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    Devotion Through Servitude

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    Manny
    Freelancer Operative

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    Devotion Through Servitude

    Post  Manny on February 16th 2015, 3:51 pm

    March 24, 2558
    Classified Location

    The feeling of warmth. The crackling of fire. The smell of burning and chemicals. The sound of breathing.

    This was the first information conveyed to him by his senses before even opening his eyes. Wherever he was, he was not alone. Whatever his next move was, he had to do it within milliseconds of opening his eyes.

    So he did. Upon opening his eyes and sitting up, the first thing he noticed was details were hard to see. What was not however was a grey armoured figure next to him, and more importantly the magnum on it's hip. Most likely a guard.

    Making a dash, he swiped the gun and punched the guard's visor. The glass shattered, leaving deep gashes into the attacker's fist. He bore his teeth in pain as the guard fell, turning around to face the source of cries for help.

    Two women were in front of him, dressed in lab coats. The older of the pair, indicated by her curly grey hair, was reaching for something on her hip. The younger one spoke to him, but the words did not register in his brain. The words sounded incredibly odd; perhaps she spoke a different language? While attempting to process the message, he saw the older lady raise a grey object, shaped vaguely like... A gun.

    Before she could fire at the assailant, he had closed the gap between them and dislocated her shoulder in process of disarming her. He pressed one gun against her head, and the other bleeding hand held the second pistol in the direction of the younger woman. Again, their foreign tongue prevented them from communicating with him until he registered "please" at the end.

    What did that mean?! What was the rest of the sentence? Did he know words in their tongue, or did they know words in his?

    "Round two asshole!" He heard a third women say from behind before feeling an immense impact in the back of his head. He rocked forwards, slamming into a painting and bouncing off from the sheer force. His arms caught his fall before collapsing underneath him.

    "What?!" Had he missed this person? No, there were only three people in room. What was going on?

    "You told me the sedative would work!" was the last thing he heard. The last thing he saw was the source of the voice, a tall man with blond hair and... red eyes? Before he could further ponder the sight, his world went black.

    He later awoke to the feeling of warmth. The crackling of fire. The smell of burning and chemicals. The sound of breathing.
    Wherever he was, he was not alone. Whatever his next move was, he would have to be quick about it.

    Yet, something caused him to hesitate. He felt an odd sense overcome him, as if he was eerily familiar with this situation already. It didn't matter however, he had to act.

    Except the moment his head came up he was met by the sound of a shotgun and cold metal against his forehead. He looked up, staring at a blurred grey figure. He continued to look at it until his vision cleared. Now he saw an armoured female, minus a helmet, wielding the weapon.

    Her face seemed oddly familiar. As if he'd seen the combination of blonde hair, green eyes, and pale skin before. She said something to him, but he didn't understand.

    "Did you forget how to speak English?" The woman asked, this time her words were clear.

    "Give him some time to adjust. Your words were probably muffled and he has yet to fully regain all his sense," another voice said. He turned his head to see a woman next to him, dressed in a lab coat. She had red hair, green eyes and pale skin. She also seemed familiar but from where he did not...

    The gun. She had been with the other lady with the gun. He scanned the room quickly, trying to find his would be killer. He found her sitting next to him, her shoulder already put back in place.

    "Who are you? Where am I?" He asked, his voice rising in volumes.

    "Both excellent questions my friend," a man said, stepping through a door. It was the same man he saw before passing out. "The better question is, who are you?"

    He scoffed at the man's question, the answer seemingly obvious to him. When he attempted to answer, no words left his mouth. He tried again, forcing himself to speak.

    "I am..." He started but could not finish. Not due to inability to speak, but because he did not know. He looked at the blonde man in surprise.

    "It is as we feared. Miss Boatic, it seems you have you work cut out for you," the man said before leaving the room.

    "Now I know you're most likely confused, and perhaps scared, but we need you to know that we're here to help," the red haired woman, Miss Boatic, told him.

    "Who are you?" He asked, attempting to sit up more. Instead, the shotgun to his forehead forced him down.

    "I'm Dr. Boatic, but you can call me Anne. The women on your other side is Nurse Gomez," He turned to look at the older lady, taking note of her appearance. She seemed kind, her warm brown eyes showing no hostility towards him despite the fact he had dislocated her shoulder. He felt a pang of guilt, unsure as to why. She had raised a weapon at him, so the logical thing to do was defend himself.

    "And the lady with the shotgun is Spartan Jessica L-080, which I'd appreciate it of she put it down," Dr. Boatic, Anne, finished giving the "Spartan" a stern look.

    "No can do Miss. Not until he calms down," The Spartan replied.

    "I don't think a shotgun to his head is going to help," Anne frowned.

    "I won't be doing an encore performance; last time my face was smashed into a painting," he said, reassuring the Spartan he would behave. He needed answers now, not a fight. The Spartan looked at him before backing away, but shotgun was still pointed in his direction.

    "Now that've we introduced ourselves, can you tell us anything about yourself?" Anne asked.

    "I really couldn't. I don't even remember my name,"

    "Then we have a lot of work to do. Your name is a good place to start and we'll see if that triggers anything," Anne replied, grabbing a folder full of papers. She read it for a few seconds, frowning all the while.

    "Well? Who am I?"

    "Legionnaire Spartan II Manuel 324,"
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    Bad John
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    Re: Devotion Through Servitude

    Post  Bad John on February 16th 2015, 7:25 pm

    Weird coincidence. I'm was writing up a one-shot for Halo when I noticed this.

    Good shit. I look forward to seeing where this goes.
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    Bad John
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    Re: Devotion Through Servitude

    Post  Bad John on February 17th 2015, 12:36 am

    By the way, sorry about a few minutes ago, Manny. I was waiting for you to show up, got distracted, and started reading a comic. D: Didn't mean to ditch you.

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