Matt-038 (Halo Fanfiction)

Chapter 41: Beach Landing

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 41: Beach Landing

Location: Surface of Halo

D +38:15:25 (SPARTAN-II Blue Team Mission Clock)

The Spartan duo stood next to the open hatch, and waited for Foehammer's signal: "Touchdown! Hit it, Marines!"

The Spartans were among the first to step off the ramp, their boots leaving deep impressions in the soft sand.

Matt paused for a quick look around, then started down-spin to the point where the aliens waited. No sooner had the last member of the landing party disembarked than the Pelicans were airborne once more—and flying up-spin.

Plasma fire stuttered down from the top of a rise as the Marines advanced up the sandy slope, careful to fire staggered bursts, so the entire group didn't wind up reloading at the same time. The Spartans ran forward, added their fire to the rest, and sent an Elite sprawling to the ground. The Covenant forces were outnumbered for once and the human attackers wasted little time cutting them down. The whole fight lasted only ten minutes.

Time to get moving. Matt reviewed the mission objectives as he surveyed the LZ: Find and secure a Covenant-held facility, some kind of map room—which the enemy had already captured.

The Covenant called the site "the Silent Cartographer"—which could presumably pinpoint the location of Halo's control room. Keyes had been very adamant about the urgency of the mission. "If the Covenant figure out how to turn Halo into a weapon, we're cooked."

Maybe with Cortana and Crystal's help, they had a good chance of figuring out where the hell the ring's control systems were housed. All they had to do is take it away from an entrenched enemy.

Matt heard a burst of static followed by Foehammer's cheerful voice as her Pelican swooped back into the LZ area. "Echo 419 inbound. Did someone order a Warthog?"

A Marine said, "I didn't know that you made house calls, Foehammer."
The pilot chuckled. "You know our motto: 'we deliver.'"

The Spartans waited for the dropship to deposit the LRV on the beach. The Chief jumped into the shotgun seat and Matt climbed up behind the wheel. The soldier manning the gun nodded. "Ready when you are, Commander."

Matt put his foot on the accelerator, sand shot out from under the vehicle's tires, and the 'Hog left parallel tracks as it raced along the edge of the beach.

They rounded the headland in minutes and entered the open area beyond. There was a scattering of trees, some weathered boulders, and a swath of green ground cover. "Firing!" the gunner called and pulled his trigger. The Commander saw Covenant troops scurry for cover, steered right to give the three-barreled weapon a better angle, and was soon rewarded with a batch of dead Grunts and a badly mangled Jackal.

Matt drove the Warthog uphill, turning to avoid obstacles, careful to maintain the vehicle's traction. It wasn't long before the humans neared the top of the slope and spotted the massive structure beyond. The top curved downward, cut dramatically in and gave way to a flat area where a Covenant dropship had been docked.

It appeared that the aircraft had just finished loading: It backed out of a U-shaped slot, swung out toward the ocean, and quickly disappeared. The noise generated by its engines covered the sound made by the Warthog and provided the defenders with something to look at.