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#Halo

6/4/2006 10:07:46 AM
150

My Brand new Fan Fiction- Spartan 3

Not long ago, I read a post by someone who's name I forget. He suggested that Colonel ackerson from the Halo books stole some Spartans away for testing on the Halo's. I thought this was a very good idea. Then, I read another guys story of A Grunt Messiah. I was inspired and armed with a plot. I've spent ages on this so please enjoy. More parts are on the way. Spartan III Landfall-Part one 0135(Ship’s Time), September 19, 2552 (Military Calendar) /UNSC cruiser Pillar of Autumn, location unknown. Medic Andrew Crauford had never been the most enthusiastic soldier that the UNSC had to offer. Tall, quiet and a steadfast atheist, he had been conscripted straight out of his course in Medicine at Oxford University and put on this ship. At first he thought he was safe, what with all that Titanium between him and The Covenant. Not so. Now, Captain Keyes had given the order to abandon ship and The Covenant swarmed over the Pillar Of Autumn, both inside and out. His good friend Wayne Picton, stood nearby, MA5B held ready. “Go on, get inside and get it ready, Kaori.” He said. He spoke to the female pilot, Kaori Ditama. It was her job to get the lifeboat ready to drop. Meanwhile, Andrew, Wayne and three other crewmen and Marines had to hold off The Covenant Boarders. Down to their right, the airlock had closed and sealed that attack route off, leaving the left hand corridor, the one that they’d barricaded and fortified with crates and debris. A pack of grunts had just rushed their position and died for their efforts, and all had gone eerily quiet. Wayne ran a hand through his brown hair and asked: “Well, would anyone like to guess where the Bastards went?” Suddenly, a crewman at the barricade was lifted up and slammed into the wall, apparently by thin air. Slowly, his neck began to puncture with the pressure exerted on it, the crimson blood dropping on the floor. “There! Look! It’s an Elite!” yelled Crauford, pointing at a blurred section of air before the struggling crewman. The others levelled their weapons and let loose their arsenal, three MA5B assault rifles, a plasma rifle and an M6D pistol. Not much, but it worked. The Elite’s Camo generator overloaded, along with his shield. He roared, put his Plasma rifle into his left hand, and while holding onto the pinned crewman, filled the nearest human with enough plasma to power a city block for two minutes. Taken aback by their allies’ death, the survivors stepped away. “This is for Reach, you Bastard.” Gargled the stricken crewman, whose lifeblood was pouring away. He had unholstered his Pistol and jabbed it into the Elite’s mouth. He pulled the trigger and the high velocity bullet tore out the back of the killer’s head and sprayed brain matter and skin over the wall. In it’s death throes, the Elite’s hand spasmed and clamped down on the soldier’s neck so hard it cracked. Taking dog tags if they could, the survivors could hear more grunts approaching. “All right, we’re ready to go!” called Kaori from inside the lifeboat. Andrew, Wayne and the surviving Marine boarded onto the boat and it shot off into space. The Grunts scaled the barricade and observed the space around them. Was this all that the previous pack had died for? Maybe it was because the last lot were no good at their job. “Hey, boss, what’s this?” one of them squawked. A red armoured Grunt waddled over and inspected the object his comrade was looking at. It was a square and had a counter on the top. “How the Hell should I know?” That was all the Grunt got to say as the C-12 Private Wayne Picton had left behind detonated and wiped out the entire pack of Grunts.
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