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Chapter 1: Reporting to Earth
Posted By: TheGladiator<spartan034@hotmail.com>
Date: 8 May 2003, 2:06 AM
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Chapter 1: Reporting to Earth
"What if we miss?"
"I won't."
With that, Spartan-117 pulled the lever opening the hangar bay doors over his dying planet. Earth.
"You better hold on tight, pal," came the quiet voice in his head. The room was sucked clear of all oxygen and loose items by the vacuum. John, the last of his kind, turned and flipped out of the UNSC ship to free-fall onto earth.
John's parachute opened like an owl spreading its wings silently in the night. Explosions lit the sky like runway lights as John glided in among the jungle foliage. Nearing the jungle floor, John bent his knees slightly, hit the ground, and rolled to absorb the impact. As soon as he double-checked his vitals, he froze. The motion tracker built in to his helmet's HUD was blank. This time though, that didn't seem to bode well for the Spartan. A momentary respite from the explosions gave John the chance to listen for any signs of Covenant troops. None.
Suddenly, the motion tracker burst into color as shadows leaped out from behind the giant trees.
"Stay right the fuck where you are!" came the voice from one of the figures, "Adrian, search 'im!"
"Sir!" a young-looking man sprinted forward to the sound of a few extra bolts racking. Adrian reached John, who had crouched entirely still for the duration. At this moment, John moved. He leaped towards the advancing Marine in a crouch, knocked his MA5B assault rifle up and out, slipped behind the young man, and put him in a headlock, all before anyone could even realize that things were not going to plan. About a second and a half after the headlock, the Marines opened fire. Rounds pinged off the back of John's armor. Only the Marines behind John were firing, and the shots soon faded until the last Marine ceased firing as they realized the futility of the gesture.
"Wait a sec," exclaimed one of the Marines, pointing at John, "isn't that one of the—"
"—Quiet! Identify yourself soldier!" shouted the Marine's superior.
"Master Chief Petty Officer SPARTAN-117, reporting to Earth," came the quiet reply from John.
"Hmm, seems we've had a bit of luck," remarked the Marine, a staff sergeant by the looks of it, "sorry 'bout all the excitement, sir, but you'd better follow me."
John released the silent Marine from his chokehold. The Private First Class stumbled for a second, massaging his throat. He glanced warily at John and joined his squad mates as they melted into the jungle. The Spartan paused for a second, noting that Cortana had been silent through the entire experience. He then un-slung his battle rifle and followed the Marines.
After about an hour of traveling at a quick pace, the group of human soldiers began to pick up signals on the portable motion trackers they carried. However, none tensed, for this was the area of their outpost. Noises echoed off the huge trees, engines rumbling, boots thumping, voices carrying in the wind.
John had traveled near the Staff Sergeant for most of the trip, receiving updates about the current situation in the area and on Earth. Most was not good; the Covenant were faring well even in the hostile environment. There were a few large outposts scattered across the U.S. and Europe, but most of the other five continents only had small camps of humans such as the one these Marines belonged to.
As the group entered the clearing, the group split up, with most of the enlisted men heading off to pre-fab barracks. A Pelican drop ship roared overhead and several Marines riding the new ATVs zipped in front of them. Staff Sergeant Cleveland, as he was known, led John and PFC Adrian Tore to the smallest tent, near the center of the clearing. Several Warthog jeeps sat parked nearby, along with manned LAAG turrets scattered around the area. A tired looking man jogged briskly towards them from the tent.
"Cleveland?" a nod from the SSgt. satisfied him, "Good, follow me please."
The three of them followed the man after he glanced peculiarly at John. Upon entering the tent, John noticed several things. First, it was not as busy as a command tent usually was. Second, The four men within seemed worn and withered. But upon seeing the menacing Spartan in full armor, they seemed to gain strength.
"Ah, a Spartan soldier," said the oldest man of the group, "a lucky find on a simple patrol, eh?"
"Sir, Staff Sergeant Cleveland, Private First Class Tore, and Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan 117," announced the commander's aide who had led them in, "Colonel Arca."
"Cleveland, Tore, good to see you again. Master Chief, a pleasure I'm sure. The Spartan presence has been sorely missed in this war, ever since Reach. It's good to see at least one of you before my time is done. Perhaps it is too much to hope...."
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