.:. Block Test 2 .:.
The battle continues...
The team carries on their precarious mission, in the heart of the Block. They've been doing well so far, without suffering any casualties, after all thats what the Spartans are bred to do. Heavily armoured, capable of wielding any weapon, the Spartans are the Elites of the UNSC. Their mission this time, phase 1 to plant the bomb, phase 2 detonate it. Currently on phase 2, they are facing more resistant than expected. Yet they are trained to handle any situation, however unfavourable.
The rag-tag team of Spartans trudge down the hallway. Checking the map occasionally, Dal is worried that they are not on schedule. The huge resistant faced has been constantly slowing them down. He looks down at the small pocket on his thigh, griping it hard, worried. He felt a pat on his back, it was Mat. Knowing what their leader was worried about, Mat gave him a knod of assurance. Dal losen his grip on the pocket, and gave the command to move on.
A thundering voice rang over the hall, it was the prophet. The Spartans need not know alien to knwo what he was saying, and they began to run. Corridor after corridor, as they avoid every single detectable footstep. The map showed a huge room ahead and covenants are closing in. They had no choice but to proceed in. The room was circular, surrounded with doors with a spiral staircase in the middle leading to the next level. This leaves the Spartans in a very dangerous position. This means that they have very little cover, and have to fight every wave head on.
The door behind the Spartans sprang open, and the 1st wave came in. 3 green dots flashed on HUDs, and the Spartans obeyed their leader's command. They split into 2 groups, each covering a side of the door. The grunts that came through fell, without a chance to fire. An Elite came through, his shield flickering from the fire. Bio took a short burst at the Elite's hand, and the plasma rifle fell off. Defenceless, the Elite fell. Dal raised 2 fingers, and seperated them. The 2 teams followed suit and went to handle the following doors that open. Cartridge after cartridge were expended, as wave after wave fell. Suddenly, the doors on the 2nd level opened up, as elites started pouring out. Blue streams of plasma bolts and red needles fly from above. The Spartans took evasive action and jumped away, with some grunts dying in the cross-fire. Unfazed by the army, the Spartans all took cover under the stairs. The salvo of enemy fire left little chance for the Spartans to fight back. Dal reached for a HE grenade, poped open the pin and toss it up. It ricoheted off the walls and landed right on the 2nd floor. "Boom!" went the grenade, followed by a short silence. The team took this opportunity to fight back. They huddled beside each other, firing at each angle. The ammo count on their MA5Bs dropped rapidly, like their shields under the hostile fire. Their only chance to survive is that the Elites fall before their shields do. Mat's rifle went "click", as the last Elite fell to the ground. His shield was already down to 0. He took the opportunity to reload his rifle. He unloaded the cartridge from the rifle, allowing it to fall to the ground. Suddenly, he spotted a grunt poping out behind the fallen Elite. It released its plasma pistol, and the plasma bolt trailed towards Mat. Mat reached for his reload, but was too late. His armour gave way upon contact with the plasma bolt. He could hear his armour sizzle, he could not feel a thing, he fell. The green dot on Dal's radar faded. Dal used his left hand to draw his pistol, and finished off the grunt.
All 3 Spartans reloaded their rifles and took aim, waiting for more. But none came. Sensing safety, they lowered their weapons. Dal immediately went to check on Mat. There he was, lying on the ground. The metal plate on his chest had an uneven black hole, still smoking. Dal checked his pulse, nothing. He was disappointed, not with Mat but himself. Although Mat was careless in not checking his surroundings, it was Dal's duty to bring his team back home, and he had failed. Mat lied there, silently. The MJOLNIR armour revealing its scars from the battles the Mat and it had, a true sign of honour. Dal picked up Mat's weapon, redistributed his remaining supplies, a standard operating procedure, though how unpleasant, a must to survive. He bent down, whisperring into Mat's ear. He slot in a fresh cartridge into the rifle, and prepared for revenge.
Leaving their fallen comrade behind, the Spartans carried on their mission, unknown of what is going to happen to all of them.
Revealed on [9:06 PM]
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