Halo: Vengance (Ch. 1) - PG13

[0mikr0n]

Rated PG-13 for some violence and foul language.

Disclaimer: I do not own Halo. It is owned solely by Bungie Studios and, more specifically, Microsoft Corperation.



This story is set deeply into the Halo universe, but it will turn out to be told from the perspective of a Marine. Following in the adventures of the Master Chief, you will get a different perspective into the battles... that of a Lieutenant in the UNSC Marine Corps.

If you've played Halo and/or read any of the Halo novels, this is for you. If you haven't, I've tried my best to broaden the audience by re-explaining everything in the intro. I'll also do my best to describe the Covenant soldiers and characters to the best of my ability, although it's always easier to understand if you've played the game itself. Enjoy!








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Halo: Vengance

By 0mikr0n
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The "In Amber Clad", a light space cruiser with the official designation of "FFG-142", looked surprisingly small from the outside, but was indeed quite expansive from the inside. It could hold host to over thirty D77-TC Pelican troop dropships, twenty-five M12-LRV "Warthog" light reconissance jeeps, and about six M808B Scorpion Main Battle Tanks. In addition to that roster of vehicles, it holds host to at least a battalion of four-hundred Marines and a crew of three-hundred-fifty Navy. The UNSC had recently downsized their ships, stripping size for speed and maneuverability. Usually, the ship was helmed by Commander Miranda Keyes, the daughter of the late (and famed) Medal of Honor winner Captain Jacob Keyes.

But none of this was at the forefront of Second Lieutenant Albert Scott Craft's mind, even as he looked over the hull of the cruiser from the relative saftey of the Cairo Space Station. As far as he knew, the only thing he thought of when he thought of the In Amber Clad was "home," and he liked it that way. Indeed, he felt woozy as he attempted to syncronize the movement of the space station's deck with his legs; most likely a biproduct of getting too used to the regular bobbing of the In Amber Clad.

Lieutenant Craft however, being a United Nations Space Command (UNSC) Marine Corps footsoldier, loved being on solid planetary ground even more than the cruiser. The brutal fact was that he hadn't set foot on a single planet since he was on Reach... and now Reach was gone. Now, as he looked out the second window down upon Earth, he thought about how fragile it was, and how vulnerable. Right now, the planet looked at peace... but the harsh reality of it was that they were at war.

They had been fighting the Covenant, a theocratic conglomerate of several alien races, for well over twenty years. Even in 2552 AD, the Human race still fights a losing battle against this Covenant. The truth was that they had the best technology, the best cruisers, the best shields, the best weaponry... better everything.

Craft didn't like to think about his home planet anymore; Reach was the closest colony to Earth. The Covenant had found it and completely obliterated it after garrisoning the planet for a whole week. The Covenant usually destroyed Human planetary colonies immediately, but for some reason they stayed for a while. That was beyond Craft's comprehension, so he didn't think much abot that either. Luckily, the Covenant had no clue as to Earth's whereabouts yet, and Craft was thankful for that.

Lieutenant Craft was ordered off the ship to attend the awards ceremony aboard the Cairo, and he had to wear his Class-A uniform. He hated the thing; it was stiff and uncomfortable, but it looked extremely nice. Craft wasn't nearly as decorated as some of the other people around him in the boarding hall of the In Amber Clad, but that was a good thing; the more decorations one had, the more they were sent off to combat. As much as he loved it, fighting the Covenant troops still scared the hell out of him.

He was armed, however; he had a standard M6D magnum sidearm, a pistol usually offered to officers. It was a twelve-round automatic slugslinger. It was cutting it close with the old fourty-five magnums that existed way back in the turn-of-the-millenia days, and it had saved his life quite a few times from charging enemy troops.

Craft tore his eyes away from the window and glanced at his watch. Fourteen-twenty-five standard military time, five minutes from the ceremony. Although he could have stayed there and continued to gaze over Earth's beautiful, glassy surface throughout the proceeds and only get an earful from his superiors, he decided to spare himself the trouble. He turned on his heel and walked professionally into the station's main hallway.

~~~~~

Craft boarded a small tram that led to the command center of the Cairo Space Station, the location of the ceremony. He was secretly glad that the proceeds only consisted of a few awards to be given out; that meant less time standing at attention and idly clapping. He stared out the window of the tram and was once again met with the sight of Earth, surrounded by many satellites and the other space stations.

"Hello, lieutenant," chirped a voice from his left. He turned, and finally noticed that Commander Miranda Keyes was sitting right next to him. He knew that she didn't know him personally, but rather spoke out of military formality. He smiled.

"Hello, ma'am." He turned back to the window.

The space stations orbitting the Earth were actually large defense cannons, part of an organized defense net. The main guns of the stations, the Magnetic Accelerator Cannon, fired twenty-foot-tall slugs of dupleted Uranium-238, and packed enough force to break through the shields of a Covenant cruiser, destroy the ship, and toss it aside like a misused ragdoll... although Reach had the same defenses and didn't fare any better than they had hoped. Craft pushed the thought out of his mind.

The tram halted, and Craft stood. Keyes left the tram first as the doors slid open; she had stood before anyone else had. It was a short walk from the exiting area to the doors of the command center, and the lieutenant walked to the door. As he entered the expansive, well-lit room, he turned left up a short flight of stairs to the second level. It was strange how the front of the command center seemed almost like a stage, with large windowpanes bordering the room from the space outside. Right now, all of the space stations' command center windows were facing the direction of Reach, to honor the innocent who had lost their lives or loved ones. It was a subtle touch; Craft appreciated it. Truth be told, he had lost his entire family on Reach, as well, including his wife.

He sat for four minutes, and then glanced at his watch once more. Fourteen-thirty-seven, seven minutes late. It didn't matter to the lieutenant; he had nowhere to go anyway. He looked idly around, shook hands with the captain who sat to his left, and then a titanium-green glow caught his eye as the command center's entrance door opened with an audible hiss.

The fully armored cyborg walked as if in slow motion, toward the front deck of the command center. The golden glow of his helmet's visor almost blinded everyone in the room both literally and with amazement. The soldier in the green armor was easily the most decorated man - if anyone could call him a man - in the entire UNSC military. Although unconfirmed, it's rumored that he had killed over fifty-thousand Covenant soldiers in his lifetime. He was a SPARTAN-II ranked "Master Chief Petty Officer" in the Navy, a soldier that knows nothing more than warfare and who posessed superhuman abilities which have been installed by technology.

This born-and-bred soldier walked side-by-side with Sergeant Major Avery J. Johnson, another well-known soldier who had a reputation as "that Marine Corps badass". Despite his reputation, however, he was not without a humorous side; the Marines under his command were constantly inspired by his ability both in combat and in leadership. Although he was an NCO, even those with the rank colonel respected him utmostly. The black man also wore a Marine Corps Class A jacket, the very same dress uniform that most everyone else in the room was wearing.

The pair stopped at the front of the room just in front of Admiral Hood at the head of the command center, alongside Commander Keyes. The two men saluted Hood, and he returned the salute. Instead he announced, "Gentlemen. We're lucky to have you back."

Just then, the admiral's assistant leaned inward and whispered something to him. The admiral's facial expression changed from his usual public smile to a frown. He then turned to the transparent screen behind him, which suddenly displayed graphs and numbers. He spoke. "Go ahead Cortana."

A small holographic panel lit up alongside the screen, and a blue-white womanly figure appeared upon it, no taller than a foot tall. She, too, was well known: Cortana, an artificial intelligence construct of the highest caliber. "Another whisper, sir, near Io. We have probes enroute."

Hood's frown deepened as he turned back to the three soldiers standing in front of him uniformally. Craft leaned forward and squinted as he tried to read the screen's schematics. His mind went unsatisfied, and Admiral Hood spoke to the trio. "I apologize, but we're going to have to make this quick."

Cortana's image noticed the men in front of her, standing at attention. "You look nice," she said. The Chief and Johnson both thanked her simoutaneously, as they weren't quite sure who she was complimenting. She smiled and flickered away.

Hood spoke now to Johnson. "Sergeant Major, the Colonial Cross is awarded for acts of singular daring and devotion for a soldier of the United Earth Space Corps. Your courage in the face of danger merits this award utmostly. Congratulations." He pinned the award on his uniform, endured the brief interlude of applause, and then turned to Commander Keyes as he plucked another medal from the stand next to him.

"Commander Miranda Keyes: your father's actions were in keeping with the highest traditions of military service. His bravery in the face of impossible odds reflects great credit upon himself... and the UNSC. The Navy has lost one of its best." He handed her the medal. Lieutenant Craft wasn't sure, but he could see a sparkle in her eyes. She was crying.

Before the admiral could retrieve the third award for the Master Chief, an alarm sounded. This time, the admiral's eyes seemed to fill with fear. He wheeled around and faced the screen as Cortana's figure appeared once more.

"Slipspace ruptures," Cortana said. Directly off our battle cluster."

"Show me."

The screen schematics shifted and melted into a tactical overview of the Sol solar system. "Fifteen Covenant capital ships holding position just outside the killzone."

Craft shuddered; he couldn't believe his eyes or his ears. The room below him immediately erupted into a frenzied furor as soldiers filtered in and out of the room, and people had assumed their positions. The Covenant had located Earth... and Judgement Day had arrived at last

~~~~~

Second Lieutenant Craft bounded out of the room at a full sprint, and met up with Johnson in the armory just outside the command center.

"Sergeant Major?" he chimed. "Need some backup?"

The black man grunted gruffly as he removed his service cap and lifted a large, mountable machinegun and slung it over his shoulder. "I wouldn't mind a little help... but would you mind getting out of my friend's way please, lieutenant?"

Craft turned around and almost had a heart attack; the seven-foot-tall Master Chief, SPARTAN-117, stood unarmed right in front of him... all one-and-a-half tons of him, muscle included. The lieutenant immediately made way for the man, who nodded at the Marine and grasped a pair of M7A1 submachine-guns from the weapons rack. As the armored behemoth ran down the hallway, the sergeant laughed. "Yeah, he get's that a lot. Quick, load up and follow me."

"Wilco." Craft grabbed a BR55A1 assault rifle - his weapon of choice - and a few magazines for it. He followed the sergeant down past the armory into a small entrance hall, and had found that a few barricades had been erected already. As he glanced out the window, Craft noticed a violet, curvy, and fast Covenant boarding craft slam into the ship. The deck shook, but the lieutenant kept his footing. There was a muffled explosion, followed by a short volley of muffled gunfire and plasma rifle repeaters. The Master Chief stood at the bottom base of the staircase, his weapons aimed at the door.

The sergeant had mounted the machinegun on the top of the staircase leading down into the entrance hall, facing the blast door that separated their section from the boarder's entry point; he was having a conversation over the radio discussing the Covenant operational method for their arrangement of squads.

Just then, a pinprick of yellow light had appeared at the center base of the blast door... the Covenant boarding party was going to blow down the door. Everyone took cover, and the sergeant bellowed. "Put a field of fire on that bulkhead; as soon as that door opens, let 'em have it!"

It was excellent advice; Lieutenant Craft stole another glance across the room at the Master Chief, and then reached forward to rack a round into his own rifle. That day was more than just Judgement Day; it was a time for revenge... for everyone in that room. Craft prepared himself to fire as the door blew off it's constraints...

And he grinned out of satisfaction from the thought of giving hell to those who had ruined everything he had ever loved.



To be continued.

[0mikr0n]

For those of you who have never played Halo 2 before, there is a small clip of the awards ceremony at the below link.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=PcWxZbN5GaI& ... 20cutscene

Don't bother worrying about the scene with the aliens; that's a sidestory that's involved in the Halo storyline, but it's going to be irrelevant in this story. It is, however, a great opportunity to see what some of the aliens look like before they're shown here in the story.