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[Halo:Forgotten] Chapter 1

OP Spartan O51 CI

For all things the creepy aliens brought with them, the smell was the only thing I could hardly ever stand. The putrid methane gas was a smell I could never acclimate too and had alerted me numerous times when a covenant patrol would lurk nearby.
My adventure began or rather begun in the heart welcoming backwater bridge known as Eridanus II, where the insurgency was all but too common. Their cause for independence was never the fire for my anger, it was Trebuchet that I would blame for all of my grievances.
It was another warm day with a grim resolve in the air as the UNSC had just declared that a large scale operation would be undertaken in the following days. Curfew was enforced and the Marines were deployed to the streets in addition to the colonial militia. The Unified Earth Government had finally acknowledged the insurrection and greeted them all to kindly for their efforts. That was the day when I lost it all.
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Chapter 1: The boy
The shuttle was jammed full of the elderly and the hoodlums with hardly any room to shuffle between the news-feed on my tablet.
Reports from the UNSC Security Representative - 3rd Fleet Deployment to Harvest. Soon Song popstar soaring in the trends? Tune in for more details now at four credits a month!
No major changes in the day other than some deployment efforts of the UNSC to promote the colonization of Harvest and a thing or two about the idle Travon Miles, a musical artist who had a concert the night prior.
Today was another fantastic day as I was en route to collect my weekly militia pay from the base.
Life was simple for us militiamen if we did what we were told. Many of my friends did it to serve their home, but I was exploiting the system, and who could hate me when they made it so damn easy. From the long to the short of it, the militia was but a stepping stone to my dream of serving with the legendary troopers that could fall feet first into the action. I was not alone in this effort.
As I arrived at the transit station, the recruiting office was tailored to the lines of personal wishing to enlist into the Defensive Force. All of those volunteers would attend the respective and grueling courses to become elite warriors, airman, crewman, and Marines. For my comrades and myself, we would only have but one option until our selection date would come, and so we worked diligently.
Our duties when on the base varied depending on what we signed up to do. I was a rifleman and to glorify my position I was instructed to clean every space until the Governor herself could commission our headquarters as the UNSC Embassy. We had earned many titles from the time we joined on until present and my most memorable was "Dunky" after we stood to qualify for our water combat experience.
My long time friend and team leader Gustan was tasked with leading our training exercise scheduled upon my arrival. It was to be a long discussion on radio etiquette. At least it was to be that way.
Upon the shuttle stopping a hooded figure ran off the train and then everything went loud. An explosion engulfed everything and propelled my body back several meters. With a clank on the bulkhead my world drew dark. I felt someone on my torso, rather something as I examined it it was a leg that belonged to somebody on board. I hardly had time to panic as the expressions all caught up, I faded into nothingness.
I awoke several minutes later, caught in the flaming mass of steel I began to feel myself for deformities or bleeding, none. I then grabbed the leg from my chest and inched upwards as fast as I could.
The station was a mess and everything was blurring together. I looked down and saw a women that seemed frail, she was shivering and asleep. I further peered into the surroundings and lost the contents of my stomach.
Much of the scene was a bloody mess with many missing limbs and others in unsettling, unnatural positions. It was a sight I could never forget. I looked down and must have forgotten that I was carrying someone's extremity as I clenched and dropped it.
"Someone, get help," were the only words I could muster. The help had already arrived though and my friends from the militia were helping me transit off the site of the attack.
Years of training had prepared me, but I was powerless as the lives faded before me. I was committed to culling the insurrection then, little did I know who was to blame.