Halo: FUBAR Chapter 01 - Odd Man Out

Story by SniperSpartan-977 on SoFurry

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#1 of Halo: FUBAR


Author's Note: This is a non-canon pisstake of the Halo universe. But not just a pisstake of Halo, but also a rip on the way games pan out and develop, with a wee bit of rude stuff thrown in. Actually, if I turned this story into an actual game, it might actually kick ass... but many lawsuits would follow. Hmmmmm...

Excessive vulgar language and sexual content warning.

Chapter 01

[Odd Man Out]

> 2552, Olduvai, The Inner Colonies, Mission Time: 47 Seconds.

It had been a quiet day. Our patrol had been going smoothly. All we had to do was make it to the rendezvous point, then it would be a pelican straight back to base, hot food, hot shower and a hot cot for the next four weeks. But it was Sod's Law. Something always had to go wrong.

Darkness was all I could see. Over the heavy breathing echoing on my helmet faceplate, in the distance I could hear the rumble of thunder. My gut was tight, my head ached as I slowly regained consciousness, waking in a pitch black tomb. I felt awful. I felt worse than awful. It was like the morning after shore leave. Not just any old hangover. The mommy of all hangovers. My head felt like it was an over-ripe melon crushed under a MAC round fired from orbit. Every joint was in pain. Fire burned in my knotted stomach and up my gullet. Still, I managed to find strength.

My arms pushed as hard as they could. For a while it didn't budge... until finally a groan and a loud crumbling noise as the concrete block shifted. Cracks formed along the edge of the darkness, spilling feint, pale light filtered through dust on my visor. The rubble moved as I pushed harder, and kicked with my armoured knee. The rubble that had fallen on top of me fell away... and I fell after it.

The world span. The ground punched at me from all sides as I grunted loudly, tumbling like a rag-doll downhill. Until finally, with a dull thud, followed by a long pained wail I recognised as my own, I hit the ground face down.

"Moooooother-fuuuuuucker!" I wailed loudly, visor resting on the ground.

The ground was wet, I could feel the moisture on my fingers where my gloves were cut off at the thumb, index and middle fingers. Pressing my hands against the damp ground, I pushed myself up slightly, lifting my helmeted head. Through the visor of my helmet, the dark street seemed to light up slightly. Angry storm clouds swirled above, and the street was momentarily lit up in a flicker as a fork of lightening connected with the distant skyline. A second or so later, the thunder rumbled again... but this time it was followed by the noise of distant battle. Cracks of gunfire, and the growl of explosions rippled across the human city.

Forcing myself up on one knee, I took a better look around. Behind me was a solid wall of the parking complex. Stretched out before me was a pedestrian plaza lined with shuttered and boarded up stores. I could only imagine what this place used to be like, busy with people, bustling with shoppers and school children on their lunch breaks. That was all gone now. What was left was another gloomy street in city with a crumbling economy.

"Seth!" a loud voice cried somewhere above me. "Seth, are you okay?"

On my feet now, I turned around and looked up. A hundred feet or so above me, on the top floor of the cracked and partially collapsed parking complex I saw movement. A helmet identical to the one I wore bobbed over the guard rail and looked down at me. The headgear hid the face of the user behind an angular grey visor, and like the rest of our armour, the helmets were painted matte black, under which we wore black camouflage fatigues. Generally the ODST armour was considered airtight, but like with every EVA armour, take one straight hit of enemy fire and you'd better be praying. It didn't take much to compromise the armour's integrity.

My visor's integral friend or foe system immediately identified the other trooper as my NCO, Sergeant Boone, outlining him in green.

"Jesus, kid!" the sergeant called out with relief. "I thought you were a goner! That was one hell of a fall! Are you okay?"

I nodded my sore head, raising my hand and giving a thumbs up. "Yeah, I'm good." I glanced down, feeling a prickle and saw a deep gash in my arm, blood seeping into my sleeve under my right shoulder pad. It wasn't too bad. I'd be able to keep my arm at least.

"Okay, we're cut off from each other!" Boone observed, looking down the street I was on. "Keep moving down this plaza. I'll cover you from the high ground! The rally-point is on the far northern edge of the city! We should get there fast and find out what the hell is going on!"

I turned and started walking, limping slightly for the first few paces before my muscles eased out. Reaching down, I felt my hand close around the grip of my M7S submachine gun. Tugging it out of the holster I looked down at my primary weapon. A compact, side fed weapon fitted with a long silencer on the muzzle and a holo-red dot sight on top. I quickly pulled out the front grip, then extended the stock with a sharp tug before shouldering the compact weapon.

My radio crackled in my ear for a moment. "Hey, Seth! You're radio's working?" it was Boone, and he didn't even wait for a reply. "Good. I didn't think either of us would survive that explosion. Those plasma bombs came out of nowhere. There must be covenant ships in orbit. I hope the orbital defence grid holds out. Either way, I guess it's true. ODST are the toughest sons of a bitches in the galaxy. Spartans don't have shit on us." The sergeant chuckled, but I wasn't too sure that statement was true. The key factor that had kept me alive for this long has been pure luck. I wasn't suffering any delusions of grandeur about how great a soldier I was. Truth of the matter was, I was a fairly average soldier. I'd killed my fair share of aliens, alone and with a team. I've survived hot drops, CQC situations, hand to hand combat with jackals and even close encounters with elites. But luck had been a dominant factor that had kept me breathing for so long.

"We should rendezvous at the Tripoli subway station." Boone continued over the radio. "It's sheltered and on the way to the rally point. I'll follow you in and guide you from the high ground... oh, shit, get into that alcove."

Looking left, I saw the exact one Boone indicated, a small enough alcove, hidden in the shadows.

"Hold LB to sprint. You can move very fast for short bursts, excellent for moving out of the line of fire, or from cover to cover." Boone announced.

"W... what?" I whispered. None of what he just said made sense. What the fuck was 'LB' and why the hell did I need to be told how to sprint. I knew all that already. What was going on?

That was when I saw movement at the end of the street. Knowing very well I was a sitting duck out in the open, I sprinted to the alcove, one foot in front of the other as fast as possible while keeping my head down. Dropping to one knee and sliding into the shadow of the porch to someone's apartment, I leaned sideways, poking the top half of my helmet around the corner so I could just about see. And what I saw was something I hated.

"Dog patrol." Boone whispered. "Where the fuck did these guys come from?"

"Wait, what?" I muttered, wondering if I'd heard that right. There were no dogs. I wasn't looking at dogs. The things I hated were aliens.

Yes, that's right, aliens. Don't call me a xenophobe. You'd hate aliens too if they were part of a cult-like congregation whose sole purpose is to hunt down every human in the galaxy and eradicate us. That is what the Covenant did. The Covenant were a congregation of races, bound by the strong religious belief that our destruction was the will of their Gods, and they were the instrument of our demise.

The particular aliens I saw reminded me of an illegitimate cross between a dog and a monkey. Maybe that's what Boone meant by calling them dogs. Or maybe I really hadn't heard him right. These aliens were classified as grunts, the primary workforce of the Covenant military. These little methane breathing guys were stubby, bow legged with un-proportionally long arms and were worse soldiers that I was. If not commanded by a field commander, they were cowardly, un-organised, terrible shots and un-disciplined. They were also very weak. Even a minor breach in their orange environment suits could cause death, or because the suit was full of methane, cause an explosion. They lugged large pyramid-like tanks on their backs, which also affected their mobility.

There were four of them. The lead grunt moved slowly and cautiously, growling and chattering like some kind of monkey-dog, cold gasses hissing from the vents in his re-breather.

As they walked, the grunts talked among themselves. What really surprised me was the fact they spoke in English.

"Stoopid hoomans." The one in the middle back chattered in a high pitched voice. "They killed Flip-Yap."

"Flip-Yap?" the one in front of him squealed. "That was Yip-Yap."

"Don't tell me I don't know Flip-Yap from Yip-Yap!" the first yelled. "We went to nipple academy together. And now he's dead!"

"Would you all shut up!" the lead grunt barked over his shoulder. "Every day it's the same old shit from you two! 'They killed Flip-Yap!' 'We went to nipple academy!' Change the fucking record and get some new dialogue! And besides, how the fuck are you supposed to tell all of us apart! We look the same! Hell, we even all sound the same!"

I cocked an eyebrow. This was different.

"Alright, kid. Keep your head low. I've got these guys." Boone said quietly on the comms. "Remember, press the left thumbstick to crouch. Crouching will lower you behind cover and out of enemy fire, and also make you harder to spot when hiding or moving around."

"What the fuck?" I whispered back. Maybe I had hit my head harder than I thought. "What are you talking about?"

A heartbeat later the grunt at the back of the patrol line dropped to the ground. I blinked hard, not even seeing the tracer of the bullet the sergeant had put clean through the grunt's head, his sniper rifle's silencer making a whisper of the gunshot. As the little alien fell to the ground there was a splatter of fluorescent blue blood that glowed brightly in the dark. The grunt's re-breather fell broken to the ground. Two more shots scythed through the air. Adjusting the angle of my gaze I spotted the feint white trails the sniper rounds left in the air as they sliced through the grunts. Two more headshots.

The last suddenly realised and whirled around, letting out a short squeal... a fourth tracer cut straight through the final grunt's head, sending the alien's re-breather spinning across the ground, stained with fluorescent blood and landing at my feet.

"Beautiful." Boone said. "Okay, kid. You're clear. Move on up."

Rising to my feet, I moved on, stepping over the grunts, making double sure they were dead. Who was I kidding? Of course they were dead. A 14.5 millimetre armour piercing round to the head would do that to pretty much anything.

"Be careful about picking up enemy weapons, kid." Boone suddenly said as I cleared the cluster of dead aliens. "Unsuppressed weaponry will draw a lot of attention."

"I..." I paused, wondering what Boone thought I was doing. I didn't even stop moving to stoop over one of the plasma pistols the grunts dropped. "I wasn't... I don't... I..."

"Patch yourself up with that Optican centre over there." Boone pointed out interrupting my thoughts. "Better be ready for anything. We could have a fight coming up."

I spotted it as I passed. A small kiosk built in to the wall. Moving closer, it sensed my presence and popped out a little can of a medical substance I knew as biofoam. The stuff was miracle cure. It soothed burns, patched up bullet holes. It did the works. Grabbing the can out of the metal dispenser, I broke off the safety nozzle, aimed it directly under the armour plate into my wound and squeezed the pressure valve. Immediately it sprayed a light pinkish disinfecting foam through the tear in my armour and into the gash. It stung like a mother fucker, but it was worth it. Now I'd be safe from infection, and wouldn't run risk of the wound re-opening or tearing further. And within a few days it'd be as if I'd never been hurt. Like I said, miracle cure.

"Remember, when you get shot, take cover to recover your stamina." Boone continued over the comms, causing me to pause and really question if I was hearing everything correctly.

"Er... no, sarge." I said. "If I get shot... I die."

"When your health is low, visit an Optican kiosk to restore your health bar." Boone went on.

I opened my mouth, but was too confused to say anything for a while. What the hell was going on? "Health bar? Sarge, are you okay? You're starting to scare me."

"Okay, looks like you're all patched up." Boone said. "Let's keep moving."

Disregarding everything that had just happened, I moved on to where the plaza took a sudden ninety degree turn to the left. I was looking at an uphill battle. Each sloping stairway ended after a few feet, gave way to an open plaza, then rose another couple of steps, and so on, and so forth. The open area was littered with stone columns containing potted plants, and pieces of modern art. For example, directly in front of me was a hunk of twisted metal supposed to portray the inner conflict of the degenerative human condition... but to be entirely honest with you it just looked like a twisted hunk of metal to me.

"You've got movement up ahead." Boone informed. "Press the back button to bring up your tactical map. If the spy satellite has a clear line of sight you can zoom into the area ahead of you and mark concealed enemy positions for highlight on your HUD."

Crouching behind the pieces of art I started questioning my sanity. I was definitely not hearing anything right anymore. Back button? On the fly tutorials? "What makes you think I forgot everything I was taught in boot camp?" I said out loud. "Sarge, I... I can't... I... I just... ah... I don't know what's going on! Look, whatever it is you're smoking, would you cut it out?"

There was a moment silence before Boone came back. "Two man patrol, coming closer."

Leaning sideways, I saw there was indeed a two man patrol coming for me. They had no idea where I was, and were set to walk straight past me. The jackals were bigger than grunts, but not by much. There were more proportioned, walked upright and looked kind of like a cross between a bird and a lizard. They were clad in very little armour, just some high tech looking plates on their hips, shoulders and over their torso. Out the back of their heads they had handfuls of brightly coloured quills ending in sharp points. Over their beak like muzzles they wore some kind of helmet, hiding their eyes behind a monocular kind of visor that emitted a feint blue glow. These jackals were different however from the normal jackals I was used to running into however. These seemed more slender... feminine... with breasts! I swear to god, they had sweater puppies hidden under those chest plates, carved to fit their slender physique. And even if these jackals were females, why would an avian reptile require mammaries? Was it aesthetic? Was I losing my mind?

It didn't seem to matter as Sergeant Boone spoke up on the comms again. "Incoming kid. Take one out quietly, I'll take the other."

The jackals seemed to spontaneously change direction and walk right towards me, their sleek pulse carbines held in a relaxed fashion. It didn't seem like I had any other choice. Gripping my SMG by the barrel and the stock, I got ready in a low pouncing stance. The moment the closest jackal walked past, I pounced her.

My submachine gun wrapped around her throat as I drove my knee in the small of the alien's back, pulling sharply and twisting as hard as I could. Several hundreds of pounds of pressure forced the jackal's throat shut, preventing her from screeching out loud. And in one deft move, and a sickening pop, the jackal dropped limply to the ground, dead. The second followed suit as Boone shot her through the head, like he did the grunts earlier.

Ducking back down, I hid behind the sculpture again, listening to see if any other Covenant in the area had noticed the struggle... there was nothing for a while.

"Beautiful." Boone suddenly said over the radio, causing me to jolt, before sighing explosively realising it was only the sergeant. "Pressing B will perform a melee attack. Holding the button down will initiate an assassination sequence."

I shook my head, rubbing my visor with one hand. "Seriously sarge," I replied on the radio. "If you don't stop that I'm going to stop taking you seriously."

"A melee attack will instantly kill an enemy from behind." Boone continued. "Try it on that brute over there."

Lifting my head I saw a brute march up to the top of the next flight of stairs and halt with its back to me. Brutes were massive gorilla-like aliens, with shaggy fur, massive bulging muscles and killing claws on their hands and huge pointy teeth. So naturally when Boone told me to walk up and smack it in the back of the head with my submachine gun my reply had to be: "Get the fuck out of town."

And that is exactly what I told him. "Get the fuck out of town. I'm not going up there and smacking a brute in the ass. It would... you know... kill me."

"Go ahead kid." Boone urged. "I've got a good position to cover your back from here."

"I-don't-care." I replied slowly, articulating ever word. "I wanna live."

"C'mon trooper!" Boone barked now. "Melee that brute!"

I sighed, lifting my head again to see the brute hadn't moved. This one, like the jackals, seemed more slender and deft. But it was still an eight foot killing machine with rudimentary armoured plates wrapped around vital points, from the shoulders, down to the feet.

"Look, that fuzzy guy isn't even looking at me, I could sneak around. Or you could snipe him." I reasoned.

"C'mon trooper!" Boone barked as if he was a recording playing over again. "Melee that brute!"

Standing and creeping very quietly around the sculpture I used for cover, I took a deep breath and held it. Obviously there was no other way out of this. I just had to do as I was told. Practically walking on the edges of my heels so I wouldn't make any noise as I closed in, I quietly crept right up to the beast, only aware of the black furred monstrosity's size now. It was huge and broad, and could crush me with one fist. How the fuck was one smack with the butt of my weapon supposed to kill it? Never the less I raised my weapon in two hands, high above my head, swung the stock down and...

The SMG made a loud clang as it hit the armoured plate on the brute's lower back. The creature didn't even flinch. I on the other hand had every bone in my body jumbled. Stunned and unable to move for a long time, I shook with the recoil of the blow I threw.

I heard a series of thuds as the heavy creature turned around on the spot and looked down at me through blood red eyes. This brute was different. Like the jackals, he was actually a she. Again, I could tell by the chest plate moulded around her breasts, and by the deft, slender figure. This however, was slightly more believable though. I could imagine brutes were mammals, so a female having breasts made sense. Breasts on a lizard-bird... it just defied logic.

But the brute's honkers weren't what I was focusing on as I regained motor functions. It was the hand darting for me.

The brute wrapped her claw around my chest plate, the impact of the blow throwing me back a few steps and driving the wind right out of my lungs. Keeping her grip tight, despite my kicking and squirming, she lifted me clean off my feet with one hand. I mustn't have weighed more than a sack of kittens to her. And by the rage in her eyes, I could tell she was going to drop me like one too.

But I couldn't blame her at the same time. I'd be pretty pissed if a guy came up behind me and smacked me in the ass with his rifle... okay, that would actually be a little bit gay, but you get what I mean, right?

"Oh, great. Now I'm dead." I exclaimed, knowing this would happen.

Boone's voice came back on the radio. "Quickly mash the action button to break free of her grip, kid!"

"Action button?" I yelled, kicking and squirming, one hand gripping the brute's wrist, the other trying not to drop my submachine gun. "Where the fuck do you see and action button?" I was at the point of hysterics. And I had every right, since my life was practically flashing before my visor.

"Break free of her grip, kid!" Boone yelled again.

"You have a sniper rifle, save me!" I cried desperately.

"You have to break free!"

"No, you just have to save me!"

It was too little too late. The brute growled a deep, throaty snarl, then swung me around and tossed me into the air. The ground soared past as I looked down, arcing headfirst back down to the earth. I swung my arms and legs, tried to change my heading, alter my balance. But no matter how hard I tried, I still hit the ground head first. Yes it hurt. Yes I was dazed. But that wasn't the worst of it.

Miss brute had a good aim. And when she tossed me she aimed to do the most damage. So when she tossed me, she aimed me for the entrance to the subway tunnels. And miss brute had an exceptionally good aim. When I hit the ground, the pain-ride wasn't over, because I tumbled down three fucking flights of fucking stairs.

The world spiralled and tumbled around me in a blur of colour, punching me from all sides. Sharp edges stabbed at me as I tumbled down, and down, and down... I left the ground once or twice, flying head over heels, before hitting the ground twice as hard again, tumbling over the pointed edges of the steps again... until finally I hit a bone jarring halt.

Opening my eyes, I waited for the red to clear from my vision and looked down, or rather up the stairs. I couldn't tell anymore. The whole world was upside down. My legs were propped up against the shutter gate at the bottom of the stairway. Moaning loudly, I took a deep breath. The mission had only started and so far I'd fallen down two incredibly high heights.

"Worst... mission... ever..." I managed to groan.

And then a silhouette stood against the dark sky at the top of the stairs. The brute was back...

A tracer sliced straight through her head this time, and in the back of my mind I thought; "see, wasn't that easy? All this pain could have been avoided if Boone just..."

I didn't get to finish the thought as the dead, 230 kilo brute tumbled down the stairway like a ragdoll cannon ball aimed directly at my face.

"Oh, no!" I exclaimed, holding my hands, as if trying to push the creature off trajectory. "No, no, nononono!"

The brute landed right on top of me. The force of the landing broke the steel shutters off their tracks and threw us both through on the slick platform tiles. All the air was forced out of my lungs. I almost felt my last meal come back up. Every inch of my body was in pain. My vision flashed red again.

When I finally got my senses back, I realised the dead brute was still lying on top of me. And she was a heavy bitch.

"Are you okay, kid?" Came Boone's voice.

"No." Came my muffled reply.

"Good." Boone said, obviously ignoring everything I was saying. "This isn't going well, kid. We're moving too slowly."

"Oh, really, you think?" Heaving with all my strength, I managed to slide the alien's heavy corpse off of me and sit up. Looking around, I found myself on the dark subway platform. The lights were out, and the only light was coming from outside, leaving a puddle of pale light on the floor where I sat. To my left was my M7S. With a painful groan I reached over and grabbed it before climbing to my feet.

"That subway tunnel will take you straight to Tripoli Station. Take it. I'll meet you on the next platform." Boone informed.

I sighed. "No, seriously, you think that's a good idea? The mission's only just started, and already I've been blown up, subjected to conditions that are making me think I'm nuts, made me smack a brute in the ass, been thrown down three flights of stairs and had a dead brute land on top of me. What's next? I'll be raped by a hive of drones?"

"The tunnels will be clear of all hostiles."

I immediately reconsidered. "You know what? That sounds like a fantastic idea." I started walking up to the platform edge.

"Don't forget to use your VISR light amp." Boone reminded. "You can activate it any time by pressing..."

I cut him off there, reaching under my chin and pressing a switch on my helmet. "Yes, I know how to use my equipment, thanks sarge. Unlike you, I didn't take my morning dose of stupid."

Reaching the edge of the platform illuminated by my helmet's low light module, I crouched down, placed one hand on the floor and hopped off the edge, lowering myself down onto the tracks. Immediately I felt my stomach sink when my armoured boots splashed into knee deep water. The tunnels were flooded, and pretty deep at the looks of it. Filth floated around my knees and something smelled foul. Raw sewage, smelling like rotten eggs mixed with a fart, then the love child of said eggs and fart puking, a dog eating the puke then shitting it out... the tunnel smelled like that turd's turd.

"When the Covenant invasion began, the floodgates were the first things to fail. Most of the underground sewer system flooded and overflowed into the subway." Boone informed. "You should be fine though."

"I fucking hate you, sarge." I told the NCO with some bitterness, shouldering my SMG and splashing down into the dark tunnel. "Being in the shit is supposed to be a figure of speech."

"Remember," the sergeant continuing as if he hadn't heard me. "Our objective is the rally-point on the northern edge of the city. I'll try to link up with the bee-net. Find out where all these Covenant came from all of a sudden."

My VISR light amp mode lit up most of the dark corners. The outer edges of my peripheral vision remained dark. Most of the light, like a torch beam, was focused down the centre of my vision. Still, it was better than pure darkness. The deeper I went into the tunnel though, the deeper the water got. Eventually, it reached up to my waist, and I was not liking where some of the terrain was going. Now and then I'd step in a deep hole. I'd find sections of tunnel collapsed. Eventually the rails sloped down further and the water was up to my chest. My weapons manual told me my SMG was waterproof, which gave me a boost of confidence... which immediately vanished when I reached a total cave in.

The tunnel roof had collapsed completely, blocking the entire tunnel with rubble.

"Oh, fan-fucking-tastic." I groaned before clicking on my radio. "Sarge, you read me?"

No reply. Only static. Even better. Not only was my way through blocked, the mentally challenged NCO responsible for my safe being was out of reach, and therefore couldn't tell me to press random, non-existent buttons to get through this obstacle.

With a sigh, I submerged my M7S and anchored it to my hip, giving it a light tug to make sure it was secure. Taking a series of long breaths, I prepared myself for a dive. My suit was pressurised and had its own air supply, but I didn't know how little time I would have underwater with a breached suit, and I didn't know how long this dive would last. Conserving air would be a good idea.

On my third breath I held it in, then dove under headfirst and kicked hard a few times, before drifting smoothly across the bottom of this miniature pool. Everything instantly grew darker, but shapes appeared more pronounced. My eyes observed the uneven edges of the collapsed rubble... until I saw a gap. It was fairly narrow, but could allow a man to swim through. I kicked again and drifted to it, grabbing the edge and checking my HUD as I exhaled. Bubbles vented from the side of my faceplate. My O2 meter dropped a quarter as I took another couple of breaths, before holding on the third again and pulling myself through the gap with a gentle kick of my legs. Smoothly I glode through the hole and emerged the other side of the rubble, ever so gently drifting back to the surface. Spreading my arms, I kicked lightly to slow down, exhaling as I surfaced.

Very quietly and slowly, my helmet broke the surface and I floated for a while, looking around the next section of tunnel. It seemed to slope upward, out of the water and beyond. Nothing else to be seen thought the dark, distorted shimmers. Slowly I swam forward until my feet touched the ground and waded out of the cool water. Soon I was back on dry ground, water dripping from my matte black armour, crunching over the gravel between the tracks as I moved uphill. It seemed to be clear for the rest of the route. Everything seemed to be getting better.

I should not have thought that.

A flutter caught my attention and I stopped, my boots crunching on the gravel. Another flutter. I listened intently. Nothing but silence.

Slowly I lifted my right foot, moved it forward and put it down. The gravel crunched. A flutter.

The flutter sounded like wings. It was familiar. Eerily familiar, and for a long time I couldn't place it, until I thought of the Centauri 9 mission a few years ago, where I had accompanied a group of marines into a bunker to clear it of hostiles. We had to clear it out of... no... oh, God, no...

I slowly shifted my gaze upward to the ceiling, and felt my heart stop when I saw them. A clean dozen of them, hanging from the ceiling, their wings fluttering gently every so often. Giant... bugs for lack of better description.

"Buggers." I whispered softly. "I fucking hate buggers."

Officially, we called this Covenant species 'drones.' They were bipedal, insectoids with sleek oval heads, three digit talons on each hand, an extra quad of short, delicate arms on their abdomen and barbs on their fore-arms. All these drones were asleep, their large yellow eyes shut tight, but their wings were parting and fluttering every so often, as if it was an automatic system which kept them balanced in their upside down position.

These drones, like the jackals and brute were different as well. Again, they were females, and these girls were really taking the cake. The oddities in their anatomy was actually something to be angry about. It made no sense. They looked bipedal, like any other human. They had a slender figure covered entirely in a green and black tint exo-skeleton. The shape followed that of a slim woman. Wide hips, narrow waist and a pronounced chest, leading into a sleek neck to which their head was attached. They were insects... with boobs. And if that didn't not make any sense, I dunno what did make sense.

Slowly I reached down to my hip, closed my fingers over my submachine gun and pulled it out of the holster with a soft click. It was hardly audible... but apparently not hardly audible enough.

The nearest drone's eyes fluttered open and her head darted left and right, before she looked 'up' relative to her position and looked me in the visor. Immediately the creature let out a screech and woke her sisters. A dozen sets of wings fluttered as all the pairs of yellow eyes flicked open and connected with me, a lone ODST in a tunnel full of hungry insects.

"Awww, nuts."

I snapped up the weapon and fired. The M7S burped out caseless rounds and sliced down the closest drone, splattering sticky green goo across the ceiling. The bug dropped from her perch and hit the ground beside my with a thud as I swivelled, weapon shouldered, and fired another burst. This one missed as the next drone dropped from the ceiling. I tracked her and fired another sustained burst. These rounds hit home and punched through the exo-skeleton, killing the creature. As the next dead drone rolled over, squirming, the others started circling around me. I'm not sure why drones did this. They had an affinity for circling around you, like an annoying fly that won't go away no matter how much you swat at it. If they carried weapons, they might fire a few shots on the fly. If they were unarmed... well, they didn't do anything. And even if there were only one or two, they'd follow a pattern of buzzing around your head.

I whirled around, firing at them until the magazine ran dry. Five more fell to the ground, puking green ooze out of several bullet holes in their bodies. Five left... and they didn't look happy.

I flicked the empty magazine out of my gun, fumbling for one of the full ones in the pouches on my belt. I couldn't get the clasp open, and in my moment of fumbling one of the drones darted forward and lashed out with her hand. Her strike swiped the gun right out of my hand, sending it across the tunnel, landing loudly in front of a metal door leading to a maintenance room. It was only when the weapon clattered to the ground I looked at my hand and realised I wasn't holding the weapon any more.

"Whoa." I muttered before crying out louder, ducking away as another drone made a lunge for me. "Whoa! Ow!" I landed hard on my ass, crawling back as fast as I could as a drone landed at my feet on all fours and leaned closer, screeching loudly.

Rolling over, I scrambled to my feet and dashed towards where my weapon landed. As I reached it however, I heard a particularly loud screech. Looking left as my fingers brushed the handle of the SMG, all I saw was a streak of red as a drone crashed headlong into me, full flight.

The force threw us both through the metal door into the brightly lit maintenance room. This room must have been running off a separate generator, because the bulb above us was glowing brightly, causing my VISR light amp to automatically shut off. For a moment the bright light blinded me.

Then I landed hard on my back and felt weight pin me down, forcing my eyes open. I found myself looking directly at a drone, this one was different. She had a pair of long antennae sticking out the top of her head, she was bigger than the others, at least three feet taller, she had a larger bust and a crimson exo-skeleton. No doubt this was their leader.

She leaned closer, holding my arms down with her claws and straddling my waist, she moved her face close to my visor and chattered so my internal audio software could translate.

"You killed my sisters." The drone snarled in a low tone.

"And what are you, big sister?" I snapped, struggling against her grip to no prevail.

"I am Nezz, queen of this hive." The red drone hissed. I looked past her and saw the other five green drones land and walk inside. The last one in gently swung the door shut. All eyes were fixed on the human.

"Alright, your highness." I tried sounding polite, but I couldn't quite get the hate for drones out of my voice. This was why I hated drones. They never fought fair. They always had to outnumber you, or couldn't keep their feet on the floor like normal enemies. "I apologise. But you attacked first."

"Your destruction is the will of our gods." Nezz hissed. "And..."

"And we are their instrument. Yadda-yadda-yadda." I said with her in a bored tone. "Been there, heard that. Pull the other one, it comes off."

"We could kill you." The queen said. "But we could also let you live to carry a message to any other humans that may be on this planet still. Do not fuck with Queen Nezz's hive!" she hissed before straightening up again and making a cooing noise to her minions. "Nezz's hive fucks you."

Immediately the other drones darted forward and pinned down my arms and legs so I couldn't move, leaving the queen free to do whatever she wanted. And that didn't exactly sit very well with me. She rocked backwards, her crotch rubbing against my groin plate now, her talons raking the paint off my chest armour, leaving six thin silver lines among the black.

"My hive has not had the pleasure of a male in a long time." The queen hissed, leaning forward, close to my visor again. "I will enjoy this, very much."

"Oh, shit!" I cried, only able to imagine what they were about to do to me. They couldn't... could they?

The drone on my left straddled my hand, clamping her hands on my shoulder. Cooing and closing her eyes, the green drone started rubbing her thighs over my fingers. I couldn't do anything but struggle in vain as their deceptively powerful arms held me down. The drone on my right did the same. My legs kicked as the other two stepped out of the way. They knelt beside their queen, hands roaming over their own bodies, nails raking their exo-skeletons.

Their hands roamed, lower and lower until they touched their own private areas between their legs. The drone on my left hand was getting wilder, humping and grinding harder and faster, moaning louder now. That was when I felt something wet on my fingers. She pressed her crotch tighter on my gloved hand, and I felt a thick, mucus like liquid pour over my fingers, making them slick as the alien rubbed her soft flesh over me.

The same was happening on my right hand. The drones pleasuring themselves moaned harder as I lifted my head to see. One of them spread her wet lips, cooing and chirping with delight, head thrown back. I was staring into the soft green tinted flesh now as her fingers pumped in and out of herself, spreading her thick juices all over her fingers.

Suddenly I felt a warmth slip over my right index finger and turned to look. The drone to my right took my hand and slipped my fingers into her opening the moment they were slick with her juice. I tugged, trying to pull away, but she held me fast. The resulting jerk of my hand only cause her to shiver with pleasure, moaning and chirping sweetly. She leaned closer, practically whispering in my ear now.

That was when my head started spinning. The drone on my left had my fingers inside her now too. The other two were masturbating themselves vigorously, filling the air with squelching noises and high pitched squeals of pleasure. There was a strong musty smell in my nostrils now. I looked to the nearest drone and saw the green mucus had spread over the armour on my forearms, where it hardened nearly instantly.

I felt the queen shift her weigh, practically sitting on my chest now. She looked down seductively, rubbing her crotch over my chest plate. She was just as wet, if not worse than her minions, painting her juices on thick. The stuff practically flowed out of her.

"Argh!" I cried out, struggling again, drawing shivers of pleasure and louder chirps from the girls pleasuring themselves on my hands.

Then I felt Nezz's hand rub down my leg. She slowly lifted up my armour's groin-guard and fondled with the fly of my black camouflage fatigues worn under the ODST armour. Only now I noticed my own arousal. It was like I didn't actually want this to happen, but there was a little voice in the back of my head controlling my primal instincts, that was screaming: "Oh, sweet merciful lord, yes!"

Then I noticed the smell the drones were giving off. It was not their action, but the 'residue' they left. It must have been some kind of aphrodisiac. Not only was it making me drowsy and see two hive queens sitting on my chest, but it was giving me a fucking hard-on.

Slowly Nezz's talons found my fatigues' zipper and she pulled it down, spreading the fabric apart to create an opening.

"You wouldn't!" I cried.

"I would." Nezz replied, rising slightly and moving down my body. She leaned forward now and sat herself slightly below my waist. Now she had both hands in my crotch. Any minute now I would feel those talons...

She was surprisingly gentle. Her fingers skilfully worked my clothes, pulling my raging hard-on from my shorts and exposing it to the cool air outside. Hungrily, the drone lifted herself on her knees, and one hand wrapped around my member, she positioned herself so she hung right above the head.

"I swear to God, lady." I warned, fighting to stay conscious now. "If you..." the words died in my throat, and were replaced by a stifled moan.

Her body fell and in one deft move she impaled herself on my erection. The motion was quick. Her lips parted around the head first, then hugged the shaft all the way down.

"Oh, Godssssssssss..." she hissed softly, grinding her hips tight against mine, her claws raking down the front of my armour again. "So looooooong." She moaned, broken up by pleasured chirps. "I can feel it all the way inside... you are formidable, human."

I kept my mouth shut tight, along with my eyes. I didn't want to look. I put my mind elsewhere... but there was very little else I could think of, feeling her tight, hot and wet pussy wrapped around me, a drone on each hand, humping wildly and the moans with associated squelching from the other two masturbating to the sight of their queen straddling me. Then, when she rose slightly only to impale herself again, riding and grinding up and down, rubbing my erection from all sides with the soft, wet flesh, there was little else I could think of. All I could see was that red bugger sitting on top, violating me like some fuck-toy.

As she started bouncing up and down, cooing louder and louder with each thrust she forced on me, I managed to open my mouth and keep a steady tone.

"I swear, I'm gonna ki... aaah!" I couldn't help myself from crying out.

Nezz leaned back further, grabbing my knees and ground her hips faster, screeching as she felt my hard-on dig deeper into her.

There was a stir in my loins. I tried to think of something else. Bunny rabbits. Road kill... a road killed grunt, flat under the wheels of a warthog. Fat chicks. Each progressing thought more gross and off putting. But nothing worked. My muscles clenched. I felt a hot pulse run through ever extremity. My erection expanded, drawing an excited squeal from the drone queen as she arched her back, increasing her stroke. Longer, deeper thrusts. Her voice cooed sweetly over the chirping of her minions...

I came inside a bugger. Shot a load of cum right up into her belly... womb... whatever the hell drones had up in there. On the one hand it was supposed to feel warming and satisfying, and I'm sure there are many guys out there who would very much loved to be raped by a chick with a hot body, even if she was an alien. But with the throbbing in my head which felt like it was on a roller coaster, it didn't feel good. She had raped me. It was a cold feeling of gross violation.

Setting in my lap, Nezz leaned forward again, cupping her breasts in her claws, convulsing and twitching. Her legs were trembling as she let out an ecstatic cry. An orgasm later as she must have felt my warm cum drift up into her, the queen let out a sigh of pure satisfaction, back arched as she sat up straight. Her hands were still on her breasts, gently rubbing and caressing the smooth curves of the hardened shell that protected her body.

"So... good..." the queen rolled her head, flexing out her neck.

Gritting my teeth, I snarled. "Are you done now?" I too had to pause between breaths, feeling like I'd just run a mile.

My head slowly returned to normal as the girls on my hands stopped humping, but left my fingers clamped deep inside them. The two others had stopped masturbating. All of them were looking to their queen now.

Something started happening to the queen now. Something really odd. Only now did I notice a line running down the centre of the queen's chest, like a break in her exo-skeleton. It seemed like a symmetric pattern, and I thought nothing of it before. But now I saw the line was swollen. With every breath she took, the line seemed to break open her shell and part.

"What the fuck." I muttered.

The queen's chest suddenly blossomed, her exo-skeleton splitting down the middle and opening like the wings of a butterfly. And then I found myself looking right into the drone reproductive system. Most of what I saw was covered in the same mucus I saw when I shot the other buggers to pieces. Where her breasts were, there were actually two swollen sacks of what looked like eggs. And between them was a long, folded arm of sorts. It slowly extended out of her chest, opening into a three jointed rod. The tip ended in a frightening looking barb, and was transparent, showing this appendage was hollow like a straw you could drink through... or a tube to inject eggs through.

"My egg-sacks are so swollen!" the queen cried with orgasmic ecstasy. "You filled me up so much! I have to lay eggs so quickly, oh Gods the feeling... oh, the..." she couldn't finish, her sentence, trembling as she took a deep breath and grabbed hold of my waist, the long barbed tube hanging above my chest. "I'm going to need you for one last thing, my dear. Our babies need somewhere warm to hatch. And then they need to feed." Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me.

"Oh, fuck no!" I replied. "Lay your eggs somewhere else lady." I wasn't expecting her to listen to me. That would be far too convenient.

I looked around desperately, searching for something, anything to give me an edge. Then I saw the drone on my right hand. While her sisters were looking at their queen, this one seemed to be looking absently into the distance. Her eyes where half closed and hazy. Her hips still gently bucked on my fingers as her juices flowed freely from her body, forming a pool around my hand. She was trapped in an orgasm, and hadn't stopped cumming yet.

In one quick move I dug my fingers deeper into her sopping wet hole. The drone shuddered and squealed, her grip on my arm loosening for a fraction of a second. It was more than enough time to slip away.

Slick with drone cum, my fingers slipped out of her vagina with a wet pop before my hand darted to my belt. The queen's egg-laying tube rose high above me. My hand closed around my dagger and drew it with a clink of metal on metal...

The blade scythed up and sliced a good thirty inches off the queen's tube. Green ooze spurted out of the appendage as it automatically recoiled back into its starting position between the egg-sacks. Nezz screamed out loud, startling her minions, causing them to crawl away from me. The red drone fell flat on her back, closing up her chest and scrambling away, convulsing in pain. I quickly crawled backwards and readied myself for an attack. But it never came.

The green drone girls were more concerned with their queen. They took hold of her and quickly dragged her out of the room. The last drone out was the one who'd been pleasuring herself on my right hand. The one who had an extended orgasm. She turned and let out an angry hiss. But I swear to God, as she left, her anger seemed to subside, and the green drone gave a seductive wink before slamming the maintenance room door shut behind her.

I sat there, breathing hard with my heart racing for a long time. Slowly I managed to calm down, but it must have been there for an hour at least. Just staring at the door, waiting for them to come back and finish me off... but they didn't.

I couldn't believe my luck. Sure I'd been sexually violated, but I was unharmed and alive. And not I also knew why the fuck the drones had breasts. They were hiding egg-sacks under those puppies. Although, that made sense for the queen, I couldn't figure out why all the other female drones had breasts... or why there were other female drones to begin with either. Un-matured queens? I could only hope not.

Re-dressing myself I managed to stand and put away my knife before stumbling weakly across the room to the door. Dazed I pulled open the metal door and stumbled out into the tunnel, nearly stepping on my weapon. The smell of the drone cum coating my armour was wearing off. My senses slowly returned as I took a few fresh breaths and retrieved my submachine gun, brushing off as much of the green stuff as I could. Focusing on keeping my head straight, I tried to just listen to the crunch of the gravel beneath my boots as I followed the tunnel further upwards, slowly pushing a new magazine into my M7S.

"I really fucking hate drones." I whispered to myself.

Up ahead I made out some light. Daylight. How long had I been down here? Hours? Whatever, I was glad to be out of there. What had happened... it was just downright wrong. By God if the brass... no, screw the brass. What if the others ever heard about this? O'Brien, Reynolds, McKenzie and the other ODST I served with? Jesus Christ, I'd never hear the end of it!

Holstering my SMG and breaking into a jog, I glanced down to see the extent of the damage. I was surprised I even managed to re-dress myself right. Green goo splattered my armour where the drones had been rubbing themselves... ugh, I didn't want to think about it too much. I had to admit a part of me found it very erotic, but there was a stronger part of me that really fucking hated drones!

I reached the platform and noticed the sunlight was shining in through the station entrance, illuminating most of the platform. And waiting for me was Sergeant Boone himself. His armour was perfectly clean and completely unscratched, his sniper rifle held in both hands. Jumping as high as I could, I managed to mantle up onto the platform and tiredly walk over.

"Kid!" the sergeant waved me over as I got closer. "Good to see you. Took your time, didn't you?"

"You are fucking kidding me right?" I retorted, pointing down the way I had come. "Do you know what I found down there?"

"Drones? Yeah, I suspected as much." The sergeant nodded with a sigh.

"You knew and still sent me down there?" I yelled, lunging forward and grabbing the sergeant by the collar. "Do you know what they did to me?"

"It looks like you made it okay, though." Boone continued ignoring me completely. "We should get moving."

"They raped me, sarge!" I exclaimed, shaking the man slightly. "Five of them, including the hive queen fucking raped me. This shit?" I pointed at the goo that covered my armour before lowering my voice to a whisper. "It's exactly what you think it is."

The sergeant just stared at me blankly as if disregarding everything I just told him before turning away and moving towards the steps. "C'mon, we're behind schedule. We gotta get moving. Follow me."

I sighed, hanging my head as I drew my weapon and followed, ascending the stairway. "I fucking hate you sarge."

"I contacted the net, but I was cut off shortly after." Boone said as we walked up the steps. "You might wanna brace yourself for this kid."

We emerged out onto the street ruined street. Buildings were blasted, roads littered with rubble and abandoned or burnt out cars. A gust of wind picked up some loose pages of a soggy newspaper, dragging the paper across our path. It was bright, the sun rising high above the city skyline through the parted rainclouds. The streets and concrete were still wet, but the sun seemed to be drying up patches here and there, leaving a musty odour in the air, almost masking the smell of soot and burning hair and flesh.

But then I looked up and felt my heart stop. High above us, hanging over the city centre west-ish from where we stood was a ship. Not a friendly ship. A very nasty alien ship, partially hidden in the cloud cover, her nose and hazy outline clearly visible between the grey clouds. The colossal Covenant carrier looked like a fish hook from profile. Multi-coloured running lights winked across the sleek purple hull. A beam of dim light connected the belly of the colossal carrier with the ground, somewhere in the city centre. I could make out movement in the pillar of light, troops and equipment descending the huge gravity lift.

I knew this would not be good. Olduvai was lost. Covenant carriers could carry well over one hundred thousand troops, not counting their equipment and vehicles. And we were just two guys... well, a guy and a sergeant who seemed to be acting retarded all of a sudden for some strange unknown reason. But just two guys none the less.

"Bail." I said immediately. "I'm bailing. We should get the fuck out of here."

"I know what you mean." Boone said darkly, nodding his head and gazing off into the distance. "The Covenant will overrun this city and find the civilian bunkers. We need to stop them."

"I... that's... that's not what I said." I snapped. "The Covenant couldn't find their way out a paper bag. For an almighty congregation of superior and highly advanced aliens, dumbass fuckers can't even find earth, never mind a civvie bunker. We should bail and find a way to get in contact with the fleet. Get re-enforcements. That means going this way." I pointed in the opposite direction of the carrier.

"Your crazy, kid." Boone said looking me in the visor. "Two of us can't do much against an armada."

"I don't want to face an armada. I want to run away!" I was shouting now, not caring for chain of command or rank anymore.

"You're right though. If we don't make a stand, who will?" Boone nodded, starting a slow march west. "C'mon! We'll find some marines and form a strike force. Maybe a small force can infiltrate that beast and kill it from the inside."

"No!" I yelled. "Listen to the words coming out of my... oh, for fuck's sake." With an explosive sigh, I hung my head and walked after the sergeant. I could have run off right then and left the sergeant alone... I should have... but I didn't.

Worst... mission... ever... and this was only the beginning. My name is Seth Sawyer. I am an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper corporal and this is my... er... I suppose you could call it a 'story.'

---***---

'Blip-bloop!' Achievement unlocked: Odd Man Out, you completed the tutorial level.

If you haven't gone to my journal and checked out the results of the naming competition, I suggest you do so now.