David Clark

Name: David Aaron Clark (Born as John Moore)
Age: 47 (August 27th, 2505)
Race: Caucasian
Strengths: Covert-Operations, Close-Quarters Combat, qualified Combat-Medic
Weaknesses: Long-Range Combat
Role: None; formerly Project: ASSASSIN Candidate; ONI Special Warfare Detachment Two; UNSC 82nd Medical Division
Screenshot:
Theme song(s): Breaking Benjamin -- Lights Out
Insignia:
Current Location: Based on Chi Ceti IV
Current Status: Active
Biography:

/ANOMALY DETECTED/

/ACCESSING FILE>>D.CLARK/
/LOADING FILE...DONE/

David Aaron Clark -at that time known as [REDACTED] was born on the UNSC planet Eridanus II. He excelled academically as well as physically throughout the duration of his education. As his father was also in the UNSC, it was pushed onto him as a child to also enlist. So at the age of seventeen, with parent-consent, he enlisted into the UNSC Navy as a Corpsman.

After getting all the training, he was put into the 82nd Medical Division. The 82nd Medical Division often did operations for disaster-relief, rescuing downed pilots, etcetera. He was put into Fireteam Delta. He is most-widely known for a certain mission to rescue a group of civilian reporters trapped by the Covenant. Flown in by Falcon, the Falcon sustained plasma damage but finally went down due to a over-charged plasma pistol. The majority of the crew did not survive the crash, excluding Clark and co-pilot David Kestrel.

The two fled the downed Falcon in search of the nearby UNSC safehouse nearby, finding the media crew in time. Clark and Kestrel managed to hold off waves of Grunts and Jackals, allowing time for the media crew to be evacuated. Kestrel was killed in-conflict and Clark sustained injuries impossible to get to the Pelican in time. Over the next 72 hours, Clark made his way to the UNSC safehouse.

Upon returning to the nearby UNSC frigate, he was rewarded the Navy Cross and promoted to Petty Officer First Class. After his promotion, he was put on Leave for two years due to his injuries. After which he decided to retire from the Navy and settle down. Soon after retirement, however, he was offered a job as an ONI operator, despite his age. And, with his leadership experience, he commanded one of ONI's many black-ops units, this one in particular dealing with the insurgents while the SPARTANs handled the Covenant issues. This is when Clark changed his name to David Aaron Clark, officially, and faked his death. ONI officials declared he had been killed in a slipspace rupture.

The unit was dubbed the PATRIOT: Initiative (Primary Anti-Terrorist Regional & Interplanetary Operations Taskforce) and allowed the few chosen assets to eliminate the more radical of the insurgents with no red-tape, although operational deniability was a must. After three years of strenuous physical and mental training, Clark and his unit entered the field.

After years of successful operations, Clark and his team raided a warehouse suspected of arms-dealing to insurgents, only to find something else: a lab of rebel scientists conducting research to create the supposed perfect soldier. After reporting all they had found to HQ, all communications are lost. Clark and his team are abandoned, and have been betrayed. Holland and his team are captured and brought before a man.

After interrogation, Clark discovers his team attempted escape and had been killed in the process. Clark somehow manages escape, and goes into hiding for two years. ONI teams tried and tried again, finally succeeding in finding him and killing him as well, using him as the only ASSASSIN candidate to date. His team has been collected and put in cryo-tubes as possible second-generation ASSASSINs.

/ACCESSING FILE>>PRJCTS>>ASSASSIN/
/LOADING FILE...DONE/

Project: ASSASSIN (Armored Stealth and Special ASSault INfiltrator) was a project specifically designed for the revival of recently dead ONI operatives and, if proven successful, UNSC soldiers. It was based on a specific nutrient supply and temperature level. It also included the Project: CHRYSANTHEMUM treatment given to Noble Team. This process was proven successful with one of ONI's top-tier operators, David Clark. According to biological diagnostics, he actually operated better with this treatment and much, much less chemical augmentations necessary for SPARTAN-IIs.

A main component for the project was also a mind-control chip implanted in the brain, to ensure the subject did not stray for morally ambiguous reasons, and so ONI could make the operatives do virtually anything they asked. This chip was proved fault, however, and a Mk. II was put into development. Sadly, however, the first subject, David Clark, went AWOL before the Mk. II chip could be administered.

/ACCESSING FILE>>D.CLARK/
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/ACCESS EXT. 1/
/PASSWORD: ++++++/
/PASSWORD ACCEPTED/

[LOCATION: ELYSIUM CITY BANK; LOBBY CAMERA 1.]

[INAUDIBLE CHATTER AMONGST GUESTS. ZOOM ON TWO INDIVIDUALS IN LINE FOR BANK TELLER.]

[IDENTITY CHECK...DONE: ULYSSES AND JOHN MOORE.]

ULYSSES: I'm proud of you, John. Following in my footsteps and enlisting in the UNSC.

[Ulysses and John smile.]

JOHN: Thanks, Dad. Wasn't a hard choice.

[Ulysses and John approach bank-counter.]

ULYSSES: I'd like to make a deposit, please.

BANK-TELLER: Of course. How much would you like to deposit, Ulysses?

ULYSSES: Three-thousand credits.

[Ulysses hands over credits.]

BANK-TELLER: Very well. The credits are in your account. Thank you and have a nice day!

[Ulysses and John walk towards exit; switch to Camera-Two.]

[Camera-Two; four subjects approach John and Ulysses. Subject in rear pulls out M6G PDWS. Fires two shots into air.]

Rear: This is a hold-up! Stay down and no one gets hurt!

[Chatter stops. Several screams, all bank patrons drop to the floor.]

[Sirens sound outside. Lead subject laughs.]

Lead: This city won't even deploy an actual team yet? It has to resort to a soundboard?

[Lead looks to John.]

Lead: You, come here! On your knees and hands in the air!

[John obeys silently, Ulysses watches with wide eyes.]

[Lead presses a M6G to John's forehead.]

Lead: If you refuse to take us seriously, then I guess we have to wa--

[John twists M6G to the user's head, pulls trigger once. Grabs M6G and fires head-shot to rear subject. Both subjects drop.]

[Two remaining subjects reach for their M6Gs in pockets. John fires one more shot to the remaining subjects. They drop.]

[John field-strips the M6G, tosses pieces to the corpses.]

[Police break door down, point two DTM/Law Enforcement Shotguns at John. John puts hands in air.]

[Crowd rises and cheers. Police escort John and Ulysses outside for questioning; Switch to Front Camera 1]

[Front Camera 1; Police escort John and Ulysses past media and clapping bystanders. Hauled into private-investigator car and driven away.]

/END FILE./

/ACCESSING FILE>>D.CLARK/
/LOADING FILE...DONE/
/ACCESS EXT. 2/
/PASSWORD: +++++/
/PASSWORD ACCEPTED/

John sat in the Falcon, inbetween his fellow squadmates that filled the entire Falcon and the pilot. He leaned forward to see where they were--Arcadia. It had been under invasion by the Covenant. The SPARTANs had the job of fighting the Covvies, and their job was to exfiltrate with one of the brave media-crews that wanted to get a look at the invaders up-close.

Apparently, the crew had taken refuge somewhere in Pirth City, at least three people. And no doubt they'd want to get footage of the battle. He respected that, but found it to be rather stupid of a choice. He was already a little steamed that the SPARTANs would get all the credit for the victory, if there was one. As it usually went. Just as he finished that thought, he felt heat above him--plasma fire, no doubt. Just as he was done cursing under his breath, he felt a sudden rising of his stomach. He instantly grabbed onto something, anything, so he wouldn't fly out. They must've hit the Falcon with an overcharged plasma bolt. He knew people this had happened to, but only a small portion lived to tell of their experiences. Then instantly, pain. The Falcon crah-landed and slid on the hard ground.

He was relieved that he coulf feel pain, and this was a precedent. At least he knew that he was alive. He opened his eyes and looked around, everyone wasn't moving, and had been bent at an awkward position. He was lucky that he had been sitting in the middle, if he wasn't he surely would've suffered the same fate. He groaned loudly and rose carefully, grabbing an assault rifle and a handgun, climbing out of the Falcon. He placed his handgun into his thigh holster and decided to check the cockpit and see if the pilot had survived the crash--which he had. He opened the sealed doors and helped the pilot out, rushing to grab another assault rifle for the pilot.

"Might need that...Name's John." John mustered a smirk that was obviously fake.

The pilot returned the smirk, "Greg. Still up to find that media-crew?"

John nodded, and the two ducked almost simultaneously. A few Grunts had found their way to the crash-site, John and Greg quickly returned fire with several short bursts, just like they'd been taught. Greg sprinted over to some cover, and John sheepishly followed, looking around for more hostiles, and finding none.

"Pirth City isn't too far from here...But I'll be damned if the Covvies haven't already found the media crew." Greg sighed, and rose, running to where he was told the media crew would be. Again, John followed, making sure to keep a close-eye out for anything that looked like it was hostile.

After an hour or two of running, only running into one or two squads with Grunts and Jackals, they came across the stronghold that the media-crew had been in. And sure enough, the whole damned building had been overrun with Grunts and Jackals. -Which, in John's opinion, looked more like birds-

"John, I've got an idea...Your comm-link on?" John nodded. "Okay..I'm gonna go around out back, let's do a classic breach-and-clear. Flashbangs in, follow behind shortly after and take out anything in there that's not a hostage. Got it?" John nodded and pressed his back against the nearby wall, grabbing a flashbang out of his pouch, dropping his rifle and letting it swing on his sling.

"John, you copy?" Yeah, Greg. Loud and clear." "Okay, on three. One, two..." John opened the door a bit, tossing the flashbang in and closed it, Greg was behind by a split-second. "Three." With that the flashbangs exploded, and the several Grunts and Jackals in the room were blinded, John opened the door, spraying every Grunt and Jackal he could see with a three-round burst, Greg did the same. The hostiles all dropped and the media-crew stayed down. John and Greg set their assault rifles to safety.

"It's alright, we're here to save you." John expected this, but the media-crew was quiet. He couldn't remember them saying anything, actually. Without saying another word, everybody awkwardly shuffled outside, taking out the several Grunts outside the building.

It took no time at all to get to the rally point, even closer to the safehouse. John opened fire upon the oncoming squads of Grunts while Greg phoned UNSC High-Command, confirming that they had saved the media-crew. Greg also informed HC of the anomaly that happened with the Falcon. Greg got off the phone and assisted John with suppressing fire. Just as he rose, however, John ducked to reload, and Greg took several bursts of plasma-fire, and even a needle from one of the Grunts needlers, he felll instantly, eyes closed. Greg looked over to the horror and almost wept, rising and eliminating the remaining targets. He couldn't weaken in front of the crew, who had more than likely already lost hope. John grabbed Greg's dog-tags, pulling them off and pocketing them, and the evacuation Pelican came down, without waiting, the media-crew ran out to it, scrambling onto it. John rose to get on and took some plasma fire. He dropped also, screaming in agony, "We have to go! LZ's too hot! But we'll come back for you, don't worry!" Someone who he didn't recognize promised him.

The Pelican left and John tossed a grenade, and combined with the plasma grenades literring the floor, eliminated every last Grunt. Immediately after, he grabbed his rifle and sprinted for the nearby UNSC safehouse, repeating the same process of eliminating every last Grunt and Jackal patrol he came across. Over the next seventy-two hours, John held off platoon after platoon of Grunts and Jackals, being lucky and not even sighting a single Elite.

After those seventy-two hours, John was medically treated and was rewarded with the Navy Cross, the second-highest award in the Navy, and was promoted to Captain. The videos that the media-crew had captured of the two Marines in-action had been put onto the news, and a film-producer was talking to John about turning his experiences into a film, but since John had been 'killed', the film was shortly cancelled.

/END FILE/

((For Future Reference:))

It takes data from multiple viewing modes -thermal, night vision, etcetera- and puts them on an integrated overlay. The visor itself is comprised of the same material used to make current MJOLNIR visors, the silver variant, with a coating on it, and photosensitive crystals embedded into it, for detecting temperature, sniper lasers, etcetera. Not to mention said coating also adapts to optimum viewing in different lighting, automatically. -David, referring to a new HUD/Visor system in-development