grabbed a tray loading it up with an array of food. He found himself a spot at the same table as the other Spartan. Removing his helmet he tossledSitting at a table in the midst of the mess hall was Spartan-372,
Scorch as he liked to be called. His HAYABUSA helmet sat beside his tray as he spooned a portion of nutrient-rich gruel into his mouth. It wasn't the best tasting stuff in the world, but it sure beat the hell out of getting an upset stomach from eating all that greasy junk food. The less time he spent being sick in the restroom, meant the more time he spent kickin alien ass on the frontlines. And that was what it was all about in the end anyway.
Aaron walked into the mess hall and looked around seeing the other Spartan. He walked over and his hair a bit which was suffering from extreme helmet hair. He dove into his food like a starved animal and slowed only to chew any chunks and breath.
"Another success I take it, Scorp?"
Scorch asked him as he noted how much food the man was woofing down. "You really ought to try the gruel. If you can get past the taste, it works a whole lot better to recharge your body."
"Little riot control mission for the past two weeks with nothin' but field rations."
Aaron said in between bites. "I'm not worried about recharge as much as enjoyability. That and I'm getting ready to ship out again before the day is done." He said, his deep gravelly voice distorted a bit by the food in his mouth.
"Which is exactly why you should be recharging instead of putting all that junk in there man. I'm telling you, you're gonna wish you ate the gruel later."
Scorch told him with a smirk. He shook his head and finished off his gruel. "Anyway, you heard anything on when I'll be getting to get off this rock? I'm itching for a fight man."
"Your time will come."
Aaron said sage-like. "Just hope you don't get stuck with something like escorting monks through a barren desert. There's only so much chanting a man can take and if your armors climate control isn't up to date your not going to enjoy yourself."
"Bah. Just tell me when the Flood is back and I'll be happy. I'm telling you man, shit like that doesn't just go away."
Scorch told him confidently. They'd all read the chapters on the parasitic zombie creatures, but no one was as convinced as he was that they'd be back.
Derek slid into a seet across from Scorp and Scorch. "Hey...did you hear i got clearance to bring the spiked shot gun into battle now."He said reffering to the full stock shot gun which had a set of metal spikes sticking out of the bottom of the stock. With a pop and a hiss, his helemt slid off. he set it down behind his tray of gruel."So.. Howd the recent mission go?"He asked between spoonfuls of the tastless mash.
"I heard they were trying to get that shotgun out into the field."
Aaron said said as he pushed his empty tray away and wiped away a bit of food with his gloved hand. "And believe me", he said to Scorch, "You dont want the Flood to come back. Last time they were here the whole of Africa was glassed."
Derek nodded."Course back then...there was only one spartan facing them. Us three alone could take care of most of them..."He smiled his crooked smile. Such a cheery man he was, hard to believe that the scars creeping up his neck, ending just below his jaws, Where just one set of many that covered his body. To date he held the record of most non fatal battle wounds in a year, for any spartan of the new regime. He had a tendency to loose it sometimes, and charge into battle head first, with one of the many blades he carried. It had ended in over thirty stab wounds, fifty six slash and lacerations, twenty nine bullet holes, and most of the burns had all blurred into one joined pattern."Eithe
r way.. I'd be damned If before I became a flood infectee."
"No amount of Spartans could handle an infestation." Aaron said. "One spore can kill the entire population of a planet. A few Spartans can handle a small outbreak, like on a cruiser or a quarantined science station. But one of those bad boys hits a metropolis center and you can kiss this planet goodbye. The only reason 117 was able to do anything is cause he had a lot of help."
"Sounds to me like you're trying to belittle the Master Chief." Scorch pointed out. "I don't think that's a real good idea man. Seriously, what'll you do when he gets back?" He leaned in towards Aaron at that point. "Seriously man. We all know Spartans don't die, we're just MIA. He'll be back eventually, him and Cortana both. I'm tellin you man, they'll be back." He left that last part hanging as if to imply the Flood as well. He was a huge believer in conspiracy theories after all
"Spartans die." Aaron said angrily in response. "Don't ever think otherwise. Spartans are born, they train, they fight, and they die. You ever think your invincible and we will be putting you in the frozen graveyard in a pine box before you rake in your first hundred kills." Afraid he would get too angry he stood up and left the mess hall and headed for the Spartan Armory.
"See?" Tavish chuckled at the woman that he was half pushing forward with one arm; she was still shaking slightly from the sudden blast of cold she'd been caught in, but nodded slightly and grinned at him before moving off to the food. Spotting his other Spartans, Tavish moved off to greet them.
Derek nodded to Tavish, and then turned to Scorch."I don't think 117 died either...WE may die, but he doesn't." He said matter-of-factly."I mean look at what the books say he did. That's just what they know about." He spooned up the last of his mean...if you could call it that."Here comes Tavish."
"That guy needs to get out more. I know full well we die, seen plenty of it." Scorch told Derek, shaking his head lightly. "After everything we've read on 117, you'd think people would be a little more eager to believe that he isn't dead." He looked up when Derek mentioned Tavish and he nodded. "Find some more Sheilas didja?"
"You know me boys, never kiss and tell" Tavish said, the wink audible in his voice. He'd been out on his own mission for roughly a week now, and had arrived only a few days before he'd left for it. He'd been test driving a new set of vehicles for the UNSC, he'd volunteered to be a tester to see how the new things held up against the Spartans. Now that was done he was back on base "I saw a transport arrive before mine, who went out on a mission?"
Derek nodded, they all where familiar with Spartans dieing, all to well had they known the pain of losing a comrade. Some Spartans never made it out of training. "Scorp had just come back from a riot control gig some where..leaving again soon." He Said to Tavish."Im here all day...Haven't gotten any jobs lately.. might have something to do with the last one i was on..." He smiled sheepishly.
"You're grounded too, Priest? I didn't know that." Scorch said looking at him curiously. "Just what the bloody hell did you do? I guess they weren't too impressed with how much property damage I had done clearing out that Grunt infestation they sent me on last time. Little buggers burst like popcorn when you ignite those methane tanks of theirs."
Spook walked in, glanced an eye over the buffet and decided on a more varied array of food rather than the gruel. Pickings where slim to her liking so she snatched a sea foam colored bowl of gruel any way and headed straight for all the new shiny helmets. "This seat taken?" She asked taking a seat among them before she'd gotten permission.
"Well I guess it is now." Scorch said as she sat down. He took one glance at her strange armor and his eyes settled on the emblem. "Cute ghost. You some kinda spook or something?"
"Well, There where nearly a couple of civi casualties..but nothing serious.. they didntlike what i did with my hog..." Derek Chuckled and made a small explosion sound with mouth. He looked at the new comer, and eyed the ghost, and after a few moments he flipped off the ghost on her armor. He dropped his hand before looking up at the woman sitting across from him."Preist."He said and extended his hand.
Tavish turned slightly, there was something stirring in the back of his mind... This girl sitting right beside him, she just seemed so familiar. He scanned her slightly, staring at her emblem, then her chest, then just seemingly checking her out. "Well..." he said, a small laugh in his voice "if it isn't you... after all this time."
"You know her, Shaft?" Scorch asked, then looked at the woman. "I feel sorry for you then. The name's Scorch. It's a real shame you've met Shaft before you could meet a real man like myself."
Derek snorted loudly, and looked away, pretending to be occupied by something inside his helmet."that's not right..."He said and slipped his helmet on, checking the HUD. It said he had thirty rounds left, which was no good, because he had no gun. He flexed his hand, and the screen flickered for a second, and the ammo count went down, and his HUD returned to normal. "Hmm" He said as he slipped his helmet back off.
"Hrmmm..." Spook said looking at Shaft "Don't recognize your armor... nah, I don't know you." She turned to Scorch and offered her hand "The name's Spook actually." With a tray of uneaten food and gruel getting cold in front of her she decided to join them in their un-helmeted-ness. With the flip of a few latches her helmet came free and she pulled it off. Her skin was extremely pale and the messy patch of black hair on her head decided it wanted stick up as if attracted to a magnet, somewhere above her and to the right.
"Really? Well I'm touched, I mean I would have thought you would have at least remembered the helmet" Tavish leaned in closer for a minute, a thin sheet of (almost) bullet proof glass separating his grin from Spook. "I mean, there aren't many EVA units in the snipers are there? You'd think it would get them killed." Shrugging slightly Tavish pulled back and looked around at the food they were serving, thinking aloud "I'd kill for a steak."
"So go and kill yourself a cow?" Scorch offered him with a shrug. He pushed his empty tray aside and leaned back a little bit. There was no sense in going anywhere if he hasn't been called up for a mission in weeks.
"We're in the arctic, and I really can't be bothered to kill a cow right now" Tavish said, flexing his fingers in mid air as if strangling the creature "By the time I'm finished I wouldn't be hungry for steak anymore."
"Ask them to special order some then. We're Spartans, we need the best to be the best." Scorch offered him with a smug grin. He chuckled after he reflected on his own statement, there was some truth to that after all.
"Speak for yourself" Tavish grumbled, wrinkling his nose "I don't need to eat the best to be the best, I just really like steaks." He jerked his thumb towards himself, sitting back and crossing his arms.
"Nah man, I don't recognize you." Spook said catching her reflection in his helmet. "But if your a driver you'd better not get me shot with that shiny helmet of yours."
There was a feint click as the intercom switched on and a base wide page was made. "Attention all Spartans! Will Spartans-283, 313, 314, 369, and 372 report to the spartan command for briefing." The intercom clicks off
Derek's eyes grew wide. "Guess I'm not grounded after all." He said as he swept his helmet up from the table. "See ya guys there." He said as he dashed out towards spartan command, slipping his helmet on while he ran.
"Always during chow!" Spook complained and stuffed a banana in her helmet, she began scarfing down bites of the sea foam gruel as she got up from the table. She carried it with her a few feet before discarding the empty bowl on one of the tables on her way out the door.
"About time!" Scorch said as he slammed his helmet down, locking it into place as he stood up. He cracked his neck and made sure his systems were appearing correctly on his HUD before heading to spartan command
"Don't worry guys, I'll get you where you need to go" Tavish said, getting up as well and following after the two. He had a sneaking suspicion... She wasn't the kind of person to forget, he could tell, but he had a strange feeling that she probably resented him... for some reason.
One Week Later
Scorch entered after having dropped off his weaponry at the armory. He moved to the counter and got his usual gruel, still not understanding why nobody else seemed comfortable with eating the stuff. It gave your body everything it needed and nothing it didn't, it was perfect. Sure it didn't taste or look too nice, but what's the point in that? After finishing his replenishment meal, he got up and replaced his helmet, and headed back to the barracks
- Halo C.E. RPG
Stumble!