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      The group of HBOers and Marines sat in the passenger cabin of the Pelican. Most of the game generated Marines in the space looked to be scared out of their wits. The HBOers were all relatively calm as they checked their hacked weapons. I, on the other hand, was relatively ticked off. We had been in the air for about twenty or so minutes. It was cramped in the cabin, and dark. Smelly, too. It was obvious to me that somebody had soiled their trousers in fear of the upcoming op, but no one said anything.
      I grunted as I unbuckled myself from my seat. I walked over to the door that led into the cockpit. There was a small slot that sat below a computer screen with a foldout keyboard. My hand dug into my pocket as I looked for a data crystal. I hoped that Sergeant Stacker, the character I had inhabited, had similar tastes in music to me. I felt something vaguely square shaped in there, and I brought it out.
      I was lucky; it was a data crystal. I slotted the crystal in and looked at the screen. Immediately, a box labeled Windows Media Player popped up. I stood in front of screen for several seconds, baffled. Why the heck would Microsoft go to the trouble to put this into Halo? I thought to myself, Will they stop nothing short of world domination?. I shook my head and clicked the play button for the file named B&M.
      I didn't really care whether it was music or video. The flight had gone on too long, and I didn't have a window seat. That always made me grouchy. Because the truth is that I've always loved airplanes and that sort of thing. That was mainly the reason that I wrote my Longsword series. I love to fly. (I couldn't wait to get my hands on a Banshee) That and the fact that they didn't have a snack cart had irked me. But whatever.
      The file it played first was a video. The screen turned completely black. Then it became static, which phased out and I came face to face with a pair of monsters worse than the Covenant. Worse than 343 Guilty Spark, really.
      It was a video of Britney Spears and Madonna kissing. "What the—!?" I yelled as I clicked the stop button. Everyone in the cabin snapped their head around to look at me with an expression of surprise on their faces. "What was that all about?" a Marine asked.
      "A fate worse than death," I answered. I went back to the directory and opened the next file labeled JJ&JT. It was no better. My stomach turned over as Justin Timberlake ripped off a good portion of Janet Jackson's clothing. I closed the file quickly. As I did, the same Marine said, "Hey, go back; I was watching that!"
      "Shut up," I muttered as a Windows Messenger popped up. I wasn't as surprised this time. I began to wonder if I could get satellite TV out of a copy of Flight Simulator or if Microsoft might have gone so far as to put a copy of Halo in Halo, so to speak.

      Boll: Yo, Sterfrye, you there?
      I quickly typed back: Yeah I'm here. What's up?
      Boll: I thought I'd give you a quick briefing. Here's the deal: That @*&$ little orb, 343 GS, has figured out someway to endlessly respawn Covies. The guys already out there have run out of hacked weapon ammo. You guys are going to have to reinforce the first team and hold out until Frogblast, C0ld Vengeance and I can stop Spark.
      Sterfrye36: Got it. Can you send CoLd and I an overhead map?
      Boll: Why should I bother? Every HBOer has played this level ten or fifteen times.
      My fingers froze over their position above the keyboard and I bit my lower lip.
      Boll: Dude, what's taking you so long to reply? Don't tell me you haven't played this a dozen times before.
      Sterfrye36: No, no, I've played this before.
      Boll: How many times?
      Sterfrye36: Uh...once?
      Boll: You're a squad leader who's going in to save the other squads' butts and you've only played this once?!
      Sterfrye36: Look, I don't even own an XBOX, okay!?
      Boll:No, not okay! I don't believe this! You seriously don't own and XBOX?
      Sterfrye36: Look, I played it over at a friend's, okay? Besides, I'm stuck here and you can't beam me up. Just send me the map, okay?
      Boll: Fine, but you're in big trouble once you get back.
      Sterfrye36: Whatever.
      I disconnected as the pilot yelled over the P.A. system, "Five minutes till dirt!" A small icon labeled "map" came into existence in my HUD. I nodded as I browsed the rest of the files. I grinned with satisfaction as I found a song worth listening to. "Brandy" by Looking Glass. It was an oldies song. From about the sixties I believe, and it was about a girl who lived in a port town...Or something. I had heard it before.
      "Ster, what kind of crap is that?" Shade asked.
      "It's classic crap," I shot back.
      "Yeah, well so is—" he began, but I beat him to the punch line.
      "A mercy killing. Yeah, I read that one in 'The Flood'. Nice try, though."
      "Seriously, pop in Blink 182 or something."
      "Who?"
      "Good gravy," Shade gasped. "You seriously don't know who Blink 182 is?"
      "Nope."
      "K.I.S.S.?"
      "Uh-uh"
      "Insane Clown Posse?"
      "You're batting zero, Shade."
      "At least tell me you know who Linkin' Park is."
      "I think I do..." I trailed off as I scrunched up my face. "Yeah I do know who they are. I only really do because there's always that one guy who screams in the background," I built up a big breath of air. "CRAAAAWLING IN MY SKIIIIIIN! THESE WOUNDS, THEY WIIILL NOT HEAAAAAAAALL!!"
      Simpsons clamped a Flood claw over his ears. "Dude, be quiet! You're driving me crazy!" When I didn't stop, he yelled, "Shut—"
      "UP WHEN I'M TALKING TO YOU!!!" I screeched as "Brandy" got to the chorus (THEY SAY, THEY SAY, BRANDY, YOU'RE A FINE GIRL! WHAT A GOOOOOOOD WIIIIIFE YOU WOULD BE!).
      Agent Shade's hand went to his pistol holster, and I would've stopped on my own, but I was forced to as the chapter name appeared in the middle of the cabin, spun around and knocked me down. "Truth and Reconciliation," I muttered from my prone position as the others laughed. How original was the naming ability of the Bungie team? I didn't have long to ponder because the Pelican was suddenly knocked on its ear. I flew to the back of the cabin and slammed into the ramp as the dropship rolled and dove. My mouth spewed incomprehensible gibberish. As my face was smashed against the ramp, I heard a tone, and (Though it was slightly belated) the "Fasten Seatbelt" sign appeared in my HUD.
      "What the heck is this!?"
      "Beats me!" Steele grunted because of the g-forces. "This is way to rough for regular old turbulence!" The bird snap-rolled and rocketed for the moon in an attempt to regain control and lost altitude. My cheeks suddenly had the substance of jello, and made a phbwickickickickick! sound as the gees overwhelmed me. The worst was yet to come, however, as the pilot over controlled the dropship at the top; the Pelican hung in one location in space for about three seconds before going into a hammerhead stall and a sustained tail slide.
      For those of you that don't know what these two maneuvers are, I'll explain it. A Hammerhead stall is where an aircraft is pointing straight up and just hangs in the air without going up or down. A sustained tail slide is where an aircraft stalls during a climb...and then proceeds to fly (backwards) towards the ground.
      I was peeled off of the unopened ramp, thrown across the troop compartment and slammed into the cockpit door like it was a gong. From my horizontal spread eagle position, I could see that the others were laughing at me. Simpsons was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his Flood face, and Steele looked like he was about to pass out.
      Through judicious use of the Pelican's ability to vector its thrust, the dropship pitched forward again, and I finally dropped to the cabin floor as the pilot finally regained control.
      "One minute until dirt! And, for those of you who lost bowel and/or bladder control during out little bit of maneuvering, there are adult-diapers in the overhead bins," the pilot yelled. I sighed, sat up, and performed one last weapons check. My auto-shotgun was in prime condition. I pulled the slide back and the ammo indicator on my helmet's HUD switched over to little groups of seven grenades. I slung the weapon of mass destruction over my back and unslung my MA5B-M90 crossbreed. It was a shotgun made to look like an AR, but had an AR sized clip and rate of fire...all with shotgun rounds. Whatever Covie that decided to take me on would get a nasty surprise.
      I slung my MA5B-M90 over my shoulder and prepped the auto-shotgun as a screech exploded behind me. I clamped my hands over my ears and glanced back over my shoulder. Simpsons was grinning like a drunk and bobbed his head along to the beat of the music he had put in. The screen read: "Blink182, Red Skies".
      "I'm dropping the ramp!" the pilot hollered. "Shoot some of them for me!" I turned and the ramped dropped to reveal absolute chaos. There were barely any patches of ground visible. Most of the turf seemed to be covered with dead Covenant. My jaw dropped down. It was unbelievable. CoLd moved in front of me and waved at H_K. H_K waved back, but I saw his brow crease in confusion when I stepped in front of CoLd.
      About 20 feet from the earth, the Pelican dropped a Hog that we had been carrying. Wait...when did we pick up a Hog? I shook my head. Boll must've teleported it directly onto the back of the bird. It had probably been the cause of that Pelican's imitation of "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride".
      He was going to pay for that.
      Naturally, the mind-blowing possibilities came to my mind. If a Hog could be teleported, what else could? Weapons, ammo, health packs...the possibilities were endless.
      I raised my shotgun, switched over to grenade-spread and let loose at a small group of Grunts and Jackals that were racing to intercept us. The spread of grenades landed smack dab in the middle of the group. The grenades detonated and killed all but one red Grunt, which flew up past us and was fried in the jet wash. "Weird way to kill a Grunt," Simpsons muttered as he jumped off the bird. Shade jogged past me, but I grabbed his pistol from out of its holster. I swung the unhacked pistol into line with the computer, which was blaring, "ALL THESE OBSCURE ANIMALS AREN'T EVEN IN THEIR PEN!" The pistol kicked against my hand as I pulled the trigger, and the screen exploded in a shower of sparks. I handed the pistol back to Shade. He rolled his eyes and leaped off of the Pelican; I followed him. The Pelican lifted off and rocked its wings in a gesture of good luck.
      As soon as I hit the ground, I headed for the Warthog, but Shade stopped me. "No way," he yelled over the roar of combat.
      "Why not?" I yelled back.
      "Because you're never driving again, remember?!"
      "Look, a Bumblebee and a Warthog are completely different! One's a car, one's a highly sophisticated aircraft!" I screeched. A group of Grunts noticed both Shade and I standing around and blathering like idiots in the middle of a combat zone. They all possessed overcharged plasma pistols and they began to run towards us. A few even ignited plasma grenades.
      "And the Ghost!" Shade yelled. "Don't forget the Ghost! You nearly got us blown to bits by Steele and his napalm!" The Grunts were getting close.
      "Uh, Shade--" I tried to warn him, but he cut me off.
      "And before that, the Marines in the Ghosts nearly killed us! I mean, Marines are bad drivers, but it was like you were trying to get into their crosshairs!"
      I finally yelled, "Grunts!" Without looking around, Shade pointed the pistol over his shoulder and nailed all of them with headshots. They flew in a half-dozen different directions and then exploded as the grenades went off. Incredibly, they all took out four Elites with their stupidity.
      Shade looked like he was going to continue yelling at me, but his eyes got wide and he dove to my right. I turned around.
      Simpsons, in his Flood body with a giant claw, was barreling towards us in the Hog. At first I wasn't worried. He looked like he was keeping it under good control. I did, however, get worried when he suddenly threw it into third gear with his claw and swung a donut.
      Then I noticed the steering wheel, bouncing in the air, about twenty feet behind the car.
      The lummox had lopped it off with his claw and he now had no control!

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