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  • Subject: Halo Fanfiction - The Dark's Uprising
Subject: Halo Fanfiction - The Dark's Uprising

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Hey everyone. This is my third fanfiction, after 2 unfinished, abandoned tries. Please me constructive criticism, and try and leave a comment to keep this active!

Chapter One
I’m here. Hit the lights.

0700
January 4, 2551
UNSC Base of Operations
Old Mombasa, Africa

A loud alarm clock blared, waking first Lieutenant Paul Jackson out of his reverie. He groggily punched the alarm clock, and then sat up in bed. At 20 years of age, Jackson wasn’t exactly the oldest in the United Nations Space Corporation (UNSC), but he certainly wasn’t the youngest either. Since the war with the Covenant, an alien species that wanted to destroy humanity, started, all men sixteen to thirty five were drafted into the military. Those drafted men were the young ones. Brigadier General Adam Sylvia was fifty three years old; had served in the military since he was 25, and had 104 medals. Jackson stood up, and pulled a brown UNSC uniform over his undershirt. He picked up his Desert Eagle pistol, and jammed it into his holster. Jackson’s boots, however, were special. Given only to people who were MVP’s of their squads, they were a coveted accessory in the UNSC. Jackson served in Recon Force One, a team that stood by for emergency’s, like covenant break-ins, and very few times dealt with civilian emergency’s, like fires, or bank robberies. His team had some of the highest rankings in the UNSC Recon forces. Jackson finished putting on his clothes, walked across his monotonous room, opened the door, and stepped outside.
The hallway outside Jackson’s room was the exact opposite of his room. While Jackson’s room was drab, the hallway was alive with activity. All manners of people were running to and fro, from UNSC army-men to civilians, helping with UNSC research. The hallway itself wasn’t all that special. The walls were the same monotonous gray, the floor was hardened concrete, and the whole hallway basically gave off an empty feel. Jackson started walking down the hallway, eager to get some coffee, but before he got there, he was interrupted by one of the research civilians living in the UNSC base with everyone else.
“What can I do for you, Erin?” Jackson asked as the civilian researcher woman glared at him. Even though the civilians were inside a military base, the military hierarchy did not apply to them, and so the civilians could disobey direct orders from even a high ranking official. This often made them impossible to argue with.
“Did you finish that survey I sent to you last week?!” Erin was a woman of 35, but she dressed like she was 40. She was wearing a full red work suit, and that, combined with a wide belly, made her look way out of place. That, and the fact that she wouldn’t ever talk about anything other then work.
Jackson resumed talking. “I haven’t exactly had time to finish your survey, because there were three Covenant attacks last week, and my team had to deal with all of them.
“Excuses, excuses,” Erin rolled on and on. “Make sure you have the survey done by next week.”
“Whatever you say, Erin,” Jackson said back. He waited until Erin walked down the hall and out of sight, and then resumed walking towards the coffee machine. When he got there, he poured himself a large cup of cappuccino, and took a large sip. Jackson then walked down the hall, took three rights, and ended up at his office door. He opened the door, and was greeted with the sight of his BR55 rifle. It was always in his office in case he needed it. He walked over to his office chair, sat down, and powered up his drab UNSC work computer. He sighed. When the computer finally finished loading up, Jackson accessed his email, where he opened a file called: UNSC survey #34. Jackson sat back in his chair, and began answering the questions.
Five thousand miles away, and two thousand miles above earth, a Covenant attack ship loomed. The shipmaster was yelling to everyone on board. They were getting ready for a direct assault on Earth. All for the Elites and Grunts were suiting up, and grabbing signature weapons. Plasma rifles for the Elites and plasma pistols for the Grunts. When all of the Covenant troops were suited up, the shipmaster yelled, “We’re going in!”, and pressed the slipspace button. The shipmaster then typed in coordinates, and the purple Covenant Assault Vehicle disappeared, and the then-noisy realm of space was suddenly quiet.
Five seconds later, the purple ship emerged above the city of New Mombasa, in Africa. The shipmaster had chosen the site well. One million people lived here, and if the Covenant got their way, nothing would be left. The shipmaster opened the back hatch, Elites and Grunts jumped out, and then the shipmaster hit the button to fire the main battle cannons.
At the same time, two hundred miles away, in New Mombasa, Jackson heard the blare of the Emergency Alarm. He started, and then ran for his BR55, which was loyally leaning against the wall. He grabbed, it, checked that everything worked, and then ran for the emergency hatch across the hall from his office. He slid down the hatch on a rope, and landed in a garage that housed a Pelican, one of the UNSC’s main flying vehicles.
“She’s all fueled up and ready to go!” the pelican pilot was saying to Eric Vosh, a fellow member of Recon Force One. He climbed into the hold, and found all five members of his squad already seated.
“What took you so long?” asked D’Amico Andrews, a Private First Class.
“I ran into Erin,” Jackson said, to sympathetic groans. Everyone knew Erin, and everyone knew she could be a pain. Well, most of the time she was a pain.
“Buckle up!” yelled the pilot. “Covie attack at New Mombasa! Hope you make it out in one piece!” With that, the pelican fired up, and they flew out of the base at full speed.

***

Twenty minutes later, Jackson and his team, Recon Force One, landed in New Mombasa, where the Covenant attack was in full force. Plasma flew everywhere, many buildings were lit on fire, and Covenant troops were storming the buildings that weren’t blown up. The whole scene was a mess. The main Covenant forces that were in the city were Elites and Grunts. They took up most of the space, firing their short distance weapons on anything that moved. There were also a few Jackal Snipers, thin aliens that prowled the city’s rooftops, shooting anybody in sight with their plasma-powered sniper rifles. Based on “The Covenant Field book”, by John 117 of the Spartan program, the alien rifles could travel a mile a second, and anything they hit was basically fried. If it hit your head, it was instant death, but if it hit anywhere else, then you died a slow, agonizing death by plasma poisoning.
Jackson spoke into his vest radio. “UNSC emergency base number one, this is Recon Squad Alpha. Do you read me?”
“We read you Alpha. What do you need?” The voice on the line was the exact opposite of the battlefield; it was soft and relaxed, while the battlefield was intense and loud.
“We need a full battle team, with air support and tanks, over in the city of New Mombasa, right now!”
“Roger that Alpha Squad. Your full battle team has been dispatched. They’ll be there in thirty minutes. Can you hold in there for that long?”
Jackson hung up the radio abruptly, for he had heard all that he had needed to hear. “You guys hear that? We have to stay alive for thirty minutes, and then we have all the air support and ground support that we can eat!”
“Ooh-Rah! The marines on Recon Force One yelled their approval, and then quieted down for instructions.
“Okay. There are multiple Covenant bases stationed inside the city, from what I saw in the Pelican. There is one here – Jackson pointed at a building on a map of the city, here – he pointed at another one, and here. We need to take out these bases so that our support can move in without any major casualties. Vosh, you take base Alpha. Andrews, you take base Beta. Dunn, you take base Charlie.” Austin Dunn was a Gunnery Sergeant, and his specialty was strategy. He could figure out how to blow up a Covenant safe house from fifty feet away without any casualties, and could defuse a bomb in five seconds. To put it simply, he was the brains of Recon Force One. Jackson continued talking. “I’ll take point up on this rooftop, and I’ll shoot the crap out of these Jackal Snipers. Anybody have a sniper rifle I could borrow?” Vosh reached into his backpack, and pulled out a fully de-assembled sniper rifle. “Nice,” Jackson commented. “Now, let’s move out!” Recon Force One split up, and ran down the multiple roads in the city of New Mombasa Jackson however, started assembling his sniper rifle, and when he was done, he ran up to a building, climbed its multiple stairs onto the roof, and began sniping.
Boom
Boom
Boom
Each shot represented one kill. Jackson’s sniping skills were superb. One by one, he took out all of the snipers on the various roofs. He then de-assembled the sniper rifle, and ran back down the stairs. He consulted his map, and then headed towards Dunn’s position to give him covering fire.
When Jackson got to Dunn's position, he found Dunn under heavy fire. He took out his BR55 rifle that he had been carrying since the trip, and stuck a clip in it. He drew the bolt, and started firing. Grunts and Elites were dropping everywhere, but there were just to many. Either: one, Dunn and Jackson would run out of ammo, or two, they would be overrun by enemy forces.
“Lets get out of here! Fall back!” Jackson shouted to Dunn. The battle was really a sight to behold. Two marines were holding their own against a large Covenant battalion. But not for long. Jackson and Dunn were hurriedly retracing their steps in an attempt to escape the battlefield. The sounds of plasma was everywhere, and Dunn suddenly shouted.

  • 03.25.2008 6:03 PM PDT

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“Ahh! I'm hit!”, Dunn screamed from behind Jackson. Dunn suddenly slowed his pace of walking; it obviously had been effected by the bullet. “God, its plasma!” Dunn's leg, where he got hit, was scorched black, and bleeding all over. “I don't think I can make it! Go on without me!” Dunn yelled feebly.
“Nobody gets left behind,” Jackson said in a stern manner. Now get on my back. I'm carrying you. Dunn awkwardly clambered onto Jackson's back, and Jackson, abandoning his BR55 rifle, ran for cover. “We'll head towards Andrew's position, and call him to fall back towards Vosh's area. This battle is lost. We have to get out of here before we suffer any casualties. Lets go!” Jackson ran as fast as he could with Dunn on his back, but the Covenant enemies were not about to just let them go. They were angered by the attack on their base, and they were coming after Jackson and Dunn with all the forces they had. It was a stunning scene. The whole base had emptied; a line of Elites and Grunts running after them. Jackson had to swerve and dodge frequently to avoid the plasma scorching their boots and the ground beside them. The buildings that Jackson was running behind were taking most of the plasma toll though. The already scorched building sides were turning blacker every moment, and a few looked as if they were about to fall.
Five minutes later, after a series of complex twists and turns, they had lost the Covenant battallion. Just as good, because Jacksons' legs were about to wear down. His pace slowed more and more until he came to a complete standstill, putting Dunn on the ground. “God, I need a rest,” Jackson complained. “But we can't stop now.” He was using the last bit of strength in his body as he once again lifted Dunn off the floor and began walking this time, to Andrew's position.
After a weary ten minutes of walking through the battle-scarred roads of New Mombasa, Jackson reached Andrews, who was hiding behind a wall, as plasma fire sounded nearby. When Andrews saw the other two, he jumped up and grabbed his pistol from it's holster. When he recognized who he was about to shoot at though, he relaxed and spoke.
“Whats wrong with you, sneaking up on me like that?” He shook his head. “But I'm glad you came. There's Covenant all over this place, and if I want to take this base, I'll need some backup. Dunn, your base already taken care of?”
“No,” Dunn said. “As you can see, from the fact that I am disabled now and cannot walk on one leg, you can tell that we have not, in fact taken care of the base. WE are falling back! We'll get overrun immediately if we stay!”
“Just as well,” Andrews remarked. “I'm not exactly eager to stay in this place either.”
Jackson interrupted. “We're going to pick up Vosh at his Base A, and then get out of here as soon as we can! Now lets move marines! Andrews, can we get out this way without being spotted?”
“Yes we can, sir!” Andrews' voice still dictated respect for his supiriors, even in the midst of battle.
“Then lets go!” Jackson, with Dunn still on his shoulders, and Andrews following closely, sprinted out of the building. He took out his radio, and radioed Vosh. Ten seconds later, the apparent was apparent. “He's not answering his radio.” Jackson said to his team. “We have to move to his position Double Time!” Jackson resumed running, now at an even more frenzied rate. Andrews followed.
This time, to get to Vosh's base, they had to run less distance, as the bases were each a less distance apart. When they got there, they stared at a gruesome scene. Two Elites were carring Vosh's apparently dead body to a table. Then the took plasma blades, and cut his body up, blood gushing everywhere as they did so. Then, they took the body to an incinerator, and burned it in flames.
“God,” breathed Jackson.
“Oh. My. God.” Andrews said in horror. Thats when he noticed the Elite staring at him full on.
“Our cover is blown!” Andrews screamed. “Move, move, MOVE!” Jackson, carrying Dunn, could do nothing but sprint. Andrews though, silenced the Elite that saw them with three bursts of his BR55 rifle, and then followed after them as fast as he could. They ran for miles without stopping, glancing behind their shoulders every few seconds to make sure nobody was chasing them. They finally arived at a building that was not to beat-up, and was not infested with Covenant. They camped their for what seemed like an eternity. Nobody spoke. They were busy feeling grief for Eric Vosh, their fallen comrad. A few minutes later though, all of them looked up at each other. They could faintly hear the sound of human airplanes and tanks! Jackson took out his radio communicator, and signaled the human batallian their position. A helecopter flew out of the sky, and seconds later, the whole team, excluding Eric Vosh, flew out of New Mombosa, and back to the UNSC base, what, after the battle at New Mombasa, felt like heaven.

End Chapter.

  • 03.25.2008 6:04 PM PDT