Print 

Author Topic: A Spartan By Any Other Name - Chapter VIII - Awakening  (Read 2247 times)

Offline jokerman

  • Junior Poster
  • **
  • Posts: 185
  • Connecting.......
A Spartan By Any Other Name - Chapter VIII - Awakening
« on: September 27, 2009, 07:01:27 PM »
<boring stuff>
The following story is copyrighted material and all rights belong solely to the author.  Any reproduction or republication of any or all of this publication without the explicit and expressed written consent from the author is strictly forbidden.
</boring stuff>


Jumping up, weapon ready, the Spartan quickly checks his surroundings.  All he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the rain pelting his helmet.  Then he hears another scream of the bird, or what closely resembles a bird, flying high over the light emanating from this moon he has called home for too long.  The Screamer had woken him, yet again.

“Rain…  The Screamer…  Not Purgatory…” the Spartan said as he let out a sigh of relief.  The jungle was wet, always wet.  There was no sand here, no sun that could be seen, only swamp and rain.  Bugs were everywhere always making noise, clicking, buzzing, and crunching underfoot.  The screaming bird like creature, never without an insect meal, was constantly reminding the Spartan that he was an intruder on this remote jungle moon.  He sighed again.  Purgatory was light years away and ancient history.  But the nightmares of his first assignment would never stop.

The Spartan walked to the nearby downed Pelican and up the ramp.  Not much worked in this wreck anymore but at least the water filtration system was still online.  The crackling and flickering of the light above was no longer annoying to the Spartan, he had several months to get used to it.  At least he thought it had only been months.  Reaching up under his helmet, the Spartan unclipped the latches.  They hissed as they were released and equalized the pressure between his suit and the moon’s atmosphere.  The hot humid air hit his face and filled his lungs.  The smell of the gasses in the swamp and the muck filled his senses.  It stunk but he was happy to be alive to be able to smell it.  He had learned his lessons well on that day so long ago.

He stepped up to the makeshift sink he had built and turned the valve to let fresh filtered water in the basin.  He cupped his gloved hands the best he could and splashed his face.  Looking up to the piece of polished metal he placed over the sink, he saw his distorted face dripping and staring back at him.  In the reflection, he saw dark eyes that had seen too much, been too many places, and witnessed too many horrors.  He turned his head slightly to the left and right trying to get a better picture of himself.  His face was lightly scarred, here and there.  Grey hairs had woven themselves in with the dark hair at the temples.  

How long had it been since that day?  On so many planets, so many worlds, where no day is the same as an Earth day, no year the same as an Earth year, he had no idea.  With all the hibernation chambers and interstellar travel, there was no way to know how long it had actually been.  Were any of his friends from back home still alive?  Was anybody at all back on Earth still alive?  And what about the one that shot at his heart?  His fingers ran over the old and dirty dent in his chest plate as he wondered if she was still alive.  The corners of his mouth crept up slightly as he thought of the one time that he had made her smile.  And he thought of the veteran and the last salute he had ever had.  What about him?  

He turned to look at the garbled flashing coded transmission on a nearby console that he had received a few days before, asking for help on an armored transport mission.  The message was coded as coming from a group called, BFM.  The thought that someone was still out there gave him hope.  He left it on the screen as a reminder that he was not alone.  But it had been so long since he had seen another human being.  Would this soggy, bug-infested moon be his final resting place?  Not to go out with a bang but slowly rot by some alien fungal spore?

His thoughts were interrupted by the Covenant radio hanging in front of him on the cabin wall.  He started to make out alien voices.  The voices got stronger and clearer, more and more voices joined in.  Covenant ships were approaching!  He was safe, the dense vegetation and animal life would hide him from their sensors.  He wondered where they would land or if they would land at all.  These were the first ships in months; he knew too well that there might not be another chance to get off this moon.  His mind raced, how could he find them.  With such a large moon, it would be impossible to travel by foot through the swamps and jungle to their landing site in time.  They could land anywhere, even on the complete opposite side of this rock.  He needed them to come closer to him.  He looked around.  There was nothing on the Pelican that was salvageable and they would probably never find it through all the interference anyway.  He needed something to lure them closer, he needed bait, he needed...  His eyes stopped scanning the interior of the Pelican.  He slowly looked back at his reflection in the mirrored metal, took a deep breath, and clinched his teeth.

Still staring at himself in the metal, the Spartan picked up the radio and began to transmit.  He laughed.  No words, he just… laughed.  The Covenant knew the laugh.  The radio went silent.  In moments, the jungle shook and the Screamers took flight complaining at the sound of Covenant dropships exploding into the clouded atmosphere above.  With that, the Spartan dropped the radio and grabbed his battered helmet.  

Just as he was about to put it on, he saw an area on the inside of the base of the helmet.  It was a blank space where it looked as if it used to be home to a concave tag or plate of some sort, now long gone.  The blank and discolored area of the helmet had a single word scratched into its surface.  

The word read: ”Jokerman”.



Offline BFM_SüprM@ñ

  • BFM Admin
  • *
  • Posts: 1812
Re: A Spartan By Any Other Name - Chapter VIII - Awakening
« Reply #1 on: September 28, 2009, 10:43:21 PM »
:jawdrop:      Bravo, bravo. So, what's next? xD
Being a good racer in Halo isn't just about getting the best times. You have to know where your teammates and enemies are, and most of all... how to be crafty! XD -nods-

Oh... and "v.v" = sad face.






Props to Plixity for the first sig, Slayton for the Season XIII trophy sig, and Jane for the banner! Thx guys! ^.^


Applied for Recruitment: January 22nd, 2008
Received Vent: March 25th, 2008
Received Lil-tags: May 3rd, 2008
Resigned: May 15th, 2008
Re-Applied: June 16th, 2009
Re-Received Vent: July 25th 2009
Re-Received Lil-Tags: August 24th, 2009
Received Big Tags: October 5th, 2009
Promoted to Corporal: January 30, 2010
Promoted to Sergeant: April 19, 2010
Temp. Resigned: August 6, 2010
Returned: January 29, 2013

Offline Liam

  • Senior Poster
  • ****
  • Posts: 753
  • BOXISM!......... Resistance Is Futile!
Re: A Spartan By Any Other Name - Chapter VIII - Awakening
« Reply #2 on: September 29, 2009, 05:01:37 PM »
 :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: I needs more!!  :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool:


May 13, 09-Got Halo
Later May, 09- Stumbled onto BFM server, loved it
June 24. 09-Joined Forums
August 9th, 09-Applied to be PR
Sept. 22, 09-Earned Vent Access
Nov. 12, 09-Earned Lil Tags!
Mar. 26, 10-Earned Big Tags!
Jan. 3, 11-Stepped Down from BFM
© LiamFilm™

Offline Marine»

  • Regular Poster
  • ***
  • Posts: 400
  • support our troops!!!
Re: A Spartan By Any Other Name - Chapter VIII - Awakening
« Reply #3 on: September 29, 2009, 05:42:20 PM »
 :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: :drool: The first time i read this  xD this awesome i'll readup on the others l8er

Print