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For those of you site vigilantes, you will notice that this is a re-done copy of my work, Halo: Pyschic. The ending for that story was tacked on and didn't really make sense. Also, I received inspiration from reading the Halo books by Nylun and Diez. By the way, some parts that seem "thoughtful" are actually Joseph's thoughts. I don't know how to get italics online. Please review and post comments, I am new to fan fiction and could use some guidance.


1400 Hours, November 3, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Sol System, Planet Earth Western Europe, on Omaha Beachhead

It was Joseph's first week at the UNSC training camp at Reach. The first thing the recruits had to do was to find their respective talents. He was tested to be a helljumper, the most elite of the marines. You didn't become a helljumper. You were a helljumper. His drill sergeant kept yelling at him to jump off the training tower, but he couldn't do it. He was afraid of heights. One day he overcame his fear and did jump, but it was too late to be considered for the position. JUMP…
Oh holy God, I am lucky. He then threw himself off the edge of the observation post, out and over the water.
Joseph was somewhat of a rarity in the year 2552, mainly for his religion. Humanity had given up on a deity in exchange for science. Most people still believed in a divine watcher, though they didn't necessarily follow the Ten Commandments. People actually had more moral now then they did back in the turn of the millennium, but it was based on setting an example for others more than it was for getting into heaven. Soldiers and citizens alike still read the bible, but they didn't take it to heart like true religious people did.
Joseph had had these premonitions ever since he joined the UNSC. He didn't know what had happened to him. It could be a genetic mutation, or God watching over him, Joseph just didn't know. Every time his life was in danger, he received these odd flashbacks. The meaningful moments in his life were brought back when he was about to lose it.
These visions have saved my life a ton of times. If only all the soldiers could protect themselves like this. Then the Covenant wouldn't be so peppy every time they tried to invade one of our planets.
BOOM!
The watchtower crumbled under a Covenant orbital strike. The hot plasma, probably from a Covenant cruiser, incinerated his less gifted squad members in its fiery embrace. The structure dissinegrated and the outpost fell on itself like a boulder crushing straws.
He clumsily prepared himself for impact with the churning ocean below.
SPLASH! The water was murky, and he could barely tell where he was. The lack of oxygen left him dazed and confused. Then he saw the sunlight shining down and reoriented himself. Joseph swam for the surface, struggling through the anti-submarine nets that were designed to keep Covenant out, not humans. Command thought it would be a good idea since reports of a Covenant seafloor excavation had gone out. A team of Spartans stopped the operation before it could be completed, luckily. Once he reached the surface, he tiredly swam to the beach and dragged himself onto the shore. Joseph half ran, half crawled his way up to a bunker and fell in. He then picked up the radio with shaky hand movements and switched to the regional FLEETCOM's frequency, hoping to get some reinforcements.
"This is Colonel Joseph Grant, UNSC I.D. Number 014-287-012. We have a Covenant orbital strike at watch point B on the Atlantic Coast, British Channel!" Joseph yelled weakly into the radio.
"What squads are in your area?" asked the man on the radio, his voice fuzzy.
Another radio joined their frequency, " Master Sergeant Kelsey here. A, B, and D Squads are searching the rubble for survivors of G Squad; so far we've only found two. The Johnson brothers were taking a leak and weren't hit by the strike. Are there any more survivors?"
FLEETCOM radioed back, "Colonel Grant just asked the same thing. By the way, I'm Ted Charleston, senior monitor at FLEETCOM. I've sent three Pelicans and some Warthogs to your location. An admiral will assist in the operation."
Well we're gonna need it," said Joseph, while he looked over the water to see a battle group of three approaching Phantoms, protected by a squadron of Seraph fighters.

1405 Hours, November 3, 2553 (Military Calendar)
Sol System, Planet Earth Above Earth, Covenant Capital Ship Forgiven Sin

The Brute was angry.
High Command had humiliated him when they sarcastically pointed out that the humans had sent reinforcements to the beachhead. All of the base defenders should have died. Intelligence probably gave him the wrong patrol times on purpose, that way he wouldn't kill all the humans. One man had even thrown himself out of the tower.
If my troops were that smart, I wouldn't have had to worry about the operation.
Why, oh, why had he decided to command the battle from the Capital Ship? The orbital strike would never have missed if he had been on the gun deck to wring their filthy little necks.
If our little operation succeeds, the humans will send reinforcements to the beachhead, while my tribe and I land behind their lines and capture a research center. Intelligence said they were developing over-shields for all soldiers, not just those pieces of machinery they are so fond of. Not to mention I'll redeem myself in front of High Command.
The Brute was angry.

The D77-TC Pelicans began to radio in a they approached the landing zone, "This is Rear Admiral Petrosky here. I want all squads to take up positions in the bunkers and MG nests. I don't want any Covenant to get through to our civilian zones and take any more lives than they already have."
'Pelican One is preparing for touchdown. All UNSC Marines clear the area. Pelicans Two and Three, drop your cargo and keep the Phantoms and Seraphs from using their guns."
Before following the orders, the Pelicans started shooting down the Seraphs. Homing missiles hit two, three fell victim to A Squad's M19 SSM rockets, and the remaining one exploded when hit by another Seraph that crashed into it.
"Roger that, Sir," said Kelsey.
Another commander signaled in, "D Squad requesting permission to use the 'Hogs."
"Permission granted," said Petrosky.
The Pelicans dropped their M12 Warthog LRVs, which were quickly picked up by D Squad.
"First Phantom has touchdown," reported Joseph, through his bunker's radio.
Now let's make sure they don't get back up.
Joseph switched his gun to armor-piercing rounds, radioing the other soldiers to do the same. Their HMGs raked across the troopship's view ports and hit an engine. It exploded in a fireworks display of plasma and fuel. Unable to hold itself straight, the Phantom fell over, crushing it's fleet of Spectres and Ghosts. The debris blocked the exit hatch.
"Someone set a charge in there!" screamed Petrosky over the radio.
A Warthog from D Squad drove up and dropped some heavy charges near the Phantom. Once a safe distance away, the driver detonated the C-4.
BOOM!
The Phantom exploded, destroying everything inside. Only some wayward Grunts were spared. The Grunts, now leaderless, began to dance around in fear and awe of their new surroundings. One of B Squad's snipers chuckled as he aimed at a Grunts head, causing him to miss. The bullet from the S2-AM Sniper Rifle hit a Grunt's methane pack causing it to catch fire. The inferno consumed the Grunt and ignited his squad mates' packs, too. They went down in a flurry of screams and flames.
"Good job Colonel!" yelled Colin, one of the Johnson brothers who was in an MG nest to his right. Colin was timid, but he was a great guy to have covering you with a shotgun.
"Ya, that was one helluva shot," said Nick, the other brother who was in his bunker. Nick was a master with demolitions. He could destroy Scarab walkers with only a little C-4. All you had to do was put the explosives in the right spot.
I better get a medal for that. A nice big shiny one.
"Some of our frigates in space have decided to comb this place with Archer missiles. Get rid of these Phantoms in the next five minutes. That way we can get the hell out of here," yelled the Admiral, static scrambling his voice over the radio, "All guns, concentrate your fire on the rear Phantom, let the front one land."
All of the guns opened fire on second Phantom. It quickly turned into a burning ball of plasma and rubble. It lost altitude and landed in the ocean with a splash.
The first Phantom touched down and deployed three Ghosts, a Spectre, and a squad of Elites. Soon after it was pulverized by rockets from the Pelicans.
D Squad drove up in the Warthogs and destroyed two Ghosts before they could be manned. They pulled away for a second pass, but before they could turn around, the Spectre, manned by a trio of Elites, primed its canon and turned two of the five Warthogs into smoking frames.
"Two minutes left," said Petrosky, his voice growing anxious.
Meanwhile, on the beach the UNSC Marines were having a hard time with the Elites and the remaining Ghost.
The Elites had taken cover behind a dune; where they were protected from any bullets the marines could fire. Meanwhile, the Ghost had destroyed two MG nests with its plasma cannons and was working on a third, when it set off a LOTUS antitank mine. The explosion threw the Ghost into the air and ripped it apart. The driver landed all right but was bisected by machine gun fire from the bunkers.
What to do about those Elites, thought Joseph.
He instinctively ducked as the whine of a SPNKr Missile sounded over his head, and it hit the Spectre that was sneaking up on his bunker, unnoticed by Joseph.
Thank God for that. How did I not notice the Spectre?
Colin Johnson climbed out of his bunker and signaled Joseph over with a quick wave of his hand, "Okay, here's the plan. I climb the dune under Nick's cover fire and pin the Elites down with my shotgun. You circle around, throw a grenade in, and hit them with your assault rifle when they try to run."
"Gotcha," said Joseph.
Colin climbed the dune and began opening fire on the Elites with his M90 Shotgun. The pellets ripped open the ground around the Elites, killing some, and they began to return fire with their assortment of Plasma Pistols and Rifles.
"Thirty seconds," said the Admiral his voice soft now that Joseph was out of the bunker and out of the range of the radio.
Joseph ran around the dune and threw a plasma grenade into a depression were the enemies were. The Elites started hightailing away from the dune to escape the plasma blast. The hot plasma's explosion killed two and another three Elites fell victim to Colin's shotgun. Joseph raised his MA5C Assault Rifle and aimed at an Elite's head. He opened fire, but the Elite's shields drained slowly, so it had time to react. It responded with shots from its plasma rifle, the bursts flew, and one grazed the side of Joseph's head. He did a roll to the side to dodge the barrage of fire. When Joseph straightened himself, he aimed at the Elite's head and blew it off with a short, controlled burst. The remaining four circled around Joseph. A couple of them clicked their lower mandibles, as if indecision. Another looked up towards the bunkers, eyeing them warily, obviously spooked by the prospect of machine gun fire. But the marines wouldn't fire, at least until Joseph was under some sort of cover. Finally, one Elite decided to take control.
"Say goodbye, human," said the head Elite, over-charging his plasma pistol and pointing it at Joseph's head with a shaking claw. His voice sounded metallic and grating since it was translated on the fly by his helmet computer and neural implant. He looked at his squad mates for support. They nodded, giving him the go ahead, and his hand stiffened with resolve.
Odd, my life's not flashing before my eyes, maybe I'm really dying this time.
"Not so fast, you split-chinned freak!" yelled Kelsey, as he flew over the dune in a M274 ULATV Mongoose. He ran over two Elites and shot their leader twice in the head with his M6C Pistol. Immediately, the remaining Elite clutched his neck were a bullet had punctured it. B Squad's snipers yelled a catcall at the swaying body. Kelsey hit the corpse in the torso and it fell over, dead. Covenant blood spurted everywhere, staining the sand and the Mongoose.
"Yuchh," said Joseph, scraping the sticky blue stuff from his uniform.
"No time for that", said Kelsey, ironically since he had begun to scrape it from the Mongoose, "we have one minute to get a mile away from here. Everyone else is already leaving. Hop on!"
Joseph hopped on the Mongoose, sitting uncomfortably on the back of the vehicle. Though it could fit two people, there was really only room for one man to sit comfortably.
"Thanks!" yelled Joseph over the roar of the Mongoose's engine. The power plant made an uncanny amount of noise for something only 1000cc.
Kelsey picked up the radio, fumbling with the receiver since the Mongoose bumped up and down.
I wish FLEETCOM had given our Division the budget for that TEAMCOM stuff.
"This is Sergeant Daniel Kelsey, UNSC I.D. Number 024-184-013. Won't the Covenant be sending more troops?" asked Daniel.
"Two Phantoms and more Seraph fighters, to be exact. We have five Longswords inbound to intercept them," said Petrosky.
They were now outside the target zone, and they turned around to look at the impact of the Archer pods. The area leapt into the bright light of explosions. The Marines sheltered their eyes from the light. When they opened, their recent base was a wasteland of acrid smelling fumes and ashes. Jets of gas randomly shot up from the cracks in the ground, and the barracks burned in the distance, now a smoldering pile of ashes in the fiery landscape.
The Admiral buzzed in, "They can see this from space boys. Now let's get out of here before more Covenant show up. Hop in the Pelicans, we're meeting at the research center in Puerto Rico. I will brief you there. All of you did an excellent job today. Oh, I might be able to get you some of that TEAMCOM equipment, now that we've foiled a Covenant landing on Earth."

"We are not pleased, not at all," said the Prophet of Truth, "We gave you innu
merable resources, and your operation still failed."
"Yes, how can you ask for more troops when all of the troops you already asked for died on your watch! Have you no honor?" yelled the other, the Prophet of Forgiveness, not sounding too forgiving.
"But this time I will not fail," retorted the Brute, "All I need is…"
"Silence! Can you not see that you well get no more troops? Take your tribe and leave," ordered the first Prophet. He wobbled on his chair slightly as he said, but he quickly righted himself.
"Argor, I am truly sorry, but you must leave," said the next Prophet, "Now!"
Argor turned and walked out of the bridge, punching a Grunt on his way past, its body falling limp on the deck. One of the Hunters assigned to protect the Prophet growled, wondering if he should attack his Excellency's offender. The Prophet silenced him with a wave of his hand.
"I have no quarrel with him. Soon the Brutes will replace the Elites, we shall be thankful. Their prowess in battle is unmatched. Neither do they follow the Ways of Honor that the Elites do. They will not question our orders. No matter the cost to them or anyone else," the Prophet ended.

In the Pelican, Joseph heard the pilots talking about the news from the fronts all around the galaxy. Apparently, Blue Team, the elite group of Spartans, had infiltrated the COE, or Centennial Orbital Elevator and taken out two Covenant ships in the process. Sadly, the MAC station, Wayward Rest, had been destroyed in the process. Also, Captain Miranda Keyes and Master Chief had discovered a new Halo ring world. They went so far as to request a NOVA bomb. For the amount of money it took to use one of those things, you could give all of A Squad MJOLNIR armor, not to mention the bombs were only in prototype stage.
MJOLNIR armor would be really, really cool. Just fifteen million bucks, and we are rolling.
One of the Pelican captains yelled for order, "We're receiving a transmission from Lord Hood on Cairo Station."
The display flickered to life, it's bluish glow casting an eerie light around the interior of the troopship. Static distorted the sound at first, but they soon got a better signal as the troopship flew on.
"This is Admiral Hood sending a fleet wide request. Blue Team has been sent on an urgent mission to the planet Onyx, any reinforcements we can afford to send would be greatly appreciated. Doctor Halsey says there is a possibility of recovering Forerunner technologies and converting them to our own means. For those of you aren't up to date on the Forerunners and recent Halo campaigns, see UNSC dispatch 04628. That is all," the hologram pulsed once and died.
The only UNSC forces close to there are at Tripoli station. I doubt they still man that place though, not with the Covenant discovering the inner colonies.
One of the Pelican pilots let out a surprised gasp and reported that all CENTCOM channels had gone offline. That could only mean one of three things: the Covenant had learned how to block their channels, CENTCOM went into blackout to avoid detection by Covenant forces, or they had been destroyed. Either way, the prospects looked bleak.

Sorry if this was a little challenging to read. The lack of a space bar s-t-i-n-k-s. Remember, please review.

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