Blue team a halo story

Blue Team

As Fred steadily jogged, as the sunlight glinted off the green ceramics that formed the out side of his armor along with the black body glove, towards the two foot tall gray rock. Which might not even be a rock considering what Onyx had been made of, that Dr. Hasley was sitting on, he wondered if even she completely understood their situation. Sure she had been behind the training and outfitting of the Spartan-II’s but still though. After all they were stuck in a Dyson Sphere constructed by the Forerunners and there might not be a way to get out and make contact with whatever was left of the UNSC by now, which, according to Dr. Hasley, was very little at the most. Fred immediately banished the foolish thoughts from his mind. He was an officer now and he could not afford to let any doubts at all cloud his mind. He had his team to look after and he could not allow them to have any doubts at all. Doubts made you hesitant and made you overly cautious; they could cost you your team and your life.

As he reached the rock Dr. Hasley glanced up at him and smiled. “Back so soon?” she asked, pushing aside a few strands of graying hair that were blocking her vision, “I thought you were going to try and find some elevation where we could make camp.” Fred gently helped her off the rock and onto her old yet strong feet as he said, “I found one about three kilometers away, and I already radioed the others about it.”

Yes the “others.” Fred wasn’t referring to the other Sparatan-II’s but instead to the Spartan-III’s. They were young and hadn’t received the same kind of disciplined training that the Spartan-II’s had. The Spartan-III’s were meant to have been expendable troops who could attempt missions that had a high casualty rate and give the UNSC more time. They had been trained to depend on each other. Not be the one man wrecking balls the Spartan-II’s were.

As Fred and Dr. Hasley crested a low rise Fred saw that there were more of the Spartan-III’s than before. There could be only one explanation: the others had gotten team katana out of the Slipspace pods. Which also meant: they could now get out and reestablish the human race.

If there were any other humans left.

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Rarag wondered why he had such bad luck. He was stuck with crazy elite who thought that the prophets had actually betrayed the covenant, betrayed it! However, it was not his place to question why he was assigned to the elite; after all he was a lowly grunt with no hope of having any say in anything. Even though he wore the red armor of a higher ranking grunt he still could only command others of his short, methane breathing species. He would always have to do as the elites said or else. This one was also spec ops elite, and they kicked butt. Plus Elrend had an energy sword and one of those human weapons, and for a spec. ops elite he REALY kicked butt. Sadly Rarag was a lowly unnogoy (covenant word for grunt) and he could do nothing about the insane Sanheili (covenant name for elites). The only company he had beside the elite on this tiny ship that could be equated to one of those small human ships called "prowlers" since they were both fast, stealthy and small.... anyways his only company was the sole huragok (a covenant race that can fix pretty much anything and everything) and it didnt like to talk... at all since it coudnlt unless it used sign language. So Rarag spent his time polishing the plasma weapons and the shiny case with the human symbols "N.O.V.A"


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By now Fred was wondering what had really happened to that planet cracking N.O.V.A bomb they had tricked the covenant into taking, if it had gone off on the covenant homeworld by now then mankind might have a chance. He stared at the bright green field that was steadly growing to be large enough to fit through. "It seems that I am recieveng some sort of help from the other side, hopefully not the covenant trying to get in here again." Fred nodded in agreement, looking away since the field had started to make him feel vertigo like never before.


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Xytan 'Jar Wattinree was bored. Bored, bored, bored, BORED. To make matters worse he was stuck with an over nervous Unnogoy that did not seem to know his place. Xytan relaxed his tensed muscles in the chair in front of view screen as he contemplated how to get back to the covenant. They needed him of course, he was an Imperial Admiral and the only one in fact. It was for this reason the prophets had banished him to the edges of the Covenant for so long. He turned his attention to the data scrolling on the screen before him. His practiced eyes scanned it for any anomalies that would prevent him from returning to the Covenant. After only a few cycles Xytan's stomach began to growl and forutnantley there were plenty of thorn beasts on the ship.
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Corporal Alexson was in a load of trouble. Technically he was being assigned to test the new Mark VII mjolnir armor that was to be used by ODSTs as standard equipment. Sure some of its capablities that made life threating to anyone who wore but a spartan had been removed but it still meant he would NEVER EVER have a social life again. Corporal Alexson cried all the way to the facility

Dont you hate when they say:TO BE CONTINUED