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Halo:Armageddon by Chris L
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Chapter One of Halo:Armageddon
Date: 14 February 2004, 3:32 AM
2301 hours, February 12th, 3001(Military Calander)/ UNSC battle cruiser Demonseed/en route to "Basis", the moon of Threshold.
Captain James Newtonn stood in front of the Demonseed's controls. The many men and woman around him were shuffling about, each afraid of what may lie on Threshold's dark side.
The long, gray cruiser sped toward Threshold at flank speed.
"Major Tauros," said Newtonn, not a trace of emotion in his gruff voice. "Glad to have you aboard!" he boomed, making several people jump. "Thank you sir!" replied Major Tauros
softly. "Now, back to buisness." barked Newtonn at the people around him. They began scrambling to their posts, occasionally running into one another. "Sir!" yelled a woman's voice from behind Newtonn. "I'm picking up a large patrol of Covenant cruisers!" she said. "Lets find em' and blow em' to pieces!" yelled Newtonn over the shouts and cries of frightened marines and workers. "Lets give those
bugs a night to remember." whispered James to himself.
The Elite named Xula 'joromee sat behind the controls of his Seraph fighter. He gripped the blue joystick and looked around at the hologram of the space around him. That was how most Covenant ships functioned anyhow. Each ship would display a hologram of the surroundings. It was much easier than a breakable windshield that those humans favored. Xula put the tear-drop shaped fighter into a tight roll to the right. The six fighters behind him followed suit. The purple fighters rounded Threshold and came to the dark side. Xula glanced around. His ship(named: "False life")
was a commander's ship. It had all the latest technology.
The scanners suddenly went crazy and a Longsword fighter appeared less then fifty yards in front of the Seraphs. "Open fire!" growled Xula into the built in com-stat. Blue-white flames erupted on the underside of each fighter. Xula pulled the small trigger on the joystick and launched a focused plasma torpedo at the human fighter. The other Seraphs did the same, and the Longsword erupted into a small sun. When Xula's vision cleared, he felt all four of his mouthpieces drop. The UNSC battle cruiser floated not far away. Xula tried to pull back, but he wasn't quick enough. The missles turned the other Seraphs into molten slag. Xula felt his own fighter shake, and prepared for the worst.
2337 hours,February 12th,(Military Calander)
Covenant battle station Xionoros V
Coraz lumbered through the shiny, chrome streets.
She was a Hunter. She was at least sixteen feet high.
She didn't feel safe without her armor. She had orange skin flecked with black. Her pale blue eyes peered around at passing Covenant. Her large, two-toed feet make cracks in the chrome streets. She snarled loudly at a passing Grunt.
The Grunt flipped head-over-heels and landed with a soft,"Thud!" on the side of the street, clearly swept over by the strenghth of Coraz's snarl. She felt no sympathy. As she walked toward the Valorian style cruiser floating at least four-hundred feet off the ground, a long energy lift
extended down and touched the ground about a mile from Coraz's current position. She stopped, seeing a massive army of Elites marching toward the cruiser. Coraz spotted her bond-brother named Velctrisc. He had pure white skin.
He was clearly albino. Coraz lumbered over to him. He greeted her with a loud roar and slammed his fists into the ground, causing the chrome to split and crumble into pieces. Coraz set her hands on the ground and began bounding at the gravity lift like a gorilla. Soon, she heard Vel behind her. They reached the lift and looked up.
It extended straight into the middle of the cruiser. Elites were floating upwards, as were Jackals, Grunts, and Coraz was stunned to see, a Prophet, guarded by seven massive Brutes. Their red eyes stared dangerously at Coraz. She coward back, a look of fear in her eyes.Those exact same Brutes had killed her mother, father, blood brother, and her former bond sister. They tightened their grip on their bladed plasma weopons and floated up to the Valorian cruiser named: "Malevolent Spear" Coraz entered the lift and began floating upward. She was much slower than other aliens, but a lot stronger. All exept for the Brutes, which were easily the strongest. Coraz entered the massive hanger and felt her jaw drop.
Xula's Seraph fighter gave an almighty lurch, and the ship split open. Xula fell toward Threshold at immense speed, feeling heat press against his shield system.
He screamed in agony as his shields failed and flames erupted on his blue-green skin. His jaws clattered for fresh air. His skin blackened and he went unconcious, falling into the belly of a gas giant...
Chapter Two of Halo:Armageddon
Date: 15 February 2004, 5:08 AM
0034 Hours, February 12th,(Military Calander),
UNSC battle cruiser, Demonseed.
Newtonn stared at the Demonseed's controls. The men and
women that were around him had almost all left. He lit his
pipe and let out a whoosh of fragrant smoke. "Captain, enemy Seraphs on approach!" yelled a woman that was still
in the command center. "Fry em'" barked Newtonn. "Um, sir...
we can't exactly do that!" she replied. "Why not?" asked Newtonn, a look of pure concern on his shaved face. "Well, it's kinda' hard to explain sir, you see, but-"Just spit it out!" yelled Newtonn. "Those idiots are surrounding us as we speak sir!" she said. "So, just shoot em' and jump into
slipspace!" he suggested. "Our slipspace generators will not start!" she cried. "Dang-it!" "Those greasy,slime-covered scum-sucking bugs!" screamed Newtonn. "Sorry sir!"
yelled the female Corperal. "As you were!" snapped Newtonn.
He paced back and forth. "Okay, we could send out the
Longswords to clean them up!" said Newtonn, but when he looked up, the room was empty.
Unknown Time, February 12th,(Military Calander)
Xula awoke with a start and looked around. He was in some-sort of tent. His armor was gone, as were his weapons. He always got nervous without those two things. He looked at his skin. It was charred black. Dried blood was crusted all over. "Are you okay?" asked a soft voice that made Xula jump. He looked up and saw a short, hunched figure. It was odd looking. It was shaped similarly to a Grunt. Exept it had Blackish fur. Its face was wrinkled and scarred. "Did you here me?!" snapped the voice. "Yeah, I'm not deaf!" shouted Xula. The creature looked supprised. Xula lay back down. The creature walked out of the tent, muttering under its breath. Xula looked around for his armor, but could not seem to find it. He soon decided to leave the tent, and walked out. He was momentarily blinded by bright sunlight.
Then he felt his jaws drop a second time. All around him were these little creatures. He looked around at them all,
and stepped forward. He seemed to be on some kind of wooden structure, like a barge or something. It floated above the
gases on Threshold. Then he remembered, he had crash landed on Threshold. He must have landed on this barge. He thanked the gods for his amazing luck. The same creature he had seen earlier came waddling up to him. "Sir, are you okay?"
it said. "Yes, I am fine." replied Xula.
So, what exactly are you little creatures?" he asked the
little thing. "We, in your terms are called Caretakers."
"We are related distantly to your Grunts." the thing said.
Now, you must go." the thing said. Suddenly, the Caretakers
began pushing Xula toward the side of the barge. They squeaked and babbled in their own language. "Wait, no!"
shouted Xula, as he was pushed into the boiling gases of Threshold. His already burned and damaged skin dissolved, and his strong skeleton shattered into trillions of tiny shards...
Unknown time, Unknown date,on Covenant cruiser, "Malevolent Spear"
Coraz quickly ducked as a plasma bolt singed through the air. She looked up and saw a group of Brutes. A strangeled
choke rang out beside her and she saw a Brute strangeling
her bond brother. "You fools do not have permission to be on this ship!" growled the Brute, as it squeezed tighter on
Vel's neck. Veins bulged from Coraz's bond-brother's neck
as he lost all of his air. He went limp, and the Brute let
go. Coraz roared in fury that nothing could withstand. She
leaped up, knocked the Brute off of his feet and stomped on his head. She bounded at the pack of the aliens and hit two with such a force that they caromed off of the walls.
The last Brute, clearly the leader, grabbed Coraz and began
smashing her head into the steel floor. Black stars erupted
in her vision and she blacked out...
0116 hours, February 12th,(Military Calander)
UNSC Longsword fighter, 034.
The pilot named Turk Frayberg put his bird into a
dazzling dive until he could see a Seraph. He waited for the tell-tall "Ding!" that told him he had locked onto a target. He pulled the trigger and unleashed a wave of missles at the covenant flier. It blew up, and Turk pulled back on the joystick. The other fighters around him were
also engaging covenant forces. The covenant cruisers had formed a ring around them, and the Demonseed was floating ever so slowely upward, toward Basis. Turk focused on another ship, and turned it into a million, shiny shards that floated in the empty space.
Turk saw the Demonseed unleash torrents of lead at a
covenant cruiser. The missles glanced harmlessly off of the
ships sheilds. Turk knew that the captain had made a fatal
mistake. He slowed to an almost complete stop as the covenant cruisers' plasma turrets glowed orange...
Chapter Three of Halo:Armageddon
Date: 18 February 2004, 2:05 AM
Turk stared in awe at the number of glowing plasma
turrets surrounding them. The Demonseed made a complete turn
so that it was facing a covenant ship that was about to release more Seraphs. Turk bit his lip. The other plasma turrets suddenly glowed bright cobalt. Just as a section of
shields dissapeared to let out the Seraphs, Newtonn unleashed hell. He sent waves of "Fury" class air-to-air
missles into the open hatch on the covenant cruiser. Turk
whooped loudly as explosions rippled along the length of the cruiser. The other cruisers opened fire. Blue flames erupted on every side of Turk's Longsword. He jammed the
black joystick forward and hit the throttle pedal as hard as possible with his green army boot. The fighter went into a long dive through the swirling plasma. The Longswords heat sensors went crazy and the audible alarms sounded.
"I know, I know!" Turk whispered to the fighter as the plasma flames struck the super-alloy that the Longsword
was made with. The plasma subbsided and Turk slowed down.
When he looked up, he saw only 4 surviving ships. All were
covenant. He tried desperatly to spot the Demonseed, but couldn't see it anywhere. He flew up again and still couldn't see it. "He must have gone into slipspace," Turk
tried to assure himself. "No, wait, the Demonseed's generator needed charging." he remembered, slamming his fist on the bulk-head. "Dang it!" he shouted, firing a barrage of missles at clear space to try and release his
rage. No such luck. He flew as fast as the fighter would allow. Still no luck. He was still raged. "Never weep over
a fallen hero." He repeated the battle psalm over and over
until he was sort of calm. He thought of what to do. There
was no cruiser to go back to. He couldn't take over an
entire covenant ship by himself either. If he didn't
think of something soon, those bugs would be back with reinforcements to sort out the mess. His Longsword floated
in lazy circles as Turk tried to think. There wasn't any
organized UNSC base on Threshold's moon: Basis. "That's it!"
Turk shouted aloud. "No ORGANIZED base!" "Just a few reseasrch colonies!" he yelled, grinning. Every research colony had a transport. The plan seemed perfect in his mind.
So he mashed down the throttle pedal and flew off toward
Basis...
The Brute named Jallor stood over the prison cells.
There were two Hunters inside a cell. One (the male)
was near death. The female was not even close. She had
regained conciousness at least an hour ago. She was snarling
and roaring. Every now and then she would try and slam her
way out of the energy wall that served in-place of stupid
steel bars that the primitive "Humans" liked so much.
"They don't even deserve a name." thought Jallor. The female
was asleep at the moment. That was the way Jallor liked
Hunters the most. Aside from dead, of course.
He glanced down at the inferiors. "Idiots." mumbled Jallor
under his breath. He was about to go on a spec. Op.
mission when these great slugs showed up. Now Jallor was
stuck with prison duty. Along with that over-hyped up
Elite named Freena 'Gruschomee. She was a twit. All she
did, all day long was blab on about pointless crap.
"Oh, you're here Jallor?" asked Freena happily. "No, you're
just staring at a solid hologram of me." grunted Jallor
sarcasticly. "Really?!" asked Freena, full of interest.
"No, you twittering toothpick on fat legs, dressed in that
stupid, light-blue armor!" roared Jallor. "Wow, I didn't
know you felt that way about me Jallor!" screeched Freena
in her high voice. "My god." hissed Jallor, mentally beating
the snot out of Freena. "Oh, you think i'm a god?!" squealed Freena in delight. "Oh, yeah, you're the god of
get-the-crap-away-from-me-or-i'll-blow-you-to-pieces!!"
Yelled Jallor, pulling out his bladed plasma rifle. "Oh
Jallor, you're such a dear!" said Freena. "You're about to
give me your prized weopon?!" she shreiked, starting at
Jallor. He squeezed the trigger and shot Freena in the shoulder. She yelled loudly at first, then, she turned around. Her eyes were full of malice and hate. "Why you!"
She growled. She leaped into the air and landed on Jallor.
She took out, primed and dropped a plasma grenade on top
of Jallor's head."No!!" yelled Jallor, as he was consumed
in a wall of blue flame. "Finally." said Freena. She turned
back around and opened the cell doors. "Those Brutes are
gonna have a fun night." whispered Freena, as four Hunters walked out, along with a hand-full of marines, and to top
it all off, the last Spartan ever to live. Spartan 117-
John...
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