A/N: This my first fic, and I'm making it a cross-over because I think an old soldier that drops from orbit to a planet's surface on a regular basis could help kick some serious fanatic ass. This is a Halo/Mass Effect cross-over, and I hope you like it. One more thing: the main characters are Rael'Reegar vas Serenity, Tali'Zorah vas Serenity, and Leonidas Grant of the UNSC Stalingrad.
Hunt or be hunted
Halo/mass effect x-over
Prologue
~Alpha-Centauri, 2554~
Sergeant Leonidas Grant of the UNSC Stalingrad stood beside the Stalingrad's captain, Yuri Kadrovski. Grant glanced at the Russian beside him, an eyebrow raised. He cleared his throat. "Hey, Captain, what are our orders?" Grant asked, resting his hand on the Magnum pistol strapped to his right thigh.
Kadrovski crossed his arms over his chest, puffing the pipe in his mouth as he watched the holo-map in the center of the bridge. "Orders are on a need-to-know basis, Sergeant," he said with his thick Russian accent. "Right now, you DON'T need to know." He took the pipe from his mouth. "That came straight from Command." He turned and walked toward a console a ways away, where the Stalingrad's XO, James Paulson, was typing furiously into the keyboard. "Mr. Paulson, how is your report coming?" he asked, patting the officer on the back.
"Soviet bastard…." Grant muttered as he turned and went to the elevator at the back of the room. He walked into the elevator, pressing the button for the cargo bay where the drop deck was located. The Spartan-IV took out a Cuban cigar and lit it, puffing it a few times. "Fuck him in the ass with a freaking Spartan's boot…" he growled as he took the cigar from his mouth. He walked out of the elevator as the doors opened, slipping the cigar back into his mouth. He spotted an old friend of his and grinned. "Sam!" he called, jogging over to the old ODST named Sam Melighah.
Sam turned at the sound of his name. "I'll be damned…" the veteran ODST muttered as he spotted Grant coming over. "If my eyes deceive me, then the great Leonidas Grant has come to give us one of his legendary speeches!" he yelled with a grin. He walked up to Grant and roughly embraced him. "How're you doin', buddy?" he asked, happy to see his oldest friend.
"Not too shabby," Grant said as his grin widened. He tapped the winged star on Sam's collar. "You're a Brigadier now, eh? You always did go more by the book than I ever did…" he chuckled. "That's why I'm still a damned Sergeant." He puffed his cigar again. "Anyway, I figured that Kadrovski told you our orders and came down to see what they were."
Sam thought for a moment then nodded. "Come to think of it, he DID tell me our orders, and mentioned not telling you…. Yep, the Russian bastard's really trying to get you out of the military." He glanced at Grant, who was waiting, surprisingly, patiently. "Command's gotten wind of remnants of the Covenant disappearing in the Alpha-Centauri system. So they asked the Arbiter to investigate. He asked for UNSC support, which is supposed to be us. Get it?"
"Yeah…" Grant took the cigar from his mouth and blew a smoke ring. "I wonder if Kadrovski is still pissed about not being accepted into the Spartan-IV program…" he thought out loud as he tapped some ash from the tip of his cigar. "That would explain why he's been extra bitchy to me…" He shrugged as he put the matter to the back of his mind. "Thanks for the intel, Sam." He gave a two-fingered salute to his old friend as he walked away.
Grant took a final puff and tossed his cigar on the ground, stepping on it and turning his toe left and right to put it out. He went to the armory and started to disassemble his personal assault rifle, cleaning every individual part and making a few modifications. When he was done, he grabbed a rag and wiped his hands clean as he walked back to the elevator. As he walked into the elevator, the whole ship shook violently. "What the fuck?!" he yelled as he rushed out of the elevator, looking around. Sam ran up to him.
"Grant, what the hell was that?" Sam asked as the two went to the armory to gear up. Grant shrugged as he sprinted to the back of the armory, where his Spartan armor was stored. Sam quickly got into his green and gray ODST armor while Grant had his red and black Warrior armor bolted on by mechanical arms. He grabbed his Aviator helmet with a black visor and slipped it on, grabbing his assault rifle as he caught up with Sam, who had a battle rifle.
"I'd say we just met up with the damned Covenant!" Grant yelled as the ship shook again, almost knocking the large Spartan-IV off his feet. "We need to get to the pods! Follow me!" he sprinted out of the armory toward the pod deck, Sam following as best he could. "Sam, go get your boys ready! I'll radio Kadrovski and see what the hell's going on!" Sam nodded and turned around, sprinting off in another direction. Grant activated the comm.-channel. "Captain," Grant hailed, holding a finger to the radio transmitter on the side of his helmet. "What the hell is going on?"
"What?" Kadrovski yelled, irritated. "Do you want a cup of coffee, or a nice cold beer? We have a fucking slip-space rupture going on, in case you haven't noticed!" the Russian captain continued to rant in his native tongue. Grant rolled his eyes at Kadrovski's temper.
"Kadrovski, what do you mean 'slip-space rupture'?" Grant cut off his captain, getting irritated himself. "Are we being pulled in? Is something coming out? What the fuck is going on, Captain?!" he roared, stopping in his tracks.
"We're being pulled in, and the ship can't take it!" Kadrovski yelled back, completely losing his temper. "Jenkins, FULL REVERSE NOW!" the Spartan-IV heard Kadrovski order as the ship shook again. Then Grant heard a loud grinding noise as he saw a crack form between his feet in the cargo bay floor. Grant sprinted to the nearest Pelican, climbing into its passenger bay. A few marines saw him and followed, along with a couple ODSTs. "Spartan," one of the ODSTs said, following Grant into the cockpit. Grant took the main controls, while the ODST took the co-pilot's seat.
"What the hell's happening, Spartan?" the ODST asked, looking up at Grant. "I don't know, but the ship's being torn apart," Grant replied, starting a pre-flight check. "Close the hatch, will ya?" The ODST nodded and flipped a switch, closing the Pelican's hatch. As it did, an ear-splitting groan of metal tearing from metal ripped through the commotion of the cargo bay. "This better be that prototype Pelican with the shields..." Grant muttered, looking over the controls. He gripped the controls, looking out into the cargo bay as the hull of the Stalingrad was ripped apart, revealing the Alpha-Centauri system with what looked like two fleets, one much larger and more powerful than the other. "What the hell...?" Grant muttered, raising an eyebrow at the sight.
"Spartan, hit the gas," the ODST said, his hand flying over the controls. "Does this hunk of junk have any weaponry?" He looked over the controls, looking for anything that might be weapon-like. Grant nodded, flying toward the bigger fleet. Shots from both fleets exploded around them, shaking the UNSC aircraft, but the shielding held. "We just might-SHIT!" Grant yelled as the left rear thruster was hit by a round from the bigger fleet. "Damn it, I can't keep her steady..." Grant called out to the ODST, but his words fell on deaf ears, since the man was slouched in his chair. A red light started flashing on the dashboard, and Grant bit back a curse as the Pelican started heading toward a ship with a circle for a bow. "Mayday, mayday," Grant called over the radio, trying to keep the Pelican aloft. "This Spartan-042, calling for immediate assistance!"
When he got nothing but static in response, Grant cursed strongly, hitting the controls. The Pelican went into a nose dive. Grant pulled hard at the controls, yelling as he did so. The Pelican slammed through the hull of the strange ship, sliding to a stop in a shower of sparks. Grant leaned back in his chair, his mind going into the blackness of unconsciousness
