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    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Manny
    Manny
    Freelancer Operative


    Posts : 1365
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    Location : The Great White North (Canada)

    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC Empty A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Post  Manny February 1st 2013, 6:04 pm

    Link to OOC (Out Of Character) thread. Important info related the story is there!

    "Good evening, Spartan-324" a feminine robotic British voice said. The Spartan said nothing.

    "Welcome to the simulation room, hopefully it serves your needs"

    "Planetary intel" Manuel said, ignoring the A.I.'s cordial greetings.

    "Of course"

    A spherical map appeared of the planet and Manuel noted that it had some interesting land masses. There were two main continents, connected by three massive land bridges. One where the imaginary equatorial line would be, and two others closer to the poles, which were also connected to the land bridges.

    "Highlight key features" the Spartan ordered.

    "As you wish" The A.I showed him where mountains were, volcanoes, deserts, and large groups of trees.

    "That it?" The Spartans asked.

    "All I am authorized to tell you Spartan"

    "It's a sim..."

    "We're sending you in with basic intel. Being a dynamic simulation, almost anything is possible. We're testing your ability to adapt to changing situations" the A.I. replied.

    "Hey, do you have a name? It'd be easier to ask you things" Manuel said.

    "My given name is Odessa, but humans have taken to calling me 'O'" O replied.

    "Seem easy enough. Alright, so what are we doing first?"

    "First we are starting the simulation. I will be your guide throughout the remainder of the simulation." O replied as Manuel stepped into the room. Before Manuel could even prepare himself the world around him changed. He found an ocean behind him, and trees in front of him. It seemed to be a tropical area of sorts, but he could clearly see in the distance mountains off the sides.

    "Alright O, what's the situation?" Manuel asked.

    "The planet is presently occupied by two warring factions. The Covenant Remnants, and our old friends the Insurrection. The rebels have put up a surprisingly good fight against the Storm on this planet, their guerrilla tactics being something the Covenant was never designed to deal with" O replied.

    "Why are the Innies here? Why haven't the Storm just glassed them, besides it's the fact it's a sim?" Manuel asked.

    "There is something of worth here Spartan. This may be a simulation, but this has been planned out to be as life like as possible. There ARE reasons for why things occur as they do. The Innies, in this case, have attempted to colonize their own planet, the Storm are in search of something here." O sounded a bit annoyed, which surprised the Spartan. He wasn't aware dumb A.I. could produce tones in their voices.

    "Alright, so what is my objective...and where am I?"

    "You are on the Western continent, at the equatorial line." a holographic map appeared on Manuel's TACPAD, a small black star indicating his position" the A.I. finished speaking.

    "Objective O, objective" Manuel said.

    "You are to either establish a base or take one over from either warring faction. Do be warned, they are patrolling the planet, trying to establish more bases"

    "And what is the advantage of taking one?" Manuel asked. Establishing one would simply be easier he thought.

    "The 'storm' faction has secured the land bridges at either end, and the Insurrection has secured the poles. Both have more bases dispersed throughout the planet. That would leave the UNSC with a less than ideal location for a base"

    "I see, so basically what you're telling me is the UNSC is being picky?"

    "In a sense"

    "O, how are we going to take a base without an army?"

    "You're a Spartan. Figure it out" O replied.

    "Whatever" Manuel said as he began to patrol the surrounding area, trying to see if it was suitable for a base.


    Last edited by Manny on February 25th 2013, 9:49 pm; edited 1 time in total
    Bad John
    Bad John
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    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC Empty Re: A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Post  Bad John February 1st 2013, 6:32 pm

    "Hm." Nine grinned, reading the combat roster for the new War Simulation. Only one name was currently listed on the board.

    "Manny, huh?" Spartan II. One of, if not THE, top combat agent in the Legion, next to War. "Can't let the Legion show me up."

    Nine, inside the sim, slowly watched the landscape loaded.

    "Welcome to the simulation room, hopefully it serves your needs."

    The feminine voice didn't startle Nine, but he was curious. "Hm. I recognize your voice. Are you the A.I. O?"

    "Yes. Would you like me to brief you on the current combat excerci-"

    "Noooooope. Just point me in the direction of the first enemy encampment. Mark anything that requires offensive action on my HUD, and keep quiet until something comes up."

    "I apologize if I came off as overbearing." O replied, a bit trepid.

    "Don't sweat it. I just don't like instructions."

    "You should be aware, that Insurrectionist Forces are also present on the planet."

    "...Planet?"

    Nine felt the terrain load, and crouched into a ready position, touching his fingertips to the ground, his left knee guard touching the dirt, and his right leg coiled and ready to spring into action.

    No gunfire. He was largely on his own. He stood at the tip of a cliff, looking down at a small Covenant encampment, vehicles moving slowly from point to point, patrolling.

    "Boarder patrol? They're fighting for a foothold on this planet, alright." Nine checked his inventory. SMG, Magnum, Rail Gun, and a fair amount of ammunition to start with.

    "Good luck, Agent Nine."

    Nine smiled, his visor glinting in the mid-day sun. "Freelancers BUILD luck."


    Last edited by Bad John on February 2nd 2013, 5:51 pm; edited 1 time in total
    Manny
    Manny
    Freelancer Operative


    Posts : 1365
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Age : 29
    Location : The Great White North (Canada)

    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC Empty Re: A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Post  Manny February 2nd 2013, 2:43 am

    Manuel walked through the tropical trees, looking around for anything. His black armour helped him blend in, since the canopy of the trees provided a good amount of shade.

    There were bugs all around, but nothing "alien". They were about the size of bugs from Earth, unlike those found on other planets. Other than that, the forest of tropical trees was eerily quiet. Manuel came to a tiny cliff within the rainforest and spotted an Insurrectionist camp. While not a fully constructed fire base, it had the potienital to be if they called in enough troops and cleared the area. Manuel figured they would launch an attack on the Storm base by the land bridge, or push up to northern pole, linking their bases along the western continent.

    Manuel activated his active camo as he pulled out his magnum and screwed a silenced on it. He didn't need his rifle for this. One shot to the head would do, and most of these soldiers were lazing about, no doubt resting while a patrol checked the perimeter.

    "Ally joined" O said out of nowhere, ruining Manuel's element of surprise.

    "Did you hear that?" A soldier said, getting out of his chair and grabbing a rifle. Manuel backed away into the undergrowth, deactivating his active camo. He blended in among the darkness.

    A few of the other soldiers grabbed their helmets and formed miniature patrols to secure the immediate area.

    "Next time O, asses the situation before speaking..." Manuel growled softly, fairly annoyed with the A.I. There was a reason he did stealth alone.

    "Of course Spartan" the A.I. sounded a little dejected, but Manuel didn't care really. O could think for...herself. Manuel was never sure about calling A.Is "its" or "theys".

    Manuel stayed in the undergrowth until he heard the mini patrols leave. Slipping out again he crawled the edge of the cliff, looking down below once again. There only two rebels left, and despite his desires Manuel had to do it quickly and quietly. He pulled out his magnum, firing one bullet clean through the back of one's head. The other rebel turned around, only to recieve a bullet through his forehead.

    The Spartan rose up, and erased the outline of his armour in the dirt. He climbed down the tiny cliff and walked backwards towards the bodies. He didn't want his footprints revealing anything, at least not now. He inspected their weapons, which to his surprise had been upgraded from the last time he saw rebels.

    They were now using MA5Ds, the same assualt rifles used during the Great War. Although they were outdated now, they were much better than what they had been using previous to the Great War. Manuel pocketed some of the ammo, his rifle still accepting of those rounds. Speaking of which, he'd probably have to upgrade it as well. Make a newer hybrid from newer guns, but that thought could wait until later.

    Manuel threw the corpses into the undergrowth near the camp and continued on. Walking sideways, he began to follow one of the two patrols. Being a Spartan, he walked faster than they did and soon caught up. He activated his active camo and pulled out a small baton. He walked around the rebels and pressed a button on the side of the baton. It was his energy trident, the newer weapon of his arsenal. As the rebels walked by, he sliced a tree trunk, causing the tree to fall onto all three rebels.

    Manuel hopped onto the tree trunk and reached over to pocket some more ammo. He'd probably need it later. Suddenly he heard voices, which he assumed belonged to the other patrol. The noise from the tree must of called them over. Manuel froze, still crouched on the fallen tree.

    Three rebels approached, looking at the scene.

    "Unlucky bastards" one of the said, inspecting the corpses.

    "Was it really bad luck?" Another said, inspecting the tree trunk... Where Manuel had cut it.

    "Now, I'm no botanist but I'd say this tree was cut down..." He said. The first rebel walked over to take a look at the cut as well. The third rebel didn't move... He just squinted right at Manuel.

    On his HUD, Manuel could see that his active camo would need to recharge soon. He had to act now.

    "Hey guys... Does the air look weird to you above this trunk?" The third rebel asked. It was the last thing he ever said.

    "What the fuck?" They asked simultaneously, before a black armoured giant appeared before them. They opened fire, only to find their bullets being abosbed by shielding.

    "Holy Sh-" one attempted to say before Manuel picked him up by the throat and snapped it. The final rebel dropped his weapon in fear and trembled in fear. Manuel grinned, he liked this part... The part where the real fighting stopped. When his enemies became victims.

    Manuel grabbed the corpse's head by the face and smashed the other rebel's face in with it before slicing the man's intestines out with his trident. However he had to cut his enjoyment short and decapited the man afterwards. The Spartan dropped the corpse he held and put away his weapons, walking away without hiding the evidence. The Insurrectionist would know the UNSC had arrived... Or maybe not. A group of scavenging animals began to feast upon the remains, greedily stuffing their mouths with human flesh. They appeared to be carnivorous apes of some sort, but he didn't really care.

    The Spartan walked along and eventually found some more footprints. They were multiples pairs, about ten, suggesting that this was the regular patrol. The Spartan looked up to see where they were heading, and saw an opening in the trees. From there, he saw a cliff, and a waypoint appeared on his HUD. It was marked "ally".

    "So O, whoose my ally?" Manuel asked.

    "Freelancer Agent Nine" O replied.

    "Huh"

    "Does that bother you Spartan?" O asked.

    "I'll have to restrain myself... Somewhat" Manuel replied.

    "Your methods of warfare are intelligent at first, and then become fairly... Unorthodox" O said, offering her input on what she'd observed.

    "Yeah well, a lot of things in the Legion are unorthodox. Whatever gets the job done works for me" Manuel retorted.

    "Sorry"

    "Don't apologize. If there's one thing I find extremely annoying, it's over apologetic people. You don't like how I fight, I do. Let's agree to disagree."

    "As you wish" O conceded.

    "Alright, so let's go see John" Manuel said, following the footsteps of the Insurrection patrol.
    Bad John
    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative


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    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC Empty Re: A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Post  Bad John February 2nd 2013, 4:25 pm

    "Are you sure the direct approach is...wise?"

    Nine slowly slid down the hill. He had no true form of camouflage, save for his expedited movements, and the somewhat natural color of his armor. Thankfully, the grunts nearby had their chins buried in their stout chests.

    "There's nothing objectively wise about attacking a Covie encampment alone in the first place. But, I'm trained well enough to do unwise shit, O."

    Nine came to a stop on a launching platform, still acting with as much stealth as possible.

    He saw his target. A grounded Lich, which was being stocked for takeoff.

    "Manny is handling the Insurrectionists, right?"

    "Yes." O responded after a short pause. She was likely communicating with both the Freelancer and the Legionnaire simultaneously.

    AI's ability to multitask made Nine both unsettled and jealous.

    "Well, with him keeping them busy, I'm going to do what I can to subvert the Covenant's campaign against the Insurrectionists." Nine smiled. "We'll be weakening the enemy on both ends."

    "That...is surprisingly intelligent, given the history of your military engagements."

    "...The hell is that supposed to mean?"

    Before Nine could get an answer, he heard an energy sword activate.

    "Rahoom ZA. Human hajjum. Wort ZOLL!!!"

    An elite, clad in impressive armor, pointed one clawed finger at Nine, and the entire camp feasted their eyes on the Spartan.

    Grunts screamed, some drawing their weapons.

    "...Well, stealth sucks anyway." Nine turned, and drew his magnum, the situation already thoroughly assessed. He knew his best chance to get to cover, and took it.

    Squeezing the trigger on his black magnum, he put two rounds into a plasma battery nearby the elite. The blast threw the tall alien down, and outright killed two grunts near it. Nine sprinted away as the enemy lost track of him.

    He moved behind an ammo box, and popped off two more rounds, putting clean holes in the heads of two more grunts. The workforce here was entirely outclassed, their training with plasma pistols and needlers doing them no good.

    But Nine knew damn well the Elite General's order wasn't to kill. It was to stall.

    "I care not if the LOT of you end up lodged on the end of the Demon's PIKE! Buy me the time that our pilot needs to get the Lich off the ground!!!" The elite's dialogue was sloppily translated by Nine's suit. It was all he needed.

    He turned and fired his SMG into a jackal's chest, sprinting towards the launch pad. The elite had already leaped into the side of the ship. Nine saw the tip of its blade turn the corner.

    "GREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAH"

    A grunt charged towards Nine in an impressive show of courage. It held two plasma grenades in hand.

    "Shit!" Nine aimed his magnum, but the grunt detonated the grenades.

    The blast sent Nine straight backwards, slamming into the side of a parked ghost. He was on his hands and knees, groaning in pain.

    He looked up lifting himself to his feet. The Lich was already twenty feet in the air.

    He was too late.

    "DAMMIT." Nine beat his fist against the ground, then stood, his magnum in hand. "I've gotta catch that thing before it gets to the Insurrectionists. If I let the Covies and the Insurrectionists engage on this front, it'll make them that much more alert. Things'll be tougher on ME and Manny."

    Nine looked around for some advantage.

    A Banshee.

    "...Agent Nine, are you capable of piloting that construct?"

    "Yeah, probably."

    "...Your answer leaves a margin of error."

    "It's better than a flat out 'no.'"

    Moving carefully to avoid the fire of stragglers, Nine vaulted into the banshee, the wings folding backwards and the canopy closing to lock him in. He could hear plasma-fire peppering the sides, but the banshee held.

    In seconds, he was up and away.
    Shad0wChas3r
    Shad0wChas3r
    Database Director


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    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC Empty Re: A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Post  Shad0wChas3r February 3rd 2013, 1:59 pm

    "Bailey's really out-done herself this time." Blaine whistled to himself, looking at the simulation's name board. Currently, two names were listed on in; Manuel and John.

    Cracking his knuckles, Blaine stepped onto the circle on the floor, as a grid of energy scanned his being. Remaining as still as possible, Blaine found himself on a beach. Looking around, confused, a holographic image of the planet appeared before him.

    "Welcome to the simulation, Admiral 115." An AI said in his helmet. "My name is Odessa. I will serve as your main source of intel during this dynamic simulation. You may refer to me as 'O', as the other operatives have grown accustomed."

    "Thank you Odessa, but I prefer to keep names strictly as they are. What can you tell me about this place?"

    "There is very little I can tell you, Admiral. There are two warring factions on this planet. The Insurrection currently holds the North and South poles of the globe, while the Covenant 'Storm' faction has taken the major land masses and land bridges." Odessa replied.

    "Sounds problematic. Where am I in regards to the enemy?"

    "You are currently located on the continent referred to as Herch, the immediate area is flooded by Covenant convoys. A Covenant base is located two kilometers due north of your current position, advise you take over the base."

    "Thank you Odessa. I will need arms and a strategy. That will be all for now."

    "If you require arms or ammunition, it is advised that you scavenge. The first two operatives were lucky to receive their armaments when they originally entered."

    "Where are they located?" Blaine asked.

    "Verify question." Odessa replied, monotone.

    "Specify the location of operatives John and Manuel." Blaine replied.

    "Unsure. Agent Nine is currently in flight, attempting to hi-jack a Storm Lich. Legionaire Manuel is either attempting to locate Agent Nine, or infiltrate an Insurrectionist base."

    "Thank you. That will be all." Blaine replied, trudging his way up the sandy beach.

    "If you require anything, Admiral, please do not hesitate to ask. It could mean life or death."

    Blaine nodded, scaling the hill before him. The lush jungle ahead of him was a good place to get the drop on some Storm units, and take their weapons. Working his way into the Jungle, Blaine was careful not to make much sound.

    After a few minutes of walking, Blaine finally caught sight of an Elite Minor ahead, along with a patrol of three Grunts and a Jackal. Blaine crept forward, as the Minor kicked the Grunt in the behind, landing just a few feet from Blaine's foot.

    Picking itself off of the ground, the Grunt stared, frightened by the Spartan. Screeching out, the Minor and his squad turned to fire, as Blaine lifted the Grunt beneath him. Blocking some of the plasma with his new meat puppet, Blaine hid behind a tree, as a carbine round shattered the trunk beneath his rib cage, the shrapnel and the bullet itself glancing off of his shield. Commandeering the fallen Grunt's plasma pistol, Blaine fired as he walked closer to the squad.

    The green bolts of his pistol smeared across the faces of the Grunts and the Jackal. Blaine watched as one of his overcharged bolts melted a Grunt's mask to it's mouth, the thing literally suffocating from the molten metal that formed to it's mouth. The Jackal was thrown off of it's feet, landing on it's back, half of it's face melted off the bone.

    The Elite stood his ground, his Storm Rifle overheating in his hand. Shaking due to his negligence, the beast shook it's hand, the weapon slightly agitating it's hand. Sucker punching the Elite in the mandibles, Blaine swept it's leg out from under it, using his right foot to kick it, the force snapped it's neck.

    Picking up it's Storm Rifle, Blaine attached the pistol to his hip, continuing through the woods, the sound of Storm vehicles not to far off.
    Bad John
    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative


    Posts : 1225
    Join date : 2013-01-17
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    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC Empty Re: A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Post  Bad John February 3rd 2013, 5:46 pm

    Nine's banshee had seen better days.

    Flames sputtered from the sides, the canopy was covered in burns and scrapes, but the delicate wings and stabilizers were still intact as he continued his mad pursuit.

    The Lich was totally aware of his presence, and his intent. Plasma-fire, globs of concussive ammunition, fuel rods, and beams of Hunter's assault cannons streamed past Nine from above, below, and both sides. He worked the controls with powerful precision, the banshee swooping, gliding, rising, and falling in an erratic pattern that terrified those who watched the Banshee's pursuit.

    He flew like a demon.

    Surely if he caught up, he would FIGHT like a demon.

    Nine's tongue slid across his lips. Sweat poured down his face as his eyes twitched this way and that, absorbing every bit of visceral, screaming information he could. This task, flying an alien vehicle that he had no experience with, took all the focus he had.

    The banshee dipped low, then rose above the Lich, which was steadily climbing. An assault cannon from the Lich itself spewed forth, and struck the wing of the little ship.

    The Storm soldiers rejoiced, as the banshee went down quickly.

    Nine felt his head spin. His visuals were a blur of every strange, vibrant color that the front of the banshee gazed upon. He was in a total tailspin.

    Nine scratched open the banshee desperately, and kicked off and away from the ship. He was dizzy, plummeting end over end.

    He saw the Lich, and rolled over in midair, slowing his fall by spreading his arms and legs.

    "...Gotta do this RIGHT."

    Nine folded his limbs in and plummeted like a bullet, his knife squeezed in his right hand.

    "C'mon, John, you can do this. Do it RIGHT..."

    Nine's shoulder slammed against the Lich. He slid down the side of the smooth colossus, as he raised his knife.

    "NYAH!" In a wild swing that stung his arm, he slammed his knife into the side of the Lich, hanging on as tightly as he could. The blade bore his weight, as it cut through the Lich's thick hide.

    Nine pulled himself up, and ripped out his knife. He slammed both hands into the sides of the cut his knife had made. His fingers warped and grew the incision, until soon, he was ripping away at metal, tossing discarded shreds and chunks.

    It only took five minutes to make a hole big enough to climb into the exposed vent. The Banshee had served its purpose.

    Nine smiled. "I'm in like Flynn."

    There was no answer. O was either busy, or didn't know how to respond to the statement.
    Manny
    Manny
    Freelancer Operative


    Posts : 1365
    Join date : 2013-01-17
    Age : 29
    Location : The Great White North (Canada)

    A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC Empty Re: A Strange Planet: Arrival of the UNSC

    Post  Manny February 17th 2013, 11:46 am

    Manuel followed the trail of the Innies, until he heard shouts of concern and orders being yelled. Manuel looked out from behind the tree he was hiding to see Storm forces engaging the Rebels, and to his surprise, the rebels were holding out well.

    The Storm however didn't seem to be out in full force. They had high ranking Elites in their midst but no vehicles. He did notice a few grunts with fuel rod cannons though, so he made sure to take note.

    Manuel looked around and figured his best chance would be to stick to the trees. To his left was a wide open plain and zooming in, he could see sand, lots of it. A desert was in the distance.

    The sounds of fuel rod cannons going off brought Manuel back to the situation at hand. The rebels had set up shop behind a series of boulders, protecting them from the plasma streaming out of the Storm's weapons.

    However he noticed that the plasma fire was going both ways. In particular green plasma fire. The Innies were charging up the plasma pistols and firing at the Elites, depleting their shields instantly. As soon as that happened the Innies with ballistic weaponry concentrated their fire on the Elites, killing them.

    "Clever bastards" thought Manuel. It did concern him however as the same tactic could be applied to Spartans. Manuel pulled out his silenced MA5C-BR55 and decided to take some pot shots at both side.

    Setting it to single shot fire, Manuel took aim and shot a Grunt in the head. Sure enough, no one noticed the Grunt die by his hand. They all thought it was simply a result of the cross fire. Aiming once again, Manuel shot another Grunt, this one with a fuel rod cannon. After the second Grunt, Manuel saw he had a problem.

    He couldn't open fire on the Rebels and not alert both parties. They would notice a Rebel had been hit by a bullet, something the Storm didn't have. It would give him away, so Manuel was stuck supporting the Innies, and when the Storm patrol was dead he'd take out the rebels.

    However, things were about the be a lot harder. In the sky Manuel could see a Lich in the distance coming towards the skirmish. The Storm had called in for reinforcements, but for what reason Manuel wasn't sure.

    The Storm wouldn't bother with a petty border fight, unless there was something of value nearby. He began to scan the distant surrounding area with his 500x magnification view. There, in the desert, was a base. It was human in design and since the only humans on this planet, until now, were Innies then the base must have been one of theirs.

    That's what the Storm wanted, to eliminate the Innie base. It made sense that they would bring in reinforcements for that. There was one little detail hat confused Manuel though... his ally waypoint was on the Lich.
    Bad John
    Bad John
    Freelancer Operative


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    Post  Bad John February 17th 2013, 2:11 pm

    Nine moved around the corner of the Lich's long, flat galley, and pulled the trigger on his magnum. The shot took a jackal in the throat.

    His mission now was simple. Clear out the Lich, and take it for himself. The detail of learning to fly the colossus, or determine where it was going, would have to wait. Now, he was in a Covenant box, fighting for his life.

    A jackal cut him off, aiming its plasma pistol. Nine stopped, and leaned to the side, avoiding a burst of plasma shots. He returned fire, but the jackal's shield reflected his bullets. He could feel the air of one of his own murder attempts bouncing back towards him.

    Nine moved behind cover and drew his rail-gun. He disliked two handed weapons, but it would have to do.

    He rounded the corner, priming his shot. His feet planted, the treads of his boots holding faithfully to the slippery floor.

    His hands went hot. A Sangheili's energy sword swung down on the Spartan's carbine. Nine instinctively dropped the weapon.

    The Elite General stared him in the face. All other opponents backed down, as the General engaged.

    I'm alive.

    Simulation or not, this was all real to Nine. The smell of the alien's breath. The swing of his sword. Every shift of the beast's muscles.

    It was an experienced swordsman, but Nine used that to his advantage. He was well versed in Sangheili sword kata. Rip'a had been kind enough to teach him well.

    He shifted his weight, avoiding each fast, hard slash. He shot out his arm, blocking the elite's elbow and opening him up for a strike.

    Nine swung his fist. His knuckles bit into the elite's side. He swung again, his left hand taking its toll of the elite's unguarded jaw.

    Nine seized the elite's sword arm and bent it backwards, sweeping the creature's mighty legs.

    Nine stomped down, and fired his magnum into his opponent's face.

    Another lethal execution. Another enemy overpowered.

    Nine turned his gun towards the others, and emptied his clip. They were drastically unprepared for his attack. Soon, jackal and grunts littered the ground.

    Nine holstered his magnum, and began jogging to the control room.

    The pilot stood, an elite ranger. It turned its plasma rifle towards Nine who ducked behind a console, the plasma bullets sparking against the wall and Nine's cover.

    The Freelancer moved left as fast as he could. He felt a plasma bullet chew into his arm, but his shield ate most of the damage.

    Nine leaped onto the pilot. His fist came down on its helmet, shattering the visor. He dug his hands into its throat, squeezing as hard as he could. He felt bone pop under his grip.

    Soon, the elite lay dead. Nine stood, and addressed his current problem.

    He'd hijacked a vehicle he didn't have a single idea how to fly.

    MANUEL. Come in Manuel. This is Foxtrot Bee Six Niner Four.

    I've cleared the Lich, but it's on a pre-programmed flight path. It's en route to your location.

    I have NO idea how to fly this thing, but without the pilot, it's weapons won't be firing, so you're safe on that account.

    ...So...is there some sort of manuel for this thing, or do I need to go to Covenant Driver's Ed?

    Nine smiled as he considered prodding every button he could.

    He found a directional stick, but he dared not touch it. Leaning it forward could mean putting it into a nose dive, or excellerating its current path.

    "...I could just CRASH it, but I don't want to flatten Manny." Nine raised his eyebrow. "Maybe I could figure out the weapons, but there's NO WAY I could accurately target anything. The only automated cannon this thing has can destroy a CITY BLOCK."

    Nine sat in the chair behind him, contemplating.

    "Manny will know what to do. He's smart."
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    Post  Manny February 18th 2013, 5:09 pm

    Manuel saw the "allied" Lich approach, puzzled by the fact it wasn't opening fire on the Innies... Until he got a message.

    MANUEL. Come in Manuel. This is Foxtrot Bee Six Niner Four.

    I've cleared the Lich, but it's on a pre-programmed flight path. It's en route to your location.

    I have NO idea how to fly this thing, but without the pilot, it's weapons won't be firing, so you're safe on that account.

    ...So...is there some sort of manuel for this thing, or do I need to go to Covenant Driver's Ed?

    Manuel stood there for a moment, not really believing what he had heard. The Freelancer had captured a vehicle that he had no idea to fly. It was, quite frankly, a stupid idea and Manuel really didn't have to solve John's problem.

    Except he had no other allies, and he himself was no expert on Covenant Liches.

    Foxtrot Bee Niner Six Four, this is Sierra 324, I hear you loud and clear.

    Last time I checked, I wasn't qualified to drive a Lich either. I suggest you abandon ship, let the Lich go until it runs out of fuel. Or crash it into the firefight below, just don't hit the trees. Sorry.
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    Post  Bad John February 19th 2013, 3:24 am

    "...Mmk. ALRIGHTY then." Nine punched the console in frustration. "Maybe Manny ISN'T smart."

    Nine looked at the console, his eyes narrow with annoyance. "Maybe I'm not smart. Hijacking this thing was a bad idea." Nine stood, stretching his legs. The chair was relatively uncomfortable, not built for humans.

    Nine stepped towards the console, and grabbed the directional stick.

    "Here goes."

    Nine shoved the control stick forward, and felt the ship slowly lean forward. He kept his balance, holding onto the console. The ship was going nose down, slowly but surely.

    Alien warnings and signals flashed on every screen. Nine struggled to keep track of them. "Fuck it. I don't even know what they MEAN."

    Then Nine smelled it. The scent of burning hair. The scratchy, sickly sweet breath.

    Nine turned to face a rather large brute. It had attempted to sneak up on him, although it was unarmed.

    "GRAAAAAAAAH" The brute bore down on Nine, its claws extended. Nine drew his magnum, but didn't have the time to bring it to bare.

    Manuel this is GAH!
    Nine was lifted and thrown hard against the console. This brute was nothing short of a mandingo. It had trained for years in barehanded combat, and had the sheer muscle to take blows that previously doubled over, or outright KILLED other enemies.

    Nine rose, as the brute's hand slapped down on the side of Nine's helmet. Its claw raked against his chestplate, sending him flying backwards yet again.

    ...Unnngh...

    Manny, the ship is coming down. Not sure if I'ma be able to aim it, but GAAAAAAAAH!!!
    The brute's teeth tore into Nine's arm, as he thrashed himself free. His bones held, but the bruises would sting his left bicep until he left the sim. Had this been real, they would have stung for weeks.

    Nine lit a plasma grenade and threw it. The brute sidestepped the attack with ease, but the saving throw gave Nine the time he needed to fight back, and HARD.

    His shoulder barreled into the brute's gut. He turned and swung his fist, forcing the brute to turn away with the force of his right hand.

    Nine attacked with his full force. His blows connected like a chain of iron balls. His fists and the blades of his fingers targeted the brute's muscles and nerves that fueled the creature's hateful attack.

    But they found no weak points. Nine was simply buying time.

    Nine swung his boot into the side of the immense challenger's head, connecting a blow that forced the brute backwards and away.

    Take THAT you son of a fucking BITCH!!!

    The damn thing is coming down, Manny! Got it?! This is my stop!

    The brute was standing in seconds, and swung its clawed arm. Nine blocked the blow with his own, but his wounded left arm was a clear hindrance. The brute targeted it, swinging its claws and raking at the wound. With a mighty swing, it knocked Nine back.

    The brute charged, running on all fours, berserk. Its tongue wagged in anticipation of its kill. His mighty claws sparked against the floor, as the powerful, armored steam engine approached the downed, battered Spartan.

    Nine shifted his weight, and lifted the brute with his heel. With a rolling toss, he hurled the brute off, slamming it against the console behind him.

    The Spartan rolled over his shoulder, and came up in a firing stance, his magnum drawn and ready. He drew a bead on the brute's face.

    POW.

    The brute fell, a hole in the side of its head.

    Nine stood, brushing himself off. He holstered his gun and sprinted. Soon, he was in the galley of the ship.

    It was mere meters from the ground. Nine leaped from the Lich.

    He hadn't gauged his descent. The first thing he landed on was trees. Twigs and leaves scratched at his helmet before he hit the soft soil. He rolled for a moment, and slammed painfully against the trunk of a tree.

    Nine struggled to look up.

    The Lich was going down.

    THRAKKOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM

    Nine felt the impact, as the Lich's metal warped. Its fusion coils detonated.

    A purple mushroom cloud burned the air. Nine smiled at his handiwork.

    I hope that wasn't a no-parking zone...
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    Post  Shad0wChas3r February 19th 2013, 8:13 am

    Blaine's hand narrowly met the top of the cliff he had climbed, as the massive Spartan pulled himself onto the top. After a while of climbing, Blaine moved away from the drop, as the soft soil crumbled to the ground below.

    "Well that was fuckin' difficult." Blaine shook his head in disbelief, as he peered out into the vast flat lands before him.

    Turning back, the irregular change in scenery was curious. Behind him was a rain forest type locale, while the plateau before him was like that of a desert, or Kansas, back on Earth.

    The sound of the Storm vehicles was much louder, however, and Blaine turned to his right to see a Scouting Ghost barreling towards him! Firmly planting his feet, Blaine hopped in place, swinging his foot at the Elite's head.

    His foot connected, as the Elite was ejected from the back of the vehicle, it's body splattered across the hull of the Revenant behind it. The Ghost it had previously been driving flipped and crashed along the sandy ground, until a purple fireball erupted from it's stopping point.

    The Revenant was much quicker than the Ghost, however. Blaine jumped onto the hood, denting it as he went. The Elite in the passenger seat snarled with anger, aiming it's Needle Rifle right at his face. The impact from the vehicle had left his shields completely down. Waiting for the right moment, Blaine ducked the shot from the Elite. Slicing his knife into the hood, the driver suddenly stopped the car, Blaine's knife holding strong. As the Revenant began to fall towards him, it's inertia keeping it in motion, Blaine's feet touched the ground, and with all of his might he threw it over his head.

    The behemoth vehicle stayed in the air for a glorious five seconds, before the vehicle AND it's passengers landed head first. Sheathing his knife, Blaine patted his hands together, proud of his kill.

    "That's going in the record boo- oof!" Blaine was instantly off of his feet again, and instead on the hood of the second Ghost, the Elite behind the drive shaft laughing with what appeared to be an Elite's smile.

    Blaine grinned beneath his helmet, and prepared his knife once more.

    ----------------------------------------------------------

    Blaine wiped the Elite's brain matter off of his knife and onto the sand beneath him. Dragging the corpse some distance from the vehicle, Blaine made an extra effort to see to it that his humiliator was humilated, long after death. Kicking at it's head as hard as he could, Blaine watched as it's head soured high above the tree tops from the Rain Forest.

    Walking back casually to the Ghost, Blaine clambered inside.

    "Odessa. What is the exact location of Agent Nine and Manuel?"

    "Legionaire Manuel is currently fighting an Insurrectionist base to your immediate North. It is unclear is Agent Nine is still alive-"

    "What's happened?!" Blaine barked.

    "Agent Nine brought down a Storm Lich not to far from Legionaire Manuel's last known location. The crash has caused multiple Insurrection and Storm casualties."

    "How can I get there?" Blaine asked.

    "There is a Storm base a Klick due North of your position. If you can clear out the Storm, you could do as Agent Nine did and dare I say 'Jack' a ride."

    "Thanks for the information Odessa." Blaine said, kicking up the Ghost's power, his shields popping.

    Blaine boosted the vehicle in the nearest direction of the Storm Base. If Nine had already been there, they would be on higher alert, and a half empty Storm Rifle wasn't going to be much help.

    He'd have to jack a Wraith.
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    Post  Bad John February 20th 2013, 9:41 pm

    Nine struggled to his feet, his armor dented, and his body fatigued. His struggle with that brute, and his harsh, un-aided landing left him running on fumes.

    "...I bet they think I'm dead." Nine smiled at the wreckage of the Lich, which had landed about a mile ahead of him. "I bet Manny thinks this was a good idea NOW. I must have cleared out a whole acre."

    Nine tried to take a step, but a pain as sharp and deep as a sword cut at his knee. Nine at first thought he was under attack, but realized he'd simply hyper-extended the joint.

    He held his mouth shut. Even alone, he was too proud to cry out in pain from a minor injury. Nine bent his leg. It would hurt, but it would hold.

    Chief would have pulled that stunt unscathed.

    Nine felt the lingering doubt with slight envy.

    He reflected on his other "peers."

    Jorge. Linda. Blaine. Manuel.

    All bigger. Stronger. More durable. Most of them could outpace and outlast him in any fight.

    It was times like this that reminded him that Spartan IIIs weren't meant to be heroes.

    Nine limped at first, then re-adopted a silent, steady stride.

    He wasn't the only one with those doubts. Halsey, ever so subtle. Mendez, who shouted it in his face. He wasn't made to last. He was to be poured into SPI armor and WASTED. Sent to a back-water world to die. His potential wasn't meant to be realized.

    Nine heard brutes.

    Perfect. They think I'm out of practice fighting Baby Kongs. Sim Jockeys.

    Nine hid behind a tree. They were close. He could smell them. They want me to fight a whole PACK now.

    Nine's head ached. He felt terrible still, from the crash. He'd nearly been eaten alive just moments ago.

    He holstered his guns, and quietly cracked his knuckles.

    Before he was the Hero of Ganymede he was a number. He and all his Spartan III peers were lucky. They were made to die.

    He was told to accept it. Get over it. That his death would be in the name of a greater cause.

    Bullshit.

    Nine sprang out of cover. The brutes were minors. A scouting party. They didn't see him coming. His silent footsteps carried him towards them with the speed of a creature straight out of a nightmare.

    None of those people could understand. Despite an army of people who called Nine an inspiration, they still couldn't.

    He was looked down upon by his heroes, and looked up to by people with whom he couldn't relate. He was in-between a God and a man.

    The IIs called him a sibling, but they didn't know how hard he had to work just to keep pace with them.

    Nine snatched a mauler off of a brute minor's hip. The brute turned, puzzled, just in time for Nine to pull the trigger, sending molten ammunition into the creature's face. The kickback of the weapon was less than the Spartan expected.

    Nine had to work to the limit just to put a dent in the immense divide that separated him from a man like Manuel. He had to put in hours of simulations, and weight training. It was WORSE when he had his blind spot. Every wound he took, or ally he failed to cover, was a badge of shame. Proof that he'd never be a fraction as powerful as his team-mates.

    Nine turned to block the claw of a brute. Overconfident, the brute put too little of its weight into the swing. He was nowhere near as strong as Nine's last combatant.

    Silently, the Spartan's brain calculated. Targeting weaknesses. He put his fist through the brute's ribcage. His knuckles held firm as they folded and broke bone. Purple blood smeared his fist. Nine wrapped his arms around the brute's massive elbow and twisted. The arm gave, breaking against the Spartan's grip.

    When compared in size, people snickered at Nine. When placed beside Linda, or Blaine, people didn't even believe he WAS a Spartan.

    Nine's elbow shattered the forward facial features of the brute. With a leg sweep and a standard takedown, he pinned the creature.

    The third brute, and Nine's final adversary, approached with a spiker. Nine ducked the point blank shots, and drew his magnum. He crammed the weapon against the brute's throat and fired twice, contact shooting the brute in the hollow of his collarbone. He stumbled backwards, then fell, choking on purple blood.

    He had no concept for how many people admired him. How many people saw his heart before they saw his skill.

    This is Agent Nine.

    Blaine, Manuel. I'm alright. Crashed the Lich, got off.

    I'm going for the enemy Covenant base. I've got to patch myself up a bit first.

    John out.

    His doubts in his abilities had been growing for a year now. Slowly metastasizing.

    And his answer to those doubts were growing fewer and more far between.

    His peers, the Model IIs and IVs, were getting stronger. Faster. As the years went by, even as Nine's armor was upgraded, his combat success percentage had decreased.

    His enemies were growing in potency.

    And he was remaining the same, destined to die model III.
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    Post  Manny February 20th 2013, 11:18 pm

    Manuel could see John's ally waypoint and he was going to make his way to it... But he had other matters to attend.

    Manuel began to scavenge from the bodies of the dead, picking up ammo for his rifle and magnum and two grenade belts along the way. The belts weren't full to begin with but he found enough to fill up two, half and half with plasma and frag grenades.

    Manuel continued along, the belts strapped around his waist and the ammo pocketed in his hard case. He wasn't sure he could carry much more. That's when he saw it, a gold mine... Figuratively. Among a pile of Grunts were three fuel rod canons, and some ammo. Manuel jogged over and picked up the fuel rod in best condition, before emptying the others of their ammo and pocketing it all away.

    Now Manuel was pretty sure he couldn't carry anymore. Fuel Rod on his back, rifle in his hands, side arm and trident on his hips, and grenade belts on his waist made Manuel quite a sight.

    Manuel really wanted to pick up a Storm Rifle, but he couldn't so be continued along towards John waypoint.

    "O, bring up a map. Where are we?" Manuel asked. Sure enough a map projected itself from Manuel's TACPAD.

    "You are near the beginning of a desert Spartan. Due northwest of you is the Insurrectionist base you spotted earlier. Farther north east is a 'Storm' base. Both your allies seem to be heading for the farther base, with Agent Nine being injured" O informed him.

    He decided to send out a message to John. John had mentioned Blaine, which Odessa failed to mention before John did, but Manuel didn't know the frequency. What he did know was John's and hopefully Blaine was on the same one.

    Nine, I can see your waypoint and I can tell you there's an Insurrectionst base closer to me than the Storm base is to you. If we take that, they'll probably have medicinal supplies for you know... people.

    Your call John.

    Manuel cut the message there, and walked straight ahead inbetween John and the Insurrectionist base. If John decided to cross the whole desert... He'd have problems in his current state. Few could escape a Lich exploding without any injuries.
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    Post  Bad John February 21st 2013, 12:19 am

    Nine stopped, receiving Manuel's message.

    "...Ugh. I hate fighting Innies." Nine considered his options.

    He wasn't in great shape. He'd been tossed, bitten, battered, and had fallen hundreds of feet.

    He really didn't need a hike.

    "...There might be some first aid. May as well."

    Alright. I'm en route to the nearby Insurrection base. They're probably rattled from me dropping a damn Lich in their forest.

    I may not be of that much help, but I'll find SOME way to assist.
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    Post  Manny February 22nd 2013, 9:05 pm

    Manuel began to make his way to the Insurrectionist base without John, but he had a good reason. They'd probably have vehicles as well, something John could use. If they were lucky, the Innies would have some warthogs so John could just sit in the passenger's seat if they had to leave, but Manuel was planning to make this base HIS.

    Before he began his jog, Manuel sent a message to Agent Nine.

    Whatever you do, keep heading for the Rebel base. I have a plan, don't rush after me.

    There was a small dune, and Manuel laid down behind the crest of it. Crawling up and activating his active camo, he looked at the base. It had taken him about an hour to walk to it, but he had made it. Hopefully John hadn't thought he'd been abandoned, but if Manuel knew John, he wasn't one for waiting.

    There a few guards on patrol, and he could see in what appeared to be a garage of sorts. The important thing was there was a warthog in there, a Gauss warthog.

    He had a problem though, he couldn't move without leaving footsteps. He needed a distraction, a good one. Manuel pulled out his silenced rifle and aimed down the scope. He found the farthest guard away from him and opened fire. Sure enough, the soldier went down and his comrades race to help him. Manuel bolted for the warthog and got in, not bothering to deactivate his active camo.

    The tires screeched inside the garage before the warthog shot out and was carried into the desert. Manuel could hear the Innies marveling at the sight of a warthog driving off with no visible driver. Manuel turned around but he could see none chasing him.

    "Idiots..." Manuel thought as he drove away, becoming visible once more as the armour ability needed to recharge. Eventually he found John, walking along as best he could. Manuel could tell something was off based of John's gait. Manuel slowed down the vehicle and stopped the warthog right in front of John, passenger seat right in front of him.

    "Want a lift?" He asked.
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    Post  Shad0wChas3r February 22nd 2013, 9:20 pm

    Blaine sighed with relief as he received Nine's A-OK message.

    Acknowledged Nine. You take care of yourself out there. Working my way to a nearby Storm outpost, I'm going to take a Phantom and work my way to you.

    Stay frosty Nine.

    Blaine's Ghost lurched forward as he sacrificed his shielding to supercharge the boost feature in the vehicle. He wasn't too far off from the base, but if he messed up here, it would be a real mess. One he didn't have the time for.

    He could see it in the distance, the Covenant Outpost, complete with shield systems covering the entire building. Growling, Blaine knew he'd have to take out those generators. Peering over to his left, a Wraith and a Brute Chopper were both out on a patrol.

    "That's a bizarre patrol." Blaine whispered to himself. "Either one of those vehicles could be used to destroy the generators."

    Thinking of the options, if he grabbed the Chopper, the Wraith would easily destroy him and the Brute driving it before he could grab the controls. Otherwise, he could take the Wraith and risk the Brute Chopper harassing him, staying within a close proximity to the tank.

    Shaking his head, Blaine propped himself up in his Ghost, piloting it close to the pair, as the two vehicles turned to face the abnormal Ghost. Allowing his shields to recharge, Blaine dove off of the vehicle, as the Chopper made a blind charge at him. His right foot narrowly avoided the Cog wheel that acted as the tire for the vehicle. Continuing his path, Blaine's shields flared for a second as he crashed onto the hull.

    Clambering into the Wraith's secondary gunning seat, Blaine turned to fire at the Chopper. The plasma arched towards the oncoming behemoth vehicle, the super heated bolts melting the tire to the sandy desert beneath it, simulating a glass effect with the super heated sand. Eventually, the wheel finally melted to an abnormal shape, and the Chopper's driver was ejected, as the vehicle nose dived. Landing on it's back, the Brute grasped it's head, the blades meant for decoration on the back of the vehicle plunged deep into it's chest.

    Hopping out of the gunner seat, Blaine punched open the Driver's hatch, ripping the metal clear out of the opening. The Elite inside growled, it's Needler at the ready. Blaine lashed his left foot in, kicking the weapon; with all it's sharp pink needles, into it's face. Ripping the screaming Elite out of the cockpit, Blaine commandeered the vehicle, turning towards the Outpost.

    This is Blaine. Hi-jacked a Wraith, going to take out important Storm supply depot. Will reserve a single Phantom and make my way to you.
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    Post  Bad John February 23rd 2013, 1:23 am

    Nine's legs felt like they were on fire. He breathed hard with each slow, trudging step through the the grass spotted, dry ground.

    He heard a warthog. Nine's head perked up. The last things he'd heard were Blaine's response and Manuel's message for him not rush.

    Take care of yourself.

    Don't rush.

    Nine gritted his teeth at both comments.

    Soon, Manuel was in front of him. God only knew how he stole the warthog he was in. Nine admired his team-mate's ingenuity. Last vehicle I stole ended up a crater.

    "Want a lift?"

    Nine smiled and nodded. He knew well that he needed time to just ride. Even if he needed to squeeze off a few rounds at attackers, he would at least be getting SOME rest.

    This is Blaine. Hi-jacked a Wraith, going to take out important Storm supply depot. Will reserve a single Phantom and make my way to you.

    ...Blaine sure isn't taking it easy.

    Then Nine realized how Manuel was looking at him.

    That strange, observant gaze. He was taking stock of Nine's condition. How he was slouching ever so slightly. Keeping weight off of one of his knees. Holding a scar on his armor, inflicted by the teeth of an enraged brute that had nearly KILLED him.

    Nine straightened himself. Bullshit. I'm not resting. I'm not down yet.

    Nine walked casually, masking the bruises and possible fractures beneath his armor. He pridefully stood and hopped into the bed of the Warthog, manning the turret. For a moment, as he tested his damaged leg and arm, he grimaced in pain. Functional, but hurting. He shifted his face to a prone, albeit enthusiastic face.

    "Alright. We set to go?"
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    Post  dragon of darkness February 24th 2013, 11:44 am

    "Welcome Spartan H-96 to the simulation's room." O said with what Hope thought was annoyance. "I am Odessa or O for short, and I am your personal guide during this simulation."

    Hope said nothing, as he waved his hand as if to say "What Ever"

    "You are in a Storm base as a prisoner. The three other Spartans in this simulation are currently in vehicles, and I cannot track their exact locations." O said waiting for an answer as Hope walked in the room.

    Hope shook his head and typed in his tac-pad "I couldn't talk since I was a kid, O."

    "Why is that?" O asked, curious

    "Why don't you know what happened to me when I was a kid, O?"

    "You've answered my question with a question, Spartan H-96. But you should know the files of these particular Operatives are highly classified." O replied.

    "I'll tell you later." Hope paused. "So I'm a prisoner?"

    "Yes." O replied bluntly.

    "Why am I a prisoner O?"

    "Your simulated capture might act as a secondary objective for the other Operatives currently in the simulation. Agent Nine has killed your captor, and is currently en route to the Base where you will be held captive."

    "Who is Nine? I never heard of him." Hope wondered.

    "Much of his file is strictly classifed. My basic knowledge on Freelancer Agent Nine is that he is known around the UNSC space as the 'Hero of Ganymede.' He's quite the Operative."

    "I want access to his file." Hope typed the phrase bluntly. "I like to know who I'm working with."

    Attempting to hack into the UNSC servers, Hope's attempt was unsuccessful, as the hologram of O appeared before him, flashing red.

    "Access denied. You do not have proper clearance." O said harshly, turning back to a mellow Green color. "Are you ready to join the simulation now?"

    "Yes" hope said, as his likeness was copied for the simulated world.

    The simulation started, Hope looked up to the sky and saw a Storm Phantom dropping supply's down. Looking down he saw that two Elites were guarding him. The two were Minors, clearly inexperienced in handling a Spartan before. Oblivious to the Spartan's skill, the Elites had neglected to chain his feet, which was a big mistake.

    Hope kicked one of the Minors in the back, it's Concussion Rifle hit the floor, the shock wave from it's round sent the other one flying in to a Ghost that was driving by. Hope ripped his arms in separate directions, the primitive restraints were no match for his Spartan strength, and shattered easily.

    This is Blaine. Hi-jacked a Wraith, going to take out important Storm supply depot. Will reserve a single Phantom and make my way to you.

    "Better get moving, I'll need that ride." Hope muttered to himself, sprinting in the direction of Blaine's transmission.


    Last edited by The angel of hope on February 24th 2013, 12:51 pm; edited 3 times in total
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    Post  Manny February 24th 2013, 12:49 pm

    Bad John wrote:Nine's legs felt like they were on fire. He breathed hard with each slow, trudging step through the the grass spotted, dry ground.

    He heard a warthog. Nine's head perked up. The last things he'd heard were Blaine's response and Manuel's message for him not rush.

    Take care of yourself.

    Don't rush.

    Nine gritted his teeth at both comments.

    Soon, Manuel was in front of him. God only knew how he stole the warthog he was in. Nine admired his team-mate's ingenuity. Last vehicle I stole ended up a crater.

    "Want a lift?"

    Nine smiled and nodded. He knew well that he needed time to just ride. Even if he needed to squeeze off a few rounds at attackers, he would at least be getting SOME rest.

    This is Blaine. Hi-jacked a Wraith, going to take out important Storm supply depot. Will reserve a single Phantom and make my way to you.

    ...Blaine sure isn't taking it easy.

    Then Nine realized how Manuel was looking at him.

    That strange, observant gaze. He was taking stock of Nine's condition. How he was slouching ever so slightly. Keeping weight off of one of his knees. Holding a scar on his armor, inflicted by the teeth of an enraged brute that had nearly KILLED him.

    Nine straightened himself. Bullshit. I'm not resting. I'm not down yet.

    Nine walked casually, masking the bruises and possible fractures beneath his armor. He pridefully stood and hopped into the bed of the Warthog, manning the turret. For a moment, as he tested his damaged leg and arm, he grimaced in pain. Functional, but hurting. He shifted his face to a prone, albeit enthusiastic face.

    "Alright. We set to go?"

    "Damn straight we are" Manuel sounded. He loved the moments leading up to battle.

    The Warthog drove off towards then Innie base and he could see some turrets on top.

    "Hit the heavy weapons first, I'll take care of the infantry as best as I can" Manuel shouted as the Innies opened fire. A group came out with rocket launchers and were facing the vehicle head on. Manuel swerved to the right, sending sand flying into their faces. Without proper visibility they couldn't see and thus couldn't fire. Manuel drew his magnum and shot most of them in the head, returning to run over the last one.

    The Warthog rocked as it ran over the man's body, but Manuel kept the wheel steady. He was running circles around the base, but the infantry casualties were minimal since driving was obviously first priority.

    "Once the guard towers are down, we can take out whatever vehicles they use! Then we clean out the base!" Manuel shouted over the sound of gunfire. The Warthog lurched forward a little explosions rocked it. Manuel looked behind to see Innies on Mongooses, two per each. The passengers were equipped with a variety of explosives: grenade launchers, sticky detonators, concussion rifles, and plasma launchers.

    "Nine, the mongooses!" Manuel shouted as he turned right, going for another lap around the base.
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    Post  Bad John February 24th 2013, 3:51 pm

    Nine turned to see the ATVs behind him. They were armed to the teeth, and steadying their weapons.

    Fortunately, Nine was far faster on the draw than them. He aimed his magnum and fired twice. The drivers took the rounds in their unprotected heads. The mongoose drivers wavered, then toppled, their vehicles crumpling and exploding as they rolled.

    "Got 'em!" Nine turned the turret towards the first tower. He began to open fire, but the pain in his damaged arm flared up. He felt a chip of bone slide.

    "Gaaaaaah..." Nine lowered the arm. It was as he'd feared. His arm was damaged worse than he knew. He aimed the turret with one arm, clumsily peppering the first tower, killing its occupants with the unsteady stream of firepower.

    Another platoon moved into position, aiming precision rifles and stolen covenant carbines. Their firepower was hindered by their aim. They were spraying and praying rather than aiming and taking accurate shots. Nine was unhindered by such a weakness. He aimed his submachine gun with his good arm and opened fire, spraying the insurrectionists down. Most were wounded, some were killed as the warthog blew past them.

    The remaining towers were in sight. Nine aimed and fired, but he couldn't keep the turret steady without using his bad arm.

    Do it.

    Nine gritted his teeth and tried. He held the constantly vibrating turret with both arms. His bicep felt like it was aflame.

    The tower's occupants were killed, and the towers themselves were damaged beyond repair. Nine released his grip, and drew a spike grenade. He planted his bad leg, and threw it as hard as he could. "CATCH!!!"

    The grenade landed in their vehicle depot, lodged in the hood of a warthog. The explosion damaged the surrounding vehicles, and destroyed the enemy warthog's engine in a hail of shredding metal. It did worse to the mechanic beside the warthog, the superheaded spikes tearing off his left hand and putting holes in his ribcage.

    Nine observed his handiwork with disgust. "We got 'em! Towers are busted, and I took out most of their working vehicles!"

    Left arm damaged. Possible stress fracture.

    Left leg damaged. Severe bruising.
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    Post  Manny February 25th 2013, 9:32 pm

    Manuel drove one last lap around the base, seeing that the Innies outside were dead. Manuel drove into the damaged base and stopped the Warthog.

    "Over there, by the barracks" Manuel said, pointing out the building next to the barracks. It was a medium sized place with lots of chairs, cots, and medical supplies inside.

    "Alright John, you'll probably have to sit on the floor. MJOLNIR is heavier than your average Innie. If you can patch yourself up, then I'll watch the entrance. If you need help, I'm here." Manuel said, drawing his rifle and heading to check the door.

    "We'll have to set a waypoint here for any UNSC forces around. In the meantime, once you're done John, we should focus on clearing out every building here. It'll be close quarters combat for a lot of it, so I could use you" Manuel thought aloud.

    Manuel set to work on his TACPAD, setting up a waypoint at the coordinates of the base.

    "Waypoint set for UNSC allies," O reported.

    "Thanks O. You alright John?" Manuel called back.


    Last edited by Manny on February 25th 2013, 9:44 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Plot confusion)
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    Post  Bad John February 25th 2013, 11:06 pm

    Nine fell off the flatbead of the warthog to his hands and knees, moving into the small medical bay with a limp of pain and urgency. His arm was slowly getting worse and worse, sharp spurs of pain spreading. He kicked the door aside, and sat crosslegged on the floor, inspecting his left arm.

    Nine turned and kicked a shelf, breaking its leg and sending a medical kit sliding over to him.

    Taking off his helmet, he jammed a few pain pills into his mouth. That should keep his leg in working condition.

    Now for the more urgent issue. His flaming, busted bicep.

    Something was stinging. Burning. Something between the bones of his bicep, where the brute had bitten.

    He gritted his teeth and flexed. "...Gimme a minute..." Nine groaned as he drew his knife.

    If it was a broken bone, the armor would have set it by now. This is...somethin' else.

    Nine looked for the most compromise in his armor, noticing a small trickle of blood. His suit's autorepair had plugged a hole on the side of his arm, just below the shoulder.

    Nine scraped it open, and opened a medkit, grabbing some sterile tweezers built for extracting bullets.

    "...Three, two ONE."

    Before his body could react, he plunged the tweezers into his arm.

    They hit something hard, working around a nerve as Nine clasped the object deep in his arm.

    His arm wasn't broken. A Spartan's bones were more permanent and unbreakable than the hull of a ship.

    Nine yanked, and the object slowly slid out.

    "GMMMMNNNN...." Sweat poured down his forehead, as the object's tip finally came loose.

    "Ah..." Nine breathed a sigh of relief.

    Snap pop pop. His armor began to autorepair the whole, and its healing protocols set and filled the wound with a painkiller, a flesh stint, and biofoam.

    Nine took a long look at the object stabbed into his arm.

    "Manny, get a load of this. The brute that bit me left a motherfucking TOOTH stuck in my arm." Nine flexed his arm. The pain was a dull ache, but it could work. Hold weight. Fire weapons.

    Nine stood. His leg was in a similar state of blunt pain, but it was livable.

    "Let's start busting heads." Nine reloaded his guns. "I'm right behind you."
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    Post  Manny February 26th 2013, 5:49 pm

    Manuel nodded before looking at his TACPAD again.

    "Give me an aerial view of the Station O," Manuel ordered.

    "Of course," O obliged, and sure enough, a map appeared from Manuel's TACPAD. The Station was somewhat underdeveloped. Out of the five building sites, only four had been used. The vehicle depot, the barracks, a field hospital, and a reactor. One of which was in poor shape, two abandoned, and the last unable to hide troops. The turrets had been taken care of, so all that was left was the main building.

    Manuel approached the main door, placing his back to the wall on one side of it.

    "We go in on three," Manuel said looking at his ally, setting his rifle to full auto fire. Manuel thought back to his friend Miguel, and how they'd clear out buildings of hostiles. Generally though they went in with some fairly dark objectives... Then again, weren't John and Manuel here to flush out the Innies? Or at least Manuel assumed John knew that.

    For many reasons Manuel hadn't straight up asked him. The main one being that John placed restrictions on what they could and couldn't do. He didn't need a friendly fire scenario happening. He just wanted to do what he had to do, before John had a chance to protest. Innies were perhaps the only enemies Manuel had some sympathy for, because they were human. He might have been tempted to follow John's lead with them... but the state of the galaxy did not have room for a divided Humanity.

    The Legion had sworn to protect Humanity, even from itself. It was time to act.

    "One. Two. Three!" Manuel said kicking down the door and sweeping the area with his rifle. There was a forklift inside, lots of supply crates, and sure enough, there were lot of guards. Those nearby Manuel were mowed down by his bullets before the Spartan noticed there was a catwalk above though, prompting Manuel to switch to burst fire.

    "John, take out the ones down here, I'll focus on the ones up there!" Manuel shouted before throwing a large table onto its side. He sat behind it, the table just enough to cover him. Manuel flipped over and aimed his rifle at an Innie with a DMR, the kind used during the Fall of Reach.

    He shot the man in the eye, causing him to stumble and fall off the catwalk. He saw some more Innies approach with snipers of human and Covenant design. Not Storm, but actual Covenant design. Some of them had Focus rifles, also seen during the Fall of Reach.

    Manuel shot one sniper, but a group of four concentrated their fire on the table. Manuel popped his head out before having a sniper bullet graze his shields, forcing him back into a rapidly deteriorating cover.

    Manuel activated his active camo and slowly peeked out again. The table was almost melted through by now, so every shot he fired was going to have to count. Manuel took aim and shot the fire two snipers in the heads, causing them to fall down. The ther two stopped firing long enough for Manuel to kill the third, and the fourth while his shields took the damage from the Focus Rifle. With the Focus Rifles no longer targeting him, Manuel moved towards a structural support beam.

    On his way, two sniper shots to the chest shattered his shields and dented his MJOLNIR. It was enough to cause Manuel some blunt force trauma. He continued along, taking cover behind the beam. Sniper fire chipped away at the sides of the beam, trying to expose the Spartan's large frame. Manuel waited for his active camo to recharge, which wasn't long considering it was partially charged beforehand. Activating it once again, Manuel crawled from crate to crate, finally reaching a ladder. Manuel climbed up as quietly as he could, but when he reached the top, there was a sniper blocking his way.

    His camo wasn't going to last forever, so Manuel kicked the man off the catwalk. The man snapped his neck in the fall as Manuel turned around and opened fire on the confused rebels. If he could keep the sniper fire off John, he'd probably has a better chance down there.
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    Post  Bad John February 26th 2013, 6:24 pm

    "Hey, wait-"

    Before Nine knew it, his questions were ignored. Manuel had opened fire, as had the rebels.

    His first instinct was to negotiate. To shout for them to surrender. They knew not that their chances were so slim. Their lives were so close to being over.

    Nine gritted his teeth. Just a sim. Besides, they wouldn't have listened anyway.

    Nine slid behind a crate. Assault rifle ammunition peppered the ground around him. He pressed his back against the crate to keep it from toppling.

    Nine holstered his magnum and drew his submachine gun, clutching it in his right hand. He'd have to be fast. He moved out of cover, his left arm raised. His hard-light shield activated, blooming and deflecting a stream of hot bullets.

    The ricochet, as predicted, played havoc on the insurrectionists. They panicked, getting in each-other's way as they moved for cover, misunderstanding the situation. Two men were killed outright by the reflected bullets, one stricken in the throat, and another taking a round just beneath the eyelid.

    Nine dropped to one knee and steadied his right arm, firing a spraying arc of submachine gun ammo. The men moved wholesale into cover, none having the gumption to remain in the open.

    It was Nine's game now. He charged after them, holstering his submachine gun. In one hand, he held his magnum. In the other, his knife.

    Trucido. True, brutal close quarters. No alien monsters. No ambiguity. Nine was engaging in slaughter.

    The first man failed to even see Nine coming. The Freelancer extended one arm, wrapping it around his neck and drawing him into a headlock. With a hard squeeze, he popped the man's throat. Nine dropped him, turned on one knee and fired his magnum, putting a warm hole in another man's forehead.

    Before they knew it, he was out of sight.

    "FORM UP! He can't take us all at once!!!" The insurrectionists rallied.

    It was a grave mistake. They all covered each-other's backs.

    None noticed the grenade. Nine had pulled the pin and tossed it the moment they began to close ranks.

    The explosion was lethal to five men, and gravely wounded two.

    Nine hid behind a box. His work was almost done. Three more remained on his floor. A sniper bullet whizzed by him, nearly shooting off his fingers. He moved to cover before he heard a man falling from the floor above. Manuel had killed the sniper in but a moment. Thanks for the cover.

    Nine charged the remaining three men, moving from cover to cover. He fired his magnum as he made his final press. The bullet pierced the man's heart, throwing him to the floor.

    The remaining two men held their ground, looking for Nine in clear panic. Their team-mates were dead. Their killer was in their midst. There was no escape.

    "Sorry."

    The men turned too late. Nine had slipped behind them as silently as a breeze. He seized their heads, and brought them together in a brutal, painful motion, cracking their skulls.

    Nine ducked behind cover and looked up to the floor above. It was Manuel's game now. Nine aimed his pistol and prepared to offer light cover-fire.
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    Post  Manny February 27th 2013, 6:22 pm

    Manuel charged through the other Innies on the catwalk. With no cover and no where to go but back, the eventually began bumping into each other. Manuel's shields held, mainly because their aim was hindered by their fear. Manuel mowed most of them down before having to reload, but he didn't bother. He drew his trident and stabbed through two Innies, ripping the Trident to the side to free it.

    One Innie however had hidden beneath the bodies of his comrades and was now climbing down the ladder for safety. Although he didn't know much about the two Spartans, he got a bad feeling about the black armoured one. He began to run for the entrance, and was almost there until Manuel jumped from the catwalk and blocked him.

    The Spartan kicked the rebel in the chest; sending him flying backwards. The sound of bones could be heard, and the Innie could be seen holding his ribs. Some of them had probably been broken due the Spartan's kick.

    Manuel smiled behind his visor. He had a prisoner now, or a source of intel as he liked to call them. He'd get what he needed and dispose of the man, but of course he wasn't going to tell the Innie that.

    "So, we've got us a prisoner John..:" Manuel said over his shoulder. He knelt down.

    "You know you're lucky to have survived that kick. Now I suggest that if you want to STAY alive, you should answer our questions..." Manuel said before driving his trident into the ground next the rebel's head.

    "Fuck you!" the rebel shouted before Manuel kicked him the ribs again, causing some more cracking.

    "Ok! Ok!" The rebel shouted.

    "Are there any others?" Manuel asked.

    "...No."

    "Is that the truth?"

    "Yes!"

    "You sure?"

    "Yeah!"

    Manuel kicked him the ribs once again.

    "I swear!" The prisoner shouted. There were tears of pain in his eyes.

    Manuel looked at John, at the moment not caring about whatever he was thinking. Manuel was looking out for their safety and the success of the mission.

    "Do you buy it?"


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