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Mystery of the Unknown SPARTAN by Infection Form 143
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Mystery of the Forgotten Spartan
Date: 16 December 2006, 4:12 am
The world was calm, a sort of "calm before the storm" type of feeling.
what? thought second lieutenant Daniel Tomahawk. Where am I? His vision was blurred and incoherent. He struggled to concentrate on the Medical Ward. He heard voices, strange, fuzzy voices.
"How much longer before he's out?" Said a low, growling voice.
"Well, the anesthetic will take a while to fade off," said a higher, more energetic voice. "Damn, what hit him again?"
"I don't know," said the low voice again. "Some sort of Covene--"
His vision began to focus in as a man in a white coat hunched over him.
"I think he's recovering." Said the Doctor. "The anesthetic has gone by fairly quick."
"Good," said the low voice. Daniel turned his head to see a large man in a metallic green suit. He had a label on his arm, which read 117. He looked up at the man's face.
It was strange to see the face of a Spartan. Usually, they kept their masks locked on tight. The face was stiff and emotionless. He had brunette hair, and a nose that appeared to be a perfectly triangular shape. He had a scar on his left cheek, and a bruise on his forehead.
"Good to see you moving," said the Spartan. "Thought the SPARTANs lost one of their finest."
At this time, Daniel wished he could do more than just lay on the examination table. The doctor took a needle from a drawer, and filled it with some strange green material.
"Now," said the doctor. "This will sting, for just a moment."
As soon as the needle pierced his skin, Daniel was in a frenzy of uncontrollable pain. His vision blacked out, and he heard the sound of a prolonged beep.
***
The dropship hovered quickly over the barren wasteland that is modern-day Albatross.
Once a great, bustling megalopolis, now a desolate lifeless valley of grays and oranges. The occasional city would pass below the hold, some type of life still populating the ruin. There were many craters and boulders scattered and tattered miscellaneously across the land, and each of them bellowing with smoke.
"Alright." Said Tomahawk. "Our new assignment is to scout what's left of the capitol settlement of albatross for any leftover military technology."
"Sir," asked a young SPARTAN. "Why do we need to be the clean-up crew on this one? We should be on the front line, smashin' up those Covvies! SPARTANs were meant to protect the human race by kickin' ass!"
"Not so fast, Bluthe." Said Tomahawk. "It has also been mentioned by countless personnel that a rouge has made an encampment in the area."
"Finally, some action!"
"Quiet!" Screamed Tomahawk, who was now irritated to the bone. "Now," he said. "We'll need to split into three teams. Rico, Farley, you two are gamma team. Milton, Brando, you two are Beta team. Lee, you're with me. I'll need your sharpshooting expertise for cover."
The soldier nodded in return as th dropship shuttered to a stop.
"It's quiet out out there," said the pilot. "Friggin' creepy. Take care out there."
The team stepped into the seemingly endless junk pile that used to be the Universal capitol. The team did one last diagnostics test, and moved out.
There were distant echoes of chatter among the rusted metal and charred ruins. Lee and Tomahawk passed through what appeared to be an old highway intersection. There were old shops lining the streets, and many of them were full of rubble and random scraps. Some were still charred from battles and emergencies.
This planet was an atmosphere of pain and suffering. It's air held the stench of depression, and it's soil was thick with misery.
"Any ghost that still looms here..." murmured Lee, "God be with them."
Suddenly, there was a loud noise, and several scraps fell from a pile. Tomahawk lifted his gun, and aimed steadily at the rubble.
Another sound. Then another, and another. Suddenly, and great amount of the rubble fell, and crashed into the ground by Tomahawk's feet. An oddly shaped figure.
It was a black mound of mucusey puss. It was a thick, slimy liquid that burned the ground it was set upon.
"Don't move." Said a voice. Tomahawk looked around to ind the source of the voice, and was soon rewarded.
There, atop of the mound, was a great shadow. A form the likes of which Tomahawk had never seen. Not a Covenant, not a Flood Form. An unknown caller of the dark.
Mysteries of the Unknown SPARTAN; pt. ][ ][
Date: 25 December 2006, 6:09 am
The menacing shadow loomed atop the rubble and trash. There were obvious signs of MJOLNIR VII armor among his clothing, and he held as a weapon a makeshift sword of some kind.
He had modified the helmet, removing the night vision, and them their own solitary goggles. He had long greasy black hair, which matted to his scalp, and curled along the edges. He had completely removed his chest plate, leaving only the undershield as protection against the environment.
"You know," said the man. "It's a bad idea to be outdoors at this hour." He moved down the pile of rubble, and stepped into view of Tomahawk's flashlight.
"Is that so?" asked Tomahawk. "Why is that?"
"This planet's natives aren't exactly friendly."
Just then, a loud howl was heard from the distant West. Tomahawk looked at his threat indicator. There was a large ring of red dots surrounded the area.
"I've been listening to your radio chatter since your ship entered the atmosphere." Said the Rogue SPARTAN III. "You'd better broadcast to all your troops to find cover."
"Why?"
"A little storm." Said the Rogue. "The night is setting in, and pretty soon a solar flare is going to cause an Atmospheric Differential Climate Effect."
Soon enough, the sun set behind the main planet, high above the atmosphere. There was a large flash, and then darkness.
"Everyone get indoors now!" Tomahawk screamed into his Comm.
A stuttering response came from each member of his squad as a loud crack was heard.
"Get into the shop now!" Screamed the Rogue. Him, Lee, and Tomahawk leaped into a busted old shop, whose roof had apparently caved in.
Suddenly, there was a flash of blinding light, and a large atmospheric missile ricocheted off the sun. The large blue beam crashed like a ring through the other planets in the system, and as soon as the beam collided with the atmosphere, the gravity forcefully lifted, and crashed down viciously. Tomahawk screamed as his body hit the ground, and was forced onto it.
"God DAMMIT!" Lee shrieked in pain. "It's crushing me!"
The gravity slowly set itself back to normal, and the three men raised t5o their feet. Like clockwork, Tomahawk and the Rouge pointed their guns at each other.
"What the Hell are you people doing here?" The Rouge asked tensely.
"Reconnaissance mission." Said Lee softly. "We were sent here to clean up the area for excavation, and gather military Intel from any functioning data outlets."
"Well you just stepped head first into a living, breathing Hell hole."
"What do you mean?" Asked Tomahawk.
The Rouge lowered his makeshift sword, and looked out the window of the building as another howl was heard.
"They're moving in." Said the Rouge. "We have about two minutes to get out of the plaza."
"Why do we want to get out of the plaza?"
"Move now, ask questions later."
Tomahawk vengefully agreed, and moved silently through the damp alleyways. Long pipes stretched from the ground to the very top of the buildings, where they emptied into basins. There were crows hovering ominously over the basins, watching the trio as they crept silently through the shadows.
Tomahawk stepped into a puddle of some sort of rank, mulch liquid. He cursed under his breath, and continued to creep slowly out of the plaza. Suddenly, Tomahawk's comm. unit buzzed in.
"Sir, it's Farley." Came a low buzzing voice. "We've encountered something. I've searched the local database, and there's no record of it. It isn't any type of Flood Form the UNSC has ever encountered before."
Tomahawk was ready to respond when the Rouge silenced him. He peered around the corner, and searched the scene.
"You two stay here and cover me." He pointed to Lee and said. "You good with that rifle?" Lee nodded. "I'm going to search up ahead. You climb up that fire escape and run point."
Lee nodded and climbed up a fire escape with his rifle. The Rouge pointed to Tomahawk. "You tell your pals to run. They may be SPARTANs, but they aren't trained for this."
"Sir, do you copy?"
"Copy," said Tomahawk. "Farley, take the rest of the squad, and got back to the Pelican as fast as you can. Tell the pilot to circle the city, until I give you rendezvous coordinates."
"Roger that—Wait. Oh shit! RICO! GET DOWN!"
"Farley? FARLEY!"
The message ended in static.
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