Matt-038 (Halo Fanfiction)

Chapter 27: Test Run

Author's Note: If you have any tips writing tips, please feel free to comment.

Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

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Chapter 27: Test Run

Location: Epsilon Eridani system, planet Reach, UNSC Military Reservation 01478-B

August 29, 2552

0745 hours

Matt blurred into motion. He dove from the activation platform and—before the soldiers could adjust their aim—landed in their midst. He rolled to his feet right next to the soldier who fired first and grabbed the man's rifle.

Matt brutally yanked the weapon away from the soldier. There was a loud cracking sound as the man's shoulder dislocated. The wounded trooper stumbled forward, off balance. Matt spun the rifle and slammed the butt of the weapon into the soldier's side. The man exhaled explosively as his ribs cracked. He grunted, and fell unceremoniously to the floor, unconscious.

Matt spun to face the left-flank gunner, assault rifle leveled at the man's head instantly. He had the man in his sights, but he still had time—the soldier was not quite in position. To Matt's enhanced senses, amped up by Crystal and the neural interface, the rifleman seemed to be moving in slow motion. Too slow.

Matt lashed out with the rifle butt again. The trooper's head snapped back from the sudden, powerful blow. He flipped head over tail and slammed into the ground. Matt sized the man's condition up with a practiced eye: shock, concussion, fractured vertebrae.

Gunner number two was out of the fight.

The remaining gunner completed his turn and opened fire. A three-round burst ricocheted off the MJOLNIR armor's energy shield. The shield's recharge bar flickered a hairbreadth.

Before the soldier could react, Matt sidestepped and slammed his own rifle down—hard. The trooper screamed as his leg gave out. A jagged spoke of bone burst through the wounded man's fatigues. Matt finished him with a rifle butt to his helmeted head.

Matt checked the condition of the rifle, and—satisfied that it was in working order—began to pull ammo clips from the fallen soldiers' belt pouches. The lead soldier also carried a razor-edged combat knife; Matt grabbed it.

"You could have killed them," Crystal said. "Why didn't you?"

"My orders gave me permission to 'neutralize' threats," he replied. "They aren't threats anymore."

"Semantics," Crystal replied. She sounded amused. "I can't argue with the results, though—" She broke off, suddenly. "New targets. Seven contacts on the motion tracker," Crystal reported. "We're surrounded."

Seven more soldiers. Matt could open fire now and kill them all. Under any other circumstances, he would have removed such threats. But their MA5Bs were no immediate danger to him . . . and the UNSC could use every soldier to fight the Covenant.

He strode to the center pole of the tent, and with a yank, he pulled it free. As the roof fluttered down, he slashed a slit in the tent fabric and shoved through.

He faced three Marines; they fired—the Commander deftly jumped to one side. He sprang toward them and lashed out with the steel pole, swiped out their legs. He heard bones crack—followed by screams of pain.

Matt turned as the tent finished collapsing. The remaining four men could see him now. One reached for a grenade on his belt. The other three tracked him with their assault rifles.