twenty-five candidates had been chosen and all twenty-five had accepted, knowing their duty. Today was the day of their first mission, they were on Reach still, and Greg was—surprisingly—a little homesick for Sharius Base. After all, he had been there since he was twelve years old…

      The sand sifted under Greg’s toes, his small house was in sight. He ran the rest of the way and ran into the house, the door was open. But that wasn’t strange, on warm summer days like these, it always was.

      Greg stopped a few steps into the house, he looked down the hall into the kitchen/dining room. There were signs of struggle and the table was overturned. He heard voices from the family room and assumed his family was playing a joke on him for his twelfth birthday.

      Greg let out a silent chuckle to himself as he decided to prank the pranksters. This decision probably saved his life from ending right there. Greg crept behind the table, silent as a mouse. Now, he could hear the voices clearly, but they weren’t speaking his language, nor, any language on earth for the matter.

      “You have been briefed, you have been trained, and you have been trusted. You all know that somehow, these—from what we take from our prisoner—Covenant, have found Reach and set up a stealth base pretty far from here. But we have found it, and you guys are going to take it down, and bring some files back home.” Captain Veredi continued.

      He peered over the table, and there they were, the miserable soon-to-be murderers of Greg’s family. Something wasn’t right, they were hurting his family. Greg counted seven of the small “grunts” and two “elites”. After one of the grunts punched his mother, he flew into full rage.

      “You have only been given a week, but it seems you have bonded with each other strongly, and hopefully, your missions will improve by that—,” Captain Veredi’s voice kept drifting away, clouded by memories.

      He yelled loudly as he jumped over the table and sent his foot into the mother-attacking  grunt’s face. It fell to the ground, obviously unconscious. Greg picked up an odd curved object it had dropped, it looked dangerous.

      He pressed a button and a burst of plasma shot into one of the other grunts. He killed it with a couple more shots. He was able to kill another two by the time the grunts started to flee. That was when his twin sister—in an attempt to help—struggled, and the elite shoved his sword into her stomach, killing her instantly.

      “You are ready and I am proud of the Blank program--,” the voice floated away once more.

      Then, the other elite, the one in gold armor threw the rest of Greg’s family down and fired a round of plasma into all of them, his dad, his mom, and his baby-brother. Greg—tears streaming down his face—now had two of the plasma pistols, one in each hand. He launched a volley of plasma into the elite with blue armor, no shield was present, and it was killed.

      And that was the first elite Greg ever killed.

      “Now get in the Pelican’s and make me proud.” The Captain finished, and Greg hurriedly put on his helmet to hide the tear streaming down his face.

Chapter 13

      The Spartan Blank armor was much different from Spartan II Armor. It wasn’t fully shut off from air. For it had three main parts: first, the helmet, which was black with a different colored visor covering the face; showing what job they had, for example, Greg’s was a dark shade of blue to show he was an assassin.

      Secondly, was the torso part, which slid over the head. It covered the back and chest, and had small pauldrons on the shoulders. But it didn’t have long sleeves, the wearer had to wear a shirt under. And lastly, the leg/thigh part, it covered the “upper part”, right below the waist. But the wearer still had to wear pants, the armor was all black.

“Time for you guys to do what you do best.” Came the pilot’s voice, who was one of the Spartan Blanks. It took three pelicans to transport the Blank’s, the eight that had piled in on the one Greg was in scrambled out into the dark night, rain fell immediately on Greg’s helmet.

      “Alright Blank’s, let’s move, you all know your codenames, you all know your jobs. Once your all done with them, I’m calling for EVA.” Called Ethan Trevin, the Blank Leader in front of the group of eight. The other groups were dropped off separately, at places where it would be more convenient for their jobs.

      Ten minutes later; Greg peered over the ledge at the three elites, clicking key on their “computers”. Static occurred over his radio and he felt like swearing at it, but decided against because it might give him away, finally the signal got in on the piece of crap.

      “This is top-dog coming in,” Top-dog was Ethan’s codename. “Let’s show these covies who owns this planet. “All snipes out there, have some fun. But One-shot?” Greg sent in an affirmative, knowing his codename perfectly well. “Take out those elites and then help Mike cover Jill. She’ll need it to hack that idiotic computer with all those flippin’ codes!”

      “With pleasure,” Greg smiled, and aimed, he didn’t even look through the scope. He pulled the trigger with his black glove and an elite fell instantly. The other two rushed to the body and then pulled out plasma rifles and looked up, Greg ducked his head a fraction of a second before he was spotted.

      After three seconds he peeked over again, he was about to take another shot when a knife flew into one of the elites necks, for some reason, the shield wasn’t present. Then Greg sniped the third, not a warning bell had sounded yet.

      He hopped down to a lower ledge, and then his feet firmly touched the ground of the base. Mike sprinted out from behind a corner, Jill following closely behind.

      Jill ran up to the console, quickly typed in a few keys. An alarm rang out, making Greg cover his ears. Jill pounded the keyboard.

      “I’m a flippin’ idiot,” she announced. “I should’ve known, they would use tech-alpha-teran coding.” She began typing furiously on the screen.

      “Something in our language would be nice.” Greg called sprinting a few steps and then slammed his back against the wall. The console/computer system was in a dip in the hall, which was elevated, if you were knocked off the side you would be a pancake for the covies’ breakfast the next morning.

      Greg looked out into the hallway, a computer console blocking view from him one way, the wall the other. Already two elites were sprinting down the hall.

      “Let them get close,” came a voice in Greg’s ear, he turned to find that Mike had was directly behind him, Greg nodded silently and crouched, knowing that these elites should stick themselves with their plasma grenades right then; it would be less painful.

      Greg saw the elites only a fraction of a second before Mike had jumped over his and fallen onto the one closest to the far edge, but the elite stood no chance, for Mike had stabbed it’s neck on impact, and it’s body now lay lifeless while Mike shoved the knife into the others.

      Mike quickly pushed the bodies of the side, the alarms still rang like crazy. And all-of-a-sudden, plasma erupted around Mike, who luckily, rolled off to the side, behind the dip like Greg. Jill turned for a brief second, then went back to work, Greg could swear she was typing so hard the panels might break.

      But he had little time to think of that, he wheeled the corner and let off two shots, both immediately killing the elites of about a group of twenty. He wheeled back as plasma whizzed by his head, Mike rolled out, now wielding his assault rifle, which he had a deadly knack for.

      By the time he was back in cover, there were only twelve elites left. Greg threw two grenades around the corner, blowing the first three elites off the edge, and sending smoke up in front of the group—just the kind of cover Mike needed.

      Mike sprinted around the corner—he threw two knifes and drew two mores—running fully into the veil of smoke. Greg turned and saw an elite silhouetted, and shot it, it fell immediately.

      Once the smoke lifted, every single elite was dead, and Mike stood alone—amongst the dead bodies. Greg shook his head, “show off!” he called out. Mike just shrugged.

      “Can ya blame a guy?” he laughed, when all of a sudden an explosion went off from the other side of the base…something had gone horribly wrong…