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The Story of a marine; prolouge-ch. 1
Posted By: Ugly Wimp<uglywimp@gmail.com>
Date: 5 May 2007, 11:34 am


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One thing that happens from playing just Halo and Halo 2, and not reading the books, one forgets how tough the Covenant are. To you or me, three Jackals are a piece of cake, but to a squad of marines alone, it is a major challenge. One has to remember that in the games. I wrote this to answer my question, "What would it be like to figt along side the Master Chief?"

Prologue
1326 Hours, April 11, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Zeta Corliss System, Lars Grannus II Theater of Operations
Kruger Planetary Wildlife Refuge

Private First Class Andrew Waldron caught his breath behind the tree. He didn't know how long before the whole thing burned down. It was taking a lot of plasma fire. He assessed the situation in a second. To his right, Roberts, another man from Andrew's squad, was blasting away at an elite on a warthog chain gun. To his left, Sergeant McKinney and Ray Beavers crouched behind a wrecked `Hog, occasionally peaking out and firing. He fired another two bursts with his assault rifle and sent a grunt sprawling. They were doing better. Roberts had just finished a Jackal that he was sure would finish them. He hated their shields; it made them basically impossible to kill. It looked to Waldron like the battle would not last much longer.

It was then he saw a grunt arm a plasma grenade. Andrew quickly brought up his assault rifle, aimed, and fired. The grunt fell but it was too late. The glowing blue ball adhered to the warthog. Roberts saw it and jumped, but the explosion of the fuel tank threw him into a rock, where he lay, motionless.

"Waldron, over here now!" Sergeant McKinney shouted. The last grunt had been killed, so he ran over without any fear of being shot. "Alright," McKinney continued, "both our `Hogs are destroyed and who knows how long before their reinforcements arrive. Let's get out of here."

"How?" Waldron couldn't help but ask. "I mean, without transport, we'll be sitting ducks." Just then there was a loud rumbling and a Scorpion Tank drove over a hill. A single Marine sat on one of the tracks.

"Hey, pile on! Command says we need to get out of here." They needed no further encouragement, and piled on. "Command has ordered everyone be evacuated off the planet," the soldier continued.

"Excuse me," Waldron said, "but I was monitoring the com channels and it seems like we're winning."

"In case you couldn't tell, he's a new kid who just came in a week or two ago," Beavers chuckled and said to the Marine who had ordered them on the tank.

The Marine smiled, "Yeah, I figured that. Look kid, most of the news you get is not exactly the way it happened. See, we can kick ass down here, but once the Covenant take out our fleet, which they do with great ease, they come over and glass the planet. They can kill our fleet quicker than you can spit with their plasma torpedoes and with their energy shields they can take a helluva lot of damage. If we don't get off here, we'll be fried."

It did make sense, the news always showed lots of ground fighting, where they Marines always won, and ever since the Battle of Dawson V, there had hardly been any reports on space battles. Why are we even fighting, there is no stopping the Covenant—he immediately shook that thought from his head. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, they would find the one weakness of the Covenant; or at least some way of stopping them.

Chapter 1
1200 Hours, October 13, 2551 (Military/System Calendar)/
Sol System, 18 Bridge Road, Highland Township, Kennebec Territory,
Planet Earth
Six months earlier

Andrew Waldron stood on front porch and out at the landscape. He was going to turn seventeen in a half-hour, and kept glancing at his laptop, waiting for his draft notice. It was not impossible that he would be able to stay out of the war, but highly unlikely. Every friend he had that had turned eighteen had gotten a draft notice, and so he would get one too. Or so he kept telling himself. Still though, he could always hope, and so he did.

There was a "ding," which meant a message had come. He dashed to the laptop, but saw it was only from one of his friends who was a gunner's mate on the destroyer Mackinaw. Still, he read it:

United Nations Space Command Serviceman to Public Message
Encryption Code: N/A
From: UNSC/14thFleet/UNSCMackinaw Gunnar's Mate second class Ian McGraff
To: Andrew Waldron (civilian); ID: 0578-249936-AS5
Subject: Victory!
Classification: Serviceman to Public Message

Victory!
Andrew,
Today we won a major victory. It was my first combat experience and it was pretty cool. We were all set to jump into slipspace near Dawson V when three Covenant frigates and two destroyers jumped in. Our captain always keeps our MAC gun and Archer Missile pods hot we opened fire as soon as we saw them. Several other ships did the same and both destroyers and one frigate were destroyed before they could even bring their energy shields online. Only one was able to fire and did minor damage to one of our cruisers. It was simply amazing. I am sure it will be all over the news.
Happy Birthday! Let me know where you go when you get your draft notice.
Ian
/end file/

It was all over the news. There was footage of Covenant detonating in a blue cloud, and of one ship dodging a plasma torpedo by firing its emergency thrusters. He thought he might join the navy. But still, if he was a marine, he might meet a Spartan. He would never forget that day when, sitting in their classroom, all eyes had been turned to screens, when the government announced their "secret weapon," which had been in operation for many years, when the marines, who were about to be overrun by Covenant forces, were saved by the tall men in green armor. He would never forget that day.

He would also never forget the events of earlier that day. News came that Borealis Damascus had been glassed. Not only was it one of the most heavily populated planets, it was heavily defended, and this meant many students came that day without a parent. But the unveiling of the Spartan II project lifted many spirits.

He looked at the clock. He was eighteen. He heard a "ding" and saw the sender was the UNSC. He clicked on the message and read what he had expected to read:

United Nations Space Command PERSCOM Draft Notification
Encryption Code: N/A
From: United Nations Space Command Office of Personnel
To: Andrew Waldron; ID: 0578-249936-AS5
Subject: Draft Notification
Classification: Draft Notification

Draft Notification
Dear Mr. Andrew Waldron,

You have been selected to be drafted into the UNSC. You may join any branch of the United Nation's Military. Please contact a recruitment office sometime within the next seven days. Failure to do so will result in a violation of code: 58-45852-55, and you shall be punished accordingly.

/end file/


He decided that the Marines would be the best option, since he was unsure what else to be, he signed up for basic soldier. On the day he was to leave for training, there were tears shed throughout the family, luckily, his father had been able to secure a desk job and successfully survived till the mandatory retirement age, but all Andrew could think about was what lye ahead.





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