A Spartan's Valiancy
Posted By: Arbiter<swiftstick31@yahoo.com>
Date: 21 October 2005, 2:54 pm
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-This is my first human perspective story so don't be too harsh on my first try, thanks for your guidance and thanks for helping me, everybody. And I am trying to avoid using the "Hours in the Military Calendar" but I want to make it professional, so if this time below is wrong also please tell me-
A Spartan's Valiancy
I
SkyL
Section 1 Watchman 1610 hours, December 15, 2551 (Military Calendar) /Astral System Sicily Station, Medical Wing B-89, planet Troy_________________________________________
Orientation
The sapphire like plates of the MLONIR armor clicked and scoured at Glenn's torso. The Spartan gritted his teeth as the medical officer removed his air scrubbers from his helmet and smoothed them with a brushing whisk.
Glenn took a second to marvel at his armor, so elegant but rough and intricate at the same time. It was difficult to believe that this cuirass derived from the pious dolts they were fighting now.
The MLONIR armor was just a design of what the Spartans truly were. They were observant, tactical, and determined, as they were brutal and swift. Glenn 63 as his ranking officers referred to him as, thought of himself as gifted.
He was unique as his designer; Doctor Catherine Halsey alluded him as. Since the training on Reach Glenn was more than what the Spartans were. He was beyond observant he was anxious, he was more than tactical he was resourceful and he excelled determined he was driven…
The Spartan was a leader, not just any leader. He did not precede Spartans into battle like his other comrades did but he guided ODST's into battle. Glenn portrayed a certain boldness that the Helljumper's lacked.
Which was why he was a leader, he was the soldier that ran into combat no matter what the odds. This was the embroidery of Doctor Halsey's creation one he would burden forever…or until death would take him.
"Turn, please" The officer said as he flourished a small rod that had foam bubbling from the tip as he gave a pallid smirk.
Glenn turned and felt the biofoam droop into his plates and into his layers of shielding. He tasted the brass like sip and gave a foul cough as the foam continued into his body. The froth tucked and molded into his structure while he moved his arms side to side. He felt the raw plasma scores wash into his skin like lathered soap and he nodded the officer in thanks.
"My job, Watchman. You took quite a beating from the Covenant, eh?" He said setting the aided dressings on a sterilized table.
"My job, too"
Glenn laughed silently to himself under his visor he was still getting used to that name…Watchman.
The Helljumper's truly did have a sense of humor and a sense of pride. Early in his training, Glenn was removed from Reach and taken to civilian-based systems to protect and serve. He was given the diverse azure armor, marked V for the armor, and was thrust into battle.
They named him, Watchman for his sentry like qualities and inherent defending instincts. The name stuck and the designation was somewhat like a rank. Glenn held the name with discernment and self-respect as he traveled.
Watchman stood and casually stretched, adjusting his arms into the bulk of the forearmor. He glanced into the abode of space through the window; the stars flickered and gave a misty turbulence over a planet.
Troy gleamed silver and green emitting a alluring aspect. The stripped oceans from terraforming were gaunt in places and he admired the single city for the deficiency of tenancy to the sea.
Arditol City sparkled with fashionable shine, the construction was the crux of the world. Glenn's home was on Earth, in America. He was only 6 when he was taken to Reach and he was introduced to Petty Officer Chief Mendez and his comrades in the future.
SPARTAN 63 the designation he was granted was debasing as he remembered it. Being directed everywhere and ordered everywhere being called that, he was confused and distraught that he would never see his family again…
But he had a family, all the Spartans. They would help each other, they would fight alongside another, and they would die together. And now he was removed from his family and placed into this fleet.
Glenn shrugged the adversity away and he stepped into an elevator. The Spartan pushed the button on the console, his fingers were unnaturally large but he managed to activate the transit.
Glenn looked outside the window and into space. He stopped gazing and saw his reflection in the black void. The Spartan was chiseled with a muscular build and his dexterous body was admiring. Watchman had azure colored armor, which gripped his body like a glove. He was at least 7 feet tall, but his athletic build conferred a completion that he could not contend with.
Watchman grabbed his helmet and tugged, watching the steam hiss from the air scrubbers. His long hair was matted with beads of sweat and his face was handsome and pale from the obscurity of sunlight.
He tucked his helmet by his belt plate and watched the green lights on the console ping to a halt. The doors opened and there was a corridor of energetic workers. Carrying suitcases with patches of lasers running down the cases.
The Spartan bustled into a open bay, and saw a cryopod right to the inhibitors. He stepped inside the pod and nodded to the officers on the platform near the ceiling.
"You tired, Watchman?" The officer replied adjusting the pins on the console for the pod.
Watchman laid on the bedstead, he placed his helmet on his head and the tubes and plates clicked into his cheeks. He gathered his bearings and he wore a wearied look under his visor.
"You know how it is, you try to save the world and you get a little exhausted" The Spartan muttered in a gruff voice just as he slipped into a very uncomfortable drowse.
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