Disclaimer: The characters used in this story do not belong to me. They are the property of Bungie and affiliated.

Genre: Action/Adventure

Rating: T

Author's Notes: The first in (hopefully) a series of poems inspired by Halo. Details a Marine's experience during the invasion of New Mombasa. Beta-read by Exilo.

Mombasa Ballad

The rose-red dawn was drawing near

It will creep over the ocean's distant banks

But for us, who hide and cower in fear

No joy could be found in our ranks.

The Sergeant was upstairs, busy tending

To Richard's leg seared by emerald fire

The marksman at the window, still unbending

Though a shaking hand meant he soon will tire.

The Covenant had been quiet; all through the night

They had made no raid on our position

Though our marksman with his keen sight

Oft carried a look of inquisition.

Six of us in the house, young Marines all

Waited with foreboding, for Earth to fall.

Suddenly, the marksman let out a great shout

"They're attacking! They're attacking!" he cried.

The brightness of his eyes left us without a doubt

We leaped for the corner where our rifles lied.

Quickly! Something crashed through the glass

Adorned with a long handle, a grenade in the flesh

And, like a sharp scythe cleaving through grass

Its spikes tore through our uniforms' mesh.

I held my rifle tightly, waiting for them to come

And come they did, through the front door

They were a new type of alien, no telling where from

Still, when shot, crimson blood met the floor.

I had killed the one in front, but when it fell

Two more stepped forward and made our lives hell.

The first grabbed Lee, the youngest, by the neck

The second pointed his bladed gun at myself

Marc punched the first, which felt nary a peck

And, with a fist, sent him crashing into a shelf.

By this time, the Sergeant had come down the stairs

He promptly sent some rounds into one's chest

And yet, even now, this cruel fight was unfair

For the alien roared and brawled and still looked its best.

I dodged my head and it was barely in time

Some kind of projectile flew over, hissing

And it was then I saw that wicked crime—

Lee's body fell with a thud; his head was missing.

The alien advanced on the Sergeant, eyes filled with strife

They both shot at the other, and so ended both lives.

The others were gone; only I was awake

I, alone, with the last enemy at the gate

My arms were steady; my legs began to shake

I did not want to be crouching when I met my fate.

So I stood up, gathering all my courage

And the alien watched me as if it understood

That despite our vastly differing heritage

I was dying proudly, as a soldier should.

It raised its weapon with barely a sound

I knew I could not raise mine half as fast

But, suddenly, the carbine fell to the ground

Its body followed, and it breathed its last.

In the doorway, backlit by the rising sun

Stood an Elite, and in its hand was a gun.

At the time I did not know; only later was I aware

Of the fact that the aliens have themselves a civil war

I only knew a new danger, one I had to beware

Thoughts of peace from my troubled mind lied yet far.

So I did not see how violently its right hand shook

I did not see the spike that impaled its arm

I could not see these things; I knew only to look

At the gaping maw that has done us so much harm.

You, my friend, I think that if you were there

In that dim room, watching the Elite sink to its knees

You would remember our dead, on worlds far and near

You, too, would remember our duty to Humanity.

And so, for the wrongs committed by its race

I put three bullets in my saviour's face.

Z. Pinto

2553

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