AN: I do not own halo nor Transformers, only my OC.
Before we begin the first chapter of my story, I would like to inform you that this story is a re-write of the formerly known "Parallel Differences", hence as to why it shares the same name. Over time I became dissatisfied with my story and decided to start it over from scratch as there was far too much for me to go back and edit, spell-check, etc.
This story will follow under the same premise as it's predecessor with some added changes and it will follow strict accuracy to the Transformers movies with added stuff invloving the UNSC coming later. It's going to be a lot of work to accumulate fifty-two chapters again, but I'm sure I'll get there eventually and they will be much better quality.
Now, for those of you who are new readers of my story and not previous one's whom have followed over, I will be going into detail as to how my OC is related to the Halo universe in the next chapter's author's notes.
If you're still reading this, thanks for sticking around and I hope you enjoy what you read.
(EDIT: pretty much all chapters are under revision/being re-written at the moment so if you find any chapters that look different from the rest further in, I most likely haven't gotten to them yet. Read at your own discretion.)
Before time began, there was the cube.
We know not where it comes from, only that it holds the power to create worlds and fill them with life.
That is how our race was born.
For a time, we lived in harmony.
But like all great power, some wanted it for good, others for evil.
And so began the war.
A war that ravaged our planet until it was consumed by death and the cube was lost to the far reaches of space.
We scattered across the galaxy, hoping to find it and rebuild our home.
Searching every star, every world.
And just when all hope seemed lost, message of a new discovery drew us to an unknown planet called 'Earth".
"Okay, Mr. Witwicky. You're up."
The chestnut-haired boy was shaken from his thoughts by Mr. Hosney's words. He visibly perked up, standing from his desk with haste as he quickly grabbed his backpack from off the back of his chair and rushed to the front of the class, stopping in front of the podium that resided there. It was finally his turn.
Sam lifted his backpack onto the desk, un-zipping it before picking it up and turning it upside down, emptying it's contents onto the wooden podium with anxiety and a lack of caution as his classmates stared at him.
He looked up from the items before him, speaking up to the group with an audible tone of nervousness as he tried to prevent his many items from falling off the edges of the podium. "Sorry...I've got a lot of stuff."
"Ok, so" He said, awkwardly laughing off his anxiety. "for my family genea-"
Just as soon as Sam had begun with his report, he was interuppted by what he recognized to be a lone rubber band hitting him directly in the center of his chest, causing the entirety of the classrom to erupt in laughter as a response.
He slowly scanned the room with his eyes, looking to all of his classmates to find the one responsible. They landed on a blonde-headed male, the boy smirking to him with his childhood crush, Mikaela, held close at his side. His expression immediately shifted to one of annoyance. Of course it had been Trent. The boy had been a constant thorn in his side, using every opportunity he had to bully him in some fashion and it seemed that Mr. Hosney shared in his annoyance, as well.
The older man stood from his desk behind Sam, pointing to the entirety of the class as he began to reprimand them. "Who did...Who did that? People! Responsibility."
Once the class had composed themselves, Mr. Hosney returned to his seat, turning to look at Sam before nodding to him; the physical indication for him to continue on with his report.
"Okay...So, for my family genealogy report." He said. "I decided to do it on my great-great-grandfather, who was a famous man. Captain Archibald Witwicky. Very famous man. In fact, he was one of the first to explore the Arctic Circle."
He paused, grabbing a piece of paper, a map, from off the table before him and un-rolling it to show to the class. "Which is a big deal. In 1987, he took fourty-one brave soldiers into the Arctic Shelf. So that's the story, right?"
He placed the map back on the table, gesturing with both hands to the many items he'd haphazardy poured onto desk only moments ago. "And here, we have some of the basic instruments and tools used by nineteenth century seamen."
A cacophony of low-toned, immature laughter emerged in response to his choice of words causing Sam to roll his eyes in annoyance. In response to this, Mr. Hosney held up a red sign, the word "stop" printed on it's surface in bold, white letters. The laughter subsided immediately.
Sam ignored the embarrassing situation in favor of picking up a piece of nautical equipment, holding it up in the air with his right hand. "This here is the quadrant, which you can get for eighty bucks...It's all for sale, by the way."
He paused momentarily, placing the item back on the table before gesturing to another with his hand. "Like the, uh, sextant here."
Sam had presumed that his words would once again cause snickering laughter and he'd been correct, much to his displeasure. He dropped his arms to his sides in defeat as Mr. Hosney raised his sign once again. This was getting old quickly.
Once the room was completely silent and he was sure that he would receive no further interruptions, Sam reached out for an old, cracked pair of spectacles. They were worn with age and abrasion, clearly having struggled to stand up to the tests of time.
"And these...these are my grandfather's glasses. I haven't quiet gotten them appraised yet, but they've seen many cool things." He said with sentimentality.
Though going un-seen by him, Mr. Hosney had rolled his eyes at they boy, speaking up to him with an audible tone disbelief. "Are you going to sell me his liver? Mr. Witwicky, this isn't show and sell. It's the eleventh grade. I don't think your grandfather would be particularly proud of what you're doing."
Sam flooded with shame upon hearing the man's words. He didn't want to sell grandfather's possessions given the sheer amount of history and nostalgia behind them, but he needed all the money he could get right now. "I know, I'm sorry...I just, you know, this all going towards my car fund...You can tell your folks. It's on eBay. Cold hard cash works, too. And the compass makes a great gift for Colombus day."
Mr. Hosney once again began to reprimand Sam for his shameless attempts to sell his grandfather's things in the classroom. The boy turned to him, giving him another shame-filled apology before turning his attention back to the class.
The chestnut-haired boy proceeded to grab an ancient, worn-looking newspaper article from the desk along with a paper sporting strange symbols, equally just as worn. "My great-great-grandfather, being the genius that he was, wound up going crazy in a psych ward, drawing these strange symbols while babbling on about some, uh, giant "ice-man" that he thought he'd discovered."
The sound of a ringing bell suddenly resounded throughout the school, a signal to everyone within it that the day was over. The class collectively began to gather their things, wasting no time in making a hasty dash towards the classroom door.
As his peer's passed by him, Sam began to plead with them in a last ditch effort at getting them to buy his grandfather's things. He was all but ignored, left to stand there in silence until Mr. Hosney spoke up, directing Sam's attention to the older man.
He walked over to his desk, coming to stand in front of it with a prideful stance and a smile; his voice taking on this same emotion. "Okay...Pretty good, right?"
Mr. Hosney answered Sam's question bluntly. "Uh...I'd say a solid B-minus."
Sam's expression fell, arms dropping to his sides in disbelief. "...A B-minus?"
Mr. Hosney nodded to Sam in affirmation, responding to his tone of disbelief with seriousness. "You were trying to sell your great grandfather's crap in my classroom."
Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. No...he couldn't be given a B-minus. He couldn't afford to be. Not when his dream was so close, just within reach of his fingertips. He held up his hands, beginning to argue with the man. "No kids enjoy-"
He paused, leaning onto Mr. Hosney's desk before pointing out of the window beside him with his left hand. "Look, can you do me a favor? Can you look at the window for a second?"
His teacher slowly directed his attention towards the window with one eyebrow raised, obviously confused. Once Sam was sure that he had his teacher's un-divided attention, he began to speak, all the while pointing to a car that was parked just outside on the curb; a portly man seated inside with a petite female clad in all black at his side conversing with him.
"That green car right there?" Sam said. "That's my father and my best friend. Okay?...I want to tell you about a dream. A boy's dream. And a man's promise to that boy. He looked me in the eye and said: Son, I'm going to buy you a car. But I want you to bring me two-thousand dollars and three A's. I've got the two-thousand dollars and I've got two A's."
Sam stood up from his slouched position, placing his hands together with the tips of his fingers just barely touching each other. "Here's the dream. Your B-minus?"
He pulled his hands apart from each other, both of them now a short distance apart. "Poof...Dream gone and a lifetime of embarrassment from my friend."
With no other options, Sam attempted to appeal to Mr. Hosney's sense of morality. He dropped his arms to his sides, not able to believe what he was about to say. He could only pray silently to himself and whatever God might be listening to him that day that it wouldn't fail.
"Sir, just ask yourself...what would Jesus do?"
It seemed this was enough to convince the man. He sighed, grabbing Sam's report card and marking it off with an "A-" in red pen before handing it to the boy. He practically snatched the paper from the man's hands, turning around to the wooden desk behind him and picking up his backpack. He frantically began to shove the items he'd brought into the fabric sack before turning around and darting out of the room.
He weaved through the people crowding the halls as he ran, slinging each door he came across open with reckless abandon until he was outside where he darted across the campus grounds towards his father and friend with un-bridled excitement, shouting happily the entire way until he was at the green vehicle's side.
He slung the passenger side door open and sat down roughly in the seat much to the suprise of the pair near him, his father now looking to his right at him. "So?"
The female at his father's side looked to him as well, a large, mischeivous smile gracing her face. "Yeah, Sam. How'd you do?" She asked. "You didn't lose your composure in front of Mikaela, did you?"
The woman's taunting comments earned her a half-lidded glare from her friend, the boy responding to her with thick sarcasm. "Ha, ha, ha...Very funny, Stormy. For your information, I got an A-minus. It's still an A, though."
Sam proudly shoved the report card into his father's face much to closely, the proof of his success and his ticket to freedom. He took it from his son's hands, pulling it far enough away from his face for him to read. He roamed over it with eyes, inspecting it throughly as Storm leaned over to do the same. Her friend had told the truth. Sam had gotten an A-minus.
She leaned up from her spot, speaking to him with a clearly exaggerated tone of surprise as she smirked. "Wow. You actually did it, Samantha...Color me impressed."
The boy sighed heavily in response to the woman's comments, rolling his eyes at her annoyance. He was very obviously tired of her teasing. Storm, however, was entertained by it; laughing the entire way as she walked around Ron's car and climbed into the backseat.
Sam ignored the woman and her cackling laughter as he turned to his father, speaking up to him with the question he was desperate to hear the answer to. "So I'm good?"
His father nodded to him in affirmation. "Yeah, you're good."
I know, it's a short chapter.
However, I wanted to keep it short seeing as how this is only the first chapter and I want to try and space them out better than I did during my first attempt at this story.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and thank you for taking the time to read it.
