Sometimes I lay in my bunk and wonder what my life would have been like if the Marines hadn't come for me. Would I have been a Scientist? Or a computer specialist? No. Not even close. As I lay there, I imagine myself somewhere else. Somewhere I can call my own. Somewhere, where the horrors of the Covenant can't reach me. Even though I know they will come for me, I can still hope. I hate being a Spartan.
On this particular night, I was having another dreaming session. Being a Spartan left little time to one's self as we were always on demand for action. The Spartan below me, Aran, snored loudly. The other one on the other side of the small, cramped room was still awake and watching a holovid. I had thought she was a beautiful woman. Her black hair always caught my attention.
"Hey, when are our orders coming in?" she turned and asked. Her brown eyes shining in the light of the holo.
I turned, "I really don't know. The Old Man said they could come anytime."
"Oh. Well, I hope it's not long," she replied as she turned back to her vid. Aran turned over. His alarm clock went off. I glanced at the time, 23:45. I didn't get any sleep at all.
I jumped off my bunk, switched on my Mjolnir Mark V power armor, and climbed into it. I felt the armor's gel layer conform to my skin and its temperature cycle proceeded. The HUD flickered to life and I.D. signatures popped up from Aran and June. No other Spartans were on the ship.
I walked out of the room and saw some Orbital Drop Shock Troopers down the hall. They saw me and saluted. I loved being a Sergeant Major. The ODSTs were the bravest soldiers in the United Nations Space Command next to the Spartans.
I walked past them and felt the floor of our cruiser shake. The alarm claxons sounded off and the lights in the halls dimmed to emergency yellow. Then, the intercom crackled to life,
"All fireteams to the docking bays. Covenant boarding craft detected. Standby to repel borders."
For convenience, one of the many armories was next to our bunk room. I quickly ran inside and the weapon racks responded to my presence. They slowly came from the walls, opened up, and revealed weapons from the standard issue assault rifle to the heavy and fearsome rocket launcher. I grabbed a rifle and as much ammo as I could carry. I turned to make my way out of the armory when I saw a horde of Marines and ODSTs trying to get weapons. I made my way out of the swarm and headed toward the bridge.
My armor's metal boots clanging on the floor, muffled the sound of automatic weapon fire and the whining sound of plasma weapons. I turned a corner and saw a group of Grunts hiding behind a plasma shield. The small, apelike aliens shouted a series of grunts and barks before turning to face me with their weapons drawn and charging. I dove onto a small alcove and loaded my rifle just as a charged, green balls of energy shot passed my head. The blasts of energy caused my suits temperature gauge to spike briefly as they passed. I then jumped out and shot a series of bullets into the creatures and they fell to the floor as their methane tanks ruptured and ignited, causing one of them to spin like a top.
"Hey thanks, sir. We didn't know they had broken through our docking defenses yet," an ODST with a red armband came forward. He had been shot in the side, but with a glancing blow. He would make it. His squad fell in behind him. I had relaxed my guard only to hear the distinguishing "wort, wort, wort!" of an Elite nearby. Not good. I gave the hand sign for silence. The ODSTs crouched and waited for my signal. The Elite emerged from further down the hall. The very tall alien stood there while its blue armor shined in the dim light. It raised its plasma rifle just as I had started firing and the rest of the squad followed. 7.62mm rounds tore the Elite apart to leave a purple, black smear on the bulk head.
"They sure don't seem tough," an ODST said. A blue flash appeared and slagged half of his leg. He let out a blood curdling scream as he fell to the deck. The rest who were standing turned an fired. We fired until all of our ammo was spent in our clips. An Elite with a camoflauge generator collapsed and blood pooled instantly underneath the fallen body. The Marine with the slagged leg slumped against a wall.
I was not looking forward to the rest of the war. Did I ever tell you that I hate being a Spartan?
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