PRENOTE: I posted this in another new thread just to ensure people would see it. I will try to post it in the main Fall of the Spartans thread eventually.

This next part is shorter than the rest, but sort of fixes the "descriptive dialogue" issue. It's mostly setting up for future story elements, no real action here. Read on!

EDIT: Accidentally had Part 4 up for about a second or two. If somehow, you read it during that time, lucky you. The others will have to wait 2 weeks to a month. Should be fixed now. Go ahead and read Part 3.
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217,217,217.

Clyde stood up after wiping the sand away from the final number. He turned towards the Elite.

“I understand your pain, human.” The Elite knelt down and inspected the numbers. He began to wipe the sand away from the Spartan’s helmet.

“No you don’t. You don’t know how much I cared for Cassie.” Clyde’s voice was breaking up, and he sniffed every once and a while. The Elite could tell he was crying inside of his helmet. “We were so close. If only whatever shot us could’ve waited a few days longer, maybe we would’ve had something special.”

“Would you really want that?” The Elite stood up and faced Clyde. “If something did happen between you too, you would most likely feel a lot worse than you do now.”

Clyde sniffed. “You’re right. Maybe everything would be better, if I hadn’t ever met Cassie at all.”

He knelt down next to the Spartan and took his helmet off. Holding his head up, Clyde inspected the Spartan’s face.

“Do you know who he is?” The Elite asked.

“No, no I don’t. I hope I just never met him, I really don’t want to have to deal with amnesia or anything.” Clyde stood up and turned towards the Elite. “Do you think we could send one of those bus things over here?”

“You mean a transport bus? Of course, I’ll call for one.” The Elite walked away from the two Spartans.

Clyde turned back towards the Spartan. He did remember the Spartan lying on the ground, but not well enough to place a name yet.

“Maybe I’ve seen him in the shooting range.” Clyde turned away from the Spartan, trying to forget about him, but he turned back. There was something about him that he remembered, only he couldn’t remember what.

A soft noise was heard, which quickly grew into a loud noise. A purple Covenant transport bus had arrived from one of the local bases. Two Elites hopped off the side of the bus and approached the Elite, now returning to Clyde.

“We have arrived. What would you like us to transport, sir?” The two Elites bowed in front of the other. Clyde took notice of this.

“We found another Spartan. Take him back to my outpost, we’ll take a look at him from there.” The Elite pointed at Spartan 217.

“Yes sir.” The two Elites walked over to the Fallen Spartan and picked him up. They placed him in the transport bus and hopped in the side. The other Elite followed. He signaled for Clyde to hop on.

“I’ll be right there!” Clyde turned back to the sand. He saw the hole in which the Spartan had crashed in. He knelt down and placed his finger in the sand. He began to draw a number.

217.

He stood up and turned towards the transport. He slowly walked over to it and took a seat. The transport turned clockwise and drove straight ahead for about three minutes.

The transport abruptly stopped at the outpost. The Elites hopped off, and Clyde did as well. The two Elites that arrived on the transport bus picked up the Spartan and placed him in the hands of two other Elites, Elites from the outpost. The transport left with the Elites. The other Elites, now holding the Spartan, entered the outpost and placed him in a medical room. Clyde and the other Elite followed.

“Elite?”

“Yes Spartan?”

“What is your name?” Clyde turned towards him and tilted his head slightly.

“Voro' Chonchiyo. You may call me Voro.” He turned away from Clyde and approached the table in which Spartan 217 was lying on. Clyde followed.

Two more Elites approached the table. Voro turned to them. “Sork, is there any way to ensure that this human is alive?”

“The human is alive. You can even see him breathing. We are just going to fix up some of his wounds, and then we will wait for him to awaken.” Sork dabbed a cloth in some water and rubbed the wet cloth on a bloody patch right on the side of the Spartan’s neck.

“He may not awaken for another day or two. We will inform you when he does awaken.” The other Elite said before returning to another table, grabbing some liquids.

“Very well. It is getting late. We have to prepare for tomorrow,” Voro turned towards Clyde when he said this.

“What is happening tomorrow?” Clyde asked.

“The storm is expected to approach tomorrow. We need to prepare. Get some rest, be up at dawn. The storm will arrive midday, and the entire morning will be spent on preparation,” Voro told the Spartan as he exited the room.

Clyde exited the room as well and opened the door to a nearby room. The door had a note on it that said ‘For Clyde.’ He entered the room to find a large, clean bed and a bathroom. It was like a hotel room.

“Zeta, do you know what he means by the storm? I can’t imagine we are preparing for a real storm.” Clyde sat down.

“Nope, I have no idea. I would help them if I were you. They may help you in the long run.”

“I was planning on it. Good night Zeta.” Clyde placed his hands on his helmet.

“It’s been a hell of a night. Good night Clyde.” Zeta powered down for the night, and Clyde took his helmet off, along with the rest of his armor. He lifted up the sheets of his bed and slid right in. The bed was warm and comfortable. He needed the sleep after such a long night.

His eyes slowly shut.