Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

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

Post  Tabula Rasa on Tue May 05, 2009 8:58 am

YAY!
Go Halo!
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Tue May 05, 2009 8:26 pm

I'm going to have to read my first chapter to situate myself, but I expect it to come out great and by this weekend, or next week. We'll see.

EDIT: Wow, I never really noticed I made so many mistakes. I guess I'm going to have to proof proof read it next time. Razz
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Bioskorpion on Fri May 08, 2009 10:08 pm

Yeah, but it's more widely played on the Xbox and 360, and practically nobody gives a crap about the PC version. I think it's good, but others don't. Anyway, it's Halo 2 and I might be wrong, but I don't think it was on the PC back then.

EDIT: This just in. I'm continuing my writing. There will be new characters and even more stuff and so on and so forth. I'm making this epic.

EDITEDIT: Chapter 2.

Chapter 2





October 21st, 2552

The sandy dunes of the African desert glistened in the fiery sunlight. Seven of the men and women left from the crash were awake. The other half were sleeping. Hayes got up and walked over to the dead campfire. His helmet in his left hand, MA5C in the right, we proceeded to the nearest of the troops. That one soldier, in turn, walked towards Hayes. He nodded and the soldier returned the gesture.
“Good morning, Lance-Corporal. Glad to see you out and about. The Captain wants to proceed to the city in a half hour, when everyone else is awake. Get ready. This is going to be quite a battle.”
Hayes nodded and turned to look at those who were asleep. He counted three. Four had already woken up and were preparing to leave. The Captain was directing his men. He ordered them to split the troops into two groups of seven. His four Lieutenants among him immediately proceeded to do so. Two of them, White and Morris walked towards him. Stevenson and Ford headed to a group of others, most of which had jus awoken. The Major was going to accompany them while the Captain would accompany the group which contained Hayes. He and six others would take the direct route to the city while the others would flank to the left of the city. They were to enter quietly and make a command post somewhere in the city, find a working long-range comm. system and radio for a pickup. The task wouldn’t be easy; the city is already swarming with Covenant forces. Hayes thought for a few seconds before putting his helmet back on. He caught up with the rest of the group as they started their advance to the city.

“Damn buggers. When will you learn?”
Lieutenant Colonel Isaac Romero, who was already engaged with the Covenant forces in New Mombassa, knew he would have a hard time getting past the enemy checkpoint with only the few men left of his squad. He wore a field cap rather than a helmet. He had a small soul patch beard, a brown strip of hair between his lower lip and the underside of his chin. His face was old. He was, of course, thirty-five years old. His short brown hair was a perfect length for regulations. His face was covered in stubble due to lack of time to shave. He wore the same standard UNSC Marines Corps armour all the other Marines wore. He fired his BR55HB SR Battle Rifle. He and Gunnery Sergeant Maxwell McCray were debating over a game of poker the night before.
“He was bluffing. I could tell. His left eye always twitches when he bluffs.”
He’d been firing between sentences. Romero laughed a warm, fatherly laugh.
“Well, I now know I can count on you to see such strange minor details, you strange man, you.”
Romero was known for his laid-back attitude. He would joke about anything when he felt like it. The Covenant forces kept coming relentlessly, and Romero and his men were quickly running short on ammo. He ordered them to fall back. The enemy broke through and three of the marines that were fleeing were shot. Two killed instantly and the other attempting to crawl to safety. He was taken by a Sangheili warrior, clad in gold armour, by the neck with one hand and, with a swift motion, lifted from the ground. The warrior removed a curved stick that resembled a dumbbell. He activated it and a two bladed sustained energy pulse was released. He was executing the Marine. The blade protruded into the man’s chest as he kicked and screamed. Blood fell to the ground and the body soon after. The rest of the Marines ran, getting pots shots off the smaller Unggoy. Most were wearing orange armour and were easy to pick off. A couple of the larger Kig-yar were attempting to pick off the zigzagging squad. Behind them were the much larger Mgalekgolo, moving in a pair, but slowly. They didn’t fire, yet. Up above, there was a swarm of Yanme’e heading in the same direction. It was an ambush. Romero had a feeling in the back of his head. He knew this was going to end in disaster. New Mombassa was theirs, and he could do nothing about it. He was told reinforcements were to arrive, and yet he was left hanging.
“Keep moving! Don’t let them shoot you! Don’t let them touch you!”
His yell was heard by the now three remaining soldiers of his ever reducing squad. They ran, fast, but the enemy came faster. Everything was over; they knew that they’d share the fate of their fallen comrades. A bullet whizzed past Isaac’s head. The round penetrated the Sangheili’s shielding and helmet, as a purplish blood blew out of the extra-terrestrial’s head. He fell to the ground, already dead from the trauma to the brain. Romero thought he had a guardian angel, until he looked in front of him, and he saw something better. Reinforcements had arrived. The promised ODST strike group was here, but only a day late. A couple of them were snipers, firing at the distant and more powerful enemies, while most of the others, including Hayes, were laying down covering fire for the now three men. The enemies continued their attacks, until their numbers were reduced. The Yanme’e did not dare descend to engage, but the Mgalekgolo did. They attacked with powerful swings, which knocked two ODST and one Marine to the right with its gun. The other crushed a few with its shield. They started to fire at the exposed bellies of the many creatures that lived as one in the giant suit of armour. Orange blood flied though the area, but they did not yield. One fired its canon in a form of a light green beam, which it spread around. One ODST threw a grenade which landed behind it. It exploded, damaging the back and spraying a lot of blood all over. These things just wouldn’t go down. Romero lifted his BR55. The display showed there were twenty-one rounds left in his clip. He fired from cover at the exposed back of the injured one. It fell after a few shots, but the other turned to engage. As it fired, Romero ducked and the others were able to attack it with everything they had. It fell after massive damage to its back. They were victorious, but had lost a few. Romero was alone with one Marine, as the ODST were reduced to less than half of what they had before. Nine ODST were killed along with the one Marine. Morris checked the bodies.
“Well, Captain Gerard and First Lieutenant Stevenson are dead. Corporal Bridgemond’s gone too. We lost Private Baker and Sergeant Major Ford. Private Porter and Private Jones were killed too.”
“Wait, over here too. I think It’s Lance-Corporal Hayes and Sergeant Milligan. They’re both gone too.”
Morris was shocked when White mentioned Hayes’ name. He rushed over to check. He had no pulse. He removed his helmet. Eyes wide open, blood dripping from the left corner of his mouth and his left nostril. His medium brown hair flowed though the wind. Lifeless blue-grey stared into nothingness. His young face slowly turned pale and cold. Morris closed Nathan’s eyes and replaced his helmet on his head. The remaining men gathered.
“Okay, let’s see who we’ve go left. You all know me, except you two. I’m First Lieutenant Morris. Let’s see, Second Lieutenant White, Private Nabakov, Private Lange and Gunnery Sergeant Matheson. How about you two?”
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel Isaac Romero and this is, uh, I didn’t catch your name, son.”
When Morris turned to look at the other Marine’s face, he saw Hayes’ face there. Same eyes, same shape, same everything. His voice even sounded oddly the same, especially the words that came out.
“Oh, my name and rank, yes sir. I’m Lance-Corporal John Hayes.”
Everybody was on edge about what had happened, and to hear this come from the Marine didn’t help, but it actually caused some unnerve in the others.
“Are you his, um, Nathan Hayes’ twin brother or something?”
The Marine nodded. He was the same age, held the same rank, but was much greener than his older twin, Nathan. He didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that his brother died, but it was really suppressed emotions. He didn’t want to look like a baby in front of everyone. A few awkward seconds past until silence was broken, when Romero spoke.
“Well, I’m the superior officer here. I’ll take command, them. Morris, you’ll be my First Lieutenant until we get to Voi. There, we’ll set prepare for any oncoming attacks that might occur there. We’ll be well equipped and safe. Let’s get moving, people!”
They moved on out of the city, leaving the dead. They had grabbed whatever ammo they could, first, of course, but left as soon as possible. They radioed in a Pelican drop ship to come pick them up. The eleven of them could fit in it, since maximum capacity is fifteen people: ten sitting and five standing. They exited the city and waited. Behind them, and ongoing battle in New Mombassa in other areas of the city continued.

Somewhere in the outskirts between New Mombassa and Voi was a group of outposts that were to keep watch for any oncoming vehicles. Sitting on the stairs that led to the top of the bunker was Private Jared Sharp, who was preparing his weapons. He loaded a full clip into his MA5C and laid it beside him. He took and M7S/Caseless submachine gun and loaded a clip into that as well. He liked to have a SMG rather than an M6G pistol as his sidearm. The SMG might have more recoil and be less powerful, but they have about the same accuracy and distance. The SMG, however, has an automatic firing mode and has more rounds per clip. He also liked the feel of a two handed weapon rather than a one handed one. It also had a suppressor attached to the weapon if he ever needed it. His helmet lay beside the MA5C, so his bald head remained uncovered. He didn’t have any form of facial hair except the light stubble that grew on his face and his reddish-brown eyebrows. His commander, who wasn’t but a Staff Sergeant, walked down the steps. His voice was coarse and harsh. He told Sharp to get ready. He replied in his heavy British accented voice. They were heading out. He assembled the troops. He said another squad would be taking their place. They got ready and headed out. The Sergeant said it was a distress signal. They weren’t sure who it was, but they knew it was human.
After a long walk in the direction of the distress call, the Sergeant pointed to a hill. He said that was where it was coming from. He ordered Sharp to take point and another Private, named Grissom, to take the rear. As he emerged from the other side of the hill, he saw a squad of soldiers on the ground. Six were Marines, but the other two were more than just that. They were Spartan super soldiers. He rushed down, trying to avoid breaking any bones on the way down. The others followed, all but one. When he got to the bottom, he could see they weren’t sunbathing. The six Marines seemed to have discernable bite marks on their chests. It appeared to be in the shape of a leech mouth formation, but he couldn’t be sure, with the size and all. The six others reached the bottom, none noticing Grissom wasn’t there with them.
“Do you see that?” Sharp said, “Those bite marks look like some form of rounded tooth formation. Like a leech. The dead seem to be deprived of blood too.”
“What about these two?” A Marine asked about the Spartans. “What’s wrong with them?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re dead-“
He was cut off by the waking of one of them. He stood tall, about seven feet tall with all the sand green armour. His was only Mark V armour, since he hadn’t been given the chance to upgrade.
“I’m Staff Sergeant Roebuck. State your rank and designation.”
The Spartan crouched and picked up an M90 Close Assault Weapons System, or, to cut it short, a shotgun. It latched onto the magnetic plates on the back of his armour. He then took an M7/Caseless SMG and latched it to the magnetic plates on his right thigh. He then turned to look at the Sergeant and finally spoke in a stable, indifferent voice.
“Command Chief Master Sergeant Kyle-138 United Nations Air Force. Now, Sergeant, there’s something here. I don’t know what it is, so don’t ask me to explain it, but it killed the Marines and possibly that other Spartan. I feigned death to avoid it. It worked. My suit was able to hide any vitals that would be seen heard or felt. It seems to suck the blood out of the body, using its large teeth in a round jaw setting, kind of like a leech, but bigger and bipedal. We must leave, now.”
The Sergeant nodded when he finally noticed Grissom was gone. 138 said it might be the creature and that they’d have to leave immediately. He started to run up the hill and the others followed suit, except one, who had been caught by the creature who seemed to burrow under the sand and emerge to attack. Some watched as it sucked the blood and the life out of the Marine. All that was left was a dry carcass, devoid of life. It dived into the sand, but had to go around the rocky formation they ran up and down so thoughtlessly. They kept running. This time, it had jumped and almost got hold of Sharp and Roebuck. They narrowly escaped it. The bunkers were near. They were built on solid rock, so it would have to emerge from the sand to attack. They were safe, but with two men lost. They relieved the other squad, which was dispersed among the seven bunkers. They waited until the night, but nothing came. They assumed it had given up and then got the call. They were to be reassigned to Voi for defensive purposes. They had three days to get ready to leave, as a Pelican would arrive after three days to take them out of there.





Note: This chapter is shorter than the first by a whole page, I think. This is about four pages in MSWord with character size 12. Enjoy!

~Bioskorpion
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

Post  Blood Raven on Mon Jul 13, 2009 7:01 pm

Shocked

dude this is really goooood!

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

Post  Tabula Rasa on Tue Jul 14, 2009 11:03 am

Ain't it?

If only we could get him back.
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Re: Halo: Relics. My own personal Halo fan fiction.

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