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 64: Admiral Whitcomb
Location: Epsilon Eridani system, Aboard captured Covenant dropship, en route to surface of Reach
Date:Time Record Anomaly
Estimated Date: September 23, 2552
Estimated Time: 0530 hours
Matt stood on the deck of the Covenant dropship. He stood because the crash seats had been designed for Elites and Jackals and none of the contours fit their human backbones. It didn't matter—he preferred to stand.
They drifted through the upper atmosphere of Reach, descending like a spider on a thousand-kilometer thread of silk. They passed close to a hundred other ships moving in orbital arcs—Seraph fighters, other dropships, scavenger craft with grappling tentacles that dragged sections of salvaged metal. Dominating the skies were a pair of three-hundred-meter-long cruisers.
The cruisers accelerated toward them.
Matt moved up to the cockpit with John right behind him where Polaski and Haverson sat in the seats they had removed from the Pelican and welded in place.
"They're pinging us," Polaski whispered.
"Nice and easy, Warrant Officer," Lieutenant Haverson whispered. "Just use the programmed response Cortana gave us."
"Aye aye, Lieutenant," Polaski replied and concentrated on the Covenant scripts that scrolled across the display on her left. "Sending now." She tapped a holographic icon.
Sergeant Johnson and Corporal Locklear stood two meters behind the Spartans, both of them nervous. Johnson chewed his stub of a cigar and scowled at the incoming Covenant warships. Locklear's trigger finger twitched, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.
"Cortana has this stuff wired tight,"
Sergeant Johnson whispered. "No worries."
"I got plenty of worries here," Locklear muttered. "Man, I'd rather be in an HEV pod on fire and out of control than up here. We're sitting ducks."
"Quiet," Lieutenant Haverson hissed at Locklear. "Let the lady concentrate."
Polaski kept one eye on the communications screen and one eye on the external displays as the twin cruisers grew larger, filling the holographic space before her. Both her hands hovered over the flight yoke, not touching it, but twitching in anticipation.
Three Seraph fighters burned out of their orbits and took a closer pass.
"Is that an attack vector?" Lieutenant Haverson asked.
"I don't think so," Polaski said. "But it's hard to tell with those things."
Locklear inhaled deeply, and Matt noticed that he didn't exhale. He set his hand on the man's shoulder and pulled him aside. "Relax, Marine," he whispered. "That's an order,"
Locklear exhaled and ran a hand over his smoothly shaven head. "Right... right, Commander." With effort, the Marine forced himself to calm down.
A red light flashed on the control panel. "Collision warning," Polaski said with the practiced nonchalance all Navy pilots had in the face of imminent death. She reached for the yoke.
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Matt-038 (Halo Fanfiction)
FanfictionSpartans never die... They're just missing in action. These are the infamous words said about Spartan II supersoldiers. The Spartans are the last hope to stop the alien race known as the Covenant from wiping out the entire human race. This is the st...
