Halo: From Start to Finish

This fanfiction article, Halo: From Start to Finish, was written by Sgt.T.N.Biscuits. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission.

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Background

Halo: From Start to Finish is an under-construction story written by Sgt.T.N.Biscuits. It follows the military career of Staff Sergeant Darrell Mac, from his time as an Air Force recruit to his introduction into the 105th Special Forces.

Cast

• Staff Sergeant Darrell Mac (Air Force Special Operations Command)
• Private Colin Mac (UNSC Marine Corps)
• Fleet Admiral Preston Cole (UNSC Navy)

Prologue

November 6th, 2553

Kenyan Jungles, East Africa Protectorate, Earth

The dark, frigid wind blew against Staff Sergeant Darrell Mac as he walked off the ramp of a camoflaged Dropship-77 "Pelican" Troop Carrier. His unpolarized ODST helmet did little to block the stench of blood from the fallen Covenant foes that had taken down so many of his troops oh, so long ago. Just the look of his sorroundings reminded him of the battle he had fought here and the many times he had seen his life flash before him, as he tilted between the shallow line of life and death.

He leaned down on one knee as he read the dogtag of a fallen comrade. A tear ran down his face, one he didn't even bother to wipe. It didn't matter whether anyone saw. These were his men. His friends and soldiers, the ones who had given their lives for him, and dammit he was going to give them the respect they deserved.

By the time he had released the dogtag back on the soldier's chest, the one tear had turned into a river running down his face.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

"You don't even know."

Mac paused for a moment, then rose back on his feet.

"It's sad to see the bodies are still here," remarked the British-accented voice. "I geuss it was never among the UNSC's concerns to clean up this place."

"Well yeah. We're probably the first ones here since the battle," Darrell replied wiping the dirt off one of his dark gloves. He leaned against a tree, wiping the sweat on his face.

"Darrel, come quick!" shouted the voice. "I think there is something you need to see."

Mac put down his helmet and ran toward the man. The moment he saw the pale, female face of the fallen soldier, he had fallen to his knees in tears.

Chapter 1

September 11th, 2528

UNSC Joint Military Training Facility, Cyrus VII

"And don't even think about smiling one more damn time, trainee!" shouted the deep voice at Darrell. He could feel the man's breath rushing at him. "This is not the goddamned girl scouts! Do you understand?"

"Yessir!" shouted Mac. He made sure that he remained in a perfect stance, looking directly ahead.

"Alright, trainees. It's time to run!" the dark skinned drill Sergeant shouted. The recruits began running. When Darrell began as well, the Sergeant shouted at him.

"Darrell, you get to run extra for your little action earlier," the Sergeant said, a grin on his face. He then anounnced to the recruits, "Our little trainee Mac decided to mess around earlier. Now if he screws up and begins walking. Well, then we all get to run extra!" Darrell's fellow recruits began groining and complaining over the fact that they had to depend on him.

It had been half an hour since they began running, and although it was still early in the morning, the planet's humid weather had already kicked in. Darrell wiped a puddle of sweat off his head as he shouted an Air Force jody call.

I wanna be an Air Force pilot

I wanna fly an AV-14

I wanna fly with the cockpit open

I wanna hear those covvies scream

"Louder, Mac!" shouted his drill instructor. "I want the flyboys back on Reach to hear you!"

He shouted the hum even louder. He ignored the fact that everyone of his muscles ached. He just closed his eyes and ran.

Four Years Later

Mac opened his eyes in a matter of seconds as the sound of an AC-220 roared overhead. The memories of his training that had just bursted through his head as soon gone, washed out by a mixture of pain and sorrow. He looked at his burnt hands, the smell of his melted gloves mixing with the damage to the skin. As he rolled over to his left side, he the blood from his waist mixing with the dark dirt, turning it into a pile of mud. His eyesight began to flicker, blurry images becoming true again. Mac didn't both to get up. He felt it would be all over soon.

So this is death

He layed down in the dirt for what he felt were mere minutes. Closing his eyes, his memories began again.

Three Years Earlier

Patton National Cemetery, Mannassas, Reach

"And so let us always remember Private Colin Mac's honor and service he bestowed upon his species. Serving the world for all that is right, protecting the men and women of the Unified Earth Government so that one day we can follow in his footsteps. May he rest in peace..."

"Present Arms!" the sergeant shouted as seven of the UNSC's finest soldiers rose their BR55 Battle Rifles in prefect presicion, aiming them into the sky.

"Ready"

"Aim"

"Fire"

Crack

Two more times they fired, remembering the fallen soldier for all he had done.

Darrel Mac looked over to his mother whose face was covered in tissues that brushed off the running tears. In her lifetime of 52 years, she had already seen more funerals then Mac ever would. Or so he thought.

Three Years Later

Mac regained consincous one more. His eyes opened to the sky and noticed that the Vulture Gunship no longer hovered above him. The silence broke as he walked up the dirt trench he layed in and noticed the howling engine of the AV-14 Sparrowhawk he had arrived in. Limping on one foot, Mac crossed the dirt and pines of the nearby forest to approach the craft. He peeked inside to see the condition of his fellow pilot.

"Jesus Christ," he thought aloud as he saw the man with a chunk of rebar stuck through his waist. Mac stood up, pondering into the sky, wondering how long he had been here. He tried to remember what had happened, but everything was just so...so hard. His vision began to blur again as he felt the blood resting on the back of his head.

He tried to walk, but he seemed to be unable to do so. He limped on one leg toward a path leading into the dark forest. He picked up an MA5B Assault Rifle and cocked back the charging handle. The ammunition counter clicked on, displaying the 12 shots remaining in the magazine. He pushed the rifle up against his shoulder and peered down the standard issue iron sights as he continued along the path. A long houling scream on this distance alerted Mac who turned to his side checking the woods behind him. All he could see was the vegitation along the path, of which the moonlight shined upon. The creatured yelped again, the noise sounding even louder. Mac stopped moving and perred the gun in the bushes. Thenoise grew closer, as it stepped on the branches

"Stand down!" yelled Mac. "You got ten seconds!"

The creature stopped moving. Mac opened fire, shooting the remaining 12 bullets in a matter of seconds. The figure fell. Mac aproached it, a deep fear consuming him. He looked over the organic figure, noticing the mask on the the top.

It was a grunt.

He felt a sigh of relief at the simple target he had killed. This relief soon left him as he looked into the sky and realized that one grunt could mean a whole Covenant invasion force.

Three Years Earlier

Jim Dandy's Roadside Diner, Manassass, Reach

"Darrell, please don't go back. I need you at home." The weary, saddened voice of Charlene Mac's voice brought a tear to her son's eye as she pleaded for him to drop out of the military. She had lost so many familry members, Darrell was among the only one left.

"Mom I have too," Mac replied, wipiing the tear off his face. "The UNSC needs me, humanity ne-"

"I need you."

Mac looked down at hhimself, wiped another tear on his face, and looked back at his mother. "I'm sorry mom, but I need to go."

He left the diner as his mother watched her only relative leave her.

Three Years Later

UNSC Everest, Groombridge-1830 System

December 24th, 2530

"Merry Christmas, Lance Corporal," a red-headed Navy Corpsman remarked as he interestingly looked at the man’s vitals.

“Where… where am I?” Mac questioned as he looked around at his surroundings. The room was dark, but he could make out the dark blue coloring of the wall and the machines around him. Dozens of colored wires led up to his body, tracking his conditions.

“The UNSC Everest, my friend,” the doctor continued to observe the Sergeant. “We found you down on the planet’s surface. You had a great deal of injuries, matter of fact; it’s remarkable that you survived that crash in the first place.”

Mac lifted his hand to his forehead and felt an immense pain. He looked up at an electronic calendar that hung from the wall. It read December 24th, 2530. Christmas.

“You mind telling me what happened down there?”

“I don—don’t remember.”

The doctor moved closer to observe the damage dealt to the Mac’s head. He pushed the man’s short cut hair aside and felt his head to see if there was any major damage. A second man walked in, a tall figure that created a large shadow in the room.

“Doctor,” the deathly familiar voice spoke. “How’s his condition?”

“Surprisingly well considering the extent of the crash he was in. I’d say recovery in maybe three days..?”

“Good, we’re going to need him speaking about what happened pretty soon. Marine recovery teams think they may have retrieved his package, but we need him to confirm if it’s really the one we found earlier.”

“Well,” the doctor remarked, a bit shaken and worried. “That leads us to another a problem. He’s seems to be suffering from a bit of amnesia. It’s most likely a result of—“

The tall figure interrupted the doctor, the sound of impatience in his voice. “How long until he recovers?”

“I’m not sure, Admiral. It could me matter of hours or months. All depends on his recovery.”

The man put his hands behind his back and kneeled down by the Sergeant. The light shown on his face and revealed the man’s identity. It was Preston Cole.

“Well let’s try to get him talking pretty damn soon.”

Chapter 2

UNSC colony world Bliss, Groombridge-1830 System

December 25th, 2530

Master Sergeant Gary Anderson smacked a 36 round magazine into the butt of his BR55 Rifle as he jumped off of the edge of his D77-TC Pelican. The craft began to launch small amounts of dirt and plants off the ground as Andeson began leading a twelve member Marine squad off the craft. To the left of them, a second Pelican landed and deployed another contigency of troops. As the second squad began to move to their position, the Sergeant turned around to view his group of Marines. While most of them wore traditional body armour, two soldiers sported S90 Gas Masks and heavy armor. After observing the group he proceeded to lead them to their destination, the crash site of an AV-14 Sparrowhawk.

"Mader, take postion on that house, ASAP!" Anderson ordered to a young female private. Mader quickly responded, climbing the roof of a nearby civilian home and taking out her M329 Designated Marksman Rifle. She brought the weapon up to her shoulder peered down the optical scope and switched the firing function to fully automatic. The building below her was in bad condition, Covenant plasma mortars had destroyed the entire right corner of the structure, leaving a gaping hole in the place. Meanwhile, on the ground the second Marine squad led by Sergeant Vanda Seress arrived and took position on the ground near the craft.

"Echo-Three-Two, be on the look out for any hostile forces, the whereabouts of the pilots and their package is currently unknown." Warned Anderson as the two gas mask-donned soldiers approached the wreckage.

"Roger that Sergeant, we're moving towards the interior of the craft as we speak." Replied the female voice of one of the gas mask soldiers. The two Marines moved further in the craft, picking up and moving debris that stood in the way. After arriving in the middle of the craft, they stood guard for a while waiting to see something happen.

"You see any thing Corporal?" Asked Sergeant Seress in her Turkish accent.

"Negative Ma'am, only-- wait a minute.. Parker you hearing this?"

Lance Corporal Martin Parker clicked off his mic and listened to the area around him. Suddenly, the two soldiers heard the painful shriek of a Covenant Elite. They looked to left of them to see an extremely injued Covenant soldiers laying on the ground. Parker then turned to his superior officer, Corporal Mellisa, who was digging through the wreckage of the craft in search of the pilot.

"Well at least we found the package." Parker joked as he point the barrel of his MA5B into the creature's flesh.

"And the pilot..." Mellisa added as she lifted a plate of metal off of a bloodied and mangled human body. Parker nearly vomited as he his face moved back in surpirse of the body.

It was Mac's pilot.

UNSC Everest, Control Room 22-A

December 25th, 2530

A burning sensation of pain shot through the forehead of Darrell as he rested himself over the control panel of an engine room. He had been placed in the facility after going through what he believed to be a brief interrogation. A group of doctors had injected him with several drugs in order to help him remember the whereabouts of the Covenant prisoner he and his partner had detained. Although he had felt relieved at the fact tat he had began to regain his memories, the drugs were indeed having their side effects. over the past two hours, the airman had been going through brief periods of immense pain as a result of the injections. the doctors had promised him pain killers, but they were no where to be found.

After resting his head on his right hand for a brief period of time, he turned around to notice the door behind him opening.

"Good afternoon, soldier." Remarked Preston Cole as he entered the room. "We finally found the location of your... item."

"The Elite we captured." Replied Darrel, he was in no mood for a conversation, especially one that had to be spoken in such secrecy.

"Yes, he's been discovered by the troops of Second Platoon. We have him onboard a Pelican Dropship headed here for interrogation. Maybe we'll finally find out why there-"

"Attacking us?"

"Correct.'

"Well trust me, Admiral, the Covenant are no friendly group of people. If anything it's quicker and better to just kill them. Sometimes talking just takes to long."

He smiled, looking up at the esteemed Admiral who had a sense of disapproval and frustration on his face. Mac looked away from the man, directing his head down at the table in front of him. Quickly after Cole walked forward, leaned down, and grabbed one of the chairs next to the soldier. Now sitting in the metal seat he looked torwards Mac.

"On another note, you mind telling me what happened to your co-pilot. Wilson is it?"

Mac sighed with frustration and moved his hand up his forhead. He though for a moment, then turned to cole and answered him.

"Wilkerson, you mean? I think you and I know both know what happened him."

Suddenly the video-phone to the side of themm went off. The screen suddently displayed a UNSC Navy serviceman in a grey uniform and ceremonial cap. He looked at a TACPAD in his hand, before looking up to the screen and noticing that it was on.

"Admiral, we've recieved confirmation of the Pelican's landing. It's currently docked in Hanger A-2. Hazmat teams are awaiting your confirmation before we retrieve the prisoner from the dropship."

"Tell them I'm on my way over. I want to talk to this one myself."

Admiral Cole then left the room preparing for the interrogation of the Elite. Mac turned his chair around, leaned back on the table, and smiled. Things were starting to go good for once.