User:Chiafriend12/H:PtP

Halo: Planet to Planet The story of the 116th Marine Division and their fighting. This book is based off a rated Mature video game series, Halo. Halo is owned by Bungie, not the author. The author does not, and has never, worked for Bungie or Microsoft. This is not an official Halo novel. Part I was inspired by Ptowery of Halo Fanon’s role-play, “Halo: War”.

The men of the 116th LCPL J. Baumms PVT Boyle ENS Pavel ‘Pav’ Browning 2LT Earle PVT Kevin Endrolsphini LT Gate SGT Stephen Geauer PVT Hal Goering 1LT Heughard Jackson CPL Frederick Jenson SGT Ben Jober PVT Lorence 2LT James Luzzon Crewman “SPARTAN-065” Troy Malina PO/3 Isaac Martinez PVT John Matisse PVT George McManus LTJG Nieland LCDR Jeremie O’Mitchell LT Leon Polski PVT Gary Saunders S/SGT Brendon ‘Shamp’ Shampson PVT Viktor Spranovich CPL Vibes

Part I: Woskia

Chapter 1

O’Mitchell looked at Leon sternly in the face. “When I do not give authorization, you do not schedule a ‘routine’ space flight of Bravo 60 and Echo 212!” he yelled.

“Yes sir.” Leon responded at attention.

“As one of 4 lieutenants on the ship, the longest one in the Navy actually, I would not expect you to do as much. When I say ‘keep her steady as we approach Woskia’, I do not mean ‘you may do an unauthorized task’!” O'Mitchell sternly said in an attemptive disciplinary voice. He walked out of his small office into the bridge, signaled to a junior lieutenant. They both reentered to room. “Lieutenant Polski,” he addressed, “This is Lieutenant, Junior Grade Nieland, an MP. He is also an eye-witness to your unauthorized action of eleven hours ago. You will receive a court martial for your action in approximately 84 hours.”

Nieland cuffed the Lieutenant and took him out of the bridge, through many corridors into one of multiple cells, where an enlisted marine Leon knew was sitting in, again. Nieland uncuffed him, and locked him in one of the cells.

“What did you do this time, Jensen?”

“Oh nothing,” Corporal Jensen responded. “Just didn't my sidearm clean when I was showing the doozy off. It was ‘an unacceptable example of an unusable weapon’.”

BOOM!

“Good lord almighty!” Nieland exclaimed. He next darted out of the room toward the bridge.

Leon looked to his right toward Jensen. “But really, is that why you're in again”

“Naw, I was just kidding ya’.” The corporal chuckled. “I’m in for killing all the other guys in by battalion once when I was drunk.”

Lieutenant Polski burst out laughing. “Riiigghhht...”

A minute or two later, Junior Lieutenant Nieland came back into the brig with his MA5B Assault Rifle. “Some stray Covenant fire exploded some 50 meters from the L’amour. Lieutenant Commander O'Mitchell ordered all personnel at attention, and at stations. That means you two are out of the brig.” He unlocked the two cell doors, and opened them. “Frederick Jensen, Sergeant Geauer needs you with your squad pronto. Leon Polski, you need to get to cryo-1 immediately to relay these orders.” he handed Leon a piece of paper. Leon and Frederick both left the room and headed down the hallway to the left.

Polski and Jensen parted ways some 50 yards down the hallway. Polski took a right to cryo-2, while Jensen took a left towards the hangar where his squad, as well as his whole company, was. Polski continued down the hallway to cryo-2 where two enlisted crewmen were. “Is there an,” Leon read the paper he was given. “‘Ensign Pavel Browning’ here?”

“No, sir.” one of the enlisted men answered, “He left a bit ago and headed to cryo-1. He should still be there.”

Lieutenant Polski left cryo room by climbing some stairs, going to the control room, through a short hallway, into cryo-1 and down those stairs. “Any of you an Ensign Browning?”

One of the three personnel responded, “Yeah, that's me.”

“Well, you’re needed in hangar-1 on the double to report to Pelican Dropship Echo 212.” Leon relayed, as he was ordered. Pavel jogged over to the stairs, preceded up them and towards hangar-1.

Pavel and Leon went up the stairs of cryo-1, through the control room, back through that short hallway, in and out of the control room of cryo-2, and back to the area where Jensen and Polski parted ways. Leon heard someone lifting some sort of metal sheet, and it scraping against another. He went faster, down the hallway the corporal went down, took a right at a corner, and say Frederick moving a metal floor panel so he could get something out of a compartment in the floor. “What are you doing Corporal?”

Jensen had a pretty good feeling that he was screwed, and would receive some sort of punishment. “Uh, sir, I was just getting something.”

“And what would you be getting?” Lieutenant Polski was exhilarated that he may be learning what he was doing that got him in the brig again.

“An M6D Pistol with 3 clips, and 2 extra MA5B magazines, sir.”

“Well get your extra ammo and head towards hangar-1. Your squad may be wondering what happened to you.” Leon has expected that he was hiding something worse, like stolen money, or illegal drugs. The three of them continued down the corridor another 50 yards or so until they got to hangar-1. “Browning, high-tail it over to Echo 212 on the double. Jensen, meet up with your squad.”

“Yes, sir.” the other two responded.

Leon headed over to Bravo 060, a special, larger Pelican Dropship, able to carry two thirds of a standard company, compared to the Echo 212, a normal Pelican that can only carry a platoon. He stepped into the longer-than-normal back of Bravo 060. “Petty Officer!” he called to the pilot, that he saw was an enlisted man. “Prepare to load up most of Company F, of Delta's third battalion. The remainder will be loaded into Echo 212.”

The pilot looked back over the right side of his chair. “Yes, sir. Will you be riding with 060?”

Leon was about to step out of Bravo 060, but stopped and answered, “No, I have some duties to do while aboard the L'amour. I may board on your second trip, though.” He stepped out of the dropship, and started to walk over to Echo 212 to tell then their orders of who to load up. Though before getting any further than ten meters, Lieutenant Gate came up.

“Polski, didn’t you get in trouble with O’Mitchell for doing an unauthorized action with Pelicans like, 12 hours ago?”

“Yes, but now I have authorization, Gate.” Polski explained to prevent Gate from attempting to tell O’Mitchell or more unauthorized actions. He then continued on to Echo 212's location.



“And so, I got the ammo, and no court martial, or anything!” Jensen gloated about his run-in with Lieutenant Polski a few minutes earlier to his squad, mainly a newer recruit, John Matisse.

“You serious?” Kevin inquired.

“Of course I am!” Jensen showed his M6D Pistol. “Now why would a corporal like me be issued a sidearm? Huh?” He asked to the squad.

Gary thought of a reason. “Because they want you to shoot your own arm off?”

“Right, right.” the corporal chuckled. Frederick noticed that Leon was coming towards him and his squad. When he walked by, the squad stood at attention, though the lieutenant did not notice. He just kept heading along towards Echo 212. “See? Told you. No court martial.” He told to John.

Leon stepped into the back of Echo 212, and walked towards the front to talk to Pavel. “Pavel, get ready to load up some marines. Company F's second platoon of Delta's third battalion will be loading up in a few minutes. You will follow Bravo 060 out of the hangar and towards Woskia's surface. The marines will meet up with some other UNSC forces at a ground base. After that, head back up here to get C Company's second platoon. Got all that, Ensign?”

“Aye, sir.” Pavel saluted, then started flipping some switches.

The Lieutenant walked over to Sergeant Geauer, the leader of Corporal Jensen's squad. “Okay Sergeant Geauer, get your squad to board Echo 212. Then tell Staff Sergeant Shampson and Sergeant Jober to load their squads up into Echo 212. Our two Pelicans will leave in...” he checked his paper, then his watch. “Three minutes. Get a move on Sergeant.” He started to go towards the direction of the bridge after telling Geauer his orders.

Geauer pulled back the cocking mechanism in his MA5B Assault Rifle so it would be easier to load it with a clip later. “Squad, listen up!” the squad all looked at him upon his order. “Matisse, Endrolsphini, Saunders, get in Echo 212 here right now.” The three of them started jogging over to Echo 212. “Jensen, tell Jober’s squad to load up in the dropship while I tell ‘Shamps’’s squad to load up.”

“Okay, Stephen.” He acknowledged. “Sergeant Jober!” Jensen called out.

“Yeah Corporal?” Jober responded.

“The platoon's loading up into Echo 212. Polski’s orders.” Jensen relayed.

Sergeant Jober turned to his squad. “Guys, time to load up into Echo 212 on the double. Move!” He and his squad climbed up into the Pelican. Jensen did the same. Everyone in the platoon was sitting in the Pelican. There were 2 seats left. “Who's the platoon leader since First Lieutenant Michaels was discharged?” Jober questioned anyone who would listen.

“I heard it was some ‘Lieutenant Earle’, just out of training last week.” Hal, a marine from Shampson’s squad, told.

Some 10 seconds later, Pavel called out that departure was within 45 seconds. Another few seconds passed when a probably 18 year old officer started to board Echo 212

“This Second Platoon, F Company, Third Battalion, Delta Regiment?” the officer asked to his probable platoon that he was in command of.

Shampson was the first to respond. “Right on the dot, sir. Are you a ‘Lieutenant Earle’?”

The officer responded, “Correct. Just—“ but was interrupted mid-sentence.

“--got out of training last week, sir?” Matisse guessed.

Earle was somewhat astounded that he already knew. “Completely right, marine. What's your name?”

“Private John Matisse, sir.” Matisse told the new officer. “Sir, do you know anything about what we’re going to do down on Woskia?”

Lieutenant Earle did not know. “Probably just some drills to keep us at a marine's expectations, Private.”

Ten seconds went by before the pelicans started to lift-off. An announcement came up over the ship intercom. “Companies C and H, Third Battalion, Delta Regiment: report to hangar-1 for transportation to Woskia's surface scheduled in 30 minutes.”



Echo 212 and Bravo 060 soared through space towards Woskia, which was some 100,000 miles away. Ensign Browning turned on the intercom for the Pelican to say a greeting to his recipients. “Attention fliers! Thank you for flying Echo 212 airlines. We hope you have a safe flight, and kill lots of Covenant after landing.” He turned off the intercom.

Isaac Martinez, the co-pilot, who was just out of training two months earlier to replace a retiring Lieutenant, Junior Grade, was on his first non-drilled flight mission. “What the Heck are you doing ‘Pav’? We’re not an airline you crazy lunatic.” Isaac chuckled, and poked Pavel in the shoulder.

“Hey, hey, hey,” the Ensign started to warn, “remember, I’m an ensign, and you’re a petty officer third class. So don't be messing with me kid.” Pavel poked him back.

Back in the transport area of the dropship, the marines’ new officer started to talk. “So what’re all your names?”

“Sergeant Ben Jober.”

“Staff Sergeant Brendon Shampson.”

“Private Gary Saunders.”

“Private John Matisse.”

“Corporal Frederick Jensen.”

“Sergeant Stephen Geauer.”

“Private Kevin Endrolsphini.”

“Private Hal Goering.” greeted the platoon, plus the other members of Jober and Shampson’s squads. After greeting themselves, the marines became quiet.

The 18-man platoon sat in Echo 212 while waiting to land on Woskia. No one necessarily wanted to see action. The veterans in the platoon, like most veterans, despised combat. The non-veterans were told about combat by the experienced in the platoon as “scary as Hell and nerve wrecking”.

Private Saunders was thinking about his mother. She had told him it was a bad thing to join the Army during war since so many people died. He remembered how she wept when he told her he enlisted. How she was so scared for the life of Gary.

Lieutenant Earle was thinking about tactical strategies that could be used if the landing zone was hot with Covenant. He calculated worst-case scenarios, and always tried to think of a way that would have low, or preferably, no casualties.

Corporal Jensen was fiddling around with his smuggled M6D Pistol. He practiced aiming with it, quick reloading with pre-emptied clips, and different styles of pistol whips if he ran out of ammo in a clip right in front of a Jackal or Grunt. He knew he would be screwed if it was in front of a deadly Hunter. He had heard stories from Jober about how a Hunter could take down a whole platoon of newly recruited marines.

John Matisse was reading a book called “The Battle of the SPARTANs”, a book about a battalion of 500 SPARTAN-IIs fighting off Covenant as they invaded Earth's continent of Africa. John stopped for a moment to try to imagine the scene he was reading about. SPARTANs in groups of 100s charging the Covenant landing zone in a 600-year-old town of “Old Bomassar”, running through winding city streets, fighting off assorted aliens on their way to New Bomassar, the drop zone for the Covenant.

Staff Sergeant Brendon Shampson was reading “The Battle of the SPARTANs 2”, the sequel to the book John was reading. A week prior, Brendon lent him his copy of the first book. John was very interested in it. Shampson was reading about 300 of the surviving SPARTAN-IIs launching a large sea-to-land attack on the island of "Zenzoboar", the alien field operations base after being routed out of both Old and New Bomassar. Brendon turned the page to notice a page was missing. He was mad because of this.

P. O. Isaac Martinez watched some gages in the cockpit of the Pelican Dropship as it propelled itself through space. He then remembered that Bravo 153 and Bravo 280 weren’t on the UNSC L'amour, or on another ship to his knowledge. He turned to Pavel, “Hey ‘Pav’, where’s Bravos 153 and 280?”

Pavel took off the headphones he had on to his music player. “Whad’ja say?”

“I said,” Isaac started, “’Hey ‘Pav’, where is Bravos 153 and 280?’”

“I dunno’.” Pavel shrugged. “I think them and all the other Pelicans in the 116th are either on leave, or in a body shop for maintenance or something.” He then put his headphones back on and listened to his music. While listening to his music, he was thinking about what would happen after Delta Regiment's third battalion was transported to Woskia’s surface. Would he himself have to be on Woskia’s surface? Would he go back to the L’amour for a good night’s sleep?

Many minutes passed, and Earle continued to speculate about worst case scenarios and the best methods to deal with them. He finally thought of a worst case scenario and its best method of movement and firing. He was excited that he finally figured it out, but then got saddened when he thought of a vital flaw.

Shampson continued on reading his book, even though he was mad that it was missing a page. In the part he was reading, the SPARTANs took many casualties on the beach of Zenzoboar, but continued fighting their way inland. They then got pinned down by several alien snipers in a giant pointless-looking windmill-thing.

Pavel eventually turned off his music to send a radio message to Bravo 060. He flipped a switch to start sending the message. “Echo 212 to Bravo 060, do you copy, over.”

“Yeah, we copy Echo 212. Bravo 060 is reading. Over.” the pilot of the other Pelican responded.

“We’ll be approaching the LZ in another eight hours or so. Over.”

“I copy Browning. Is that all? Over.”

“Yes, that’s all. Just reminding you. Over.”

“Roger. Out.” the pilot of Bravo 060 turned off his radio.

“Out.” Pavel flipped the switch again. He looked out into space for a short bit. There wasn't much to see besides Woskia. The Ensign then looked towards Isaac to tell him something. “Hey Isaac, would’ja go into the passengers’ area to tell them what to do after landing?”

“I’ll get right to it.” Isaac stood up from his co-pilot’s chair, walked over to the door, opened it, then walked into the passenger hold.

Jober noticed that the pilot was not in his seat, and though something bad was happening. “Anything wrong, Martinez?”

“No, nothing’s wrong.” he assured. Isaac made a “shave and haircut” styled sequence of claps to get everyone's attention. Only one person made a “two bits” styled sequence of claps back. “We will be approaching Woskia in another eight hours or less.” Some people started moaning. “Once we land, all three fire teams will need to unload and form a mini-encampment with the rest of the company that is currently being transported in Bravo 060. Once we and Bravo 060 come back in 16 hours after landing, or sooner if possible, you will all have new orders from Lieutenant Commander O’Mitchell.” P. O. Martinez went back into the cockpit, closed the door, and sat down.



Polski was walking down the hallway towards the bridge to ask O’Mitchell if he had any other orders for him. He was almost to the bridge when something came over the intercom. “Would all Lieutenants and executive Lieutenant, Junior Grades please report to Lieutenant Commander O’Mitchell’s office on the double. All Lieutenants and executive Lieutenant, Junior Grades please report to Lieutenant Commander O’Mitchell’s office.”

Polski was thinking of the worst possible thing that could happen. He was thinking that he was going to have to go through with a court martial and O’Mitchell was going to ridicule him in front of the other officers. Even though he thought that, he continued to the bridge. He entered the bridge, walked over to his commander’s office door, opened it, and entered. He waited inside for no longer than a minute before the other seven officers entered the room. Of those seven, Nieland and Gate were included.

“I’m glad you're all here.” O’Mitchell thanked. “I got you all to come over here because I have good and neither good nor bad news. The good news is that Lieutenant Gate is being promoted to Lieutenant Commander!” The group congratulated him. “Some other good news is that Junior Lieutenant Nieland is being promoted to Lieutenant, and to head of all the MP on the ship.” Everyone congratulated him on his promotion, also. “The neither bad nor good news is that Gate is being transferred to another ship for him to command.” There was a short pause. No one knew to either congratulate him, or give him a “good bye”. “Also, more neither good nor bad news is that Bravos 153 and 280, two model D77H-ANG Pelicans, armed with dual machine guns on the front, have come in from their body work on a nearby ship. Also, Lieutenant Commander Gate, and Lieutenants Polski and Nieland, you all have some tasks to do.” said O’Mitchell as he handed the three each papers with some orders on them. “That is all.” Everyone saluted. “Dismissed.” The group of eight exited the room.



The two Pelican Dropships continued hurdling through space towards the target planet of Woskia. Ensign Browning was getting bored. He checked his watch to see how long it had been since they left the UNSC L’amour’s hangar. It had been a while. Pavel was too lazy to do any math. “Hey Isaac,” Pavel leaned over to his right to ask his co-pilot a question, “how long has it been since we left he UNSC L’amour’s hangar?”

“45 minutes, ‘Pav’.” P. O. Martinez responded. He temporarily got back to his co-pilot's duties. “Are you feeling sick or something?”

“No, no. I'm just too lazy to do any arithmetic to figure it out on my own.” Pavel told.

At that moment, probably no more than two seconds after he finished his sentence a message from Bravo 060 came in. “Echo 212! A possibly enemy ship has been seen some five miles ahead of us, and heading towards us! Over.”

Echo 212’s pilot quickly turned on his radio to respond. “What do you want us to do about it? You're the one with the flares on your Pelican! If it's ‘Covvie’, then shoot a flare or two at it. Over.” he reminded the other pilot of their flare launcher as he turned to his co-pilot. “Get your binoculars out and try to identify that ship.” Isaac got out his binoculars and looked through them.

“Ensign, it has accelerated. Can you identify it? Over.” the other pilot asked.

“My co-pilot is trying to do so at the moment. Over.” Pavel answered. He turned his head to Isaac, hoping for an answer.

The Petty Officer didn't even lower his binoculars to inform, "It's a DX Spirit!"

Browning turned his radio and somewhat loudly told, “It’s a Spirit. Put some flares into it!” to Bravo 060. Three flares were launched, but no explosions or anything was seen. What was seen though, was the Spirit turning to it far right, as if going to a Covenant spaceship for either repairs, or to get an escort. The two Pelicans continued on their course to Woskia, but ten miles per hour faster just in case they were going to run into more Covenant.

A couple of minutes later the pilot of Bravo 060 radioed in to Jeremie O’Mitchell to tell him of the incident. Lieutenant Commander O’Mitchell was worried that it would come back with Covenant fighters, and told the two Pelicans to speed it up even more by seven miles per hour.



Over in Bravo 060, a lot of the men were talking. Among one of them was a Private George McManus. Though he was in F Company of the specified regiment that was supposed to be in Bravo 060 and Echo 212, he was a member of Staff Sergeant Shampson’s fire team. He had gotten onto the wrong dropship because the one he was supposed to get in to closed its rear doors before he could get to hangar-1 because he was late. Again. He would always be late to nearly anything. His first date, his high school prom, lunch, you name it, and he was probably late for it.

At that moment, he was aiming his unloaded BR-55 rifle around the Pelican, imagining Covenant to practice accuracy and time how long it would take to aim his rifle.

Another marine, Corporal Vibes, was sitting on the opposite side of the Pelican. He grew tired of seeing George aiming his gun all around the ship. “Hey hotshot, would’ja stop aiming your friggin’ gun around? You’re gonna’ hit somebody, either with your elbow or with a bullet.” Vibes rudely said to the marine of a lower rank. He then murmured “Idiot.” to himself.

“Sorry.” George apologized, and stopped his aiming.

Vibes didn’t think that an apology was enough. “Y’know, if you freakin’ put a shot into somebody head their mother wouldn't find a simple ‘sorry’ to ease her pain.” He once again rudely commented. By now everyone else stopped talking, most likely all predicting a possible fight.

Another corporal from McManus’ side of the Pelican tried to calm the other corporal down. “Chill man. He has his safety on.”

Though the other corporal told him to “chill”, he did not. “No one besides my C. O.’s gonna’ tell me what to do!” Vibes went over and shoved the corporal trying to calm him into some seated marines. The shoved corporal and the two seated marines that had the corporal shoved into them got up and shoved Vibes back. The shove fight continued for another ten seconds or so until at least half of the marines on the dropship were shoving each other.

A lieutenant of one of the platoons got up and told everyone to stop their fight. They did not. He told them to stop again, and they, once again, did not. He then pulled out his shining, brand new M6D Pistol and fired upwards to get everyone's attention. A thing the lieutenant forgot was that there was a ceiling less than a foot above the muzzle of his pistol. The bullet ricocheted off the ceiling and went into the back of a lance corporal.

The co-pilot heard the shot. “What the Hell do you think that was?” she asked the pilot.

“I don't know.” the pilot responded. “Go check it out, would ya’?”

The co-pilot opened the door to the transportation area to see a lot more than there should be. “Eeek!” she screamed. The lance corporal was dead on the ground, bleeding all over the floor, and everyone had immediately stopped the fight and all crowded away from the center.

The pilot heard the scream from his co-pilot, so he got up to check on what had happened in the back. He activated auto-pilot, and entered the holding area. He, also, saw the dead marine. “What the Hell? What in the Lord’s name happened?” he asked everyone, hoping he would get an answer. But, no, he did not get an answer. “I said, ‘What in the Lord’s name happened?’!” he once again asked, this time expecting an answer. Once again, no answer. He looked at his co-pilot. “Get his name, and tell me it. I’ll be on the radio.” He walked back to his seat to radio in to O’Mitchell. “Bravo 060 to UNSC L’amour, come in, over.”

“This is the L’amour. We read you, Bravo 060. Is there a problem? Over.” A crewman in the bridge of the L’amour responded.

The co-pilot came into the cockpit to report her findings. “Lance Corporal ‘J. Baumms’.”

He nodded to her to show he heard her, and then got back on the radio. “A ‘Lance Corporal J. Baumms’ has been killed somehow in our holding area, and no one will cough up who did it, and not even what happened. This needs to be told to O’Mitchell as soon as can be done. Over.”

The crewman on the other end looked into the Lieutenant Commander’s office to try to see him, but could not. “Sorry sir,” he started on the radio, “but Commander O’Mitchell seems to be away for the time being. Is that all? Over.”

“Yes, that is all. Inform him when he next can be. Out.” the pilot responded.



Back in Echo 212, the platoon was talking about random things among one another. Shampson, a veteran, was telling Private Boyle about a battle that he was in. “And so, after half an hour of fighting, the company took nine casualties, and the Covenant company took over 80! Also, during the battle I emptied not even one clip of my MA5B. It turned out I shot only six rounds during that half hour.”

“Only six rounds?” Boyle inquired. “I’d imagine that you would have shot something more like, 120 in 30 minutes. Not a measly six.”

“Well,” Brendon started to explain, “I only saw two grunts in the battle. Most of the fighting was elsewhere. The company lost a sergeant, so that’s how I got my third stripe.

In the cockpit, Pavel got a radio message from the pilot of Bravo 060 about the shooting earlier. “Bravo 060 to Echo 212, are you receiving? Over.”

Pavel flipped the switch to start his response. “Yes, we read you 060. Over.”

The pilot of Bravo 060 was happy to know that his message was received. He informed, “A ‘J. Baumms’ has been shot in our Pelican. Over.”

Pavel was shocked. He was just talking to Baumms a few minutes before Polski told him to get ready to load up. He had grown quite fond of Baumms. Baumms was a veteran marine. He was in the battle that Shampson was telling Boyle about, in fact. Pavel was hoping that he would be able to talk to him on Woskia’s surface. He started to talk back on the radio, “How was he killed? Over.”

“Someone shot him in the back.” The other pilot told. “I’m not sure if it was murder, or manslaughter, actually. Over.”

Browning was really hoping he would get to know who killed his new buddy. “Roger. Out.” He messaged over the radio.



Lieutenant Polski was going around the UNSC L’amour doing his tasks. He had already checked up on the crewmen in engineering. He now had to check all of the guns in the armory to make sure none were missing. He found that an M6D Pistol and extra Assault Rifle ammunition was missing. He knew it was Jensen’s doing, so he reported it as “Misplaced, but sure that it’s not being smuggled” to save the Corporal’s hide from possible court martial because of “gun smuggling”.

Leon continued down the hall. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a probably seven foot tall man in green armor jogging down the hall towards him. The man in green ran by without showing any real attention to the officer.

A crewman went over to Polski to ask him a question. “Sir, what the Hell was that?”

Polski had no idea. “Quite frankly, I have no idea. It might have been one of those ‘Spartin super soldiers’ I heard about. I’ve never seen any in picture in real life before, though.”

“That’s glad to hear, sir.” The enlisted man thanked. “I thought it was some green Covenant Elite, or something. Sure is tall enough. I was thinking that we were being infiltrated, or something.”

Leon continued down the hallway, wondering what that thing he saw momentarily earlier was. He took a short break in his quarters that was just down the hallway from where he saw the man in green and told the crewman what he told him. That morning he forgot to cross out yesterday’s date on the calendar, so he crossed out “January 8th” with his yellow marker on his UNSC issued “Division Insignia 2551” calendar, featuring twelve marine divisions’ insignia, one for each month, and five marine corps’ insignia for the seasons.

Polski left his quarters to continue on his tasks. He next had to tell the now Lieutenant Commander Gate’s company that was originally under his command that he would be transferred to the UNSC Brenner, another starship that was the same model as the L’amour’s, but was in the 471st Marine Division, a unit of the 163th Marine Corps, a whole 61 above the 116th, that was in the 102nd Marine Corps.

Leon entered the lunchroom of the company that Gate commanded. Everyone was eating lunch. A long line on the far end of the room could be seen, all men hungrily waiting in line to get food. The Lieutenant went to what was somewhat the center part of a wall so most of the members of the company would be able to view him. “Attention, company.” He ordered to the company that immediately stood up at attention. He was caught somewhat off guard by their reaction time. “You all may sit.” He started. He was going to say “At ease”, but that could give some marines the idea that what he was going to say was unimportant, but it was. He started to tell, “Today, your Lieutenant of the company, Lieutenant Gate, got promoted to Lieutenant Commander. He will now be in command of a whole ship.”

The group rejoiced when they heard that. Lieutenant Polski could not continue with his announcement because it was so loud.

After most of the cheering stopped, he continued. “A bad thing is that he is being unwillingly transferred to the UNSC Brenner, a ship of the 471st.”

All the cheering went away. One specific marine was angered to hear this. “Those limey wankers are taking are taking our company leader?!”

“No one takes our leader away!” Another marine yelled.

“Yeah!” A third marine joined in.

Soon, many of the men were rioting in the mess hall. With his message stated, Leon slipped out the door, hoping the men would not then expect him to request the colonel of the regiment to change his mind. With that not happening, Leon went to his quarters to take a relaxing fifteen-minute break, as all of his orders were completed. He pulled out “The Battle of Harvest”, a non-fiction book about the Battle on the planet of Harvest that took place 26 years earlier.

Chapter 2

Leon finished his chapter in his book, went down to the bridge, and was told he had no more orders for today. Being glad to hear that, he went to his quarters for a longer break with his book.

Without the Lieutenant noticing, a lot of time had gone by. He had been reading for five hours! He headed on over to his battalion’s mess hall for dinner.



Echo 212 and Bravo 060 approached Woskia. They were both due to reach the surface within ten minutes. Both Pavel and the pilot of Bravo 060 told their passengers about the arrival time being so short.

In Bravo 060, after the five hours of Baumms being dead, he was set aside, and had his ammunitions and weapons taken away from him for usage perpouses. His pool of blood was also, for the most part, cleaned up. But still, after that whole time, no one told anyone anything about what happened.

McManus was thinking that it was allhis fault. If he