Hate. Pride. Sorrow.

[Turn 360 and walk away]

Because I feel obligated to, I am laying down some ground rules.

1) All posts must adhere to RERed rules and regulations.
2) No matter who or what you play, try not to godmode too excessively.
3) Events conspiring within this thread conspire through the second installment and through fictional events that do not lead into the Halo 3 story arc. I do this to protect the people (me) who have yet to play the third from spoilers.

Formalities are now over.

[Turn 360 and walk away]

"A soldier will fight long and hard for a bit of colored ribbon." ~Napoleon Bonaparte

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A group of grey-dressed men and women sat in the grass. The air smelled a sickly sweet, a product of smoke and blossoming weeds. The clay they now crouched on would have once been a toll booth, and, like the ragtag band of marines, all but obliterated by war and famine. A freeway on-ramp to their right, off-ramp to their left, and a caved-in tunnel stood before them. The rotten stench of brute drifted in the breeze. New Mombai barely clung to it's shape, and seemed to loose more ground with each passing day. A man in full cyan gear looked upon the group of fighters, and snapped his head forward in a jerk. The wind picked up, bringing with it ash, dirt, and dust. Seeing this, the cyan soldier cut through the air, hand flap and parallel to the ground. The dust storm blackened the sky, and the sun was no more, if only for that second. The leathernecks broke, half going topside up one ramp, half up the other. As they crested the artificial hill, the air stood still, and the dust stopped, suspended. The first bullet set the air aflame, followed by a volley as more and more exited the chamber. Within an instant, the others followed suit, letting instinct take over.
"Get to cover!"
"I'm reloading!"
"Three banshees on our six!" the ambush of a prisoner train held surprises of it's own. As the molten gas rained down, the attackers scattered, and the upper hand went to the elites. Grenades were lobbed, and firearms were expended. UNSC held their ground, and forged ahead. Power exchanged hands. The blinding flurry ceased, and the blue-green supersoldier stepped out. They had one.
"Heads up!"
Everyone dove as a singular banshee lobbed plasma torpedoes at those who survived the encounter, swooped up, and attempted another fly-by.
"This is a cowards tactic!"
"But it's working." the Spartan replied, shortly. Without a moments notice, he pushed upwards, and left the ground, intercepting the wailing machine. He punched through the soft metal flap, exposing a squid-like head. Through barrel-rolls, tight turns, and an areal ballet of maneuvers, the Spartan held on, and finally regaining balance, delivered a crushing blow to the alien's head. Now pilot-less, the banshee spiraled out of control. the Spartan jumped off, and landed in a roll some hundred meters away from his team. His trigger finger twitched as the missile collided with the side of a building, and he walked on, not bothering to take a shot at a grunt running below him, clutching a hole in it's air tank.

[V]

A pair of marines were in the prone position, looking over a ledge from the sixth floor of a parking garage building. One was before a massive rifle, most of his focus was through that scope, fixed upon the eight-foot alien adorned in golden armor. The either simply wielded a pair of binoculars. It was a female figure, and she too, was fixed upon the very same creature. It was obvious what these two were; sniper and spotter. "Wind speed looks to be twenty-four miles an hour..." The female voice had announced. "I'd estimate the target is maybe fifteen meters away distance, and we're at a thirty meter height above it..." She studied the standard upon the charred remains of what used to be a Warthog. It was flapping towards them. "Northeast...the wind is against us." Brushing a strand of her collar length black hair behind her ear, she put her eyes through the binoculars again. "Point of impact...approximately two-twenty degrees. This distance, I don't think we'll need to worry about ballistic trajectory."
The woman finished her report. She seemed to speak perfect English, yet, she had retained her accent from her home in the far east of China. She, as well as the sniper, were draped in very light armor, consisting of light kevlar pants and a black spectra vest, colored in the urban camouflage for their benefit. The hardest piece of armor either of them had, was the metal skullcap, which belonged to the spotter. It was lying on the ground beside her feet.
"Want me to run it by you again, Al? Or do you have it?"
The sniper began to adjust his scope, to counter everything the weather was throwing at them. "Alright, I'm clear to fire..." he said. "Perfect shot..."
The woman covered her ears and looked away. Silence for a few moments...then something akin to a crash of thunder, and the clinking of the massive .50cal shell hitting the floor by the sniper. A shot through the head and into the pavement beneath. The elite in gold armor fell to the ground, in a pool of it's own blue and purple blood.
"Got him..." The sniper said with a smile, and looked at his assigned partner. "That's ten in a row with no miss, Mei Hu." He held his open palm to her, and she met it with her, completing the "High Five!" This was a win-win for them. Not only was the leader of that little alien troop dead, it was also the only being capable of piloting the violet mortar tank parked between them.
"Nothing but grunts now..." The female marine reported. "Should we relocate?"
The sniper nodded. "Find us a spot, I need to pack up the rifle."
With that, the woman began off, quickly remember something she had to tell him. When she faced around to address him, the flash of purple approaching the building caught her attention. The figure became more easy to recognize; a banshee on a crash course. "Al! Get out of there, now!"
He shook his head. "Don't worry, I know what I am doing." The wailing sound it was making started to become an ear piercing screech as it came closer.
"No! I mean move, incoming to the left!!! Move it!!"
The sniper finally looked up from his firearm, and his eyes went wide, as he began to run. But he was aware too late. The banshee slammed into the side of the building, sending a section of rubble to their level...right ontop of the sniper. He was killed instantly.
"......" The spotter stood in awe, dazed. She was dioriented...completely unsure of what to do now. "Al..."

[B]

"Remember your mission." The radio blasted into the cockpit of the "Boomerang." The boomerang was an old ship used by the humans when the Covanent gained the banshees. The boomerangs were made keenly for that, the banshees. Though the boomerangs lacked the armor the banshees had but it was much faster and more manueverable, with the exception of hover. The boomerangs didn't have much mobility in hover but used mostly to land so land targets come difficult to the boomerangs for most. People got lazy and just called the boomerangs boomers, they called them boomerangs because the plane's shape. "Yeah yeah.." A cocky voice responded. "You don't have to remind me. Help the cyan guy." A general replied almost immediately. "Such cockiness.. You shame the spartans." The man in snow white spartan issued armor chuckled. "Sure, sure." He began. "I'm sure someone who was caught stealing a banshee from a Covanent base then shooting my way out only to realise you were attacking it makes me a spartan. Hah. Yeah... A thief really does give the spartans a good name eh?" He chuckled again as the man on the other side cursed. "Whatever, ok? I have a mission to do and you questioning my confidence is not helping morale." The other line shut up as the ship came closer. A banshee, fresh meat, but as the boomer was making ready for a dogfight someone from the ground took it down first as it crashed into a building. "Aw... Dissappointing..." The man mumbled lamentingly.

"Hmm.." A growl escaped the throat of a charcoal black elite as he observed a marine admiringly through the scope of his rifle. "Look how they work.." He mumbled to a companion in bright red to the right of him. "They use someone to help them find targets... Impressive." A sword at his side, a big rifle in his hand? What more could he need. "Why don't you shoot him?" His companion asked as the other shook his head before placing his eye back to the scope. "I haven't met a good challenge yet.. Perhaps this one will do nice... He's eyeing the captain.." His companion began to grow restless. "Kill the human!" Suddenly a shot rang out and the brother in yellow armor fell. "Good shot..." The one in black mumbled. "I think I found my competition." Suddenly the whirling of a banshee and the sniper was no more. "Aw... Dissappointing..." He mumbled as he inspected the ruins and saw the scout there alive. "Hm.. She knows about sniping... I think I'll have fun with this one later. Oh yes... Alot of fun." He laughed as his comrade looked at him incredulously, obviously fretting over the loss of his leader and is confused at his ally's admiration of... HUMANS. The red one walked off and the black one stayed. Unlike the other proud Covanent, the one in black kept his armor as dirty as possible. There was no shine, no lead to his existance. He was as if he were just another chunk of rubble.

[Turn 360 and walk away]

"....'Why there be no Arbiter Grunt?' and then the Sangheili raised up his plasma rifle and shot him! And said 'stupid Unggoy! You die too easy! that's why.' and then the demon attacked! But it wasn't the same demon! The real one looks cool. this one looked stupid! And then they all fired! and we all fired! and then we air-bombed them! And then the new demon killed them all! He shot my tank!" The red-orange alien pointed to a newly patched area in it's methane tank. He stared at another grunt looking for approval, in the ghostly glow of the holding bay of a Covenant Cruiser.
"Sure... it's just like the time you walked in the room, thirty Yanme'e flew away, and a hunter kneeled. We believe you." The second grunt patted the first on the back, them beckoned a third over. "You hear this stupid story?"
The third payed no heed and continued to lower himself to a sitting position on the floor. "I been waiting for food nipple all day! when I gonna drink?"
the second slapped the third on the back of the head, and the third punched the second's shoulder. The first flicked the third's nose, and the third went to poke the first's eye, missed, and hit the second's. The second blindly stumbled, knocking the other two as flat on their backs as anyone could.
"You! Unggoy! What did you say?" An elite in gleaming silver armor grabbed the first's arm, and raised the disoriented grunt to his eye level.
"I was in one of the squads escorting a prisoner train from a stinky human city. A different Demon attacked and everyone died! Another!"
"And you did not stay to protect it? If we had those pathetic humans right now, We'd be able to attack them at their heart! Worthless unngoy!"
A door slid open, and number one was dragged through, then another, then another. the fourth closed on his foot. They were in a huge, dark, circular room.
"I understand this is a waste of time," The Elite shook around the grunt still in his clutches, "But this unngoy ran away from battle following an ambush on the prisoner train. He reports that everyone died."
The familiar voice of the three High Prophets in unison filled the room. "This is an abomination! It cannot be tolerated! You must realize, Worthless One, that that mistake could have lost this war? yes?"
"You don't understand! There was another Demon!"
"Sure... and I, High Prophet of Mercy, complimented YOU on your 'good looks'. Everyone knows you are not to be trusted with words and stories. Another disgrace!"
Then the picture came into focus for Number One. "They are communicating over comm-link!"
"That is because a meeting with you in person is not worth our time. However, in light of recent events, I'd say a shaming is in order. Even for you, unngoy, this is low."
A grunt ran out with a piece of charcoal in hand, and scribbled the mark of shame upon Number One's chest. "Our brand is expensive to run this often." The elite finally dropped Number One, and he came down on his head. A capsule closed around the grunt and his armor was dyed a dull silver with a thick mist. "And our armor is of too high a degree for the likes of you to touch it."
"Why you make me Arbiter?"
"Because we like laughing at you. Now, go take care of a small Flood problem in the docking area of Prosperous Voyage, on the moon of what used to be Reach. Begone!"
The grunt shuffled away, and the elite in silver armor bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Captain Wite'ke'e, for providing us entertainment. you may go now."

[V]

The spotter stood there for a few moments more...before realizing what she had to do. She ran back to the original spot where they had started, and picked her helmet up from the floor. She put it on, but only to use the comm. link inside. "Arrow 8 here..." she began. "...reporting target eliminated..."
"Glad to hear it, Arrow 8." The male at the other end responded. "You've knocked out several important figures...but it's usually the sniper we have report these...is something wrong with him?"
"..."
"Well?"
"Sir, he's...not here...crushed to death by concrete."
"Oh...I'm sorry to hear that, Arrow 8...I know how close they make you sniper/spotter pairs. We need to get you out of there now, don't we?"
There was a pause, and he must have left the talk button on, because she could hear keys clacking. "We've got your location via radar, Arrow 8, and your nearest extraction point is a good distance away..."
"Feed it to me then..."
The controller nodded, hidden far from the woman's view, as he began to relay the information to her.

It stood silent, as the end of the "ceremony" approached. It was highly amused by this as well, but it seemed highly skilled in hiding any emotions at all. It blinked it's red reptilian eyes, as it watched the great elite depart. Plasma rifle in one hand, and the other held nothing, but a wrist object, which expanded it's orange energy shield. The red scales of it's arms and lower head were at that were not covered by metallic plates, and a thick skull cap in the shape of its fish-like head rest upon it. The grunts started arguing again, and the jackal couldn't stifle an expression of amusement. As it turned to follow behind the elite, one of the grunts seemed angry.
"What so funny, stupid thing!"
The jackal tried to ignore it.
"I talking to you!" And the grunt chucked some form of trash at it. The jackal faced it and glared, gesturing the grunt to "come and get some."
"I never liked you stupid things anyway!!" The grunt erupted into a charge, and the jackal put its shield forward, simply catching the charging alien on it. The sound of sparks, and something definitely getting electrocuted. The jackal made another amused expression, before walking off completely this time, leaving the smoking grunt twitching on the ground.

[B]

The boomer quickly made a passing until it found its friendly targets. The group of marines stood among the rubble with a teal spartan. The white glove quickly punched in some buttons then the man spoke out. "Hey teal guy. Emmett Howley reporting in." The radio sounded. "I'll be your pilot slash driver from here out. Heh. Also, if you could keep out of my way I'm quite good at infiltration." He said, complimenting himself. The parts he left out is if he doesn't have 9 inch armor platings surrounding him on foot then he's one to grow a bit, frantic. "Sorry I'm late." He mumbled. "Traffic was terrible!" Something Emmett didn't know was that there weren't many spartans, he didn't realize how honorable it was to be one and he's on the threshold of getting it taken away. The boomer came to a halt as it went into hover to land slowly into a flat patch of weeds close to where the others were.

The elite kept his scope fixated on the young woman. Then he saw something entering the building, it was a grunt and another elite, though this one was a rookie, judging by its armor. The charred elite switched his radio to the open channel where everyone within distance could here. "Watcher woman." The voice growled. "You have company." He warned. He didn't want his future target to fall now. The elite switched his radio back then turned from the view of the woman and began walking. Seeing a bit of disputes between a jackal and a grunt the elite quickly followed the jackal admiringly. "You.. What do you fight for?" The question announced in low monotone from the charred elite.

[Turn 360 and walk away]

"I'll be your pilot slash driver from here out. Heh. Also, if you could keep out of my way I'm quite good at infiltration." the crackly voice sounded through a radio.
"Roger. This is Senior Chief Petty Officer Matthew-zero-five-nine. We have you on our twelve. Come in low and slow. Follow north and at a point 50 meters from your current position, report back to me any, ANY, activity. I don't care if its a brute birthday party of a tumbleweed. Copy?"
Matthew waved the half of his original squad forward, and the group jogged down the deserted highway. all of them focusing on the same point the vibrant spartan was. The parking tower he ran the banshee into.
"Sorry If that banshee was your target, Emmett. The worm was pulling coward's tactics, So I itched that scratch."

[V]

Mei Hu nodded as the rest of the information was passed on to her. She had no reason to stay anymore. But...there was one more thing she'd need to take care of. Walking over to the pile of concrete, she started moving the lighter pieces aside, to expose Al's body. Luckily, his body was not very deep, and she reached it very quickly. She felt around his neck, feeling for his dogtags. "Here they are..." she said quietly, undoing the clasps. She studied them afterwards. "First Sergeant Alfred Borland." She closed her eyes and held them close, giving him a personal moment of silence. They were much closer than just a sniper pair. She snapped out of it when another radio transmission came in. "Watcher woman?" She knew that was her...but the voice was deep...and didn't sound anything at all like the controller she had spoken to. Besides, he would have addressed her as "Arrow 8". At first, she took it like a stalker threat, and with her free hand, took out her magnum. Before starting down. After several minutes, she found herself on the ground floor. A red armored elite was there alone...he looked wounded, clutching his side. His energy shield was malfunctioning, she could tell for it was flashing on and off. It annoyed him to the point of turning it off.
Mei Hu say this as a chance to get a better weapon, as she approached the elite.
"Don't retaliate and I'll spare you!" She shouted to him.
The elite looked up, a hand reaching for his covenant carbine he'd put down. The woman fired, getting him in the hand, forcing him to the ground. "I warned you..." She told the alien, before walking over and planting a kick upon his chest.
"Worthless human...have you no honor?"
"I'm about to put you out quickly, so silence!" And another shot. The elite was hit through the head. Reaching down for his carbine, she felt more comfortable. "Well...good thing it is only grunts down there."

The jackal faced the tall alien. It had respect for this species, as it answered in it's own language...which sounded like a series crones and growl. Perhaps the elite understood there language. If he did, he'd know that the jackal had responded. "I fight for the prophets...just as you should. Regret, Mercy, and Truth."

[B]

After listening to Matthew's whole radio in, Emmett was already starting to like this guy. "You got it.." He complied as the boomer set back up into the air and sped off to scout. "Oh and it's cool. Just don't forget, now you got yourself a back scratcher. Heh." He laughedas he surveyed the area. He couldn't find much, he reported a few small squads of grunts. He couldn't really get too close to where they were holding mainly for they began to fire at him and he was forced to pull back. "Aint nothin' much." He reported in. "Just a few squads securing locations... couldn't get close to their hideout though."

The elite seemed to let out a chuckle. "Whether the prophet's crackpot theories are correct or not, is that really what you fight for?" He said almost mockingly. "Isn't it much greater to fight just so that you can meet that certain person who can beat you? No, you don't fight for the prophets, you fight for yourself. But it's ok, everyone of us do." With that he tunrned and walked away.

[Turn 360 and walk away]

"You heard him, marines! Double time!" They quickened their pace. "Emmett. We will arrive momentarily. Scatter them with some burst fire. We'll mop up and head home." This being done, and a majority of the grunts punted out of existence, Matthew circled is finger in the air and the squad turned around. "My assignment's nearly over. I need an air escort for the POWs we my team freed. "Don't screw this up, and you're a free man. The infantry group was only 40 meters back, and the Pelican could take them after a short jog."
A handgun report echoed through the deserted stretch of intersection, and Matthew snapped 180 degrees just as fast.
"Who the hell was that?"
"No one sir."
"It was someone. Guns don't float around and fire themselves. (gratz if you see the reference)"
"It wasn't anyone here sir."
"You hear that, Emmett? or am I just crazy?"
they were passing some rubble that used to be a warthog.

[V]

A small troop of grunt wandered from the camp and into the parking garage. They were sent in there to make sure it was clear, just as the elite had been. There were six of them, and one had taken a Ghost. Perhaps this might a bit difficult. But the stopped near the entrance to take a rest, and the Ghost was dismounted. "This not fair. Why we gotta go in smelly human structure?"
"Because the elite gonna bonk us if we don't."
"I don't like being bonked..."
Mei Hu was pondering a way to sneak past them, but she noticed the grunts sniffing the air rapidly.
"I...I smell human!" One shouted.
"Battle stations!!!!" Another complied.
Her cover was blown, so she figured she might as well give a nice opening. She peeked over from behinf the support column she was taking cover behind, and let out three heated shots, well placed, since she was so used to aiming. Two hit one, a chest shot, and a head shot, killing that grunt, and the third another headshot, killing that grunt.
"There it is!!! Get it! Get it!" he grunt returned fire, and the woman got back around from the column. But allot of the shots from them collided with the wall across from the column.
She heard the whirring of a vehicle starting up, as one of the grunts mounted the Ghost. "I gonna get you, human!" The driver said. "Eat plasma!!!"
It pressed on of the triggers. But it was not plasma fire that met her. Instead, the boosters of the vehicle started up. The grunt activated the wrong switch. "...oh no!!!" The ghost shot forward...the grunt was flipped out.
Mei Hu took cover, as the driver free vehicle slammed into the wall, and watched as the grunts started to retreat. "Back to camp! Back to camp! We get an elite over here, yeah!!" But they'd be in for a nasty surprise when they returned.

Meanwhile, the female marine inspected the covenant vehicle. She knew how to operate these...but if she tried to go on those streets with it, she might not be recognized as a friendly, and get picked off by friendly sniper fire.

[Turn 360 and walk away]

This time not just a gunshot sounded. "Screw this." said Matthew into the radio. "I'm gonna check that out. Marines! Escort the POWs to this point," he pressed a few buttons and a red blip appeared in the eyepiece of each marine, "and wait for dust-off. Wait at that point for my return. One of you take this Wraith. It might be the difference between success and failure... Emmett, pick your poison." The squad split, and Matthew jumped the fence that separated the concrete hell from a dirt lot.
A jackal with a beam rifle stood, eye trained on the building he was destined. Looking at his plasma rifle, then at his smg, he decided on plan C. He sneaked up behind the sniper, and quickly covered the rifle's scope. The jackal stood, confused for a minute, before shifting his attention to what stood above him. A bone shattering blow was delivered to the skull of the reptilian adversary, causing him to crumple. There was a little purple shape in the door, and a bunch of little orange dots ran in the opposite direction.
"Emmett. If you wanna help that bad, I got some chew toys over here for you."
"Anyone here? I am Senior Chief Petty Officer Matthew-zero-five-nine. I can escort you to a military base if you wish!" Must not have been close enough.

[V]

Thinking speed was of the essence here, the female marine quickly mounted the nimble hovercraft. She studied it's panels, mostly the radar one. She could see four friendly units running opposite from her. Those must be the grunts; the ghost was still a covenant vehicle afterall, and it identified the humans as enemies. But what she also saw a red blip somewhere to the west of her. "An ally...I can get help!" She cheered, and steered the ghost to face him, standing up while it moved forward slowly so the friendly could see her. As the cyan figure came closer, she was surprised to see it was one of those super soldiers. "Wow..a spartan. We don't have one of those in our platoon..." she was marveled.
"I am Senior Chief Petty Officer Matthew-zero-five-nine. I can escort you to a military base if you wish!" He had said.
She raised her hand to salute, standing up straight. "First Sergeant Mei Hu Luo, sir!" She said obediently. "My partner and I were stations hear to take out crucial targets. We succeeded...but..." She put her hand and head down. "My sniper never made it out...he was killed by a banshee that crashed into the building." She trailed off, throwing out her personal vendetta. "I think the elite in the cockpit died. I wish that damn pilot was standing before me...I'd fill whichever bastard crashed that banshee into the building with .357, I don't care if it was one of those gorilla things." Little did she know she was talking to "that bastard".
Her rant was interrupted by a transmission from the controller. "Arrow 8, heads up!" He sounded frantic. "We have two big pings heading your way. They register as medium vehicles, but move too fast to be a Wraith, and are grounded, so they aren't Banshees. I see you met up with one of our Spartans...if he is experienced, he'll know what they are. We speculate the aliens sent them in to retake their little camp. They lost nearly every soldiers guarding it."
The transmission ended, and she looked up at the cyan clad man. "It's not true...is it?" She asked, knowing fulling well what these "pings" were. She'd never met them in combat...hell, they never attempted to engage them.

[Turn 360 and walk away]

"First Sergeant Mei Hu Luo, sir!"
Matthew saluted and they both dropped their hands.
"It's not true...is it?"
Matthew turned around and peered into the searing sun. The New Mombai Expressway glistened in the noon's heat, and sure enough, off in the distance a small dust cloud was being picked up.
"Damn it. You don't have any experience fighting these bastards, do you? Let's discuss your vendetta later." He brought his arm to his his hip and unclipped the SMG. Expertly pulling out the clip and counting bullets in a matter of seconds, he handed the firearm and some extra clips to Mei. "A few well placed shots with that thing," he pointed to the Carbine, "might be the most pleasant thing they've felt all day. get that ghost and follow me. I respect most alien scum as far as I... you could throw one, but these guys are different. If you aren't at the top of your game, you will get mauled to the point you wish you were dead."
Matthew sprinted out and hoped to hear the whirring of a ghost. a K.I.A. wouldn't look very good on his resume`.