SLAYER
The HALO Chronicles

PART I: HEADLONG HARBOR

Chapter 1

1st Lieutenant Alex Jefferson of the United Nations Space Command, partaker of the SPARTAN II Program stood clad in MJOLNIR Mark VI Armor on the top of a tall building, an astounding concrete pillar, and stared at his surrounding environment. The baking sun reflected off of his bright orange visor, making a brilliant flash of color. His new armor, a brilliant crimson-red, shined just as beautifully. The ocean splashed against the concrete harbor walls, surprisingly soothing to the ears. Off in the distance, the New Mombasa Space Elevator towered, a giant metal spear to the eyes, ascending into the heavens.
Headlong Harbor was the most undesirable place that a UNSC soldier could be placed. There was virtually nothing a free spirit could even want to do. All Jefferson ever stared at were boats coming and going through the bustling industrial haven. The sky was so smoggy from all of the factories located from place to place around the inland beach area, that the sun was nearly blotted out from the sky, and what was once a radiant, glowing, white-hot, vision-piercing orb was now a tiny orange ball that barely shed sufficient light to make the area a little nicer to the eyes. Alas, to Jefferson and his squad's. But there had been reports of Covenant sightings in the area, so Jefferson and his two squad-mates had been sent there to eliminate them if they were ever sighted again. Jefferson was as miserable as he could ever be. He hadn't seen action in months.
Sighing, he walked down a ramp and off of the roof of the building. As he reached the ground floor, he was greeted with a scream from his squad-mate, Charles "Cookie" McPeterson, which made Jefferson cringe. Cookie, a tall, strong soldier from the south clad in sage green MJOLNIR Mark VI Armor (Like Jefferson), was the only soldier in Jefferson's three man squad who could cook a decent meal, and who was also Jefferson's second in command.
"Christ, Cookie! I told you not to do that anymore!"
"Hey, I only wanted a little laugh," Cookie said in his monotonous southern accent. "And don't you dare say the lord's name in vain!"
"For the record, Jesus Christ isn't my 'Lord.' I have no lord. I'm an atheist. I don't believe in that religious crap. Those really religious folks really creep me out, and bug me, quite frankly."
"Well, he's my lord. And I don't like you calling my religion 'crap.'"
"Excuse me, soldier?" Jefferson said, getting a little irritated. "I don't like that tone of yours."
"Um, sorry, sir. I won't do it again."
"Good. Now I need you to clean the new warthog for me."
"What new warthog?"
"The one we received last week."
"Oh... that new warthog. See, about that. I was taking a test drive in it, and... I sort of... drove it off into the bay."
"You what!? Drove it into the bay? What the hell were you thinking? And how the hell were you able to survive without drowning in that heavy armor!?"
"I obviously jumped from it just before it hit the water! I'm not that stupid as to stay in the thing and wait for my imminent doom!"
"When did I even give you the clearance to test drive it? That's for me to do and me alone. Besides, your driving skills rank below poor. It seems really that the only thing you can do is just cook... and shoot into blank space."
"Well, it's not like I meant to drive off into the water."
"Alright! You've made your point. No, I don't think you're stupid, but sometimes, I wonder. Anyway, I'm just gonna have to order another warthog. I want you to go get Jameson for me so he can fix..."
"Sir, Jameson's dead."
"He is!?"
"Don't you remember? He got rabies and we had to shoot him to put him out of his misery. And then we ate him."
"WE DID!?"
"Nah, just kidding. We fed him to the dogs."
"Dogs?"
"Yeah. We fed him to the same dogs that gave him the rabies, but then we figured they gave him rabies, and they might get rabies again since they ate an infected body, so we shot them, too. We ate them, though."
"Oh yeah! Those were pretty good."
"Yeah, a bit tough I guess, but if you stew them long enough and put 'em with some good spices and sauces, man are they good."
"Too bad the cat got blown to bits before we could try it." Jefferson sighed.
"Why was it blown to bits?"
"It was crapping in my ammo box."
"Boy, only if I could've seen that..."
"What was that?" Jefferson demanded an explanation.
"Oh! Nothing!"
"I grow tired of this pointless conversation. I'm gonna go see the Doc. See you later."
Cookie went off, and Jefferson entered the main base building where the squad's medic, Andy Richards was working. Andy was more referred to as "the Doc" or just "Doc." He was a medium-tall muscular, yet skinny guy from California and a total geek to boot. He was clad in Silver-Black MJOLNIR Armor. He was mixing some chemicals when Jefferson burst in.
"Hey, Doc. Can I ask you to..."
"I told you not to just barge into my work station like that! This has probably been the 19th time, according to my calculations."
"Hey, sorry! The door was just open! Y'know, you could at least make a door, or leave a "do not disturb" sign, or something-"
"Well, what was it that you wanted? Were you going to use my equipment to make moonshine, or what?"
"I told you, I don't drink alcohol anymore. Well, at least not while on duty. You should've seen me at Cortana's Christmas Eve party. Boy, I was all over her like a rabid-"
"What is it!? I don't have time for your babble, Jefferson! And why would I want to know about your sexual fantasies. She's a friggin' hologram for Pete's sake..."
"I just need you to check my order records for the two new soldiers and the weapons. Can you add an order for a gauss warthog as well? I like the rockets. Cookie drove the new LRV into the bay."
"Man, that idiot's always up to trouble. I don't know why you put him as second in command instead of me-"
"Are you questioning my decisions?"
"No, sir, not at all. So let's get this straight. You want a shotgun, 2 rocket launchers, a sniper rifle with 27 spare clips, a gauss warthog, a scorpion tank, 6 SMGs, 14 magnums, 4 new recruits, and a long sword fighter. Would you like some fries with that?
"I have no desire for your dry humor, Doc. And how the hell did you memorize all that without looking at the checklist?
"I wrote it all over the walls right behind you. It's amazing what you can do with just five minutes and 2 sharpie pens. Now, if you're finished, I would like it if you would leave me in peace."

MEANWHILE, in an abandoned sky scraper...

A ten-foot-tall Sangheili clad in blue armor stood, looking down at the Spartans, pondering what they could be bickering about. The red Spartan went into a tall building, and the one clad in green went to the roof of the building where the red one had originally been standing on. He stepped back, and approached the two other Elites who were talking in their alien tongue.
"Blarg Wort wort blarg! Wort wort wort wort wort wort!"
"Blar Blarg blarg blarg..." Oh, wait. Let me translate in English for you...

"You idiots! Quiet! I am trying to conduct a plan on how to destroy the humans," It said. There, that's better!
"But sir," another cut in, "all of your plans ALWAYS fail. And every time you say a new plan will be better than the last, it's only worse," He pointed out.
"I don't care! I am the commander of this base!" The first Elite said.
"Well, technically, you're not. The commander WAS the commander, but since he's dead, you think you can just assume that you're the official leader of our group. I say we should vote for our commander," The other one suggested.
"Look, we're in the middle of a war here and I don't think an election is going to solve anything."
"What we should do," yet another barged in, "is hold a competition to the death. It'll be like a tournament. Whoever wins is the new commander."
"Yeah, but I don't think you've checked your loophole there. The there won't be anyone to command the base!"
"Oh..."
"Well it doesn't matter. I joined the army first; therefore I have seniority over you all.
"You have 2 hours of seniority. And 30 minutes of that seniority was spent spraying Grunt methane into the commanders' suit.
Another elite, a female, cut in. "Why do I not have a say in this matter?"
"Because you are a female, and females are breeders. You are lucky you were even accepted into the Covenant military."
"You sexist!"
"Alright! We'll hold an election. Now, let's vote."
"No! We can't vote yet. We have to set up all of the stuff! Like laws, bill of rights, the name for our country..."
"We're trying to destroy a world, not start one!"
"Quiet now! We're starting our personal voting campaigns!"
"By the gods, your parents must have been shot in the head before you were born. I see no sense in what you're doi-"
"SHUT UP!"