 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Halo: War of Surgica by Chris L
|
Halo: War of Surgica Part One: War is Hell
Date: 18 October 2004, 1:07 AM
0231 Hours, October 14, 2553(Military Calendar)/
Longsword Intercepter 4/A, 143 kilos west-north-west
from hidden UNSC colony: Epsilon A43
"Bring her up!" said the Longsword pilot Sam Reynold, to his co-pilot named Bobby Fees. "Begining start-up procedure," Bobby said in his usual curt tone. Like someone who had seen too many battles, and had too many horrid memories. He tapped a few keyes on the control panel in between the two black, contoured seats, and the Longsword shuddered as the rear thrusters flared. "Okay, engine is online and working fine." said Sam, gripping his joy-stick. "Bringing main data screen online." Bobby said softly, turning on the front viewscreen. Immediatly, tons of numbers and codes began scrolling down it, checking for errors in the start-up innitiative.
00323552343_engine-portside-function-100%
67234352341_engine-starboard-function-100%
23457899345_belly-and-nose-thrusters-function-100%
45123433434_main-data-AI-"Susie"-online
Sam watched out the port window as the ship mechanics scuttled out of the hanger like small ants. "Checking for any last minute errors" said the onboard AI named Susie. There was a short pause as she calculated 4000 gigabytes of information, then she appeared on the holo-panal to Sam's left. "No errors were found sir, ready when you are!" She dissapeared, and the viewscreen went blank for a moment. A second later, it flickered on, showing Sam and Bobby the view straight ahead of them. "Ready?" said Bobby, placing his finger on the "dissengage from hanger crane" switch. Sam took one more look around the hanger. The other Longswords were waiting for the good-to-go signal from intercepter 4/A. "Let's go kick some covenant- he was cut off as an enourmous explosion blew open the hanger's rear blast doors open. Crates of oil and fuel were sucked out into space. The hanger-techs struggled to close the emergency doors, as debri was sucked into the vaccum."Covenant forces have engaged!" "Go, go, go!" yelled Bobby, flicking on the launch signal to the other thirty ships in the Lucinda's hanger. "We're out in five, four, three," he counted off, getting ready to blast the belly jets. "Go!" the twenty year old co-pilot yelled. He pressed the dissengage button, and the mechanical clips let go of the four-ton ship. The intercepter fell toward the deck as it was freed, then came up to a wobbly hover,held up by the belly jets. Sam brought the Longsword around so it was facing the gaping hole, then jammed the throttle forward. The other fighters did the same, and thirty black, wedge shaped intercepters were launched out toward the fleet of Covenant cruisers.
"Battle Status." grunted Admiral Weiss. He stood at the viewport of the UNSC Frigate, Lucinda. "Well sir," said the voice of the AI Wellsley. "The Covenant have finally found our last hope for a life without war and agony." "Their Seraphs have been launched, and will engage our fighters in 3...make that 2, minutes." "How many are there?" Weiss asked, taking out a small black stylus and tapping his lower lip. "Approximatly 12 cruisers, 4 flagships, and..." he appeared on the holopanal, and studied the data screens around the room. "150 Seraph fighters." "That's 120 more than we have." Weiss said, turning around so that he was looking right at Wellsley. "Set a course for Epsilon 7." He said, putting away the stylus. "And leave all our intercepters out there?!" Wellsley cried, his eyes turning blaze orange, more data than ever scrolling across his body, which had taken the form of a war general. "That would be sixty lives wasted, and thirty AI's, not to mention the cost!" He shouted, gesturing out at the small crowd of black fighters, getting closer to the gigantic swarm of scarab-like covenant fighters. "The lives wouldn't be wasted!" shouted Weiss, whipping out the stylus again, and prodding Wellsley's form with it. Ripples of electricity pulsed like ripples from the rubber tip as it made contact with Wellsley's pure energy form. "Just do it." Harold Weiss said, turning back around and watching the battle that had just begun out in the depths of space. Lucinda's cargo was more valuble than an entire armada of Spartans. Which was sort of ironic, since the cargo actually was a whole lot of Spartans. "Plotting Course for Epsilon 7." Wellsley said in a voice like a moping child. "ETA twelve hours." He dissapeared down into the data-chip, which Weiss pulled out and inserted into his pocket. "War is Hell" Weiss said, watching the Longswords explode, painting the darkness with a taboo of yellows and reds. The horrible scene hung there for a moment, then vanished as the Lucinda was sucked into slip-space.
Halo: War of Surgica Part Two: There's no one left
Date: 19 October 2004, 1:24 AM
0437 Hours, October 14, 2553(Military Calendar)/
Longsword Intercepter 4/A, 143.23 kilos north-west
of hidden UNSC colony: Epsilon A43
"Covenant Seraphs, twelve o'clock!" shouted a Longsword pilot over Sam's intercom. "Prepare to engage!" Bobby shouted, furiously tapping the weapons system controls. "Arm your Shiva mini-nukes!" he said, taking out a gleaming titanium key and inserting it into a slot on the control panel in front of him. A small red light flicked on, followed by Susie's voice; "Mini-Nukes are armed and ready to go!" she then brought up a lock-on reticule on the forward viewscreen, and on the small tracking systems panel on Sam's left. "Longswords 4/B, 4/C, and 4/D, follow me!" shouted Sam, spit glistening on the smooth intercom.
The Elite named Fulsa 'Ranalea pushed the holographic throttle control to maximum, and gripped the double-joystick control, its cobalt coloration gleaming in the blinding sun that floated not even 40 units to his left. "All Seraphs," he spoke, peering down at the small communications screen. "Seraphs to full speed, we are engaging the Interlopers!" He watched as 149 violet lights appeared. "That's one too few!"he thought, peering around the 360 degree holographic projection of the space around his purple-black starship. A small flash of light in the corner of his beetle-black right eye caught the veteran's attention. Fulsa turned his head, and saw one of the Seraphs get torn apart by a large white explosion.
The human ship responsible soared above the swarm of covenant fighters, lining up to score another kill. Fulsa quickly snapped the joysticks to the left, a large projectile streaked through the space where Fulsa's fighter had been a moment earlier. He turned on his com-system and yelled, "The Humans have engaged, all Seraphs scatter, take them down!" Fulsa put a great deal of emphasis on these last three words, and clicked on his weapons control. He searched for a potential target, then, spotting one, his on-ship computer brought up a tracking reticule, and began trying to get a lock-on. A moment later, a small "ding" sounded, and the reticule glowed from green to red. Fulsa tightened his grip on the joysticks with force that could crush a human's skull, and a streak of blue plasma sped off toward the Longsword, and impacted on its gun-metal hull. The explosion caught two others as well, melting them into great heaps of molten slag.
"We're losing sir!" yelled Bobby, struggling to keep the computer screens online as bolts of plasma and shards of destroyed Longswords impacted upon the hull. The data-screen in front of Sam flickered, then went out.
"Hold on!" screamed Bobby, over the roar of a gigantic explosion. "I'll try to bring the weapons control back online!" He said, as another great explosion sent a dozen fragged intercepters toward Sam's ship. "Uh, Bobby," he said, looking out the left window, toward the huge armada of enemy crusiers. "Look!" he yelled, grabbing Bobby's head and yanking it to the left. "Oh crap," he said, as all of the cruisers pulsed a sickening blue, then, hundreds of big, white plasma torpedos streaked toward the remaining 6 Longswords. "The Seraphs are gone!" shouted a young woman pilot over the intercom. "and for good reason." Sam said, still staring at the impending doom. "Go, go, go!"
shouted Bobby, urging Sam on. "We can still get out of here if we go now!" he said, trying as hard as he could to reach the joystick. "Come on!" he yelled, tears coming in a solid stream down his face. "What about our families?!" he shrieked, finally grasping the joystick, which was slicked in hot, dank sweat. He jerked the throttle forward, and sent them reeling off, away from the catalistic explosion that rang out behind them.
Sam seemed to spring out of a trance, and pulled Bobby's hand away. "They left us." He said blankly, watching the last Covenant fighters dissapear into the massive cruisers' hangers. "Yeah, so they wouldn't get caught in the-"No, Captain Weiss, and Wellsley, they left us here!" Sam yelled, slamming his fist against the control panel. "We've got no where to go!" "We're sitting ducks!" He yelled, kicking the holographic projector so hard that it flickered, then died away. "Just shut down all the power." Bobby said wisely, shutting down the data computers and the few remaining weapons systems. Sam flicked off a switch, and the cockpit went black except for the last remaining computer system. "There's no one left." Sam said, and shut down the last system, leaving the cockpit in blackness.
|
