HALO: HELLJUMPER
By M. Cartwright
A/N: So, this is it. After several years of hiatus, ideas that never fell through, muse coming and going, I've finally returned with a fiery vengeance to stir the order of things here on FanFiction…
Well, not exactly. I've been wanting to do this for a long time and I never really got around to it. Occasionally I'd entertain the idea and write a rough draft only to find myself unsatisfied with what I had. But now it seems that those tables have turned and I'm finally re-writing Helljumper—the breakout story that had been years in the making (in terms of writing a story and finishing it). I assure you that I plan to see this out to the end; I'm in it for the long haul. To anyone who read the original, I hope that you will equally enjoy the re-write and let me know what you think.
To those of you who're new to all of this: be prepared for a thrill ride. I plan to slowly build up to the action in the next few chapters—so don't be disappointed that there isn't anything going on at the moment. Your thirst for war and violence will be aptly satisfied soon. I am also writing this to let everyone know I am returning to my original pen name (post-JEDIKNIGHT32) "Sgt Cartwright" and will not only be writing in the Halo category, but in a multitude of others as well. Though, my main focus and love will always be the Halo Universe.
Anywho, without further ado, I proudly present to you the fruition of my labors: Helljumper. The re-write. Special thanks to Obsidian Thirteen/Productions for assisting me in the editing of this story. The help was really appreciated.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own rights to Halo nor am I in any way affiliated with Bungie Studios, Microsoft, or 343 Industries. All characters whom are not OCs belong to the aforementioned parties above. All OCs, however, are mine and the plot of this story belongs to me as well.
SECTION I: PEARL CITY
CHAPTER I: A NIGHT IN TOWN
2346 Hours Local Time, July 5th, 2550 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \
Shore Drive, Oceanfront, Pearl City Seaside District,
Crystal, Umbra System
It was a normal Friday night, just like any other.
The streets of the Seaside District were filled with traffic and pedestrians. Nightclubs were bustling with life; music blasting so loud that people several blocks away could still faintly hear the pounding of the bass. Hotels found themselves booked to capacity as tourists would come and go, stores packed with eager customers, all typical of a Friday night in Pearl City. Besides the artificial light stemming from the city, Crystal's twin moons shimmered across the ocean and revealed yet another cloudless night.
Crystal was one of only two habitable planets in the Umbra star system and the only one to be colonized. It had been chosen for its Earth-like atmosphere and mostly tropical climate. Few parts of the planet experienced temperatures under sixty degrees Fahrenheit and those that did were for the most part left remote and untouched by civilization. The majority of the planet's population had settled along the equatorial regions of the main continent—thus spawning the sprawling megatropolis that was Pearl City. Over three million people called the eighty-six mile long city their home.
But apart from its pleasing climate and aesthetic beauty, initial scans of the planet's surface had detected a plethora of raw materials. Around the time that the first settlement was built, a vast number of mining and shipping companies set up shop planet-side to begin harvesting its resources. Thus, Crystal had quickly become a major exporter of valuable resources—including raw materials used to construct starships—and within a few years had become one of the UEG's most prosperous colonies.
In the modern day and age not only was Crystal a major tourist attraction for those who could afford it, but also somewhere the UNSC sent their troops after spending too much time on deployment—a place where soldiers could relax and enjoy some R&R before being sent back out to the frontlines. Thus the reason why Staff Sergeant Ward and his crack ODSTs found themselves cruising down the streets of Pearl City in a car he'd rented earlier that day. After nearly a year of moving from planet-to-planet, combating both the Covenant and local insurrections, the crew aboard the UNSC carrier Big Ben (his unit included) had finally been granted a brief two-week shore leave to relax and forget about the war.
"Let's check out that club over there."
Ward cast a look to the right up ahead. He spotted a building with a rather large crowd of people standing outside its doors awaiting entry. Casting an eerie glow upon the dimly lit parking lot situated over the entrance were a pair of moons, side-by-side, with the name "Moonight" underneath them in cursive. He shrugged and turned the wheel, pulling into the parking lot and stopping the car in the only open space he could find. He cut off the engine and looked to the other occupants of the car.
The man who had suggested stopping at this particular nightclub out of the dozens that lined the oceanfront sat next to him. Corporal Martin Thomas, his best friend since Helljumper School and the second-in-command of Charlie Six. Apart from having known him for a couple years, he had come to learn that the corporal was handy with electronics. His official position within the squad was that of its technician and so far he had yet to not amaze the staff sergeant with his talents. If he ever needed a lock bypassed, computer hacked, or a piece of equipment fixed he knew who to call.
Pushing that thought to the back of his mind he glanced back at the remaining occupants of the car, PFCs Colin MacDoyle and Tyler Owen, and Lance Corporal Jacob Wilson. They remained quiet but could tell they were all excited. Wilson hid it better than the two sitting on either side of him; however, the glint in his eyes betrayed his blank expression. Ward felt a grin crease across his face before he opened the driver side door and stepped out of the car. The others followed suite in unison and rushed their way over to the line while the staff sergeant locked the car before joining them.
A few minutes passed before they were finally admitted into the club—each of them having to flash the bouncer their military IDs—and the five men made their way past the dance floor to a table near the bar. A few moments after sitting down a waitress with ocean blue eyes and shoulder length blond hair approached the table. Her name tag read "Mercedes."
"Hey there! What can I get you?"
Ward hadn't needed to check the menu. "I'll have a Budlight, ma'am."
"Same here," chimed Wilson.
"Good choice, Willie."
Mercedes nodded her head as she entered their orders into her datapad. While she was preoccupied with that, Ward noticed MacDoyle eying their waitress up. The expression on his face said it all; he was interested in her. He could understand why, too. Mercedes was slim with tan skin and a smooth complexion. Her hair was straight and possessed a sandy tint to it. Her navy blue shirt with the Moonlight logo on it hugged her figure tight, and so did her black skirt. All in all, she was a very attractive woman.
Finished with typing in the orders of the staff sergeant and lance corporal, she moved on to none other than MacDoyle. "And you, sir?"
"I'll take Scotch whiskey, love."
She nodded. "Okay. Nice mohawk by the way."
Mac smiled charmingly at her and unconsciously ran his fingers through his hair. "Thanks. I like yer name," he said in a flirtatious voice. "Mercedes. It's exotic."
Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red while she typed in his order. The young PFC chuckled and offered her charming wink when she looked up from her datapad. Ward shook his head and stifled a laugh as he watched the scene. In all his years in the military he had never met anyone quite like Colin. But, than again, the kid sort of reminded him of himself. Though, he hadn't been quite as… outgoing… as the trooper sitting to his left across from him. It had taken him all the courage he could muster to talk to the woman who he proudly called his wife.
He glanced down at his wedding band with a soft sort of smile. He met Charlene Kendall in his freshman year of high school and by about halfway through his sophomore year they were dating. Just before he graduated and enlisted in the Marines he'd proposed to her and officially married after he had returned from boot camp. That was mainly what had gotten him through those three grueling months. The thought that not only would he come out of it a Marine, but that he would be getting married shortly thereafter. She had been very supportive of him and her letter chips had kept him going day-in-and-day-out during his training.
Thomas and Owen ordered their drinks and Mercedes left to tend to her other tables. She came back not too long after with their drinks before scurrying off again as things got busier. By now there was a massive crowd on the dance floor and the heavy bass of the music reverberated in Ward's ears. Owen mentioned that he wanted to mingle and get some numbers, so Mac hastily ushered him in the direction of the dance floor to start meeting people. This left Wilson, Thomas, and Ward sitting to themselves with their drinks.
"I should've gotten a beer," remarked Martin after taking a sip of his drink.
"Don't like it?" Wilson asked him.
"Too fruity."
Jon chuckled. "That sounds like a personal problem, Marine."
Martin scoffed and glared at him for a moment. This only made the staff sergeant laugh a little harder. Wilson allowed a small grin to come across his features as he took a swig of his beer. Intent on changing the subject before more joking started, Thomas said, "Too bad Coop's not here."
"Where is Doc, anyway?" Wilson inquired, his eyes shifting between the two.
It was Ward who answered. "Visiting family," he said matter-of-factly. "His aunt and uncle own an apartment in Residential District A."
The lance corporal nodded and a silence fell upon the table. Ward took it as a moment to sit back with his drink and listen to the music. The DJ was shifting from different genres of music—playing the most popular tracks out of each genre—and currently they were listening to some techno. He watched the crowd on the dance floor. They were all in their own world, oblivious to the happenings around them. Men and women dancing together, gyrating, and he spotted a few women grinding with some of the men and—occasionally—other women. He felt himself wishing his wife were there with him. He would be on that very same dance floor if she were.
Though, admittedly, he wasn't much of a dancer. It wasn't that he couldn't dance as much as he didn't like to. But at the moment he was feeling in the mood to do so. Not gonna happen, he thought with a smirk to himself. If Charlene wasn't with him then he wasn't dancing. Period. End of story.
"So how long we stayin' here?" Martin asked as he took another reluctant sip of his beverage.
"Anxious to leave already, Thom?" Ward quipped with a grin. "I don't know. The hotel's pretty much across the street so I'm in no rush."
He took a long swig of his beer and swished the liquid in his mouth, relishing the taste, before inevitably swallowing it. He found that he liked the taste of Budlight as opposed to other beers. But only if it were in a bottle. He couldn't stand the taste of carbonated beer… it left a horrible aftertaste. One he could never easily get rid of. Not even with mouthwash, surprisingly enough.
Several hours and a few more beers in his stomach later, Mac and Owen returned. Though it appeared they were in the midst of a heated debate. As soon as they were close enough to hear, he listened in. "Coswalop! Han clearly shot first!"
"Oh, good God," sighed Thomas, shaking his head negatively at the approaching PFCs. Ward just smirked, amused by the subject of their debate. Star Wars. The centuries old cult-classic. He remembered back in his childhood the first time he'd ever watched the movies. His father had just returned from a deployment in the Outer Colonies and had bought him the entire saga on holodisc as a belated birthday present. He loved them. Couldn't get enough of it.
Now that he was much older he didn't care for it as much. Though he could still quote all the movies word-for-word without even needing to watch them. He had been that addicted to it as a kid.
"No, no, no!" Owen replied fervently. "Greedo definitely shot first. Watch the Collector's Edition!"
"The Collector's Edition is a steaming pile of shite!" MacDoyle barked as he plopped down in his chair.
Thomas looked like he'd had enough. "Hey, ladies, why don't you get a room?" he asked with the slightest hint of a grin. "That way you can sort out your marriage issues in private."
Mac shot the corporal a glare. "Sod off."
"Sod off, Corporal," he shot back.
"That sounds like a shotgun!" Owen interjected.
"Shut up, Owen."
Jonathan watched the scene transpire with a wide grin. He gently shook his head at his friends and turned his attention, again, to the dance floor. Heavy bass boomed at a fast-pace, the sound reverberating off the walls and causing the floor to rumble beneath the legs of the chair. He thought nothing of the short, but prominent quakes under them until another song came on—its beat much slower in tempo—and the ground shook out of sync with the beat of the track. The Staff Sergeant furrowed his brow and looked to his men.
They all had the same expression he did; that of concern. The ground quaked again, this time much stronger, and the echo of an explosion muffled by the walls of the building resounded in his ears. Standing up quickly, knocking his chair over in the process, he turned his attention towards the exit. Suddenly, a quartet of police officers rushed into the building with weapons in hand. The music stopped and the club went disturbingly quiet. The silence was broken by a trio of explosions that sounded too close for the Staff Sergeant's liking.
"PPD!" The lead cop announced loudly, an insignia of a Police Sergeant emblazoned on his collar. "I'm Sergeant Houser; I'm going to ask everyone to exit the building calmly and in an orderly fashion. Return to your vehicles and follow the instructions of the Superintendant and of my fellow officers. An evacuation is in effect."
Ward immediately knew exactly what was going on. He looked to his men who seemed to have come to the same conclusion; the startling realization causing them to go pale. As the once lively crowd of people began to make their way towards the exit—and the first signs of panic began to crop up—Jonathan, with his ODSTs in tow, pushed through the crowd. He stopped only to inform the officers who he was—and Sergeant Houser ordered one of the other cops, Constable Harris, to escort them to their vehicle. Harris took point and Ward followed behind him as closely as possible. The frequency of the explosions had increased and he was certain he had heard the distant staccato of gunfire.
As soon as the Constable had escorted them through the threshold of the front doors, Ward's eyes were met with the familiar signs of a battle. Scorch marks marred the light blue concrete pavement of the street beyond the parking lot and sparks dropped from a flickering street light. Distant screams and gunfire permeated the sense that all hell had suddenly broken loose. And up in the sky—in front of the bright luminescence of the twin moons of Crystal—was a flight of Banshees.
They were headed directly towards them.
"Incoming!" Ward screamed, running full tilt towards whatever cover he could find. Panic ensued and people ran in all directions, running into each other, knocking others over, trampling them. The pure chaos that had unfolded had given the Banshees the perfect opportunity… and a massive target area. The sound of seven fuel rod cannons firing at once filled his ears, drowning all other noise out for half a second. Jonathan watched in horror as a handful of people were flash vaporized, while others were thrown several feet in the air, only to land a few meters away in smoldering heaps. Those that weren't injured the detonations seemed even more distraught. Sergeant Houser and the officers that had arrived with him rushed outside and began crowd control.
Ward quickly looked around for his men. He spotted them emerging from different spots-Thomas from an alley, Mac and Owen from behind a car, and Wilson exited the club a second time. As much as he wanted to assist the officers with regaining control of the crowd, he knew that they couldn't. He needed to get into contact with Captain Schruger, their commanding officer. He wasn't sure if calling him on his datapad would work… the line would likely be busy. Fortunately, he knew where he could find him. There was a military base only a few kilometers away in the Government District. Schruger would most likely be there.
As he ordered his men into the rental car and he jumped into the driver seat, a single thought crossed his mind. The Battle of Crystal has begun.
The Covenant had found them.