Mass Effect; Chronicles of a Soldier
Back From the Dead
My standard form of writing applies.
" " - Spoken
' ' - Thoughts, usually in italics, as well.
( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.
Italics- Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.
Bold!- Things like this are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.
Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.
Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.
Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?
Okay, I admit, I couldn't resist. I am a hardcore Mass Effect fan, and I finally broke down and wrote a fic. ME fans, rejoice, for it will NOT be something stupid, sappy, Mary Sue-ish, nor will it encompass only one of the games. It begins near the start of Mass Effect 2, as a tribute, seeing as that was the first of the three that I played, all those years ago.
Man, that game was IMPOSSIBLE! Seriously, casual was normal, normal was hard, hardcore was insane, and insanity? Damn. IMPOSSIBLE. Moving along.
All I could hear... Was my heartbeat, for the longest time.
An alarm sounded, making me think of something other than my pulse for the first time in what felt like centuries.
"Life support system; failure. Deactivating cryogenic stasis."
Blearily, I heard a hollow, mechanical voice ring out, dull and diluted. I was, floating, immersed in a viscous liquid. My body felt numb, and detached. It took every ounce of willpower just to open my eyes, and force my hands to clench.
My vision was blurry, but I could see it; the water, draining away as I started to get feeling back in my icey limbs. Just then-
"Purging stasis chamber."
Whatever had been holding the water in place shifted, and the restraints holding my arms, legs and neck released, and I fell forward, collapsing to the floor, twitching instead of getting up as I wished to. My body just wasn't responding at all, for some reason.
'Got to... Move.'
I just lay there panting, shivering. Everything felt off, as though I weren't even in my own body.
"Warning: Prototype Spartan Unit 0 is active. Repeat, Prototype Spartan Unit 0 is active. All security personnel, report to operating room 1. Subject is considered extremely dangerous. Lethal force authorized." That automated voice again.
That's me, I guess. Security personnel, lethal force?
No. Not yet, I refuse. I will not die. Not here, not now...
[Cue Music: Never Turn Back, by Crush 40. Expect much mood music]
My heart began to beat, faster and faster as the adrenaline started to flow. That old, familiar rush of excitement.
'Not good. Get Up... Get Up. Get up. Get up! GET up! GET UP! GET UP GODDAMNIT!'
My fist clenched, muscles tensed, and I forced my arm to move, placing my knucles flat on the floor, pushing for all I was worth. Right arm first, then the left. Push. Move. Move, damnit!
After several seconds of struggling, my body was upright, still shivering, but I felt dry. Frozen solid, but dry. I blinked away the fuzziness, shaking the haze from my mind. 'What the... Where am I?'
My neck felt like a cinderblock, trying to tilt my head to look. Everything was, white. I was in a large, circular white room, well lit with bright white light, emanating from several fluorescent lights in the ceiling. There was something that looked like a medical gurney in the center, with several steel endtables standing next to it. The room was maybe twenty feet across, and at least forty feet high, floor to ceiling. Up above, directly across from me, was a large window; it was darkly tinted, and I couldn't see anything through it
'An observation deck; it's an operating room.' I thought numbly, still trying to get my bearings. 'Have to get moving. Can't stay here.'
Looking back down was far easier; my head felt heavy, ditto with my eyelids. I finally took notice of the biggest detail I had missed earlier, that I wasn't naked, but I wasn't wearing clothes, either. Around the edges of my field of vision, I could see some kind of dark outline, as though I were wearing goggles or something. When I focused on my hands, that's when I noticed.
My hands were gloved, for lack of a better word. Large, overlapping metal plates covered them, as well as my arms. Under the plates, was a thick, skintight black suit of some kind.
Now I know why my head is so heavy; I'm wearing a helmet. The visor still had remnants of whatever fluid I had been dunked in. Not water, but something viscous and blue, with a greenish tint. But what's- No. Now isn't the time. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus, ignore the grogginess.
I pushed myself to my feet, and discovered my entire body was covered in the armor. White and black plates, with a black undersuit. There were gold highlights around the edges of the pauldrons, helmet, knees and vambraces. That's why my body feels so heavy.
'Not now. Focus. Worry about it later.' I looked around again, finally locating the door. It was already open; a pair of large, sliding automatic doors. 'Great. Not my lucky day.'
One step at a time. My body was starting to lose the numbness, and I no longer felt that biting cold.
'Focus; breathe in, breathe out. Listen.' I moved as quickly and surely as I could to the side of the door, putting my back to it, sidling closer to the gap. Bracing my hand against the wall, I peeked out, looking around.
A hall, with a flight of stairs on one side and a dead end on the other. It was as white as the other room, with one exception. All along the walls were several spatters of blood that had seeped to the floor. I could even see distinct handprints on some of them. The door looked as though it were forced open, with gouges in the metal, as well.
'Forward area cl- Wait. Bodies.'
Directly next to the door and out of my field of vision, was a dead body. Fresh, less than six hours. Female, facedown, wearing a lab coat; gunshot wounds in the back that seeped blood was all that marred the coat's pure white surface. Judging from the way she's sprawled out, she was running, and shot in the back. The blood on the floor suggests she tried to drag herself away even after she fell. Right next to her hand was something rectangular, made of metal.
Look left, look right; clear. I stepped into the hall, kneeling next to her, plucking the object from the floor, oddly confused that my dexterity was unhindered by the heavy armor I'd woken up in. Hm.
Flipping it over, I got a closer look. It was a frame of some sort, and what I assumed to be the bottom side had several keys.
'Huh. Wonder what the hell this thing's for?'
Considering my half-dazed state, my curiosity overriding my common sense was unsurprising. I tapped one of the keys, and the open space in the center of it lit up, a translucent orange screen appearing.
'Whoa. Wicked tech.' It was a computer; a small, portable computer. The screen displayed lines of text, though I couldn't decipher any of it. 'Hmph, great. Wherever I am, I sure as hell ain't in Kansas. They don't even write in english. Huh, now that I think about it, that announcement clearly WAS english. The hell?'
I was about to toss the tablet aside, when one of my higher thought processes shined through. Whatever it was, it must have some value. The woman is wearing a lab coat, and was likely a doctor or researcher, so it should have some useful information, once I figure out how to read it. Might even tell me just what happened here. I looked about myself, searching for a pocket.
Oddly enough, the suit had several storage compartments on it, all hard-cased and sealed. Directly below the small of my back, right where my belt would be, was the largest one. Something like an asspack, I suppose. Need to find a mirror, sometime, I noted.
It took only a moment to figure out the latch on the case, opening it. The inside was padded, and made to store a large number of items. It was surprisingly spacious, for what it was. I stored the- What do they call these things? A tablet, that's what it is! Hm. I'll worry about it later. For now, I turned my attention back to my surroundings, starting towards the stairs.
Going up was easier than I'd first thought. My body still felt weak, but I was moving. Beyond that, my mind was clearing, coherent thoughts coming far easier, mental processes speeding up. I was starting to feel more sure of myself, if I ran into whatever security that PA system had mentioned. Heh, if they were even here, that is.
When I made it to the top, I found only one door on my right-hand side. But next to it were three more bodies. Two of which were wearing some kind of armor, with the same white and black color scheme as my own, but they also looked far different than mine. Full armor, including face helmets, but with several bulletholes pockmarking their entirety. However; on the chestplate of the one lying face-up, I saw some kind of symbol. A black diamond, with two golden chevrons down the sides.
Strange. It's the same symbol that was on some of the walls, and on the tablet I picked up, as well as the other guy's armor. It isn't a rank insignia, then. Perhaps the mark of a company, or whoever build this place. The employer of these people, maybe.
The two armored men both had similar items near their hands. What looked like a pistol, with two barrels and a full hand guard instead of a trigger guard. I bent and picked one up, inspecting it.
The barrels had squared-off shrouds; atop the highest one were three-post sights. The rear was a long guttersight, with a lit up front post. Wherever I am, simple open sights were still the same. On the side of the weapon were two small red lights; I could decipher no purpose from them, so I assumed they were some kind of power indicator, or of asthetic properties. Along one of the largest, bulkiest parts, the letters TFX were printed in white paint, looking faded and worn. It's definitely a service weapon, not a safe queen.
Single trigger, simple enough. The bottom of the grip showed it to be some kind of magazine, with a basic European heel catch. Pulling it out, I found it was almost fully-loaded with small, cylidrical items. Cartriges? Hm. Nine of them in the magazine, with room for three more. I loaded it back into the pistol, giving it another once-over before taking a full grip and looking down the sights.
Front was red, lit up with some kind of fiber optics or LED, while the rear had two light green dots. It felt comfortable enough, well-balanced and lighter than it looked. I then picked up the other one, giving it a casual inspection before trying to figure out how to store it.
That's when the armor did something useful; I had swept the gun down to stow it with the tablet, when it grazed the plating along my left thigh and caught. I let go and it clung there before folding in on itself, becoming compact.
"Well, that's convenient." I spoke for the first time since I woke up, my voice falling flat, trapped inside the helmet. Huh. I'll remove it and look everything over once I'm outta here.
Turning, I walked over to the closed door, only for it to slide open on its own. Huh. Gun up, I checked the room as far as I could before entering, old habits falling into place, muscle memory taking over.
Right, check corners. Front and center, check high-low. Left, check corners and blind spots. Clear. Observation deck, computer banks along desks with chairs, two more bodies, both wearing lab coats. Obvious signs of a firefight, not that the eggheads had much of a chance to fight back, as both of them were unarmed. Moving to the nearest undamaged computer, I tapped one of the keys, causing the translucent screen to appear once more.
And again with unreadable text, damnit. "Augh, don't they have any fucking English?" I groaned, but before I could react-
The entire suit I wore gave a jolt, going completely rigid! "Shit!"
'Fuck fuck fuck!' Before I could do anything, the visor in the helmet lit up in blue, static and white noise appearing for some eight seconds. I was starting to panic, as I couldn't move in the slightest, when a bar appeared in the dead center and started filling, a percentage number beside it.
Took only a few moments before it filled, the visor cleared, and several things appeared around the edges. At the top left appeared a blue circle, with one wedge directly forward. In the center of it, was a green dot.
The hell is that for? Anyway.
At the top-center of the visor was a blue bar, above it another line of unreadable text. As it filled, I noticed a faint blue field of light surrounding me, before vanishing. Stranger. On the bottom right-hand side of the visor were several numbers and more text; 8/108.
Wonder what that's for.
There was even more stuff, though the bulk of it was uncluttered. At the top-right of the visor was a small screen, showing a line that went straight across, going up and down at regular intervals.
Aha! An EKG, or heartrate monitor. Very nice. There were a few other things that I couldn't quite make out, as well. Stranger still.
The last thing I noticed was a small reticle appearing; it was simply a translucent blue outline of a box, and it went wherever my gaze was focused. It was tracking my eye movements, scanning and focusing in on whatever object I was looking at. Exceptionally useful. After a moment, I notice a green bar appear, shifting to the lower left-hand corner, small and unnoticed, for the most part. It remained empty, with a percentage number next to it.
After a moment, it bumped up to 1%. Huh. Something else loading.
I rolled my shoulders, the suit no longer restricting my movement. I now felt strong, rejuvenated and powerful; muscles flexing, the stiffness and weakness having completely evaporated from my body entirely. Looking down to the computer I had been messing with earlier, I sighed, still irritated that nothing was in english.
"Great, wonder if it's greek?" This time, my voice rang out, some speaker on the outside of the helmet amplifying my voice, which I could hear perfectly. Hm.
Wait, what the hell?
The text of the computer rearranged itself, into something else unrecognizable. Not to mention, the text inside of my own helmet changed. "The hell...? Wait. English." I spoke again, and within moments, the text rearranged itself into english.
I pulled up the chair, sat down and started going through everything I could get ahold of.
I found the folder labeled as such, and opened it, sifting through massive amounts of data.
Three hundred people, willingly or unwillingly, were placed in cryogenic stasis. They were all exceptional specimens of the human genome, all exceptionally well-trained in the ways of war. They were genetically modified and conditioned to the fullest extent, with the intention of creating the best commandos and shock troopers possible. Then, those who were successfully modified were to be equipped with highly advanced armorsuits. This facility housed the first successfully modified individual, the prototype for the entire project.
According to this, the armor I'm wearing is the prototype, a non-production model; too advanced for me to even begin to understand, and too expensive for them to mass-produce, but I do grasp the fundamentals. The blue bar represents the kinetic barrier charge, or shields, as they're commonly called. They block incoming projectiles, from bullets to shrapnel. The armor is a combination of metal and ablative ceramic, meant to stop all handheld munitions that aren't anti-material. But the undersuit? That was nano-tech. Micro robots that self-repair the entire suit, as well as maintain homeostasis for me, the wearer. It also deals with injuries to my body, keeping me up and shooting for as long as possible. It even has an indicator for where I am being shot from, when under fire.
The suit is designed to keep the soldier alive and standing for as long as possible, allowing him or her to fight at maximum efficiency for weeks or months on-end without any supplies, save for ammunition. Even then, the soldier can keep fighting in hand-to-hand if necessary, to acquire enemy weapons. A built-in computer handles everything from life support, communications, active scanning and navigation, to hacking devices, translating languages both spoken and written, along with cataloging information gathered in the field for later reference. Incredibly useful.
Damn. It does everything but wipe your ass and pull the trigger for you. Inside the visor, I finally figured out what several of the other readouts were. The EKG also showed BPM and blood pressure, with a brief toxicology check. It can diagnose poisons and illnesses, even. The circle is a motion sensor, compass, and IFF reader. Useful, especially in a cluttered environment. The numbers on bottom-right were a weapon and ammunition readout. Apparently, the weapon I have is an M3 Predator heavy pistol. Well, that makes my job much easier, knowing exactly how many shots I have. Moving along.
There was a whole hell of a lot of information on the Spartan project, but I don't have time to read all that. One last thing I want to look at; my dossier. Something about the entire thing doesn't sit right with me.
I remember many things... My training, my job, history, how I got shoved in that damn tube; but I can't remember a lot of other things, personal things. Where I lived, who my family was, what they looked like.
My own name?
None of it rang any bells.
As I perused through the dossier, I found it to be a little too sparse for my liking.
Male, roughly age twenty to twenty-six. No known name or family. Given the callsign "Blade" due to numerous edged-weapon scars present before alterations were made. Subject reacted exceptionally well to genetic manipulation and cybernetic implants. Signs of previous gene modification present; primitive, but effective attempts at enhancing the subject's physical and mental abilities. No sign of rejection thus far. As testing has shown, subject is shrewd and exceptionally intelligent, needing little information to make decisive conclusions.
Physically, subject is a prime example of the utmost possibilities of what it means to be "Human." Physical abilities exceed expectations tenfold, along with a natural variation of the T-01A cybernetic enhancement. This ability likely originated from the first time the subject was altered, and may be exponentially improved when used in conjunction with said cybernetics as a catalyst.
Huh. Man, this is some shit right out of a B-rated sci-fi flick. I stopped reading, backing further and further out of the directory. I copied everything to do with the spartan project, and searched around a bit, before I found what I was looking for. A method to transfer the information to nearby devices.
It took a short while to figure out which device was the one in my possession, but I transferred everything that seemed relevant to the tablet before turning and walking out of the room, through the only other door.
'Now to find a way outta here.'
I carefully moved through the automatic door, scanning left and right as I went.
Nothing, nothing but bodies. Strewn about the hall, were even more of them. Men and women, thankfully no children. Several were armored, wearing the same black and white armor as the others. But even more numerous were bodies dressed in some kind of jumpsuit; it had a number of pockets, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows on most. It looked like some kind of battle-dress uniform.
Or would that be the armor? Hm.
Down this hall, were several doors. I took a breath, and moved along the wall to the closest, ignoring the blood and gore scattered about. This door was also automatic, as it slid open when I got close. I waited several beats, before whipping around and stepping inside, gun raised. Nothing. It was a restroom, with urinals and stalls. Along the nearby wall were sinks, as well as-
After a quick check, I deemed the room clear and went to get a look at myself.
I stood roughly 6'4, including the helmet. The armor was, indeed, black and white with the same diamond symbol on the left chestplate. The visor was blacked out; it had slots that allowed me to look up and down unhindered, with a full facemask. It completely covered my head, and my neck was protected by a collar that protruded from the pauldrons and chestplate. The left pauldron was larger than the right, so that if I turned my left side to an opponent with a rifle to my shoulder, it would protect my face and neck.
Anyway. The armor itself looked heavy, made of some kind of metal. The black suit underneath it was skintight, and looked to be woven of some sort of thick kevlar, or neoprene-like material. Despite how it looked, it was immensely comfortable and felt light, even. As though I'd spent my entire life wearing it.
'Such armor... Crafted for battle, meant for one purpose; to wage war. Just what enemy rates constructing such machines?' I shuddered involuntarily as I thought on the answer to that question, and what it might mean for me in the near future.
Strange and stranger. There was a protective codpiece, of course, along with overlapping abdominal plating. My flanks were guarded by small, interlocking plates that overlapped others, maintaining flexibility, while granting unsurpassed protection and coverage. Solid plates covered my forearms, upper arms, thighs, shins, shoulders, knees. Not to mention-
There was something on my back, sticking up over my shoulders about an inch and a half on each side. I couldn't quite make them out, but they looked squared-off, and made of the same metal as the armor. Huh. Not high enough to be meant to protect the back of my head, then.
Well, whatever. I'll worry about 'em later. I rolled my shoulders again, tapped my visor, turned and walked out, looking down the barrel.
I moved through the hall, giving the bodies a kick as I went, ensuring there were no traps or people playing possum. All dead, that's for sure. There were two offices and another bathroom in the hall, all empty, except for the occasional cadaver.
Oddly enough, I've only seen bodies of people wearing the same white and black clothing or armor, but no one wearing an enemy uniform. Strange; these people obviously fought back, judging from the armor, fired weapons, and bulletholes in the walls, but whoever is was that came here banging on their tom-toms just steamrolled right over these poor bastards. These people simply weren't prepared or equipped to fight back properly. Hmph. Well, here's hoping I don't run into the same guys.
I got through the hall, and the next without incident. I finally found something that told me where I was. Writing on the wall, with arrows.
Again, in that shitty non-english dialect. Fuck. I looked at it for a moment, before something happened. When my eyes focused in on those lines of text, the reticle in my visor highlighted them, scanning them.
Then, above the reticle, appeared the words I was looking for.
Operating room, left.
Shuttle bay, straight.
Of course I went to the right, grinning.
'An armory, huh? Hope they've got something better than more crappy pistols.'
I went through two more hallways, trying not to trip over armored bodies, before I found it. A room with a large door, that had a sign above it labeling it as the armory. Sweet.
Bodies were strewn about, all wearing armor. I got closer, and saw inside the armory itself.
There was a table flipped on its side, used as cover. On the other side of it, were two bodies that had been torn to shreds, blood and gore everywhere. Well, either a grenade got tossed in here, or someone with a shotgun ran up and tapped 'em with the muzzle.
I took a few moments to look around the room, and saw what I was looking for. Racks lined with firearms, rifles. Sweeeet.
Oddly enough, only the two bodies in this room and the few just outside it were armed with rifles. I guess they got hit hard and fast, without enough time to get in here and equipped. Placing my pistol on my right thigh, where it stuck and folded in on itself, I picked up the nearest rifle.
It was odd-looking, had a stock and pistol grip, but the receiver was rounded at the top, with two barrels and the forend was kinda square-ish, with rounded edges. On the side of it were the letters M8, and on the side of the upper, was the word "Assembly." It had a trigger guard that was oversized for gloved hands, with three red lights on the side of the receiver, just behind the lower barrel. On top of the weapon was a built-in optic, some kind of scope, with the words "Hard Lock" on it. Very nice, if it's sighted in properly. The stock looked like it would fold inward, as well.
The forend had a latch on it, the same kind as on the M3. I manipulated it, and the backside of the forend swung downward, revealing a large number of the same cartridges I'd seen before, loaded sideways through the handguard, fully loaded. Aha. That's the magazine for it, then, and the cartriges are loaded into stripper clips of some sort. Huh. Seems kinda like a step backwards from detachable magazines, but whatever. I closed the forend and put the gun to my shoulder.
It felt comfortable, at least. Lightweight for how it looked, just like that pistol. After a second, the words M8 Avenger, 40/600 appeared in the bottom-right of my visor. So, it's called the Avenger? Huh. Judging from the number of rounds, I'm guessing it's either a burst-fire or full-auto.
I glanced through the scope-
Well, now... It showed a simple reticle, dot inside of a crosshair circle. On the bottom-left of the scope showed a small readout, that said 2.4 metres. A rangefinder, too? On the bottom-right of it was another readout, showing the zoom; 1X. Hm. Adjustable, methinks. Very nice.
Pulling it from my shoulder, I glanced around the room again, and soon found what I was looking for. Another rack, lined with clips of those cylindrical cartridges.
Heheheheheh. Sweet. I snatched up several clips, loading them into the metal cases on the front of my armor. Setting the rifle down, I reached for the pistol on my right side, and it unfolded as my hand got near. Nice. I grabbed it and pulled straight up, pulling the weapon off effortlessly.
Removing the magazine, I plucked three cartridges from one of those other clips, and loaded them into the mag before reloading the gun itself, replacing it on my thigh. I did the same with the other handgun, and put as many of the clips as I could fit into the different cases on my armor that looked to be made for them.
Okay; no longer have to worry about ammo. Picking the rifle back up, I left the armory, searching throughout the area.
My next destination was medical, and I found more bodies dressed in entirely different uniforms. Huh. Almost look like long jackets with integral gloves.
I moved inside the room that had a caduceus sign directly above it. Inside was a small infirmary; a few hospital beds with medical equipment next to them, and on the walls were three red dispensers that had a single, large white cross on each one. Hm. Moving to the closest one, I found a small glass and metal cask being dispensed, with some kind of gel in it. Then that blue square reticle made itself useful again, highlighting that cask.
It was subtitled 'Medi-gel,' stating reserves full right next to it. Well, that's self-explanatory.
Picking it up, another rolled out, replacing it. Huh. I placed four of them in my largest storage case alongside the tablet, turned and walked out. Wonder why it said reserves full? I didn't see any in the other cases.
Well, anyway. I moved down the halls, until I found the shuttle bay.
Inside, was an actual large dry-dock, with a massive open door with a blue field covering it. Outside that doorway, was the vastness of space.
After a tense moment, I decided it wouldn't suck me out into space just for my walking in there,(My luck isn't THAT bad, right?) and looked around.
The nearest large, car-like thing was white with black highlights, and looked faintly space-agey. Huh. There was a side door on it already open, and I walked inside of it, finding the vehicle a bit cramped for my height.
Several seats inside, with a small doorway. Going through it, I found the pilot's seat, with several consoles before it. I sat down, looking over the controls until I found a single button labeled 'Autopilot.'
Awesome. I hit that and in an instant, I felt the entire thing rumble and shake as the doors closed, before feeling gravity seem to just kinda let off a bit. I felt nearly weightless, and for a moment, I wondered, 'Am I in space already?'
Then the ship tossed me back a little, just a little, as it moved forward. Well, now. After a moment, a mechanical female voice spoke.
"Please select a destination."
On the console, one of those translucent screens appeared, with a few preprogrammed destinations showing up, in english of all things. None of them made much sense to me, as I didn't see Earth on there, after all. But one of them caught my eye.
"Destination; Omega. Confirmed, shuttle is underway. Estimated time of arrival: Six hours."
Six hours, huh? Well, time enough for a short nap, I suppose. Maybe It'll help clear my head.
Heh, and help to remember how the fuck I got roped into this shit.
"We are Anonymous. We are legion. We do not forgive, we do not forget. Expect us." -Anonymous.
AUTHOR COMMENTARY: YES, I know there are several Halo references in here. That's because I am a bit of a Halo fan, but before you people start hiking up your pitchforks, torches and magnums, I had the design concept for the armor in place BEFORE Halo 4 came out, and before any of the trailers were even released. (Think of a cross between Mjolnir and N7) I'd been planning this fic since mid-2010, just hadn't decided whether or not to post it, since I had Waking Death and other things on my mind. I also redid, rewrote, and reread everything over and over again, before I finally got it right. Anyway.
In fact, the idea for the design came from a different source entirely...
Metroid, of all things. In Prime, you see that on the back of Samus' armor are thrusters; I had the idea for a high-tech suit of armor that included said thrusters for maneuvering in Zero-G, rapid movement, and dodging obstacles. Then, later on, I played Other M when it came out.(It sucked. That game was hard as hell until you mastered sense-move, plus the voice-acting sucked donkey balls)
In that, they used those thrusters for dodging and other tricky moves. Kinda pissed me off, since I had that idea the first time I played Mass Effect 2. Later on, Halo 4 was released, and they, too, had those built-in thrusters.
I said to myself, "Wow, everyone's on the same page now. Huh." But yes, the way they're meant to look in here is based on the Halo 4 spartan armor. Looks better than Samus' armor, in my opinion. My fic, I do what I want.
Now, don't get your panties in a bunch, hardcore ME fans, and Halo fanatics.
The Halo refrences are going to be a running gag, as well as a nod to such a great series. I'm just not a fan of the new storyline 343 has put in place. Gameplay was great, but the story was... Lacking. Anyway.
There is also a few nods to the movie 300, and the historical warriors it was based upon. The project was originally titled Spartan because the spartans were, historically, the most disciplined, well-trained, deadliest warriors on the face of the earth. The soldiers used in this project were meant to be shock troopers that would turn the tides of any war. Strong as a Krogan, as intelligent as a Salarian, as disciplined as a Turian, as adaptive as a Vorcha, and as versatile as a Human.
Perfect soldiers for any army...
Also, the nickname Blade is NOT form the Blade movies, in any way shape or form. I like those movies, I saw them when I was younger, but they were not my inspiration for using that name. I do not own them, Halo, Mass Effect, Metroid, or any other copyrighted material that I may knowingly or unknowingly include in my works of fanfiction.
Another thing, sorry for any spelling errors, I don't have spellcheck on Wordpad. This chapter has been updated AGAIN, I hope you've all enjoyed it.
Wow. Long Author Commentary. Hope I won't have to write any more of 'em this long... So.
Fuck you VERY MUCH, and have a nice day. =P