Copper Sky
Posted By: Red Loser<dnannery@purdue.edu>
Date: 18 April 2003, 4:26 AM
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Tearing through the folds of space,
The fleet in malice flew
With searing hatred, giving chase
To the Pillar of Autumn’s crew.
Escaping as a hunted dove
While scars of eagles bled,
The last remaining bastion of
The Reach armada fled.
But hurtling into normal space,
The ship began to crack,
Her cannon not enough to face
The Covenant attack.
“Let’s give our friends a welcoming.”
“I’ve already begun.”
The Master Chief awakening
Brought hope where once was none.
The chill of cryogenic sleep
Had faded into night
The Chief arose from death and deep
His frail Marines astray like sheep
’Til they beheld his might.
“He’s here!” “Here comes the cavalry”—
Their cries once bitter pleas;
They led him to the bridge with glee
To meet with Captain Keyes.
“I’m glad to see you, Master Chief,
But things are as we guessed:
The battle has been sharp though brief;
Cortana tried her best.”
“A dozen battleships to one,
And we’re alive, no less!
Despite those odds, we’re not undone.”
Cortana beamed success.
Her poise gave way to sour dismay
In antimatter brew:
A boarding party made its prey
The cannon and its crew.
Protecting Earth his highest goal,
The Captain took command
And, following the path of Cole,
Prepared to make his stand.
“Now, get Cortana off this ship,”
The Captain charged the Chief;
So with a pistol in his grip,
He tore off like a thief.
A Grunty troop dashed down the hall
While yelping jubilee,
Like ripened pears the Grunts did fall,
Outnumbered one to three.
A plasma pistol from the troupe
Was put to better use:
Marines next door let out a whoop
As Covies turned to juice.
So rushing through the Autumn’s womb
Along a shadowed path,
The Spartan swept from room to room;
He cast before him certain doom
And Providential wrath.
A lifeboat was his one request,
His only thought and prayer,
The Master Chief felt heaven-blessed
To even find one there.
He grabbed a faltering Marine
And tossed him through the door;
The pilot freed her pint machine
From Autumn’s grisly war.
Behind lay ghosts and dying men,
A massive ring ahead;
So on into the lion’s den
The human forces fled.
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