//------------------------------//
// The End. The Beginning 
// Story: Haylo: Crimson 
// by Zarius9998 
//------------------------------//

Crimson.

"Rookie! Celestia damnit!"

My ears rang, my vision was blurry, my head ached, and my entire body was sore...I was beginning to again question why I agreed to sign-up with this whole "Spartan-IV" program again...all it had brought me was pain. From day one in training, up until the moment where I would die. Just...pain.

"You idiot!"

I had been shouted at by drill sergeants. I had been shouted at by commanders. I had been shouted at by a court marshal. I had been shouted at by those damn Covenant...and I had been shouted at by HER. That's all she did, was shout at me...even while I was dying, just more shouting.

"You bucking IDIOT!"

I wished the ringing would completely block all sound...so I could just stop hearing her voice. I had had enough of her voice at that point. It just represented everything I hated!

"I swear...! I told you not to...! BUCK!"

My helmet was off, and all I could see were her glowering crimson eyes as she leaned over me. Why did she take her helmet off?...

"Tell me, Rookie..." she growled, speaking quieter than before, "Who is your favorite Princess?"

With that, she stood up, on only her back legs in that odd way she likes to, and looked away from me, a combat knife in hoof.

"Oh buck it."

She shook her head, placing a hoof over her face for a few seconds before looking down at me again...

"Go tell your 'favorite princess' that I thought she was hot for me, hmm?"

I saw her eyes again. They were completely and totally deranged. And her sharp-toothed smile only made the feeling of dread it gave off worse. She was losing her composure again...I almost felt bad for whoever it was directed towards. It was actually kind of fitting: Her standing there, that look in her crimson eyes, her equally crimson mane splayed around her face randomly...her battered and dented armor covered in blood...some of her own blood trickling down from a cut next to her right ear...all the while, bullets, spikes, plasma, and banshees zipping by in the back. I would have laughed at her statement anyway, though, if it wasn't for the fact that I was about to pass-out from blood-loss...I was beginning go recall why we were called Crimson Team at that moment.

-------------

//Initiate Team Bios//

//...recovering info...

...acquired//

Name- Crimson Team.

Members- Four
 ~Composed of-
  -Commander: Rayna "Widow" Smith. Human Female ODST.
  -SIC- Artemis "Wolfie" Crimson. Mare Spartan-IV.
  -Communicationist- Ryan "Ghost" Smith. Human Male ODST.
  -New Recruit- /.?&FI/\<L4E/ERR$&&OR...\ "Rookie." Colt Spartan-IV.

-Team Background~
The name "Crimson" stems from the members' unfortunate run-ins with morbid and bloody situations. While every soldier encounters the harshness of war, the members of this team all have the prerequisite of leaving some of the worst and mind-breaking events with a stable enough mind to still function. The Team, with their inhuman and inpony-like state of mind towards morbid situations are usually sent on sweep or post-massacre missions to sift, quite literally, through the remains of battles and attacks for any survivors or salvageable items. This is the team that undertakes missions no one else would ever want to...I guess you could call them our "Bad Company."

The raw inspiration for the team's name comes from its's Second in Command, Artemis. This...disturbed pony was found amidst a complete massacre of covenant, human, and pony soldiers and civilians. While it has never been determined if the casualties on all sides were caused by her, it is prominently clear that she was responsible for the barely recognizable remains of each an every Covenant soldier. There were also reports of signs of some of the corpses being partially devoured by what would best be described as a wolf. In the end, the young mare was taken into the Spartan-IV program with immense interest. 

Upon being told she would be fighting against the covenant with technological aid from the UNSC, Artemis' response was as follows, "So you mean I'm allowed to kill them all?"

//Subject Files...searching...

...acquired//

--/Rayna Smith AKA "Widow."

Rayna found herself stuck with the name "Widow" for the sole reason that she could not hold down a lover for more than three days. It's not that they broke up, no, but instead for the reason that each boy friend or fiancé would end up dead. Her first, soon to be husband, in fact, was killed while attempting to salvage Equis. Months later, her new boyfriend went MIA on a routine check-up trip where studies on the highly classified and quarantined artifact, The Marker, WERE taking place. Shortly after that, her third boyfriend committed suicide for unknown reasons. Lastly, she attempted to kindle relations with a Stallion, which ended in disaster as she watched him become crushed underneath the feet of a Scarab. She has become a cold, heartless woman because of this, which, I am sad to say, makes her a very capable soldier.

She specializes in Vehicle Warfare, mastering the controls of every vehicle under both our own, and Covenant command. She even piloted the very Scarab which killed her last boyfr-er, coltfriend and wreaked havoc upon Covenant forces.

Preferred Weapon Set-up- Standard issue Magnum and SMG with optional silencers for both. Standard issue Combat Knife.\

--/Artemis Crimson AKA "Wolfie"

Artemis, already supposedly possessing the name Crimson, acquired her name "Wolfie" from the abnormal teeth she possesses. Unlike any other pony, Artemis has teeth of which resemble a wolf more than a pony, thus, the name "Wolfie." Of course, her killer instincts of which she possessed even before entering the Spartan-IV program, along with her signature "Next Meal" stare, added to the fittingess of the nickname. Miss Crimson, unfortunately, shows very clear signs of mental disturbance and outright insanity, especially for her odd craving of raw meat, while most ponies prior to their inclusion in the war had never even tasted meat. On top of this, she has also had multiple outbursts of sheer rage and fury, harming many. Though these "outbursts" are seemingly uncontrollable, she has mastered the ability to "direct" them at enemy forces. I have seen the outcome of one of these flares firsthand...it's completely terrifying...yet very effective and useful...but through all this, she is actually quite a chivalrous mare, being no where near as cold as Widow...that is, when she's not terrorizing the other soldiers or molesting the...well, anyone. Her preferences don't seem to point to one specific gender, or species for that matter, when it comes to her..."games."

Artemis is one hell of a combatant. Specializing in CQC and excelling in flexible and agile movement and thinking, she can, and HAS taken down a pair of Hunters without even picking up a weapon. She is a master of adaption, able to compensate any unfortunate situation into one that will work into her favor using her quick speed and on-her-hooves thinking. Then, when she is not fully in control of her mental processes while in one of her outbursts, she disregards all caution or inhibitions, throwing more than seemingly possible into decimating, mutilating, and just plain tearing to shreds anything, and EVERYTHING she wants. We have taken precautions to include an "early warning" system in her armor to alert our own ranks of when to avoid her at ALL COSTS when in this state, as she is rendered incapable of discerning friend from foe when in the middle of her outbursts. As a side note, while she is a specialist at close range combat, she is also, like every Spartan, capable of using anything that can be considered a weapon with great mastery. Though she specializes in daggers, Energy Swords, pistols, shotguns, SMGs, BRs (though she prefers the the old type, DMR for some reason), and, unlike the rest, the Sniper. Another oddity of this mare is the fact that she is usually found standing on just her rear legs instead of all fours, unlike most other ponies do when not in a combat situation. Adding upon this is her apparent master of hand to hand combat...even though she possesses no hands. 

Preferred Weapons Set-up- Standard Issue Pistol, Standard Issue SMG, her own custom (and admittedly, out-of-regulation) Sniper Rifle, and Energy Sword. Standard issue combat knife.

**Side note— Let it be noted that research is currently in place to find ways of allowing control over her outbursts. We are attempting to provide a means of which her armor can work WITH her crazed mind, instead of against it, as she always removes her helmet for a currently unknown reason when losing her composure.\

--/Ryan Smith AKA "Ghost"

He acquired the nickname "Ghost" for multiple reasons, some, more morbid than others. For one, the previous holder of the title "Ghost" died preventing a Covenant armada from capturing prototype technology...even though he did so by destroying the entire facility...so, the name was, I guess, open for grabs...although it's not really a name one wants. Ryan took the name Ghost because of his apparent lack of the ability to feel. Whether this is a nervous disorder, or he is just very good at hiding feelings of pain, remorse, or fear, I cannot say, as he has never actually been tested for such disorders. While he is not emotionless, much like his sister (see: "Widow"), always showing the signs of a jokester and comedian, he is unfazed by scenes of death and horror...more reasons for his nickname is his "secret" for concealing his comms. stations, as well as scrambling any radar. As the communications controller for his Team, he perfected the act of quick and stealthy communication. None of his signals nor tech has been traced or captured unless he wanted it to...in fact, I think he hacked into the conversation I last had with Twilight...I ignored it, as I had no proof, and I actually admired him for doing so. Lastly, he's made both highly exceptional and very effective camo and hologram tech for his entire Team. Of course, he reserved only the best for himself, making him TRUELY an untraceable Ghost.

While combat isn't his forte, he is still an able soldier, like all ODSTs, yet he prefers to run recon. He will usually be manning a recon drone, or scanning the visuals through his entire team's headsets and vitals. I think he even hacked a nearby satellite to scan the area for his team, WITHOUT regulation, I may add. And as a side note...I remember his mentioning of an underground program he discovered called the "Freelancer" project which used similar tech to the Spartan program...I will have to approach the UNSC board about the matter later, see if this might become a problem.

Preferred Weapon Set-up- Thermal and Scope Enhanced Sniper Rifle, Standard issue Pistol with optional silencer, Standard issue SMG with optional silencer, and Standard issue combat knife.\

--/ E%ROR###& AKA "Rookie"

The new recruit, /ERR%O##\&, obviously received the name "Rookie" for being the newest member to Crimson Team. He was added to this team after being responsible for the deaths of his ENTIRE SQUAD for revealing their position after speaking up in a stealth situation. Somehow managing to be the single survivor, he has since spoken almost not one single word...funny, most new recruits tend to be this way, according to accounts received from Dare and Buck with their own Rookie. As to what exactly this Rookie excels at, it is unclear. Only just finishing basic training, and only undertaking ONE (failed) mission, he has not been assessed fully yet. In fact, if it wasn't for the intervention of the entire Crimson Team, he would have been court marshaled for his mistake...instead they made him join a squad of demons and hell-hounds. I actually hope he doesn't become like them, we need a more stable-minded soldier among Crimson's ranks...

This report will remain incomplete until $&/RRO%%'s capabilities are further examined...

//...closing Bios...

...error...

Search1ng for s0lution...//

//\\ALERT, FILES CORRUPT.\\//

ERRORS FOUND...LEAK IN PROGRESS\\

W4RN1N6!!! HACK 1N PR0_R3S5!!! TERM1NAT10N OF F1L3S R3QU1R3D!!!

--T3RM1N4T3?
--No
--Yes_

......................

...D3LET1_G...

D3LET1ON C0__L3hGdh$;$;)6lzkfbrpfæå
Dlflfldådpfkekwåwlfjgjfbfbsæwåqåwpwplwlwndnfbgngnglgæø................________________________________

-------------

...Years earlier...during the Fall of Equis...before the Spartan-IVs, before Crimson Team, before my death...there was just her. Alone, hiding amidst the rubble and corpse of her last connections to "sanity," while the Covenant prowled through the debris for any survivors, she sat. She sat huddled in the fetal position, trying to remain calm, trying desperately to retain her composure, to not reveal her position. This was probably the last time she was scared...she wasn't scared of dying, no...scared of losing it, losing HERSELF...but it was too late to prevent that, the Covenant had seen to that.

She huddled beside her deceased mother's charred corpse, blood trickling down her face from a cut made by a piece of debris hitting her upon the first attack. Her eyes were wide and dilated, darting around randomly while she whimpered and muttered quietly. She might have made it through the night like that if only the poor brute minor hadn't said one, single, sentence:

"Check behind that rubble for any survivors!"

Her body twitched, knowing full well that she would be found soon, but the shaking stopped, along with the incoherent muttering. As a couple brutes worked together to move the slab hiding her, the frown and scowl of fear slowly shifted to a grin, and her expression appeared to glow...in a demonic manner, of course. The brutes threw the block away, seeing the ebony mare standing on her back legs with her back to them.

They stared at her for a few moments, their brains starting to comprehend finding "fresh meat." Unfortunately for them, it wasn't HER that was going to be the fresh meat...

"Raw meat! I claim this one!" the brute on the right shouted, stepping closer to crush the small mare. She wasn't a young foal, but not quite a filly-grown mare, either...but looks can be deceiving!

As the large Brute towered over her, ready to break her spine with it'a powerful fists, something was clutched tight in her right hoof. As the ape-like soldier started to lower it's fists for the kill, the mare's body jolted alive and jumped up close, the attack missing. Upon landing, the mare sidestepped and spun, jabbing a shard of glass into the Brute's right eye, causing it to reel back in pain, shouting as half his vision went black while the other half went red.

"WAAAHHG! IT STABBED ME!" the brute cried in agony, it's partner beginning to reach for it's Spiker to fire at the surprisingly deadly mare.

She thought ahead, though, anticipating dealing with weapons. She dashed towards the wounded brute as the Spiker's pistons fired-up, the glowing yellow spikes lancing out at her and sticking into the walls and ground. The armed Brute, failing to pay attention, eventually riddled his partner with Spikes while he shot at the swift, ebony blur. He quickly ended the barrage as the severely wounded soldier fell to his face, gurgling sickeningly with a spike through it's neck. The remaining Brute cautiously approached the corpse, thinking that the mare had ended-up pinned underneath his dead companion. With the barrels aimed suspiciously at the cadaver, he started to nudge it over...but found nothing.

With his incompetent thinking, he suspected that the mare had escaped through a small hole in the rubble, so he holstered his Spiker and searched his dead partner for supplies. He suddenly jolted, though, as an intense and continuous pain rocketed from his thigh and foot while the sound of Spiker shots rang out. He was shoved over in pain to find that his entire right side, from the thigh down, was similar to that of a hedgehog and the ebony mare had taken his Spiker after firing it from in his holster.

For one of the first times in this Brute's life, he was scared. He had fought through humans, elites, Demons, and the Flood, never showing any signs of fear or inhibition...but this mare...the look in her, no...IT'S eyes as she raised the Spiker...she was the REAL demon.

"D...Gah...grrr" the Brute tried to shout for the other squad, but the pain was taking his breath and voice away, along with the fear, "Dem!....rreg, DEMON!"

The mare threw herself upon the Brute, proceding to bludgeon and mash it's chest and head with both the sharp and blunt end of the Spiker. The entire time, through the sounds of sickening mashes and squishes, one could hear the disturbing sound of steadily growing LAUGHTER.

-------------

A lone Skirmisher was sent in search of two Brute minors which had gone MIA and found it's way to the village it had helped decimate earlier. Sniffing, if caught the smell of fresh blood...and it was the blood of Brutes. Expecting the worst, it followed the scent trail until finding his way to a small enclosure of rubble where the mangled corpses of the two Brutes lay with the charred corpse of an adult mare in the back and a bloodied ebony mare, see ugly young, inside of a puddle of blood next to one of the Brutes. 

The Skirmisher determined the cause of death for the first Brute to be from the spike through it's neck, while the other was from repeated blows from something sharp to the chest and head. The burnt mare was obviously killed by a fire, and the last pony...was a mystery. As he examined the body, he found only a minor cut to the forehead. Leaning in close to get a better look, the Skirmisher suddenly took a whiff of something out of place: The blood pooled around her wasn't hers, it didn't smell like the blood of ponies...it was the blood of BRUTES.

Without any notice, the supposedly dead ebony mare sprang up, head-butting the Skirmisher and sending it sprawling onto it's back with a sever headache. After shaking the stars out, though, the battle-hardened, agile creature, rolled backwards and evaded being impaled by a Spiker. It looked up with a snarl only to cut himself off with a whimper upon seeing the ponies crazed face. Whatever she was, he wanted no part in dealing with her anymore. Her eyes showed nothing but pure insanity and sadism.

The Skirmisher turned and dove out of the rubble, quickly regaining his bearings and heading, full speed, back to his squad's encampment. Looking over his shoulder, he found the ebony demon chasing him on all fours, TWO Spikers strapped to her sides from the Brutes' holsters. The Skirmisher could barely hold ONE of those things, yet this mare was GAINING on him! Plus, if she was the one responsible for the death of those two Brutes...the Skirmisher put the thought out of it's head and pushed itself to run faster, hoping to make it back to his squad before he was caught.

Unfortunately, at the speed she was gaining, that would not he happening, and the Skirmisher knew this. Taking a drastic plan of action, the Skirmisher hopped and went into a powerful slide, turning sideways and pulling out it's Needler while activating the wrist-shields. He wasn't going down without a fight.

The mare saw the inevitable barrage of pink coming and quickly slid to a halt as well, then ducked low to avoid the needle as they sailed by, staring in awe at the beautiful pink trail they left. With both of them at a complete halt, they had no choice but to stare each other down. Of course, as the Skirmisher already had his finger on the trigger, the odds were favoring him. He could qickly riddle her with needles if she so much as twitched, if he wanted. The mare, though, didn't see it this way.

She slowly raised her stance, giving the Skirmisher a non-threatening stare as she reached for both Spikers. The Skirmisher was wary of her actions and started to depress the trigger, just in case. Thankfully, she removed her weapons and laid them on the ground, raising her hooves above her head with a curious stare. The Skirmisher returned it with a stare of confusion, especially when she brought her hooves into what looked like a fighting stance, putting a wry grin on yer lips. To top it off, she gestured for him to fight her.

The Skirmisher knew accepting this challenge was a bad idea...no, scratch that. A TERRIBLE idea...but...something told him to act otherwise as he tossed his Needler away and gave a chirp of acceptance, preparing himself for whatever the mare had to offer. Either he'd successfully fight her off here and return to his squad ad request to be sent home IMMEDIATELY, or he'd become her next meal...judging by the look of insane playfulness on the ebony mare's excited face...it was leaning more towards the second outcome.