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I decided to write my own Halo book. I dunno if any of you read the Halo novels. They're pretty good. I decided to write my own, and I'm going to make this a all-writers story, since, many of you like Halo. If you don't, you shouldn't be interested in this.
Here goes...

The Pelican swerved, and those onboard had to brace uncomfortably. The pilot onboard yelled an apology over the roaring engines. Sergeant Johnson grabbed a cross brace, and looked backwards, at the Spartan, and the two armored UNSC Specialist Marines. "We're going to land at the D.C. Plaza. But don't expect a warm welcome! They're all over the place, those little critters!"
Their mission was to neutralize a whole legion of Covenant, make their way to the Covenant destroyer, and plant a big fat bomb in the gravity lift. The destroyer would get a thirty megaton early birthday present.
"How many Covenant are there near the landing pad? We need to neutralize all of them before we can plant the bomb!"Cortana asked.
"Recon has provided us with information. They have at least a couple stationary rapid-fire cannons, backed up by mortar tanks, and Ghosts."
The Master Chief stood up. "Who made first contact?"
Johnson looked back at him. "We don't know...apparently, they both destroyed each other at the same time."
The specialist marines prepped their armor, communications, and weapons. The radio crackled. "The LZ is hot, I repeat, hot!"
The pilot sighed."Well...it's your call, Sarge."
Johnson pointed at the nearing landing zone. "We're goin' in."
The Pelican touched down, the ramp hissed down, and the Master Chief gripped his weapon, and jumped down. The pathway ahead lead right, and down a ramp. He passed two Helljumpers supporting each other. They tried to keep their voice down, but the Mark V MJOLNIR armor had enough audio equipment to hear what they were whispering.
"I must be seeing things!"
"Guess the brass do give a shit."
The Master Chief was the last of the Spartans, and they were probably suprised that the UNSC would sent a Spartan, a super-soldier.

He passed the rest & recovery area, and saw a private that had lost a leg. His commanding officer was with him, trying to calm him down.
"C'mon, son, you're gonna be just fine. We're gonna get you to the Navy Docs. They're gonna patch you up...imagine, warm meals, bunks, showers..and about two meters of titanium-A between you and the enemy..."
The Spartan passed them, jogged through a bloodstained asphalt walkway, and approached the secondary C.O. In his heads-up display was the insignia of a Corporal. "CPR. Williams, C." flashed up.
"What's your status here, corporal?"
The marine swallowed. "It's a mess, sir...we've lost half the unit already, and Lieutenant Davies is pinned down by the Bay Secondary Parking Causway...I'll take you to him, sir."
Corporal Williams set off at a fast trot, up through a plasma-scorched building. Two PFC's were firing at the Covenant below with chainguns.
"I'm running out over here, man!"
"Yeah, aren't we all?" The second private said skeptically.
Williams gestured through the next doorway, and up ahead was Lieutenant Davies, crouched down behind the wall gable. He was nursing a slight plasma burn on his left shoulder. He raised his eyebrow at the sight of the Master Chief.
"I radioed top brass for reinforcements...didn't think they'd send a Spartan." He murmured. Davies craned his neck to look upwards. Perched on a rooftop was a new weapon. The Cheif noted that it looked like a Shade, a stationary plasma cannon, but fired exactly like a mortar tank. The next globe of plasma exploded against the two chainguns that the privates had been firing. The Spartan made to move towards the cannon, but Davies waved him down.
"Don't worry...the heavy fighters are on it already." As they watched, two Longsword GSA-IV's swooped down out of the west, and bombarded the mortar cannon with missles. The cannon toppled.

NOTE FROM AUTHOR-All those who read this...please give me a review. I haven't had one yet, and i'm in need of a bit of advice.

The Spartan crept to the edge of the parapet, and ducked immediately, as globes of glowing green plasma crackled past him. One hit the edge of the parapet, and sprayed the Chief with molten glass. He drew out a frag grenade, flicked the arming pin, and hurled it below. The squeals of the Covenant Grunts stationed there, however, drowned out the explosion.
On the other side, there was an abandoned chain-cannon, and he made good use of it. There were many Jackals and even more Grunts below. The grunts went down rather quickly, but the Jackals brought up their shields. The Chief swore, and shouldered the new Battle Rifle, issued a couple of weeks ago by the spooks in the Intelligience Department, otherwise known as ONI. There was considerably less bullets per clip that the MA5B, but the bullets were of a higher caliber, and the Spartan hoped that they would be good enough.
He squeezed the trigger a couple times. The nearest Jackal's shield flickered and died out. He switched to automatic, and blasted the Jackal backwards and was very riddled and very dead , by the time the Chief was finished firing. A frag grenade took care of three, and the Spartan emptied his clip on the last Jackal. Once the area was neutralized, the Chief strode forward, and was stopped by Davies.
"Here, you'd better take my weapon...it doesn't look like it'll do me any good." He handed the Spartan a pair of rapid-fire submachine guns. "They piss through ammo pretty darned fast, but it's well worth it." Five clips for each SMG followed.
The Master Chief jogged down the ramp. Another Jackal sprang out of hiding, and fired. The Chief sidestepped, but the wash of the plasma pushed his shield out to half. Another direct hit would kill him.
Before the Jackal's weapon could regenerate, the Chief battered the shield aside, opened fire. The ammo drained rapidly, but after about a second, the Jackal was no more than a pile of mangled flesh and shattered bone.

Hmm...the only problem I have so far is that sentence where he kills the Jackal. I'd write it more like this, in two sentences...



No other critiquing.

Or even without any commas there.

But it is a very good story!

Thank you guys, your advice has been taken. However, I could not edit it, beacuse the fifteen minute time limit has long elapsed.

He strode through to a deserted parking bay. A raised ramp led down to the ground level, where a couple of Jackals were idling around. One of them was shot, but the others quickly formed a line, crouched behind their shields. The Spartan swore, and unslung the Battle Rifle. He was flat out of grenades, which meant he had to clear them out the hard way.
The rifle kicked against his shoulder a couple of times, and the nearest wrist-propped shield died. Its owner was cut down, and the rest complied with a salvo of plasma bolts. One came so close to the Chief that it pushed his shielding to half. At this rate, it looked like he would run out of bullets before he could kill them all.
The Master Chief's prayers were answered as a pair of outfitted Warthogs screeched down the ramp at the opposite end, and smashed the Jackals down. One was in need of a gunner, and the Chief gladly strapped himself onto the back.
The Warthog's 50-mm chaingun had been replaced with a rack of Argent-V Missiles. ONI hadn't had the time to add the homing function, but it worked just fine, as he blew apart a Ghost.
Two pairs of Ghosts, one from the side street, the other from the alley, pelted up. They sprayed the twin 'Hogs with plasma fire, but only half of the initial burst slagged the side door, and the Chief cursed and fired two rockets at them.
One hit its mark, and the other found its way into a half-full gasoline tank, and engulfed two Ghosts in its fiery embrace. The last one was unceremoniously ran over, and slammed into a pile of rubble.
The two 'Hogs split up, and the Chief flew down another ramp. Just then, a Brute leaped down from the Adjacent building, and landed smack-dab on the hood of the LRV. The Warthog swerved violently, and with a single swipe, the Brute killed the passenger and the driver.
It made for the Chief, but he yanked on the quick-release strap and went tumbling onto the hand concrete. The Brute jumped down from the Warthog, and made for him. Another Ghost drove at him from the right.
There was no way he could neutralize them both.

This was not acceptable for the Chief. The playing field needed to be evened out. He took in the situation in, as best as he could.
He dodged aside before the Brute could make a move. The Ghost had slowed down, but had not taken a shot. Before the Elite driving could squeeze the trigger, the Spartan had leaped onto the fuselage of the Ghost. He struck two uppercuts to the head of the Elite, who snarled, and let go of the controls.
The Master Chief gripped the edge of the dashboard, and the seat, and booted the Elite right out of the Ghost. He took its place at the controls.
He had piloted Covenant vehicles before, including this one, he swerved the Ghost into a wide strafing turn, and hosed the Brute with a half-dozen bursts of plasma, who howled in agony, his guts having had burned completely through.
He sped through a street, marked with advertising billboards. "Phantoms! above us...look out!"Cortana said. He swerved violently, and plasma lashed down either side of him, slagging the concrete.
Phantoms were teardrop shaped, and was a smaller version of the Seraph. They were designed as ground support, and the Covenant had bothered to use them only lately...when Earth was in danger of being annihilated.
John drove under another billboard, and through a darkened part of the street. Cortana placed a nav marker on his HUD, and he turned left, down yet another ramp, and through a sloping tunnel.
"This highway's unauthorized for us! It's closing in!" Cortana told him.
"Relax, just hang on." He picked up speed, and sped straight at the end of the tunnel, the mechanical walls starting to shut automatically. At first, it looked like they were going to make it through unscathed, but the Ghost's windshield and stubby wing caught on the steel doors, and the Spartan was bowled right through, and skidded for roughly thirty meters, churning sparks.
"This is it...we're here,"Cortana informed him."Wait for Delta team to arrive, they should probably be here soon..." Her voice trailed off, and John looked up. Hundreds of Covenant landing pods, glowing from the atmospheric friction, were dotting the sky, leaving brilliantly-colored entrails of bright orange.
Six landed near him, and Elites stepped out. He was surrounded. The Chief took out the SMGs, trying to keep them from his blind side.
The Elites, baring fangs in anticipation, activated their melee weapons of choice.

Cortana muttered. "How are you going to worm out of this one? Your odds of survival are so low-"
"We'll see about that." He drew a stolen plasma grenade, ignited it, and lobbed it at the nearest Elite. It struck true, stuck to the warrior's headgear. The Elite roared in suprise, and tried to tear off its helmet, but the grenade went off, and vaporized everything from the torso-up. The others scrambled away from the dead Elite, and swung the plasma blades at the Chief, and ducked away. His shields were dead, there was no more grenades, and he was outnumbered.
His first trainer, Chief Petty Officer Mendez, had trained him in the art of disarming, and sword fighting. The Spartans had spent countless hours in the Dojo arena, practicing with wooden rods. Now was the time to put that skill to use.
The closest Elite slashed horizontally, intending to lift the Chief's head from his shoulders. The Spartan was too quick, ducked, and put a quick SMG burst into its chest. The Elite's shields went out, and the Master Chief grabbed its sword arm, and swung it around, just as another Elite stabbed.
He forcefully flung the dead Elite from him, which knocked another two from their feet, and turned to the standing one, with plasma sword in hand. It backed off slightly.
The Spartan had never before wielded a plasma sword. It, when held straight, pointed outwards from his hand, like a wristblade. It was long, and rather light. His training made it clear though: "Adapt or die."
He did just that, swinging the blade around, to get the feel of it. Its balance was flawless, and weighed nothing. Before the other could attack, he slashed downwards, narrowly missing its bloated head.
The Elite swung in kind. Plasma swords were not meant to deflect each other, so the Chief dropped the submachine gun, grabbed the Elite's sword arm, broke it, and slashed it across the gut. It howled, and the Chief whirled around, just in time.
The closest of the remaining Elites tried chopping at him, but the Spartan sidestepped, and swung the dead Elite. It bowled the Elite over, and the Chief stabbed downwards.
He now had plasma blades in both hands. The last Elite hesitated, and the Master Chief wasted no time, and stabbed with both blades, deep into its head and chest.
The whole battle had not taken more than five minutes, but it left him breathless, and twitchy, and Cortana knew. He was still alive, and that was what mattered. The Spartan crouched behind a dark pillar, and waited for Delta team to arrive.

AUTHOR'S NOTE---Okay, you know how I said that the Chief(John)was the only remaining Spartan? I just finished reading First Strike, again, and there's two other Spartans that come to Earth. Fred(Less hardcore version of John), and Linda(The elegant sniper).


--Chapter Two--

Sergeant Amy Anderson had been in the UNSC Corps long enough to know that this situation was resting on the edge of a knife. Her squad, Delta, had the duty to transport a thirty megaton bomb to the rendevous point, where a Spartan and a Class One AI was supposedly waiting. Well, thiry megatons was one heck of a lot to carry, and much more than a normal outfitted 'Hog, or Pelican Dropship could bear. So she arranged for a heavy hauler to carry the ordnance, along with a Scorpion MBT, a Longsword fighter, and four Warthogs loaded with Marines for an escort.
They were forced to take the long way around, since about a thousand Covenant waited for them down the middle of the D.C. African Protectorate.
Things went okay, other than a rather annoying Wraith Covenant tank found their position, and started walking huge blue fireballs towards their position. Fortuantely for them, it hadn't found the range yet.
Anderson screamed for the Longsword fighter to take it out, before the plasma set off the bomb in the hauler. It banked, dodged Shade fire, and bombarded the mortar tank with rockets. It belched smoke, and a dazed Elite popped the hatch, crawled out, and as cut in half by the ensuring fire from the Warthogs.
"Where's the waypoint?" She yelled at the driver. He shrugged, stomped on the accelerator, and the 'Hog lurched forwards. Amy Anderson knew that the RV point was somewhere to the north, past the Bay Underground passage. The problem was that there were too many Covenant troops there to make it even the long way.
The LRV stopped, and the Sergeant was about to reprimand the driver when she saw the path ahead.

Every inch of it was packed with Covenant. Elites, Grunts, Jackals, even a group of Brutes and Hunters were present.
Anderson's mouth went dry.
The MBT driver, Corporal Linsk, broke in through the COM. "Sarge? What's your suggestion on this one?"
She unstuck her tongue."Okay... we're going to plow a hole through this bunch.You go first, Linsk. Two Warthogs will follow. We can't let the bomb get into the filthy hands of the Covenant. The haulers going to go next. Romeo three and four(she gestured towards the back Warthogs) will follow up. Clean up everything we started....On my mark. Godspeed, and good luck. Anderson out."

The Elites turned. They were noticed.
"Now!"Anderson screamed. "Go, go, go!"
The Scorpion fired at a Wraith mortar tank, which stuttered, and smashed into a building. The machine gun opened up, and sprayed the Covenant with thunderous fire.
Amy felt her 'Hog lurch, and race forwards. She had an MA5B Assault Rifle, which sprayed carnage indiscriminately in her path. Several bumps followed, as her driver promptly ran over a group of Jackals, and burped chunks out the back.
She paused to reload, and chanced a glance back. The convoy was doing well, due to the element of suprise. Another shell left the MBT's main cannon, and smashed into a Shade.
One of the Wraiths managed to fire, and a blue white comet arched the distance, and began to fall. "Hard le-"
Anticipating the order, her driver swerved, and caused the Sergeant to sway perilously. The plasma bomb landed. Anderson couldn't see who had made it through. One Warthog roared through. Then two more. And then, like two miracles on high-speed Meteora treads, the hauler and Linsk flew through the haze, smashing into a pair of gold Elites. The escort and convoy was almost through the wall of Covenant, and the Warthog gunners were starting to turn sideways, in order to engage the enemy. Suddenly, an Elite landed on the Warthog's hood.

~NOTE: Kelly is alive as well.
Yo! Good story.
Writing one m'self....but to publish...
Keep going....~

Yep, I had a feeling that someone might say that. However, only Linda and Fred come to Earth, while Kelly(the speed demon and deadshot) is whisked away on some weird mission by Dr.Halsey, their only "mother" figure. Too bad eh? Kelly would've been useful on Earth.

~Still, 's a good story your writing.~

Apparently, Will's alive as well. He escaped the "Unyielding Heirophant" with Linda, Fred, and John. Kelly's on some "secret mission". Grace gets killed by brutes, Li and Anton get vaporized, Isaac and Vinh are ripped to pieces. Shame, isn't it? There you have nine Spartans...almost one-third of the original squad. Then five of them get killed in two days.

~What about Sam....~

Sam's dead. Remember? He got blown up. Sacrificed himself. Poor him. He was the strongest Spartan. You read Fall of Reach yet?

~Well, they never found his body....
*Wink wink*~

Right. Well, this IS a story forum. This was a nice discussion, but if you really want to continue, I suggest you post your own thread. I'm going to try and continue the next part of this story this afternoon.

Time seemed to slow, as the Elite raised its plasma rifle. Anderson didn't think; she just reacted, and slammed the butt of her rifle into the Elite's knee. That action saved her life, as the Elite teetered, and the energy blast discharged harmlessly.
Her driver noticed the Elite's situation, and yanked the wheel hard to the left. The Elite fell off with a yowl of rage, and Anderson empied her clip into its face.
Amazingly, the convoy made it through safely, although passengers were missing from Romeo Warthog units one and two. "Full speed." She ordered over the SQUADCOM. The sergeant pinged her navigation marker, and a red-orange triangle appeared in her heads-up display.
"Turn left bearing two ninety, and drive straight. Keep your eyes open, soldiers, this ain't a milk run." The Longsword swooped out in front of them. "R.V. point clear." The pilot reported.
They drove another few minutes, and ended up near the causeway. Anderson ordered everyone to halt, and the soldiers get out of their vehicles, except for Linsk, the 'Hog gunners, and the Longsword, designated Knife Three-Eight. She made sure her weapons were loaded, and stepped forward.

The first thing that Anderson noticed was a large number of Elites, dead. It looked like they were slashed, and stabbed, rather than shot. One corpse had only a waist, if you could call it that, and legs.
Two privates, with Battle Rifles, approached, and covered her six.
Suddenly, a pair of plasma swords ignited, and the marines instinctively leveled their weapons. However, the sergeant signalled them to stand down.
Master Chief Petty Officer SPARTAN-117 stepped out from the shadows. When he confirmed their identity, he deactivated the swords.
"Sergeant," He said."Got that ordnance?"
Anderson jerked her thumb over her shoulder. "Back there, sir. In the hauler. Most of the convoy made it through."
Cortana piped in through the helmet's external speakers. "We'll need an aircraft to board the gravity lift. If we're lucky, we might be able to capture one of the Phantoms..."
"No need," Anderson interrupted. "We have one intact Longsword GSA-IV, but it'll need a suitable place to put down. Where's the nearest open space?"
"Scanning topographic and residential maps," Cortana said."There's a bit of an empty street two hundred meters to the west. It might be a bit of a tight squeeze, though, for landing."

Anderson shrugged. "Our pilot can handle it. You know what the pilots are like in these corps...mercury for blood, and nerves of steel."
The Chief surveyed what was left of the convoy. "I don't suppose you'll be heavy with an extra passenger."
"Of course not, sir."
"Tell your squad to lock and load. We move out in ninety seconds."
"Sir!"She saluted, and broadcast the message over the COM.
John found a spare Warthog, with a driver, and gunner. He strode up to the gunner."C'mon down, Private. You're sitting shotgun. I'll man the rocket launcher."
The Private looked less than happy to be rid of a heavy weapon, but he saluted, and jumped into the passenger seat.
"Cortana, copy the co-ordinates, and upload them to everyone's HUD." John said. As soon as he finished his order, a NAV marker appeared.
"Way ahead of you." Cortana remarked.
The Chief gestured towards Sergeant Anderson, who recognized the signal. "Let's move out, people!" She yelled.

CHAPTER THREE-----

They arrived at the rendevous point without delay, or opposition. That was strange, since New Mombasa was crawling with Covenant uglies.
The Longsword was waiting for them, ramp down. Her pilot was inside, drinking a shot of old whiskey.
John walked up to him, and said,"Warrant Officer, you know that drinking's prohibited. Stop it."
The pilot, which was named Warrant Officer Chris Folensky, shrugged. "These ain't normal times anymore, Chief. Who gives a damn, anyway?"
The Chief said nothing, but he was thinking the same. However, he turned toward the other vehicles, and Anderson. "Cortana's going to help Folensky here fly this thing."
"Sir?" She frowned.
He explained."Cortana is going to take a ride in the Longsword here. She's going to help Folensky out with the navigation . The Longsword will distract them, hopefully their fighters...it'll buy us time enough."
The Master Chief opened up a private COM channel to Cortana. "Trust me in this, Cortana. If things grow nasty, plug yourself in, and take over the steering wheel. Contact us if you're successful. And come back in one piece."
"Right...you realize this is the second time you've sent me ahead to do your 'dirty' work for you?"
John smiled at her quip, and pulled her service chip out of his Interface slot. He handed it to Folensky, who ran up the ramp, breezed through the preflight checks, and started the engines.
The Spartan turned to the rest. "Get a few minutes rest, but stay on guard, reload your guns, and keep your eyes open."

After a while, Cortana's voice broke in over the COM. "Okay, Master Chief. Rest assured they are distracted, and pissed."
John frowned."What did you do, exactly?"
Cortana laughed."Blew up their 'Field Master', and a couple of unintelligent Hunters. Oh, and destroyed one of their wraiths."
"Couldn't have done better myself." He made a couple of hand signals to the rest, and they jumped aboard their various vehicles. The Chief manned Romeo Three's rocket pods. "Cortana, can you-"
"Way ahead of you." A NAV marker appeared in his head-up display.
"Did you transfer it to the others?"
"Of course."
John closed the COM channel, and called to the other soldiers. "You know where to drive, people. Let's move!" His vehicle lurched, the tires caught the cement, and the rest of the convoy followed.

After a while, the Chief spotted a few purple dots. He let go of the rocket dispenser with one hand, pointed to his faceplate, and made a bat-like shape. Enemy aircraft detected. He wiggled his fingers, and extended them straight outwards, palm facing out. Scatter formation.
The vehicles obeyed. John's 'Hog drifted to the right. Amy Anderson's vehicles fell behind and did the same. Linsk remained in the centre, the hauler fell behind, and Romeo Two sped up, overtaking the rest of the convoy.
There was no way that they would remain undetected by the Covenant Phantoms. Their sensors were just too damned advanced.
Sure enough, half of the Phantoms split up and advanced towards the convoy, while half pursued a small, fast, triangular dot. Without a doubt, he knew it was Cortana.
Within seconds, the Phantoms closed the distance, and opened fire.

Author's Note-SPOILER ALERT! For those who have read all the Halo novels, remember how Linda was brought "back to life"? I'm bringing someone back from the dead later, as well. I'll leave you to guess who it is.

A plasma bolt the length of his height sizzled past his head by a couple feet. Nevertheless, his sheilding flashed and was gone. The audible alarm shrieked, and his helmet visor automatically darkened to protect his eyes from the flare.
From their accuracy and strategic formation, John could assume that the Phantom pilots were not rookies.
From his left peripheral vision, he could see Anderson's vehicle, in which the Helljumper riding shotgun was swearing, and shouldered a Jackhammer rocket launcher. The driver saw what he was doing, and stopped swerving. Anderson was manning the chaingun on the back, which was sometimes jokingly referred to as "Olde Faithful".
The Spartan fired the Anvil II missle pods, and three missles streaked towards a Phantom, which turned to the right quickly. One missile missed, but the other two impacted. The first missle slammed into the side, and its shields winked out. The other hit a split second later, right into the Phantom's engines, and the aircraft was engulfed in a ball of fire. Shards of debris rained down behind them.
John's COM crackled. It was Cortana. "Chief, from what I am able to calculate from the rate of fuel consumption, I estimate that I have seventeen point two eight minutes of fuel left, before I have to land this bird. Whatever it is you're cooking up, I hope you have time left."
"Don't worry, the mission'll be over in approximately fifteen from now. Anyways, you're just a diversion, remember? Just draw them off long enough for us to place it in the grav lift. In seventeen minutes, we're either successful, or dead."

The Chief's Warthog swerved, and he was jerked against his harness. He looked to his left, and saw Anderson's 'Hog fishtail, straighten, and speed up. A Jackhammer missle shrieked out of the launcher the passenger was holding, and smacked into their target Phantom. The aircraft in question shuddered, and its shields went out. In that critical few seconds, the Phantom slowed down, and Anderson took the opportunity to plant several dozen 12.9 mm rounds in its fuselage, which burst into flame. The Spartan saw the outline of a flaming Elite in the cockpit before it crashed down some distance behind them.
The gravity beam was clear now, only approximately a kilometer distant. As they got closer, John could see many Shades, operated by Grunts. A horde of Covenant stood near the gravity beam, backed by a Wraith mortar tank.
"Any plans?" Amy Anderson's voice crackled through the COM.
"Of course. Tell your tank back there to take out the mortar tank. Have the Jackhammer launchers hit the Shades. Then, we open fire, and drive straight through this bunch. Don't stop firing, and don't pause to reload."

"Full speed ahead." He ordered. The gunners whooped, and the drivers stomped on the accelerater. The Warthogs jumped forward as if they had been whipped, and the Master Chief saw that several Ghosts were driving straight towards them.
Damn it, they were going to try and meet the 'Hogs head on. That was bad.
It was fortunate that they were still in the scatter formation. The Ghosts opened fire as soon as they came within range, their formation a straight line, to try and eliminate room for manuevering. That was luck for the humans, and unfortunate for the Ghost pilots, as the Scorpion fired off a shell. A Ghost exploded and rained the area with shrapnel, and two others capsized.
That left five more Ghosts. The Spartan felt his vehicle straighten, which allowed him to adjust his aim, and send a volley of rockets whistling towards the Covenant vehicles.
The Elite drivers had realized the error of their formation, and were scattering. Two of the five rockets missed, and blew large divots out of the ground. The others impacted, and two more Covenant vehicles dropped. Anderson's vehicle ran one down, which tore its antigrav 'wing' off. The rest of the Ghost skittered behind them, unable to steer properly.
The convoy had gotten close now, close enough for the Shades surrounding the destroyer's gravity beam to open fire. However, the Chief sensed a slight hesitation from the Shade gunners, as if they were waiting for the order to fire.

Maybe it was the fact that Cortana had taken out their "Field Master". Probably a gold Elite. It made John think how many Gold elites that he had seen and killed, over the past few weeks.
So the Covenant and the humans were low on officers. That was pretty much normal in a time of war.
The Shades fired, and tentrils of purple-tinged plasma burned their way towards the convoy. The Scorpion MBT's cannon fired, and one of the Shades flew through the air, scorched, but otherwise appeared functional.
The Master Chief let loose with a barrage of rockets. It was nearly impossible not to hit something, the Covenant fighters were that tightly packed. Two more Shades went down.
Cortana's fighter swooped down, and took a classic covering position over the rest of the convoy. Her voice sounded in the Chief's internal helmet speakers. "I suggest you order the hauler to unload the bomb, once that last Shade goes down."
A navigation marker appeared in his HUD, and the Spartan glimpsed yet one more Shade, perched atop a building. It had a commanding field-of-fire. He shot three rockets towards it, but the range was too great, and the rockets smashed into the side of the building, near the bottom. It wobbled dangerously. An idea sparked in John's head, and he opened a COM channel to Linsk, aboard the Scorpion.
"Corporal, take a shot at the base of the building over there. Be sure to hit near that gap!"
"What-" Static washed out the rest.
"Do it now!" The Chief said. He prayed that Linsk had heard him. Covenant plasma had a frustrating knack of interfering with communications. He had to turn towards the main enemy now, before they were overwhelmed.
The Master Chief heard the MBT's cannon fire again, and he turned around. His heart leapt as the shell connected below his rocket-blasted gap, and the foundations groaned, and gave. The building toppled.
If the Grunt gunner screamed on the way down, John wouldn't have been able to hear him, with all the fracas going on. The Warthogs stopped at the edge of the grav beam. They formed a perimeter around the hauler, which opened up its back, and started unloading.
He leapt off the rocket pods, and yelled at the passenger in his Warthog. "Man the rocket pods!"
The PFC ran out of ammo then, and leapt off the back. "While you do what?"

AUTHOR's Poll----Okay, readers. Now that I realize Halo 2 is going to be out in about three weeks, you want me to:

A) Finish the story on my own creativity, disregarding the actual plot from Halo 2?

B)Finish this specific mission from this plot, and continue with the actual plot from Halo 2?

C)Jump straight to the big battle?

B.

Good to see you, too, Mandos. Yeah, my friends wanted B too.

~GOOOOOOOOOOOOD.
Hiya btw. ~

Ahoy, Mandos. I'll just call you Mandos, since i don't type Elvish. Anyways...

The Spartan didn't answer. Instead, he sprinted over to the closest fallen Shade, gutting a Jackal who had the misfortune to get in the way. Using his armor's reactive circuits and his own brute strength, he flipped it up without difficulty. A needler round bounced off, not three feet from his helmet.
He ignored the poorly-aimed plasma fire that the Jackals tossed in his direction, gripped the formers, and heaved himself into the makeshift firing cockpit. The Chief had fired Shades before, and was familiar with the controls. There were two control yokes, one for altitude, and one for azimuth degrees.
John let loose with a stream of hellfire, at the nearest group of Covenant, a group of Grunts and Jackals. Charred flesh and slagged armor were all that remained after he had finished with them.
The hauler had dropped the nuke at the foot of the gravity beam, and a group of technicians were trying to carry it over the groove, and onto the actual gravity pad, where the transparent purple beam emanated. Anderson had set her squad well, forming a perimeter around the bomb, and as John watched, Linsk blew a group of Elites to pieces.
A red-hot hammer smashed into his right shoulder pauldron; a bolt from a plasma rifle. The audible alarm went off, and the heat immediately penetrated his climate control. He felt as if he was sitting in a hot tub, completely submerged. Sweat trickled into his eyes, and obscured his vision.
He blinked, and his vision cleared. A second shot hit one of the Shade's supports. The Master Chief finally found where this source of fire was coming from.
It was a motley-assorted group of variously-colored Elites, armed with needlers and plasma rifles.

The Chief saw the flare of an ignited plasma grenade, and hurled himself to the ground. The grenade sailed over the area where his head was a split-second before, landed three meters away, and detonated.
His shoulder blistered, and he gritted his teeth, banishing the pain from his awareness. The Elites had formed a strategic formation around the base of the Shade, and he couldn't go out either way.
The Spartan brandished both plasma swords, cursing himself for dropping the SMG much earlier. He had to take the initiative for himself, before they rounded the corner, and he was in their gunsights.
A blue-armored Elite stepped around the Shade support, and swept the area with his plasma rifle. A plasma blade flashed forward with astonishing speed. The momentum alone knocked out its personal shielding, and the supercompressed plasma chopped down, cleaving armor, hide, and bone.
With practised speed, John searched the body, and came up with a plasma rifle, and three plasma grenades.
Two more Elites, one red, one black, stepped out. The red tried flanking him, but the Master Chief leveled the plasma sword, and flung it like a frisbee.
The veteran Elite gave a gutteral howl. The blade had stuck between its so-called ribs, and he clawed desperately at the hilt. The veteran actually managed to hold out for two seconds before his guts were completely vaporized. The corpse fell, and the fail-safe tampering detonaters disabled the sword.

The black special-ops Elite leveled a plasma pistol at the Chief, the muzzle glowing eerie green. He hadn't had time to pick up the plasma rifle from the dead Elite, so he balanced the other plasma blade, took aim, and flung.
The sword tore into the Elite's head, and it dropped like a sack of potatoes. The plasma pistol discharged its hellfire harmlessly against the charred duracrete.
The Master Chief quickly grabbed the plasma rifle, and just as he was steading it, two rookie navy-armoured Elites, charged recklessly from behind the slagged Shade. They were not very bright, yes, but they made up for it with a sheer rage, desire for a personal honour. He had seen such aliens charge, heedless of what went on around it.
They fired, but their aim was poor, and the plasma bolts flew over the Chief's head. He took aim, crouched, and fired his stolen plasma rifle. A bolt of blue-tinged fury tore the farther Elite's head off.
The other one swung at his head, but he ducked with lightning speed, and swung an uppercut, using the rifle as a bludgeon. The Elite's sheilding flared from the blow. The Spartan smashed its face in with a roundhouse kick.
Someone pinged his COM, and he opened up a K-band channel to them. A voice yelled into his ear, and his helmet's audio sensors automatically compensated.
"Master Chief, sir! We've loaded it down! Request permission to get the heck out of here!"
John opened up a channel to Cortana. "Cortana, factor in the mass of the nuke, with the rate of channeling from the gavity beam. Give us a countdown, because I don't want them throwing the nuke back down on us."
"Working..."Her disembodied voice said.
A thirty second timer appeared in his heads-up display.
"Thirty seconds?"
"That's what it takes."
"Inform the rest of the soldiers. After you're done that, evacuate and head to the nearest secure military airport. I'll rendevous with you later."
He didn't mention the possibility that he might be dead in thirty seconds, and counting.

Yep, time was money these days. Even more precious than money. He picked up the other plasma rifle.
In his peripheral vision, he saw the Warthogs move. One sluggishly moved towards him.
He opened up a COM channel to the driver, and said, "Get out of here, soldier. Don't worry about me. I'll find some way out...I've been in tougher situations before."
The Warthog kept moving toward him, blasting with "Olde Faithful" at the surrounding Covenant.
"Evacuate! That's an order, dammit!" He sprinted.
But the driver stubbornly pulled up alongside him, and the driver waved him aboard. The Chief saw that it was a young soldier...coundn't have been more than 25.
He heaved himself into the passenger seat, and blasted away at the enemy, dual-weilding with both plasma rifles. To normal Helljumpers, they would be lighter that the standard issue MA5B's, so he had no trouble. John turned to the driver.
"You've got some guts, son."
The soldier in question grinned wolfishly. "Thanks, Chief."
The Spartan saw that he was a Corporal. "Well, if we're not all glassed by the end of the month, I'll see if I can get you a promotion."
"Thanks again, Chief."
The timer now read 14 seconds. If they met no serious oppsition, they could get out of here, alive, and preferably unscathed.

Great story... its a book, but note the fact that you cannot dual wield plasma swords! Awsome keep going!

also you cant throw swords... those anyway, and mentioned a fail-safe, so why could he use it?

Meh. Hey, it's science fic, Graham. I hate to think that : "Oh no, i can't throw a sword, its a game!(Drops) I'd better charge them, and get fried with a plasma bolt otherwise!"

Ooh, ooh. It's hit page three. I need a review now...preferably from one I don't know in real life. Just tell me: what part you liked most, advice. blah, blah blah. The usual crap.

The 'Hog lurched as it smashed into an unfortunate Grunt. The timer now read at eight seconds and counting.
Up ahead, he could see the rest of the convoy. The hauler was left behind, though, and a Warthog was missing.
Three seconds. Two....
"Shield your eyes!" He barked into the COM. He polarized his visor filter to its darkest setting.
The world became yellow. The light of it burned through his filter. He heard the driver grunt, as it dazzled his eyelids.
The bomb had cut straight into the fusion engines, and the roiling energy impacted on its own shields rebounding chaotically inside the bubble. Finally, the pure heat collapsed the shield.
John's helmet automatically depolarized when the brilliance had faded.
He looked more closely, and saw the smoking wreckage of the Covenant destroyer. Those Covenant who remained seemed blind from the flash, by the way they were clutching their eyes, and staggering around.
"Where's the nearest military airport around here?" He asked his driver.
"San Falenza port, sir. About a mile thataway." He pointed.
"Okay everyone...head to the San Falenza airport. Due east," John said, over the COM channel. Then, in a quiet whisper to himself:"Mission accomplished."

AUTHOR's NOTE- Oh hell...the ship he was supposed to be running away on towards Halo is blown up. Yep, I'm stupid, ain't I? Guess I'll have to adapt somehow.

They arrived at the airport, but was greeted with a display of smoking vehicles, and a large battle.
John took in the situation at a glance. Up ahead, he could see another Covenant ship, a carrier. It was starting to wobble, which meant it was getting ready to disengage its gravity locks, and run away. The latter convfused him...John had known the Covenant for their sheer tenacity, and they never ran from a battle. Unless....unless they were looking for something, such as Forerunner technology. But there was no remnant of Forerunner technology, or artifacts on Earth.

Was there? Maybe that was why they were running away. They had searched here, but hadn't found what they were looking for, and decided to sit back, and leave the area without further delay. Which was probably why they had sent soldiers to destroy the massive shipyard, so that they weren't followed.

Like hell, He thought. But the Covenant horde were proving successful so far, having disabled two destroyers and a frigate. The only compatible craft they had left was an undersized frigate, named the Icarus.
Cortana must have also been assessing their situation, because she immediately implanted a NAV point, on the Icarus, and transmitted the coordinates over a secure COM channel to the rest of the team, and the marines half a kilometer distant, holding off the Covenant tide at bay.
"Can you jam their controls?" John asked Cortana, and looked at the carrier.
"Well, I can try." Her presence slipped out of his head.
He opened a COM channel to the marines. "Marines, fall back. Formation Delta..we're not letting the idiots run away from this one, if we can help it. Cortana has already sent the NAV point to you."
"Step on it." He ordered his driver. "Get us there, best speed you can."
"Affirmative."
A distorted, but tangible voice crackled in his helmet speakers.
"Johnson here," The uncanny Major replied."We're pushing back the assholes as best as we can. Miranda's here, too. She's a damned good shot, especially for a brat Navy ship driver."
John shook his head. Johnson was inflappible, keeping his head cool at all situations. He had a good sense of humor, and usually kept the squad on a high note. He, and others like him, would be needed, if Earth was to survive this conflict.
"Good work, Johnson. Get aboard the frigate, if you can. Good luck."

The vehicle sailed over a damaged Ghost. He looked up, and saw the Covenant ship freeze in mid-air. A few moments later, Cortana's prescence filled his head again.
"Good job, Cortana."
"Thank you, Chief."
"How long until they're functional again?"
"Approximately fifteen minutes."
A Wraith lumbered out from behind a large cargo module. Damn it, they had a big opportunity to chase that ship down, but this thing was right in the way.
"Slow down, Corporal!" He called to the driver.
"Are you crazy, Chief? If we slow down, that thing blows us all to atoms!"
But John stared at him, until he did. The Spartan leapt out, and yelled."Drive! Straight toward it!"
If they had a bit of luck, the Warthog would close the distance between them, and could reach the "safe" zone, where the Covenant tank, couldn't drop energy mortars on them.
The Master Chief circled around the Wraith, and automatic plasma weapons on the hull blasted at him. He sidestepped, so that he was in one weapon's blind side, and shot the other plasma gun until it slagged. He dropped one plasma rifle, and tensed.
The Wraith started to turn.
At the right moment, the Chief leapt aboard the hull. Immediately, the Elite driver inside activated a gravitic speed boost, and the Spartan was nearly thrown off the tank. However, as luck would have it, he grabbed a grooved rim, which happened to be right outside the cockpit. He looked inside, and saw the Elite draw a plasma weapon at him, the muzzle glowing green.
He rolled back as it discharged, stuck his own plasma rifle inside, and shot the Elite before its weapon recharged.
The Cheif smashed the cockpit protection canopy open, hurled the dead Elite from the controls, and dropped himself inside. The 'Hog stopped firing the chaingun on the back, and the Chief heard it coming alongside, in an escort position. As soon as it did this, however, the one remaining automatic plasma weapon blasted at the Warthog, and the driver swore.
Without thinking, he smashed his fist through a holographic control. The plasma cannon stopped firing.
He shook his head in amazement. When he was driving Covenant vehicles for the first time, he somehow always got the controls right the first time. He put his hand through a holographic semicircle with a "hilt", and twisted it to the right.
The mortar control came to life, and a targeting reticule appeared on the peripheral screen.

He twisted it to the left, and aimed at where a crowd of Elites were trying to rally a group of diminuitive Grunts. John did his best to eyeball a trajectory, and squeezed the firing stud.
A ball of blue-tinged hellfire tore its way toward the Elites, and impacted. When the smoke cleared, they were gone. Vaporized.
The Grunts were either shooting randomly, or running around in panic. He opened up a COM channel to the marines, and Johnson.
"Listen up, Helljumpers. I'm in a Covenant tank. You'll have probably noticed by now from the fireworks display...I'm going to need some vehicle backup to the Icarus, ASAP."
Two Warthogs drove up, and took a flanking escort position around the tank.
"How much time, now?" He asked Cortana.
"Fourteen minutes, five seconds, and counting."
"Use my COM channel to get aboad the ship's network...'warm up the car', before we leave."
"Roger that, Chief."
A COM channel opened, and closed.
The tank drove into the Icarus's vehicle bay.
"Johnson! Where's Miranda Keyes?"
A voice replied, not Johnson's iron-hard baritone, but a calm female voice, that strongly reminded him of Cortana.
"I'm on the bridge, Chief. Cortana's unpacking the operating software. Advise that you hold the Covenant bastards off, before we lift."
"Roger." He replied, and clambered out of the tank.
The Spartan drew his plasma rifle, and peeked around the corner. Where the hell was Johnson now?
As if on cue, the Sergeant Major jogged up from behind a drained fuel battery.
"Tell everyone to get on board." He told the Sergeant.
He nodded, and turned toward the scattering of cargo modules, empty fuel tanks, and spare ship parts. "Fall back!" He roared, over the noise.
"Fall back aboard the frigate, Helljumpers!"
The marines did, albeit unwillingly. Apparently they did not like backing away from a fight, which was the case with ODST's.
The Chief was about to yell, but the Sergeant winked slyly at him. Again, he opened his mouth.
"Come on, you idiots! If you wanna fight the assholes and to live another day, then please accept our special offer to get your sorry asses aboad this ship, and shoot some more bastards later!"
At once, they began to run backwards toward the deployment bay, shooting.
Johnson grinned at the amused Spartan."Worked like a charm."

John had his hand on the manual lock release switch, and he slapped it as soon as the last ODST's were in the troop bay. Several Elites stormed through the door, and laid down some smack with a heavy round of plasma fire.
The Chief dodged, ducked, and dived behind an emtpy fuel module. He lobbed an unarmed grenade over the gap, and heard the startled reaction, as the aliens tried to dive out of the way. He shot them as they tried to run.
Within scant seconds, the fight was over.
He felt the floor rumble, and knew that the ship had lifted off. Johnson apparently felt the same. "Thank god for Cortana."
Miranda Keyes had broadcast the transmission over the all-ship intercom. "Sir, the Covenant ship is about to jump. Permission to engage?"
The low voice of Admiral Hood sounded."Negative. I'll send two heavy cruisers to in-recon."
Apparently, Miranda had the intercom button depressed still, and John heard the navigation officer's voice.
"Ma'am, it's jumping!"
John leaped to the aft window, and saw motes of green light boil around the Covenant ship. The Icarus was dwarfed by it. It was a good thing that they were close. At far range, the slipspace bubble might collapes, with such mass on its edge.
"Sir, it's jumping, we've got no time!"
Hood's voice sighed, recognizing Keye's urgency. "Green light. Green light to engage!"
"Ma'am, without specific jump calculations-"
"We are not losing that ship!" The determination was clear.

**

As the Covenant cruiser disappeared with the tinier human Frigate, a huge slipspace explosion rocked all of New Mombasa.

SECTION TWO:
The Arbiter


Covenant Holy City
High Charity council chamber

"There was only one ship." Igna Vulcanmee said.
The Prophet of Mercy coughed."Only one? Are you certain?"
Vulcanmee looked around the caverous chamber, where Minor Prophets, and Elite Councillors sat gravely, listening to his testament.
They were here to debate what to do with him, since Igna Vulcanmee had failed to protected Halo from destruction.
He spoke up again. "Yes. They called it... the Pillar of Autumn. It managed to reach Halo, as we set fire to their planet. I commanded all the ships in my command to intercept this ship, but it still managed to land on Halo."
The council started muttering amongst themselves, but quieted once the High Prophet of Truth spoke. "Tell us more about the Demon, this...Master Chief."
"This human is more powerful than other humans. He managed to set off a chaotic explosion in the single human ship, which destroyed Halo."
Truth spoke again, his voice with an edge."Long have you led our fleets. Long have you commanded our warriors in battle. But your failure to safeguard Halo was a colossal failure."
Vulcamee hung his head. The Prophet of Truth did not raise his voice, but his mood was such that Vulcamee would have felt less nervous if Truth had shouted at him.
Instantly, the council rose, and started yelling. A Minor Prophet stood up.
"Nay, it was heresy!"
The council argued even louder, and the Prophet of Mercy raised his feeble voice. "There will be order in this council!"