Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

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Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Tue Dec 16, 2008 6:02 pm

Well, here it is. If something in it seems illogical, it isn't, really. I didn't really know where else to put it, so here it is:


Chapter 1





October 20th, 2552

In the desert plains on the outskirts of New Mombassa, everything was quiet. No movement. Not a sound, not the wind, nor the wildlife. It was deserted. A large rock hill cast a long shadow above the sand. There was suddenly a humming sound. It came from above the large ridge. Soon, a large, round, bluish silver object, smooth on most it’s edges, emerged from above. Its engines hummed, disturbing the silence of the desert. A Covenant CCS-class battlecruiser flew above the desert at an extremely low altitude. She kept moving in the general direction of New Mombassa. Its mission: secure a foothold in New Mombassa. The invasion of Earth was beginning.

“Ten minutes until landing.” The pilot of the Pelican headed to New Mombassa yelled to the squadron of ODST troopers in the back. Lance-Corporal Nathan Hayes was among them. This was his first mission as part of the ODST corps. His helmet visor shinned as a result of the sunlight shining down on them. He was seated next to the edge of the dropship. Two Pelicans, both full; twenty ODST were headed to the landing zone outside New Mombassa. The troops were battle ready, brandishing their weapons in their hands. The first Pelican, the one in front of Hayes’, was already at the drop off point. It was landing, until they were hit by glowing blobs of energy. The Pelican had taken too much damage and was unable to stay in the air. It fell vertically to the sandy ground and hit with a loud thud, bending and breaking it beyond repair. The attacker, a flying purple blob on stilt wings, turned to face the other Pelican. They fired, when the pilot pulled up to stop the plasma bolts from hitting the passengers. He made a quick turn, hopping to take out the machine but it was too late. It was firing at the cockpit, breaking the glass and killing the pilot. The co-pilot tried to stabilize, with little luck, but was able to turn the vehicle around. The enemy fired what appeared to be a rocket of some sort, which hit the cockpit, destroying it and killing the co-pilot. Hayes fell out, after taking off his seatbelt a few minutes before the attack started. He hit the ground, but only from four metres high. He was knocked unconscious, weapon beside him, when the Pelican hit seven metres away from his location, not to far from the first. The entire area was littered with Pelican debris for nearly thirteen metres. His unconscious body was lying face up in the sand, head tilted to the right. The sand on the ground was blown away by the speed of the Banshee, causing some to fall on Hayes. The wreckage of the two pelicans was ablaze. One man was still awake. It was First Lieutenant Dustin Morris. He quickly checked each of the men in the Pelican for vital signs. He looked to the sky above while checking the captain. He heard nothing and saw nothing. The captain had a pulse and was pulled away from the wreckage. He did the same with seven others, but the rest were dead. He rushed over to the other Pelican, checked the first soldier’s vitals. The Pelicans came down hard, hard enough to kill so many. Only three were still alive. He pulled two out at a time, when the third woke up. It was Private First Class Tristan Grant. He saw Morris pulling men out. He proceeded slowly to the closest one to him, but Morris was soon behind him, hand on his shoulder, and as Grant turned his head, he saw Morris shaking his. Grant saw the shine of the blue ODST visor in the distance. He looked for a while, and then counted the casualties in his Pelican. He counted six dead, two unconscious and himself. He turned, and pointed with his index and major together of his right hand to the visor’s glow in the sunlight. Morris saw what Grant did. They both rushed over and Morris got there first. He took Hayes’ MA5C and took one of his shoulders, while Grant took the other, and pulled him back to the Pelicans for any medical treatment. Once there, they put him near one of them. The sun was starting to set. Morris placed Hayes’ rifle beside him, and entered the furthest Pelican to retrieve all the supplies. Grant did the same with the closer Pelican. They got all weapons and supplies out; food, water, medical kits, weapons, ammo, everything that was salvageable. As they started to pile everything in separate piles, others started to wake up, one by one. Eventually, they were all conscious except Hayes.

“They were both shot down. No reports or distress signals, sir. Either their comm. system is down, or none of them are still alive.” A man wearing a grey uniform and a Captain’s rank insignia was standing in a room full of other officers. He stood and stared at the one who was talking to him. He spoke about the incident outside New Mombassa. The Captain stood for a while, as if sorting his thoughts. He looked down at his shoes, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked up again. He stared at the Lieutenant for a few seconds once again.
“Sir…” the Lieutenant said. He was worried for the Captain. He hadn’t answered yet, which was unusual for him. He turned around and finally spoke.
“Get Admiral Hood on the line. I’ll have to have a talk with him.” The Lieutenant nodded and turned back to his station, opening a comm. line with the Admiral’s ship. The face of a man dressed in white, wearing an officer’s cap and covered with decorations appeared on the screen. He looked at the Captain.
“Yes, Captain Stebbins, what is it?” He said in a somewhat impatient voice. The young looking Captain scratched his brown beard before uttering a sound from his mouth.
“Lord Hood, sir. We’ve lost contact with the two Pelican dropships we sent to New Mombassa. We’ve been hailing them for over an hour, with no response. That strike team may have been lost before even arriving at the checkpoint. How will we proceed?” Hood looked at him in the eyes for a few seconds, concocting a plan, but none came to fruition in his mind, so he dared not reveal them.
“Captain, I’ve decided to give you the decision of how you’ll proceed. I know you’re nervous, just being a Captain for only a few months, but I trust your judgement and experience. I’m fairly certain you can handle this one. If you need any help, don’t be afraid to contact me or any other ship in the area. Good luck and God speed.” Stebbins looked at the man for nothing but a fraction of a second before replying.
“Thank you, sir.” He said. The channel was cut from the Admiral’s side. Stebbins turned to his pilot to issue an order.
“Ensign Hall, enter atmosphere and head to the northern outskirts of New Mombassa. I plan to take a strike team down there, and get our men out myself.” The Ensign nodded and did so, taking them on a course that would enter Earth’s atmosphere.
“Sir, if I may,” the communications officer said, “isn’t it a little dangerous to go down to the surface in a warzone?” The Captain looked at him, walked over, and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Do you not consider open space battles to be warzones, Lieutenant?” He said. He then told his staff they’d be taking orders from the Commander. He headed to the elevator down to the barracks, where he would have a team assembled for the mission.

It was dark out; the sun had set, and the flames had finally calmed down. The only source of light was the campfire built by the survivors of the crash. A few were standing guard, one with a SRS 99D-S2 sniper rifle, the other with an M7/Caseless SMG. One sat down, rifle was on his lap, the other, crouched on his knee, was looking at the small town through his scope. He scanned the area, and found no signs of enemy activity. The entire town was deserted, or at least, it only looked that way to him.
“Hey, Andy, see anything particular?” The other soldier asked. He kept looking through his scope, panning slightly to the right another few inches. He lowered the weapon and turned his head to the other soldier.
“I got nothing.” He said with a sigh in a tired voice. “You hear anything, Lucas?” He asked the other. He shook his head, and turned to look at the city of New Mombassa. He saw flashes; both yellowish white, as if it were weapons fire, and other, multicoloured flashed, from what appeared to be plasma weapons. He stood up, stepped forward and kept looking.
“What is it? What’s wrong? What do you see?” He asked, turning his head in the direction of the city, which wasn’t very far from them. He saw the flashes as well.
“We’ve got to tell the Captain. Let’s go.” He got up and ran to the campfire. The other turned around and saw him.
“Wait for me, White!” He yelled. His boots made deep prints in the sand, and his visor shinned in the presence of the campfire. White got to the Captain first, Bridgemond not far behind. He stopped in front of the Captain, who had just gotten up to see what was going on.
“Lieutenant White, Corporal Bridgemond, what is it?” He asked them. His voice denoted experience and leadership. He stood with an excellent posture, and shifted his view form one of the soldiers to the other.
“Captain Gerard, sir. We saw…something.” Bridgemond said quickly. The Captain looked at him for a few seconds and turned to White, as if expecting an answer. He soon got it.
“Gunfire, sir, we saw gunfire in New Mombassa. Our boys and the Covenant. We could see the flashes, but we didn’t hear anything. They must be far off in the city.” He answered the Captain’s question, who was pondering a response to that. He looked back at the campfire, where he could see the entire group of survivors. Some were leaning against the Pelicans, but most were around the campfire, including Lance-Corporal Hayes, who has yet to awake from his fall.
“If you’re suggesting we move in there, then there’s no way we’re doing that. The men need some time to recuperate from the crash, and I don’t want to move the Lance-Corporal just yet. We move in the morning, understood?” He said with authority in his voice.
“But, sir, I wasn’t suggesting that, neither of us were.” He said in the defence of him and his comrade. The Captain nodded and apologized. He admitted to being wrong with what he said. He sat down, and the other two headed back to their posts. There was some chatter between the two; one especially was about the Lance-Corporal.
“He’s been asleep so long. Why doesn’t someone wake him up and make him stand guard?” Bridgemond said with a tone of impatience towards not doing anything but sitting in the desert and watching the area.
“He’s not asleep, he’s unconscious, and they can’t wake him up. Even if he does wake up, he’ll be weak.” White replied, making his point. Bridgemond didn’t reply to White’s statement because he knew he wouldn’t be able to counter it. They continued on their way, back to their posts where White dropped his weapon when they ran to see the Captain. Six tracks in the sand were barely visible, with the high traffic of the two watchmen.

Hayes finally woke from his unconscious state. He was breathing heavily, as if he had experienced a nightmare. He saw three figures standing above him. All three were dressed in dress uniforms. They helped him up. He too was in a dress uniform. He looked at the three of them and recognized their faces immediately. One of them was Captain Francis Gerard, who appeared to be wearing Colonel Decorations. The one on his left was his friend, who was a First Lieutenant, Dustin Morris, who wore Major Decorations, and his cousin, First Lieutenant Amelia Stevenson, wearing Captain Decorations. In appeared Hayes was wearing different decorations himself. He was no longer a Lance-Corporal, but a Master Gunnery Sergeant. They appeared to be in a building on Earth. It was sunny outside, the perfect day almost. He wondered why he was on the ground.
“Don’t worry,” his cousin said, “you passed out, but you’re fine now.” She dusted off his uniform with her hands. She placed her right hand on his left shoulder and smiled. He looked around; they were right outside a room full of soldiers in uniform. One man was talking in front of them. It was Lord Hood. He spoke the four’s names and they entered the room. He told them they were being honoured for the defence of the home planet. Each received medals, when everything blacked out. He woke up once again, beside a campfire with three figures standing above him, looking down. He sat up, and the one in front of him helped him up. It was his cousin, Amelia. He looked around and saw the entire strike force in ODST armour and the two crashed Pelicans. He saw several dead inside one of the Pelicans.
“Welcome back, Nate.” She said to him. He then realized that the other two were the Captain and Dustin. He was glad to see them. The last thing he could remember was falling, then waking up somewhere on Earth, in a building in dress uniform, then waking up again in the present in Africa.
“I had the weirdest dream…” He said, holding his head with his hand. His cousin put her hand on his shoulder, holding him up.
“You’re weak, you need some rest. Come, I’ll find you a nice place to sleep.” She said, carrying him over to one of the Pelicans, the nearest one to the campfire. She lowered him gently onto the sandy ground and got back up.
“There, you shouldn’t be bothered by the light or our discussions here. I’ll have Lieutenant Morris watch over you tonight. You’ll be fine, just get some rest.” He made no reply. He had nothing to say in reply to her, just lay there, quietly. She walked away back to the campfire and told Morris to take care of him. His arms were crossed and he was looking at her. He nodded and dropped his arms and walked over. He walked to the Pelican and leaned against it. He dropped down on his behind to the sand bellow and sat there, changing his glances from to the troops standing around the campfire to his boots to Hayes and back to his boots. He didn’t like what was happening; the crash, the wait, the entire mission in general. He never thought it was a good mission from the start. He felt Stebbins was making a big mistake, and the incident seemed to have fuelled that feeling. He just sat, lost in his thought.

“No way am I going to let you do that, Captain.” The Major said. He was furious with the Captain’s plan to retrieve the lost men. He seemed sceptical they were even still alive. The Captain would usually say ‘That’s an order’, but this time, he was hesitant. He wasn’t sure what to do anymore. He decided to stay and think his plan through, because he knew that, without a plan, the Major would never do it, and would never let him do it either.
“You know what? You’re right. I’m going to go to my quarters and think it over a bit. I’ll have the pilot bring us back into orbit. In the mean time, prepare your men, because I intend to go get our men, with or without a plan.” The Major nodded in agreement, but most certainly didn’t agree with half of what he said. The Captain turned around and headed to the elevator as the Major walked back to the barracks. The Captain would devise a plan of attack and the Major would pick and prepare men for the mission. They both know it will be a costly mission, but, even with the Major’s doubt, the Captain still thinks positively about anything, which may become a big help to them in the future. The hallways were empty and quiet. After the departure of the two men, the hallways became dead silent. They would soon be bustling with life.






Questions, compliments and constructive criticism welcomed.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Tabula Rasa on Tue Dec 16, 2008 8:45 pm

You made this?
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Tue Dec 16, 2008 9:43 pm

Yeah, why?
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Tabula Rasa on Tue Dec 16, 2008 9:59 pm

Just wondering. You could make a set of short stories like this and try to publish it. After getting permission from Microsoft, of course.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Wed Dec 17, 2008 6:37 am

Yeah, like Microsoft would let me. I've already got original ideas set in my own created universe, but they don't quite add up to Halo, which has an awesome storyline and stupid yet well made online play.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Tabula Rasa on Wed Dec 17, 2008 10:38 am

Moved To User Projects. I suddenly realized why I put that there.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Wed Dec 17, 2008 1:59 pm

Now I know where to put this. Thanks, I think.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Serrated on Sat Dec 20, 2008 1:25 pm

Biohazard wrote:Well, here it is. If something in it seems illogical, it isn't, really. I didn't really know where else to put it, so here it is:


Chapter 1





October 20th, 2552

In the desert plains on the outskirts of New Mombassa, everything was quiet. No movement. Not a sound, not the wind, nor the wildlife. It was deserted. A large rock hill cast a long shadow above the sand. There was suddenly a humming sound. It came from above the large ridge. Soon, a large, round, bluish silver object, smooth on most it’s edges, emerged from above. Its engines hummed, disturbing the silence of the desert. A Covenant CCS-class battlecruiser flew above the desert at an extremely low altitude. She kept moving in the general direction of New Mombassa. Its mission: secure a foothold in New Mombassa. The invasion of Earth was beginning.

“Ten minutes until landing.” The pilot of the Pelican headed to New Mombassa yelled to the squadron of ODST troopers in the back. Lance-Corporal Nathan Hayes was among them. This was his first mission as part of the ODST corps. His helmet visor shinned as a result of the sunlight shining down on them. He was seated next to the edge of the dropship. Two Pelicans, both full; twenty ODST were headed to the landing zone outside New Mombassa. The troops were battle ready, brandishing their weapons in their hands. The first Pelican, the one in front of Hayes’, was already at the drop off point. It was landing, until they were hit by glowing blobs of energy. The Pelican had taken too much damage and was unable to stay in the air. It fell vertically to the sandy ground and hit with a loud thud, bending and breaking it beyond repair. The attacker, a flying purple blob on stilt wings, turned to face the other Pelican. They fired, when the pilot pulled up to stop the plasma bolts from hitting the passengers. He made a quick turn, hopping to take out the machine but it was too late. It was firing at the cockpit, breaking the glass and killing the pilot. The co-pilot tried to stabilize, with little luck, but was able to turn the vehicle around. The enemy fired what appeared to be a rocket of some sort, which hit the cockpit, destroying it and killing the co-pilot. Hayes fell out, after taking off his seatbelt a few minutes before the attack started. He hit the ground, but only from four metres high. He was knocked unconscious, weapon beside him, when the Pelican hit seven metres away from his location, not to far from the first. The entire area was littered with Pelican debris for nearly thirteen metres. His unconscious body was lying face up in the sand, head tilted to the right. The sand on the ground was blown away by the speed of the Banshee, causing some to fall on Hayes. The wreckage of the two pelicans was ablaze. One man was still awake. It was First Lieutenant Dustin Morris. He quickly checked each of the men in the Pelican for vital signs. He looked to the sky above while checking the captain. He heard nothing and saw nothing. The captain had a pulse and was pulled away from the wreckage. He did the same with seven others, but the rest were dead. He rushed over to the other Pelican, checked the first soldier’s vitals. The Pelicans came down hard, hard enough to kill so many. Only three were still alive. He pulled two out at a time, when the third woke up. It was Private First Class Tristan Grant. He saw Morris pulling men out. He proceeded slowly to the closest one to him, but Morris was soon behind him, hand on his shoulder, and as Grant turned his head, he saw Morris shaking his. Grant saw the shine of the blue ODST visor in the distance. He looked for a while, and then counted the casualties in his Pelican. He counted six dead, two unconscious and himself. He turned, and pointed with his index and major together of his right hand to the visor’s glow in the sunlight. Morris saw what Grant did. They both rushed over and Morris got there first. He took Hayes’ MA5C and took one of his shoulders, while Grant took the other, and pulled him back to the Pelicans for any medical treatment. Once there, they put him near one of them. The sun was starting to set. Morris placed Hayes’ rifle beside him, and entered the furthest Pelican to retrieve all the supplies. Grant did the same with the closer Pelican. They got all weapons and supplies out; food, water, medical kits, weapons, ammo, everything that was salvageable. As they started to pile everything in separate piles, others started to wake up, one by one. Eventually, they were all conscious except Hayes.

“They were both shot down. No reports or distress signals, sir. Either their comm. system is down, or none of them are still alive.” A man wearing a grey uniform and a Captain’s rank insignia was standing in a room full of other officers. He stood and stared at the one who was talking to him. He spoke about the incident outside New Mombassa. The Captain stood for a while, as if sorting his thoughts. He looked down at his shoes, clasped his hands behind his back, and looked up again. He stared at the Lieutenant for a few seconds once again.
“Sir…” the Lieutenant said. He was worried for the Captain. He hadn’t answered yet, which was unusual for him. He turned around and finally spoke.
“Get Admiral Hood on the line. I’ll have to have a talk with him.” The Lieutenant nodded and turned back to his station, opening a comm. line with the Admiral’s ship. The face of a man dressed in white, wearing an officer’s cap and covered with decorations appeared on the screen. He looked at the Captain.
“Yes, Captain Stebbins, what is it?” He said in a somewhat impatient voice. The young looking Captain scratched his brown beard before uttering a sound from his mouth.
“Lord Hood, sir. We’ve lost contact with the two Pelican dropships we sent to New Mombassa. We’ve been hailing them for over an hour, with no response. That strike team may have been lost before even arriving at the checkpoint. How will we proceed?” Hood looked at him in the eyes for a few seconds, concocting a plan, but none came to fruition in his mind, so he dared not reveal them.
“Captain, I’ve decided to give you the decision of how you’ll proceed. I know you’re nervous, just being a Captain for only a few months, but I trust your judgement and experience. I’m fairly certain you can handle this one. If you need any help, don’t be afraid to contact me or any other ship in the area. Good luck and God speed.” Stebbins looked at the man for nothing but a fraction of a second before replying.
“Thank you, sir.” He said. The channel was cut from the Admiral’s side. Stebbins turned to his pilot to issue an order.
“Ensign Hall, enter atmosphere and head to the northern outskirts of New Mombassa. I plan to take a strike team down there, and get our men out myself.” The Ensign nodded and did so, taking them on a course that would enter Earth’s atmosphere.
“Sir, if I may,” the communications officer said, “isn’t it a little dangerous to go down to the surface in a warzone?” The Captain looked at him, walked over, and put his hand on his shoulder.
“Do you not consider open space battles to be warzones, Lieutenant?” He said. He then told his staff they’d be taking orders from the Commander. He headed to the elevator down to the barracks, where he would have a team assembled for the mission.

It was dark out; the sun had set, and the flames had finally calmed down. The only source of light was the campfire built by the survivors of the crash. A few were standing guard, one with a SRS 99D-S2 sniper rifle, the other with an M7/Caseless SMG. One sat down, rifle was on his lap, the other, crouched on his knee, was looking at the small town through his scope. He scanned the area, and found no signs of enemy activity. The entire town was deserted, or at least, it only looked that way to him.
“Hey, Andy, see anything particular?” The other soldier asked. He kept looking through his scope, panning slightly to the right another few inches. He lowered the weapon and turned his head to the other soldier.
“I got nothing.” He said with a sigh in a tired voice. “You hear anything, Lucas?” He asked the other. He shook his head, and turned to look at the city of New Mombassa. He saw flashes; both yellowish white, as if it were weapons fire, and other, multicoloured flashed, from what appeared to be plasma weapons. He stood up, stepped forward and kept looking.
“What is it? What’s wrong? What do you see?” He asked, turning his head in the direction of the city, which wasn’t very far from them. He saw the flashes as well.
“We’ve got to tell the Captain. Let’s go.” He got up and ran to the campfire. The other turned around and saw him.
“Wait for me, White!” He yelled. His boots made deep prints in the sand, and his visor shinned in the presence of the campfire. White got to the Captain first, Bridgemond not far behind. He stopped in front of the Captain, who had just gotten up to see what was going on.
“Lieutenant White, Corporal Bridgemond, what is it?” He asked them. His voice denoted experience and leadership. He stood with an excellent posture, and shifted his view form one of the soldiers to the other.
“Captain Gerard, sir. We saw…something.” Bridgemond said quickly. The Captain looked at him for a few seconds and turned to White, as if expecting an answer. He soon got it.
“Gunfire, sir, we saw gunfire in New Mombassa. Our boys and the Covenant. We could see the flashes, but we didn’t hear anything. They must be far off in the city.” He answered the Captain’s question, who was pondering a response to that. He looked back at the campfire, where he could see the entire group of survivors. Some were leaning against the Pelicans, but most were around the campfire, including Lance-Corporal Hayes, who has yet to awake from his fall.
“If you’re suggesting we move in there, then there’s no way we’re doing that. The men need some time to recuperate from the crash, and I don’t want to move the Lance-Corporal just yet. We move in the morning, understood?” He said with authority in his voice.
“But, sir, I wasn’t suggesting that, neither of us were.” He said in the defence of him and his comrade. The Captain nodded and apologized. He admitted to being wrong with what he said. He sat down, and the other two headed back to their posts. There was some chatter between the two; one especially was about the Lance-Corporal.
“He’s been asleep so long. Why doesn’t someone wake him up and make him stand guard?” Bridgemond said with a tone of impatience towards not doing anything but sitting in the desert and watching the area.
“He’s not asleep, he’s unconscious, and they can’t wake him up. Even if he does wake up, he’ll be weak.” White replied, making his point. Bridgemond didn’t reply to White’s statement because he knew he wouldn’t be able to counter it. They continued on their way, back to their posts where White dropped his weapon when they ran to see the Captain. Six tracks in the sand were barely visible, with the high traffic of the two watchmen.

Hayes finally woke from his unconscious state. He was breathing heavily, as if he had experienced a nightmare. He saw three figures standing above him. All three were dressed in dress uniforms. They helped him up. He too was in a dress uniform. He looked at the three of them and recognized their faces immediately. One of them was Captain Francis Gerard, who appeared to be wearing Colonel Decorations. The one on his left was his friend, who was a First Lieutenant, Dustin Morris, who wore Major Decorations, and his cousin, First Lieutenant Amelia Stevenson, wearing Captain Decorations. In appeared Hayes was wearing different decorations himself. He was no longer a Lance-Corporal, but a Master Gunnery Sergeant. They appeared to be in a building on Earth. It was sunny outside, the perfect day almost. He wondered why he was on the ground.
“Don’t worry,” his cousin said, “you passed out, but you’re fine now.” She dusted off his uniform with her hands. She placed her right hand on his left shoulder and smiled. He looked around; they were right outside a room full of soldiers in uniform. One man was talking in front of them. It was Lord Hood. He spoke the four’s names and they entered the room. He told them they were being honoured for the defence of the home planet. Each received medals, when everything blacked out. He woke up once again, beside a campfire with three figures standing above him, looking down. He sat up, and the one in front of him helped him up. It was his cousin, Amelia. He looked around and saw the entire strike force in ODST armour and the two crashed Pelicans. He saw several dead inside one of the Pelicans.
“Welcome back, Nate.” She said to him. He then realized that the other two were the Captain and Dustin. He was glad to see them. The last thing he could remember was falling, then waking up somewhere on Earth, in a building in dress uniform, then waking up again in the present in Africa.
“I had the weirdest dream…” He said, holding his head with his hand. His cousin put her hand on his shoulder, holding him up.
“You’re weak, you need some rest. Come, I’ll find you a nice place to sleep.” She said, carrying him over to one of the Pelicans, the nearest one to the campfire. She lowered him gently onto the sandy ground and got back up.
“There, you shouldn’t be bothered by the light or our discussions here. I’ll have Lieutenant Morris watch over you tonight. You’ll be fine, just get some rest.” He made no reply. He had nothing to say in reply to her, just lay there, quietly. She walked away back to the campfire and told Morris to take care of him. His arms were crossed and he was looking at her. He nodded and dropped his arms and walked over. He walked to the Pelican and leaned against it. He dropped down on his behind to the sand bellow and sat there, changing his glances from to the troops standing around the campfire to his boots to Hayes and back to his boots. He didn’t like what was happening; the crash, the wait, the entire mission in general. He never thought it was a good mission from the start. He felt Stebbins was making a big mistake, and the incident seemed to have fuelled that feeling. He just sat, lost in his thought.

“No way am I going to let you do that, Captain.” The Major said. He was furious with the Captain’s plan to retrieve the lost men. He seemed sceptical they were even still alive. The Captain would usually say ‘That’s an order’, but this time, he was hesitant. He wasn’t sure what to do anymore. He decided to stay and think his plan through, because he knew that, without a plan, the Major would never do it, and would never let him do it either.
“You know what? You’re right. I’m going to go to my quarters and think it over a bit. I’ll have the pilot bring us back into orbit. In the mean time, prepare your men, because I intend to go get our men, with or without a plan.” The Major nodded in agreement, but most certainly didn’t agree with half of what he said. The Captain turned around and headed to the elevator as the Major walked back to the barracks. The Captain would devise a plan of attack and the Major would pick and prepare men for the mission. They both know it will be a costly mission, but, even with the Major’s doubt, the Captain still thinks positively about anything, which may become a big help to them in the future. The hallways were empty and quiet. After the departure of the two men, the hallways became dead silent. They would soon be bustling with life.






Questions, compliments and constructive criticism welcomed.


HOLY CRAP YOU TYPED ALL THIS
GET FRIKIN THERAPY MAN
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Sat Dec 20, 2008 4:12 pm

Why should I? I like to write, just like you like to freak out when you see a lot of writing done by me.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Tabula Rasa on Sat Dec 20, 2008 5:22 pm

Calm down, Serrated. No point in getting all excited.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Serrated on Mon Dec 22, 2008 2:38 pm

sorry. its just that seeing all that typing and knowing it was done in less than an hour really makes me worried about you man.

*dramatic music*
BECAUSE WE HERE AT VERSA PRODUCTIONS CARE FOR EACH USER AND IT IS OUR RESPONSIBILITY TO BE ONES
WHO GUIDE THEM TO SUCCESS AND MARGARITAVILLE!
*crazy aplause with happy tears* :cheers:

back to you
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Mon Dec 22, 2008 7:27 pm

When did I say I did it in less than an hour? It took me a few days to complete, well over an hour, like four almost, stretched across three days.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Serrated on Thu Dec 25, 2008 7:08 pm

wow man, three days. I guess you have a lot of patience.
wait did i spell that right


Last edited by Versa on Thu Dec 25, 2008 8:25 pm; edited 1 time in total (Reason for editing : Spelled it right.)
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Tabula Rasa on Thu Dec 25, 2008 8:25 pm

Now you did. Razz
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Thu Dec 25, 2008 10:01 pm

Sometimes I have a lot, and sometimes I have no more patience than Brute's respect for humanity. Halo joke!
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  CrimsonDiabolics on Thu Jan 01, 2009 2:53 pm

"brutes"? "Patience"? I thought this was a story that refenced me What a Face
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Thu Jan 01, 2009 2:55 pm

I would never base a story on you. You're just referenced, more or less.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  CrimsonDiabolics on Thu Jan 01, 2009 3:00 pm

lol.. alien
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Tabula Rasa on Sat Jan 03, 2009 8:05 pm

Next chapter forthcoming?
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Sun Jan 04, 2009 12:17 am

Not really anytime soon. I haven't been putting much time into it, but I've got some stuff done. Been busy with other crap.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Serrated on Sat Feb 21, 2009 2:13 pm

Put a ninja or a guitar in it.
I saw this one halo spoof where the guitar looked like an energy sword Laughing
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Sat Feb 21, 2009 6:55 pm

Yeah, that's TSAH2 (There's Something About Halo 2). That one was funny, like it's predecessor.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Serrated on Tue Mar 10, 2009 8:26 pm

lol legendary frog rules dood
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Wed Mar 11, 2009 5:40 pm

Yeah, but he was only asked to do the intro movie from the game, since he didn't know about Halo and hates Xbox.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Tabula Rasa on Sun Apr 12, 2009 5:42 pm

Halo works on PC, too.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

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