Halo: Heroes All

{|style="width:100%; color:#FFF;"
 * valign="top" style="padding:10px;" class="onr"|

"A hero is a man who does what he can."

- Romain Rolland.

Prologue
"I'm no hero. Heroes don't come back. Survivors return home. Heroes never come home. If anyone thinks I'm a hero, I'm not."

- Bob Feller.

Log 1
0830 STANDARD TIME (UNSC STANDARD) / OCTOBER 20, 2552 / STATION ONR South / 350 NAUTICAL MILES ABOVE CANBERRA / CONFERENCE ROOM 1

'''The following transcript is the intellectual property of the Office of Naval Research. Any and all ideas, concepts or other intellectual revelations are also the property of the Office of Naval Research. This transcript is classified as: '''TOP-SECRET - COMPARTMENTALIZED INFORMATION '''[G. Freeman]:''' I am Lieutenant Commander Gordon Freeman, and for the record, this is a transcript of the quarterly meeting of the Armaments Department, which I oversee, with Lieutenant Sulu in actual command of the department. The Armaments Department is a subsection of the Special Project division of the Office of Naval Research; regarding the state of projects in development. Mr. Hoffman, could you please start us off by stating your name and rank, along with the status of your project.

'''[J. Hoffman]:''' Yessir. For the record, my name is Lieutenant (junior grade) James Hoffman. I am in charge of the modification program of the W/AV M6 G/GNR "Spartan Laser" weapon system. So far, we've been able to cut an additional 2.45 kilograms of weight off the weapon with a simple redesign of the internal components, and the adoption of Mr. Freemans's newer and lighter 5-shot capable battery. Also to note is the -

[PA System]: Now hear this! Action Stations! All hands to action stations! This is not a drill!

'''[J. Hoffman]:''' ...as I was saying, the new variant of the M6 G is equipped with a 3x zoom-magnification scope. The modifications are being introduced as a kit, to be installed on a weapon system by a trained armaments technician. Miriah Armaments, the usual producer of UNSC arms, has oped out of producing them, due to other, more pressing orders. However, Aperture Science stepped up to produce the weapon, for a few thousand less credits. That concludes my abbreviated report. Sir?

'''[G. Freeman]:''' Very good. Lieutenant Sulu, if you will?

'''[H. Sulu]:''' Aye, Sir. My name Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu, and I work under Lieutenant Commander Freeman on Project:RELATIVITY - rather, the development of a Shaw-Fujikawa Slipstream space engine capable of attaining a much higher velocity then current UNSC military models. Commander Freeman and myself (the primary physicists and mathematicians on this project) examined a Covena-

[Sulu pauses midsentence, and looks up at Freeman, questioningly]

'''[H. Sulu]:''' Sir, everyone here is rated TSCI, correct? Am I authorized to continue, on the record?

'''[G. Freeman]:''' Go ahead, Mr. Sulu. Everyone present is going to get an extra security clearance or two because of new Ownie security things anyway, and I'm going to apply more clearances required for this transcript. But, for the record, explain it simply.

'''[H. Sulu]:''' Aye. As I was saying, me and the Lieutenant Commander theorized that we can use a fairly complex plasma particle accelerator, that we viewed and figured out how to make and use, from a captured Covenant Slipspace engine, aboard the UNSC Gettysburg. How that warship came to come possess such a device is classified. But, with this new system, entering slipsteam space will be less power consuming, and require less overall power to remain in 'slipspace', allowing for a higher attainable velocity, by diverting the additional unused power to engines, to tunnel through the seven spatial dimensions (that comprise of slipstream aside from this tangible dimension) at a higher velocity. That is the program in the nutshell, without all the specifics and things that would require a clearance. However, this entire program is still in the conceptual stage, and will require up to a year to cultivate it into an actual blueprint for construction of a prototype.

'''[H. Sulu]:''' Additionally, for the record, I must request more physicists and mathematicians from another department to help with the number crunching. Perhaps the Auditing department...?

[Ensign Jim Rodriguez enters room in a hurry, and salutes CMD Freeman]

[Freeman returns the salute]

'''[J. Rodriguez]''' Sir, FLEETCOM and HIGHCOM just flashed a Priority 1 message to all ships and stations. The Covenant just slipped in system; mostly above the Mediterranean area. Allied forces are engaging, but it looks like one Carrier got planetside over New Mombasa. Needless to say, HIGHCOM is freaking out.

[Room becomes deathly silent.]

'''[G. Freeman]:''' Right, meeting adjourned. Rodriguez, talk to me.

[Everyone leaves room]

[Room becomes silent]

0852 STANDARD TIME (UNSC STANDARD) / OCTOBER 20, 2552 / STATION ONR South / 350 NAUTICAL MILES ABOVE CANBERRA / CONFERENCE ROOM 1

[Multiple handgun shots are heard]

[Four armed UNSC personnel open the door, and rush the room, closing the door behind them, and barricading the door with a chair.]

[Personnel identified as: G. Freeman, J. Rodriguez, H. Sulu, and R. Waters]

'''[G. Freeman]:''' Shit, they know where we are... give me a hand tipping over this table.

[Personnel knock a conference table over, forming makeshift cover, and get behind it.]

[Plasma fire is heard, and the door starts to buckle from repeated hits from 3,500 C° plasma bolts.]

[The four surviving UNSC scientists reload their assorted weaponry (Freeman has a BR55, Sulu armed with a M7C, and Rodriguez and Waters with a M6D and M6C respectfully).]

[The door buckles from sustained superheated plasma fire, and collapses, and Covenant Grunts swarm through the now-clear doorway.]

'''[R. Waters]:''' Fire!

[All four military men open fire, mowing down first the swarming Grunts, followed by the pair of Elites. The Elites briskly fell, following the failure of their shields from repetitive bullet strikes. Plasma fire impacts on the tough titanium table, melting sections of it, and molten metal spatters all over the floor. A pair of plasma bolts impact on Freeman's Hazardous Environment (HEV) suit, but harmlessly dissipate against the hardened Titanium-A plates, although the orange paint is burned off]

[Waters starts screaming, from a category four plasma wound to his shoulder, that burned right through his Dress Whites, to the bone. Fortunately, any and all blood from the wound was cauterized from the heat of the superheated plasma.]

'''[G. Freeman]:''' Ensign Rodriguez, grab Chief Waters and drag his ass to the Hanger! We can't stay here to treat his wounds. We'll cover you.

'''[J. Rodriguez]:''' Aye, Sir. Come on, Chief. You can make it.

Log 2
(0856) STANDARD TIME (UNSC STANDARD) / OCTOBER 20, 2552 / (SOEIV PODS 1-17 [6TH BATTALION ORBITAL DROP REGIMENT]) / (EN ROUTE TO SYDNEY THEATRE [ALTITUDE: 92,000M AND FALLING])

(SOEIV PODS 6-10 [2ND SQUAD 6TH BN])

[Deployed personnel:

(end of personnel report)]
 * Gunnery Sergeant Michael 'Smoke' Robson (aged 33) [POD 6]
 * Corporal Leonard 'Church' Bishop (aged 19) [POD 7]
 * Corporal Callum 'Spade' Nash (aged 24) [POD 8]
 * Lance Corporal Ryan 'Warlock' Phillips (aged 22) [POD 9]
 * Pvt Amelia 'Wendy' Dawson (aged 24) [POD 10]

''[M. Robson hunches in his cramped SOIEV pod, calming himself over the unrelenting noise. White hot flames lick the viewports as his pod streaks through the upper atmosphere towards the city of Sydney. The steady whining grows as it gains speed; soon it reaches a deafening roar.]''

''[M. Robson flicks a switch on the illuminated control panel facing him.]''

'''[M. Robson]''': (POD 6) Altitude fifty kilometres and falling. Drag chutes prepped and ready for deployment. You know the situation, guys and girls. The Covvies have air superiority, heavy armour and masses of infantry currently converging on the FLEETCOM HQ.

 [ A. Dawson ] : (POD 10) And we get to drop in on them and shoot their asses up- literally.

'''[M. Robson]''': (POD 6) That's right Wendy. Keep in nice and close, we don't wanna lose one another groundside.

 [ A. Nash ] : (POD 8) [laughs] We'll be lucky if we don't bury ourselves inside a building; seriously, this is why urban drops have significantly- ''[R. Phillips interrupts [C. Nash]''

''[A small flashing symbol lights up on M. Robson console; barely audible over the din was is warning tone.

(WARNING: ENEMY UNITS ON APPROACH VECTOR)

 [ R. Phillips ] : (POD 9) Sir, six Banshees, about to engage us! Approaching from the southeast, 2 half a klick and closing.

'''[M. Robson]''': Squad, take evasive action, scatter. We’ll regroup on the ground. Hold your chutes as long as possible; don't let them get a firing solution on the final deceleration.

''[Flashes of brilliant blue light light dance beyond M. Robson's viewports as the Banshees attempt to hit the pods. He slowly angles his pod away from the others to present a more difficult target. (Estimated probability of full squad survival after deviation from preplanned coordinates: 3,720 to 1.)]

 [ L. Bishop ] : (POD 7) Sir, I’m hit!. She’s outta control, drag chute’s not responding!”

'''[M. Robson]''': Get a hold of her, auxiliary thrusters!

'''[L. Bishop]''': Negative, thrusters gone, I'm losing power!

(WARNING: ENEMY UNITS ENGAGING GEOSAT-229/A)

'''[R. Phillips]''': Sir, Covenant forces attacking our support satellite! Automated weapons engaging. If we lose that, we're on short range radio only!

[Banshees continue to strafe SOIEV Pods]

''[A. Dawson consults her computer console]''

'''[A. Dawson]''': Church, your backup chute is undamaged, but your computer systems are fried. You're gonna have to do it manually, using the emergency release!

''[L. Bishop attempts to free the emergency chute release. L. Bishop fails.]

'''[L. Bishop]''': I'm trying now, but it won't move, it's jammed!

''[L. Bishop slams his fist into his unlit console.]''

'''[C. Nash]''': Sir, getting live ground feed from our support satellite; the facility's being overrun. Air units are in full retreat, Marines are- ''[M. Robson interrupts C. Nash]''

'''[R. Phillips]''': Altitude one thousand two hundred metres, drag chutes standby! [speaking over C. Nash]

'''[M. Robson]''': Least of our worries right now, Spade!

'''[R. Phillips]''': All pods, set final descent vector to entry coordinates. Drag chutes, on standby.

'''[L. Bishop]''': It won't fucking budge! Fuck!

''[L. Bishop strikes the inside of his pod repeatedly.]''

'''[M. Robson]''': All troopers, prepare for combat insertion, we're hot the moment we touch down. Church, keep trying! It'll come loose, it's got to!

'''[C. Nash]''': Altitude six hundred metres, drag chutes deploying!

error//PODS 6-10/2SD-6BN//contact lost

......

......







[[ error//501//hardware failure//SATLINK-229/A>

[ERROR: Telemetry lost; signal from POD 6/2SD-6BN terminates abruptly]

[ERROR: Telemetry lost; signal from POD 7/2SD-6BN terminates abruptly]

[ERROR: Telemetry lost; signal from POD 8/2SD-6BN terminates abruptly]

[ERROR: Telemetry lost; signal from POD 9/2SD-6BN terminates abruptly]

[ERROR: Telemetry lost; signal from POD 10/2SD-6BN terminates abruptly]

<possible hardware failure or datastream interruption; initiating diagnostic/error//501 ]]

Log 3
0857 STANDARD TIME (UNSC STANDARD) / OCTOBER 20, 2552 / ODST Ready Room 2, aboard the UNSC Cruiser New Jersey / High-Orbit, over Sydney

[The UNSC Crusier New Jersey shudders as a direct hit shakes the Cruiser. The Marathon-class Cruiser fired its trio of Magnetic Accelerator Cannons, the almost churchbell-like resounding throughout the ship.]

[1MC]: Plasma Impact, decks five, six and seven, at frames twenty-nine, thirty, and thirty-one! Damage Control parties, evacuate and secure surrounding compartments on the double. ODST and Marine forces, prepare for immediate deployment. All hands, put on pressure suits and begin preparations to abandon ship, but do not abandon your posts.

[The four ODSTs in Ready Room 2 look up in various degrees of interest. ODSTs are as follows: Gunnery Sergeant L. Simmons, First Lieutenant W. Wright, Corporal S. Gilbert, and Private First Class A. Davies.]

[L. Simmons]: Well, shit.

[W. Wright]: Stow it, Gunny. You heard the XO - we're finally getting off ship. Grab your gear, and get to your pods.

[A. Davies]: Aye, Sir.

[S. Gilbert]: Lieutenant, Any intel of where we are being dropped into? Kit?

'''[W. Wright]:''' No, Corporal. Kit'll be rifles and submachine guns; the norm for a unplanned jump.

[The ODSTs quickly retrieve weapons and ammunition from nearby armory, just as the ship takes a major hit to the bridge, amidships, and the reactor compartments.]

[1MC]: This is Commander Tucker, Engineering Department commander. The bridge just took a direct hit, all command crew KIA. We just lost reactors, and power will fail shortly. We're also losing atmosphere at an uncontrollable rate. As the senior remaining officer on the ship, I hereby take command of this vessel, and order all hands to abandon stations and ship, and get planetside. ODSTs and Marine Corps, get off the ship anyway you can. That is all.

'''[W. Wright]:''' You heard the Commander! Into your Pods! Lets go!

[The troopers pile into their respective Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicles, and rotate their pods into the launching bay.]

'''[R. Daley] (COM):''' Troopers, this is Major Daley, HIGHCOM. New orders are being dispatched, as you abandon your vessel. The Covenant are in Sydney, and you are to assist the defense of the city. Get a move on. Daley out.

[1MC]: Covenant landing forces inbound! Abandon ship! I repeat; get the hell off the ship; I'm enacting the Cole Protocol, and about to self-destruct the New Jersey.

[More SOEIVs are readied for launch in a hurry, appearing in the drop bay, poised for launch.]

'''[L. Simmons]:''' Fuck! Where the hell is the CO!? I bet the Marines and even the Navy is groundside by now!

'''[W. Wright] :''' Calm the fuck down, Leo. The CO is probably just a few secon-

[A tremendous explosion rocks the ship, plasma engulfing part of the Drop bay. The pods in the way of the plasma were vaporized, before the plasma dispersed.]

'''[W. Wright]:''' You're right Gunny; screw this. [LT Wright switches to DROPCOM] All troopers; as XO of the 103rd ODST Company, and as a commissioned officer in the UNSC Marine Corps, I'm authorizing the drop the entire regiment immediately.

[Wright punches his authorization code, and a hurried three-second countdown commences]

'''[W. Wright] (DROPCOM):''' Grab a hold of something, boys and gals - we're going down.

[One-hundred and eleven SOEIVs are released, rocket engines blowing the pods out of the hanger bay, officers and squad leaders first.]

'''[A. Davies] (DROPCOM):''' Inbound Intel, direct from HIGHCOM, concerning Sydney... Shit! The entire orbital defenses around it have been obliterated... All UNSC fighters in the region are grounded or destroyed... Covenant only just touched down, and the city is mostly unoccupied, but what UNSC forces are being pulled back to the square around the HIGHCOM Facility. Naturally, FLEETCOM is ordering us to defend it at all costs.

'''[L. Simmons]:''' Goddamn. Another fucking suicide mission, to save those Rear Echelon Motherfuckers.

'''[W. Wright]:''' Goddamnit, Leo. Get a hold of your self. You're a fracking Gunnery Sergeant - act like it. I need everyone cool and frosty when we impact in...one minutes twelve seconds, according to telemetry.

'''[A. Davies]:''' Sorry to interrupt, Sir, but...

'''[A. Davies] (DROPCOM):'The UNSC New Jersey'' just self-destructed in orbit - taking out a Corvette apparently. Furthermore, the Covenant pushed through the the Fleet over the Australian continent, decimating it, before being nailed by our few remaining Super MAC guns. Reinforcements are inbound, but their arrival, with regards to the heavier attacks elsewhere, is doubtful...shit! The Covenant are planetside in Africa as well, in New Mombasa, and the Kenyan area!

'''[S. Gilbert]:''' Forty-five seconds until impact. Standby to scatter for inser-

'''[H. Walker] (DROPCOM):''' Banshees! Scatter!

'''[W. Wright] (DROPCOM): ''' Troopers! Spread out! Altitude is 45,000 meters... impact in 34 seconds. Tee-minus 30 seconds and counting until primary drag chute deployment.

[22 seconds of silence]

'''[E. Rodgers] (DROPCOM): ''' Banshee's engaging! Agh! Banshee just shot 'way my main drag chute! I'm headed in!

'''[L. Simmons] (DROPCOM):''' Quiet on the command channel. You've trained for that contingency - we don't want to hear about it; just fix it. Oh, and 'chutes in tee minus three... two... one... mark!

[Drag chutes in most SOEIVs blossom, and decelerate the pods to a more sane velocity. Several more deploy late, while a few unfortunate souls fired main thrusters early to lower landing velocity without drag chute]

'''[W. Wright] (DROPCOM):''' Boys and girls, thank for flying Helljumper Air. Please have a pleasant evening and -

[Thrusters fire, decelerating pods yet more, as the drag chute is released.]

'''[W. Wright] (DROPCOM):''' Happy landings.

[FEED LOST]

[ATTEMPTING TO REESTABLISH FEED...]

[...]

[FAILURE. FEED LOST]

[ End of Log ]

Log 4
2113 STANDARD TIME (UNSC STANDARD) / OCTOBER 11, 2552 / PERSONAL LOG ENTRY [26/26]/ 6TH BATTALION ORBITAL DROP REGIMENT])/GySgt Michael Robson

Still haven’t quite got over Reach. That dumbstruck horror feeling is gone now, but it’s been replaced by something else; I can’t quite put my finger on it. Whatever it is, it’s worse, I think. It’s a sort of hollow ache, loss or guilt or something. Never been one for emotions. I think its fear, though. And guilt. Seeing all those brave men and women die to keep the Covenant off the planet, to protect their homes; while I escaped it. Still haven’t heard from David or Ross; I reckon it’s official now. But it was always likely.

There’s nothing I’d rather be doing, though, if the end does come. In Humanity’s final stand, I want to be doing the standing. We don’t have much left, these days. Just hope. I’m glad I enlisted. Glad to be doing my bit, to be fighting for my species.

Next time I get some leave I'll go and see my sister. She’s not been doing great lately, but it's unlikely I'll get to see her any time soon. I'll talk to her tomorrow, if I can. She's missing mum and dad something terrible. Arcadia was years ago. I am too, but I have fighting a war to worry about.

0711 STANDARD TIME (UNSC STANDARD) / OCTOBER 20, 2552 / PERSONAL LOG ENTRY [27/27]/ 6TH BATTALION ORBITAL DROP REGIMENT])/GySgt Michael Robson

So, the Covvies are on our doorstep. From what I've heard, Command's running round like headless chickens planning contingency plans for when we get hit. We’re currently stationed above Sydney; we'll deploy via HEVs to the city centre to protect HIGHCOM Facility Bravo-6. They’ve chosen Sydney for a last stand, if that’s the way things'll go. Just now we had a hurried joint meeting with the entire 6th Battalion; the squad commanders all argued at the futility of it all. I said we had no chance of successfully deploying to the surface and retaliating without air support. Repelling them from the city under the sort of fire we’re likely to encounter is impossible. The whole operation’s insane. The chances of success are zero.

Nobody argued with me, I mean nobody discussed it. We were just told flatly, a simple, unsupported assertion, that the weight of our numbers on the ground would overcome all opposition. I think those words sent a chill down the spine of every man who remembered Reach. Those few of us there were. I threw my datapad down and sat with my arms folded, silent, for the rest of the briefing.

So here we sit writing log entries. Data transfer to the surface is restricted to allow priority communication. No one's received data storage allowance for weeks now, so I keep giving people my own free log spaces.

Not many left now. But enough.

Chapter I: Impact
"It doesn't take a hero to order men into battle. It takes a hero to be one of those men who goes into battle."

- Norman Schwarzkopf.

United Nations Space Command Priority Transmission 000728-01
Encryption Code: file/ silent reproach/ 

Public Key: Encrypted; Priority One Message 

From: Fleet Admiral H.T. Ward, Commanding Officer of UNSC HIGHCOM / (UNSC Service Number: XXXXX-XXX972-HW)

To: All UNSC units in the Sol System

Subject: Amended orders for all uncommitted UNSC vessels in the proximity of Sydney HIGHCOM Facility Bravo-6

Classification: Need to Know Only

Attention,

All UNSC Personnel heed and stand to.