Fan Fiction Inspired by Halo

      The ship hastily retreated from the battlefield. The dead were piled into the freezers meant for just that and the wounded piled in sickbay. The fuel rods that hit only scratched the exterior hull, but due to a leak into some circuiting, the ship was cut off for extended life support, only having about two months of air to survive. It was grim, the ship was damaged, and most the marines dead, they may have escaped a small contingent of Covenant, but the looming presence of scouts and ship raids was fearful.
      The sergeant was in the galley, looking for some food to ease his nerves; he was looking at an auto-server near the entrance to the small cafeteria when he was startled by a marine.
      "Sergeant," the voice of Corporal Allen Hein, one of the few marines that made it out unscathed, "Where do we go now?" He seemed a little more cheery than any of the other marines, and apparently unscarred by the battle.
      "Hell if I know." He looked down in wonder a grief, "But I know we can't get far, I just had a talk with the pilot. He said life support was shafted; we have only forty some odd days until loss of air. We won't be able to get back to Earth in forty days, even if we did have life support we would be chased by Covenant, probably letting us lead them to Earth..." He groaned, then looked up at the you soldiers face, "How old are you..." he looked at Hein's name tag, "... Hein?"
      "Nineteen, sir." He straightened up, as to look older than he really was, but to the sergeant he just seemed like a four year old trying to look big...
      "Younger and younger," he sighed, "You shouldn't be here... you probably have a family at home, friends, probably a girl... or guy..." He laughed, looking up at Hein with the look on his face saying 'its only a joke', "Sorry, but you have your life ahead of you! Why are you wasting it here? Knowing that you may die, at any moment of any day; just being told what to do and when to do it, eh?"
      "That's it, sir, but I'm proud of what I am." He smiled, as if somehow he knew that all this will clear out in the end, all things will go back to peace, "And I believe that I can make a difference, and bring us at peace with the Covenant, and if not, blow them out of the universe." He smirked and grinned, looking satisfied with himself.
      "I hope to god you're right kid... no, I pray that you're right..." He smiled; looking more cheered than before, but interrupted by the intercom.
      The announcer's voice was solemn and seemed quiet, echoing through the ship, they reported what the Sergeant had just said to Hein; the life support had gone out, leaving only the back-up for forty days; the silence after his voice was disturbing and hollow...
      "But, we may have hope..." his voice was optimistic this time, the marines excitement could be felt, from the rooms to the café, from the galley to the cabin, a sense of curiosity filled the air, "A planetoid is spotted quite a ways off, scans have shown a sign of an oxygen-based atmosphere inhabitable to us humans. If our life support can hold it, we can make it there, but the time to get there will be slightly under expected life-support time period; so people, take shallow breaths, we're gonna need all the air we can get; we're gonna make it for this rock, we'll keep you updated on the ship status and time period... I'll be back on in an hour or so, god bless." *Click* the intercom turned off, and hope once again filled the air.

      "I'll be d***ed," The sergeant was back in the cafeteria, where he and Hein had sat down to some beef and potatoes, "We might last longer than we thought, maybe even get home." He took a bit of the beef on his plate, it was hot, enough to burn his mouth, but after the previous events, he couldn't care about a little bit of heat.
      "Heh," Hein hadn't eaten any of his meat, only digging in the mashed potatoes on the side, no gravy, which made him a bit disappointed, but it was still filling, "I'd bet we'll do fine, fate intervened and we happened to stumbled across this grain of sand in the cosmic beach known as the universe."
      "D*** boy, that's either incredibly cheesy or the biggest d*** cliché I've ever heard." The sergeant smirked, holding the plastic fork that came with the small tray, picking up another piece of the dark beef that loomed on the plate. "You really need to work on that; and eat some meat! This stuff will keep ya in good shape."
      Hein cut a piece of the meet and picked it up with the fork, he looked at it, inspecting it and pondering over whether to eat it or not... "I never trusted this stuff..." he put it in his mouth and chewed, the long gulp signified the swallow... and by the look on his face, it wasn't appetizing at all, "S***! That tastes like... s***!" He wiped his mouth and took a draw of water from a glass near his plate. "My god! You eat this stuff?"
      "For fifteen years, nothing but." The sergeant laughed, finishing off his plate and getting up, "Well, eat up, it's not that after a while." He walked off into the back cabin, where marines go to just lounge.
      Hein finished his plate, it was unappetizing but still filling, and followed the sergeant, going into the area to see a group of marines talking to each other and looking a hell of a lot more cheered up than a few hours ago.
      "Well, Al!" A marine was talking to Hein, he had a big cigar in his mouth, he was smiling behind it; it was a friend of his, Private Andy Evan, "I see you're back from your rendezvous with the Sarge!" He laughed and moved over to let Hein sit beside him. "Take a seat, we're just having a smoke for fun!"
      "Those things will kill you, Andy." Hein sat down, taking the cigar of Evan's mouth, "Mind if I have a puff?" He grinned, taking a long draw from the cigar.
      "I guess me saying 'no' isn't gonna stop you..." He laughed taking back the cigar and passing it to a different marine, "We don't have many, Al."
      "I heard they packed a s*** load of those things, as well as alcohol for those 'victory parties.'" His face was more tranquil, and he felt a bit more at ease.
      "Not these, they're Cubans... Miguel brought 'em, a court-marshal can't hurt him now, eh?" He grinned, looking up at a marine with tanned skin, it was Miguel Sanchez, a Cuban exile's great great grandson. "D*** fine ones too!"
      The cigar was grabbed out of a marine's mouth by the Sergeant, "D*** it boys! Who do you think you are, taking this contraband on board? I'm just gonna have to take this and smoke it myself!" He laughed taking a long draw from the cigar and blowing out the smoke into the marines face. "Now, no more wasting supplies. And no more smoking! We need all the air we can get, so no smoking, no fires, nothings that will consume oxygen other than us!" He snuffed out the cigar on the titanium wall and put it in his shirt pocket. He walked off into the front cabin, looking behind before he entered the door, and then just went in.

      The marines continued to talk for quite some hours, their voices were heard by the technicians trying to repair the life support, as well as the crew up in the front, flying the Daybreak through the vast expanse of universe between them and the planetoid that will save them and hold sanctuary for the human race.

      It was long before the reach of this planet when they found more troubles to deal with... An infestation in the lower cargo was starting, some sort of parasite, about the size of a basketball and looked like the stomach of a cow inside out, was rummaging about. No marine or technician seen any, until one came into one of the bunkrooms during sleeping hours.
      The creature got into the room via ventilation shafts in the flooring; it crawled up a metal floor grate and into the room, it scuttled through, crawling up to the top of a bunk in the room, in the bed was a marine, older than the others, maybe thirty or so. The bug crawled onto his face, and slowly found a new host body...
      The screams from the marine were muffled but still loud enough to wake the others. There were four other marines in the room, each one rushed to the soldier with the bug on his face.
      "Get it off!!" the scream of the marine could hardly be heard through the creature, the squirms of the bug were loud though. "Get this f***ing thing off!!!"
      "D*** it!" a marine was trying to pry it off, it seemed to be attached tightly, and they feared they might kill the marine who was under it. "What the hell do we do?"
      "Shoot it!" the marine was trying to grasp it, his life was slipping, the soldiers hurried up, hastening their pace.
      "Yeah! Get me a gun! NOW!" The marine extended his hand as if demanding someone put a gun in it.
      "Here!" a pistol was given to the soldier prying the bug.
      BANG!! He shot it off, it feel, but the marines still pushed it off the victim's body.
      "Is he alive?" the voice of one of the soldiers was heard over the commotion.
      "I dunno." The solider aiding the victim checked his vitals, they were slipping, his breathing was slowing and he could tell he wouldn't last. "D*** it! Get a medic! He needs help now! I'll do CPR." he bended over the host and started mouth-to-mouth resuscitating him as best he can.
      A medic shoed up in a few moments, the marine stepped back to let him go to work. He looked at him and checked him for any signs of weakness. "What happened?"
      The soldier who was aiding replied stuttering, "I dunno. This bug thing attached to his head and like sucked his brains out or something!" He picked up the bug and showed it to the medic. He muttered to himself 'Jesus Christ!'
      "Well, he'll live, and his brains are in tact. I'll take this to the lab to run tests," he looked to another marine and addressed him, "You, go get a bag or something to put this thing in." He then turned to the marine aiding him, "Help me get him to sickbay."

      It was nearly six hours until the marine woke up, the physician was there to ask him his questions. "Well, you're awake now... I'm Dr. Demmy, I'm going to ask you some questions, Ok?"
      The marine smirked, weakly, then nodded.
      "Good. Lets start with your name and rank." He got a binder from beside him and wrote some things down on a piece of paper.
      "Privet James Anderson, UN Marine Corps." His voice was scratchy and tired, the doctor handed him a glass of water and told him to drink, and he did so and thanked the doctor.
      "Now," the doctor seemed to be writing things down as they conversed, "Your age?"
      "Thirty-two." His voice was lest dry thanks to the water."
      "How about what you remember from last night?"
      Anderson gulped, he started slowly and a little confused, "I - I was sleeping, then this thing just grasped onto my face and lowered a tube or something down my throat... It was weird as hell, I remember yelling to the guys, and them yelling back... And the shot into the thing... But the last thing I remember was Kevin kissing me..." He made a look on h is face of disgust.
      The doctor laughed. "He was giving you CPR, you almost died. He saved your life." He smirked, "Now, I'm going to show you a picture of what we found attached to you."
      He clipped the photo of the little creature and showed it to Anderson. "Look familiar?"
      He shook his head, "No doubt that's the thing, though." He took the picture, he couldn't reach his hand out far because of the IV in his arm. "Lemme see it."
      The doctor gave the picture to him, "We examined and couldn't find out much. It's obviously parasitic, we figure that because of its encounter with you. We don't know why it does this, it seems to be fine to hunt and kill on its own. If you look closely, at this picture right here..." he pointed to one of the other photos on the sheet, it was a picture of its underbelly, "...you can see the legs, jointed multiple times for speed and quick reflex. The mouth is here too," he pointed to a small oraphis rowed with small teeth-like protrusions. "It must've either adapted to being a parasite or somehow 'made' to be a parasite. Still we don't know its purpose."
      Anderson looked up to the doctor with a look of worry in his face, "What about others? You searched for more of those things?" He sat up, looking the doctor in the eye.
      "Yes, there are three groups of two searching each of the cargo holds, the marines were also alerted and are on the look out for them, and there are cameras running through the vents; if there are any more we'll find them."
      "Good, those things ain't right, man, ain't right." He laid back down, "I wan to sleep, Ok doc?" He was staring at the ceiling waiting for the doctor to tell him its ok.
      "Go ahead, we'll have someone keep an eye on you tonight. Tomorrow you should be ready to get back up and about." He stood up and shook Anderson's hand and told him he'd be back in six hours to check up on him.
      "What if I need you before then?" Anderson looked up to the doctor as he was leaving.
      "My assistant will be in here, his name is Geoffrey, tell him you want me and he'll send for me. Now get some sleep, I'll wake you when I come back." He then walked off out sickbay door.
      He loomed into sleep and fell into a deep slumber, sadly, he never woke from that sleep... the infection from the parasite had somehow poisoned him... killing him in serenity, he didn't experience pain nor suffer... he went peacefully.

      The assistant didn't know if Anderson was dead or not, he thought he was merely sleeping and just continued his duties for the six hours he was told to stay there. It wasn't until the six hours were up when Dr. Demmy arrived to check up on Anderson when they found out he was dead...

      They decided it best to start the funerals now, it was sad, even the hardest marines were sobbing in sorrow and grief. Sergeant Mayn told the sermon:

"We are here today, not to feel grief for these valiant men, but to feel proud and to honor their bravery and their loss. We know they didn't die in vain, they served their nations and did what they were told to do.

"Though the deaths are a setback in our minds, we need not worry about them, they are inevitably in a better place. Whether they were Christian, Jewish, Hindu, or whatever, they can't be in a place worse than this hell that we know as life.

"It is hard for me to tell you about all the men that have fallen these past days, I may have been their sergeant and their leader, but I rarely got to know any of them... I am also not good with words and speeches, so forgive me if I seem vague and unsophisticated.

"Now all we have to do is bring them back to their families, to reunite them with their loved ones and help them coup with reality and to ease their emotions.

"My sense of emotion has been wiped away over the many years of service for the UN Marine Corps. But these men and women were young, too young to be here fighting a war they couldn't win. But it was the hope that kept them going. The hope that they, as soldiers, would be able to make a change, for their friends and family as well as their enemies, to bring peace to the ones who are ravaged with war... I know that was their wish, their purpose to be in the UN Marine Corps."

The Sergeant's sermon was filled with despair, but somehow it brought hope to the survivors, letting them know that even though the mass of soldiers have been slain that they will continue and never give-up on what they were meant to do.
Nearly 150 men were cremated that day, their ashes stored in bags, separated, labeled, and resting neatly in cargo bay loft, waiting to greet their grieving family...