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The Spartans Five by Gold Elite
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The Spartans Five-Prologue
Date: 20 July 2004, 3:56 AM
1200 Hours, March 2, 2553 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Titan, over planet Palson, near the ship's mess hall
"This is the captain speaking, all personnel, evacuate, on the double. Carry what equipment you can. Gary out."
Eric firmly planted his back against the titanium support column. He took a quick peek around the corner, and then he set his back back against the column. From the glance, he spotted two Elites, two Jackals, and some Grunts, the number of them unclear.
Eric inhaled a deep breath. His assault rifle's safety was off, the ammo counter read full, he had ten clips stored, and four fragmentation grenades.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. He jumped and turned around the corner. He opened fire on the Grunts first, which he now saw there were five. Every Grunt is a potential Elite, he thought cautiously.
He killed two of them before the rookie Elites returned fire. The plasma shots splashed against his shields. He kept firing, killing off the rest of the Grunts, before his shield's alarm rang on. He tossed a grenade in between the two Jackals before moving back behind cover.
While his shields recharged, he listened to the Elites talk to what was gibberish to him. "Manuh eht llik!" and "Ti od uoy, on!"
When his shield were back to full, he jumped around the corner for a second go. He threw a grenade into the middle of the Elites. The one on his left jumped out of the way while the one on his right stood and screamed. The grenade was enough to kill the rookie's shields, but not kill the rookie itself. Eric emptied his clip on the covenant fool.
The other Elite was standing in awe of what it thought was skill. To Eric, it was luck. The Elite was too dumbfounded to notice Eric was making a dash at him.
The Elite snapped out of it just as Eric stopped in front of him. The rookie raised its arm to strike Eric. So predictable.
Eric then did something he did quite often, it being one of his favorite techniques. He smashed his rifle into the Elites stomach to weaken its shields. He strafed to the thing's right side, firing as he went, as the Elite brought down its plasma rifle with tremendous force.
The rookie's shields gave in, and Eric smashed his rifle into the Elite's face. It fell slightly sideways, but it quickly regained balance. That was all the time Eric needed to get into position behind the Elite. Before another action could be taken, the Elite fell under the assault rifle's final hit to the back of the neck.
The alien hit the deck face first. "Need some more ammo, biatch?!" He gave the Elite the rest of his clip, and then he reloaded.
1202 Hours, March 2, 2553 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Titan, over planet Palson, near ship's lifeboats One-Five
Sergeant Aaron Batter, needler in hand, dashed ahead of Chris. He shielded Chris from the seven Grunt's plasma fire.
First Lieutenant Chris Wallace needed to be protected because he carried an unconscious Warrant Officer, which, without MJOLNIR armor on, was highly vulnerable to plasma. Chris saw that lifeboats one and two were already launched, so he leaped inside lifeboat three. A pilot was already at the controls and ready for take off.
Aaron walked in. "Let's go," the Sarge ordered the pilot, Chief Warrant Officer Cody Laslo.
"With all do respect, shouldn't we wait for more, sir?"
Aaron looked both ways out the door. The hall to the bridge was swarming with Grunts and Elites. The mess hall's all clear, though. No, wait, who's that?
Eric ran as fast as his weak legs could take him. Some of the lifeboats were already launched, but number three was still docked.
A veteran Elite pointed him out, and Eric was immediately shot at by needles and plasma. He literally dived into the lifeboat.
"Okay," the Sarge said. "Get us the hell outta here!"
Chris had already strapped himself and the Warrant Officer down in place. Aaron helped Eric up off the floor. "Thanks," he said politely.
The two sat down in seats by each other. The doors closed as they buckled themselves up. Three veterans and a commander ran in front of the closed door, and then shrank into the distance as the boat launched away.
1150 Hours, March 2, 2553 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Titan, over planet Palson, in Cryo Station Two
Jackals shot two of the three marines down, while the third marine hid behind the two cryo tubes in the middle. His assault rifle had six shots in it, and he had no extra ammo or side arm. Well, I'm screwed.
One of the Jackals fired its plasma pistol seven times, followed by seven screams. Something was wrong, though. The screams came from the Jackals.
The marine poked to see what happened. Standing there, in front of him, was an honest to god Spartan. Corporal Michael Cohen, to be precise. "I don't know about you, sir," the marine said, helping himself to his feet. "But I sure am ready to leave."
"That's just to bad, isn't it," Michael stated with an invisible smile. "We've got work to do."
1159 Hours, March 2, 2553 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Titan, over planet Palson, outside the ship's armory
Corporal Matt Wazrfais stuck his last five bullets into his shotgun. This sucks. Matt thought.
Around the corner was almost a whole squad of Elites and Grunts, plus two Hunters. The doors to the armory had been destroyed and knocked down, preventing access to it. In other words, Matt was pinned.
An explosion from around the corner shook the floor under Matt. He took a glance at what happened. The Hunter's smoking carcass, along with ten of the twenty Elites and Grunts, lay along the floor, some in pieces.
The remaining Grunts and rookie Elite looked around for the cause of their fellow scum bucket's deaths. A rocket screamed from down the hall according to the Corporal's position. That killed off the Elite and five Grunts.
"Now's my chance," Matt whispered.
He double-timed over to the Grunts. When they were in firing range, he sent the bastards to hell. "Made me waste four of my bullets, too." He kicked the closest Grunt, using as much power as he could.
Corporal Cohen ran up from the direction the rockets had come from with a marine following him like a dog.
"Michael! What's up?" The two Corporals gave friendly high fives.
"Saving your sorry ass from death, that's what."
"This is the captain speaking, all personnel, evacuate, on the double. Carry what equipment you can. Gary out."
Though the marine was happy, Matt and Michael sighed with disappointment. "Looks like it's time to go," Michael complained with a sad look.
Author note-I hope this is better than the other series I tried to start. It has the same characters, though with different personallities.
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