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.
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.
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.
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.
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Aug 26th, 2004 06:04 PM
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