Introduction
First of all I’d like to say that I don’t normally write much fan-fiction. I may borrow and take inspiration from a lot of things, but rarely do I care enough about a setting to feel like I want to add anything to it. As I stated before, diving into the Halo universe as deeply as I have has given me a large appreciation and love for it. It is very detailed, fleshed out, and grounded in many ways. Sure there are elements that are borderline (if not outright) fantasy, but at no point does it simply feel like wizards in space, or anything along those lines. I appreciate that.
As I dove in, I learned about Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, or ODSTs, and they instantly became my favorite part of the Halo universe, and I decided I wanted to write a short story about a team of ODSTs. I’ll share it in snippets, as I write it, and then re-share a whole copy. This is a rough draft, and will need proofread and edited, but I thought I’d share it with you all in its rawest form. Thank you for taking the time to read it.
The Battle For Coral, Part 1
2552
August on earth. Somewhere on the ship is a computer that would eagerly display Universal Time, or Local Earth Time, or Zulu Time if one was so inclined. Those that were aboard the UNSC Cruiser Blood of Martyrs were not so inclined. The cruiser, and her contents, sat in orbit over CE-2-1239 e. It was a planet like every other. Jungles, desserts, oceans, even humans. One more in the list of planets the UEG had colonized.
The ship itself was home to over a thousand crew members, half of which were marines, and of that half only about ten percent of those were Helljumpers. Outside of that the remaining numbers were the pilots and crew required to operate the ship and keep it operational.
The inside of the ship felt labyrinthine. Each bay, room, and door opening into another, an endless supply of halls and interconnected rooms that could disorient easily. There were medical bays, arms rooms, mess halls, research facilities, living quarters, maintenance bays, cargo holds, motor pools, if you could think of it, there was a room for it. Thankfully an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper only needed to know where a handful of rooms were, and they were all contained in a fairly small area.
Firstly, an ODST needed to know where their rack was. “A tired trooper is a dead trooper”. A common expression in the UNSC military, not just among the ranks of Helljumpers. Secondly they needed to know where the Fitness Center was. It was important to stay in peak physical shape, as the missions ODSTs received could take them deep into enemy territory for long periods of time, and the ability to shoot, move, and communicate was predicated on being fit to fight.
The mess hall was another of those important places a trooper needed to be aware of. It was important to get the meals you could, when you could. Once on mission, there was no guarantee that you’d have much to eat aside from the field rations you packed in your assault pack. Occasionally it would be days between meals once on the ground, so staying fit and fed were of high importance.
The last, and arguably most important, place an ODST needed to know the location of on a ship this large was a group of narrow compartments, each lined with single occupant exoatmospheric insertion vehicles, or SOEIVs, though most of the crew simply called them eggs for quite obvious reasons. These compartments were generally referred to as Hell’s Waiting Room, though each ship may have additional nicknames for it. The crew called it the Hen House, due to the halls being filled with Eggs. The ODSTs, however, referred to it as Purgatory.
Dropping to the surface meant leaving the ship in ceramic lined eggs through the planet’s atmosphere, and exposing oneself to the extreme temperatures that came with that exposure. On rare occasions a trooper might burn up with their egg in transit, or they may get shot down by anti aircraft weaponry. An unfortunate danger that came with the job, but losing a single trooper to enemy fire was a much more acceptable loss than losing a whole boat full.
When a Drop Trooper climbs into their egg, they know there are only two options, enter a warzone or die en route. The drop itself is five to 10 minutes of the most excruciating silence a trooper could experience. The ceramic shell is thick enough to keep most of the turbulent noise out, and the only real light comes from the heads-up display that shows the status of the pod, even after the ceramic burns off, there is still mostly silence.
Some of the troopers take that silence to prepare for the mission by performing last minute double and triple checks, though finding something wrong at that moment would be too late. Others pray to whatever deity they deem fit. Some cling to old Earth religions, others simply pray to the stars, whomever they think will listen will get their prayers.
Others, like the ODST Team Leader Captain Shade simply spent the time trying not to empty the contents of their stomach into the internals of their helmet. Every time it was time to drop his stomach would turn. It would twist itself into knots until his insides felt like they were trying to invert themselves and they would drop long before he did. It wasn’t the fear of death that did it to him, at least that’s what he told himself. He felt that it was the confined space of the egg. The inability to move. It wasn’t the thought of dying that caused his stomach to fold over on itself, but the helplessness and unknown.
“Leprechaun 6, you’re needed in Purgatory. CO wants a word.” Captain Shade’s handheld radio broke the silence he was doing his best to enjoy. He leaned back in his chair, sipped his coffee, and sighed deeply as he slowly looked to the floor.
“Never a moment,” Captain Shade said to himself, grabbing his radio.
The device squawked when he pressed the button, “Yeah. Be there in a few. Just going to finish my coffee.” He took another sip and set the cup down, already knowing how the conversation would end.
“Negative, sir, CO says it’s urgent. Needs you now.” The voice on the other side responded.
“It’s always urgent,” he said, right before pressing the button, “On my way, One.”
“Copy, Six. One out.”
The captain stepped from the small table he was seated at, the officers’ mess was surprisingly empty, and he had just wanted to take advantage of a few minutes without the constant drone of hundreds of people near him at all times. He walked to the sink, tossed the remnants of his coffee down the drain and then splashed cold water on his face.
He needed a shave. He could feel two days worth of stubble covering most of his face. He patted himself down making sure he had everything he would need and started the walk from the Mess to Purgatory.
Stepping up to the door, he glanced above him. A sign hung above the door that read “Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch’intrate”. It was a long-dead language, but Captain Shade had read the expression in a book once. Roughly translated it read “Abandon All Hope, Those that enter here”. A fitting sign for “Hell’s Waiting Room”.
He scanned his ID and the doors slid open. He stepped inside to see the CO standing next to the large holographic computer they used for sand tables and mission briefings, the blue light emanating from the images he was working on, giving the room an eerie glow. Shade’s team was nearby, doing pre-mission checks, and other Team Leads were on hand while their teams went about their own checks.
Shade walked to the table, placed his hands on the edge of the computer, and leaned over slightly.
“Thanks, for joining, E.” The CO looked over his shoulder to Shade, a smirk across his face.
Shade stood to attention briefly, gave a salute, “Air Assault, Sir,” was his response.
“What’s up, Captain O?” He continued, looking at the smirk on the COs face as Captain Orion returned the salute, which was mostly a formality of position.
“Covenant vessels just dropped out of slipspace.” Orion started.
Shade’s eyes widened a little, “Piss.” He interrupted.
“Relax, E. We’ve got a few tricks to help us. But before we get into that. We should… Well. We should talk about the new mission.” Orion looked calm and optimistic, it was a reassuring feeling that he wasn’t too worked up over the Covenant vessels appearing.
“Sure, Sir. Though I wouldn’t mind discussing the “tricks” first, if it’s all the same. If we are about to drop, I’d like to know that there’s a possibility we will have a ship to return to.”
“Sure, E. All I can say about it is that this ship has an experimental form of active camo. I guess we find out pretty quickly how well it works.” Orion laughed as he finished his sentence.
“Roger, sir, I guess it’s fifty-fifty.” Shade responded, a smile crossing his lips.
“Everything is, Captain.”
Both men laughed at that, sharing an inside joke that the other Team Leads weren’t in on, and they stared at the two captains as the men regained their composure.
“All right, The Covenant are here. We think we know why they are here, and I think we can bully them off of the objective.”
This time Captain Orion was addressing all of the team leaders, and they all listened intently.
“While digging for resources, the Kelland mining company uncovered what we think to be a Forerunner installation. We’ve had intelligence officers on site investigating, and it stands to reason the covenant is also aware of its existence.” Orion paused to take a breath. He pulled the location, topography, and local map on the holographic projector.
“If I can direct your attention to the map,” he spoke again, pointing towards the images floating in the air.
“I’m going to insert you around the structure. The terrain is dense jungles, light hills, though some of you will be in the tunnels. You won’t have time for proper defensive fighting positions, but the terrain is tight, with a few clearings and roads created by the miners.” Another pause as he looked at the officers and NonComs in his presence.
“The Covenant doesn’t know WE are here. Expect a full raiding force, though the terrain will severely limit the use of larger vehicles like wraiths. Even Ghosts will struggle off of the marked roads. I’d like to see rockets deployed here, here, and here, to set up ambushes along those roads, with another flanking team to support them.
Once you’re on the ground, there won’t be much support. This is a civilian planet, and as such they won’t have much in the way of heavy arms. Kelland execs have granted us the ability to use anything at their disposal, so we will have mining rigs and some extra ground vehicles, just don’t expect too much from it once the plasma starts firing.”
A grim silence hung in the air.
“Cas-Evacs should gather here, this will be where the CSH is, that’s Combat Support Hospital for you dumb grunts.” He pointed to a location on the map as he finished his sentence.
A slight chuckle rolled through the room, and the tension eased slightly. Orion could read a room, and had spent enough time with his Drop Troopers to know how to communicate with them.
“The overall mission is incredibly simple. We form a perimeter, and we hold them back. I don’t know what this installation is, but I know they want it. What they don’t know is that it’s mine, and we’re not going to let them have it.” Orion straightened up, his smiling face glowed in the light of the hologram.
There was an overall tone of agreement as some hushed chatter filled the room.
“Excuse me. Sir?” a voice spoke up. “Sir, what’s the evac plan?” The chatter hushed at the question. It was a great question, and an extremely important one, but it was also a question no one really wanted the answer to. Captain Klein was the one to ask, a short, wide-framed Team Lead with a scorpion tattoo on her forearm.
The smile slowly faded from Orion’s face, and it was replaced with a melancholic frown. He let out a small sigh before he spoke.
“No bullshit, Troopers. There isn’t much of one right now.” He kept his head up, speaking to them, instead of the floor. He wanted so badly to hide, to not have to deliver this news, but he knew he needed to. He knew his troopers needed to hear it, and they needed to hear it out of his mouth.
“Our current mission is hold the line. If we manage to do that, AND the Blood of Martyrs manages to remain undetected, then we will start shuttling people back, but right now, there isn’t much of an evac plan.”
The room fell completely silent. Uncomfortably silent. Nervous eyes glanced from the floor to each other. No one wanted to say anything.
“So… We are being sent to die?” Klein had asked, a nervous sound to her voice.
“Looks like it,” Shade responded. He wasn’t thrilled about the prospect, but he knew the statistics. The life expectancy of a drop trooper was miniscule, and making officer was a rare feat. By all accounts most of the Team Leaders should have died in combat by now. This was the world reclaiming its balance, and like it or not, that was just the way it was.
“I know…” Orion started. He was gently waving his arms in a downward motion. “ I know it looks like… Like you are all going to eat a big shit sandwich.”
Nervous chuckling in response.
It’s better than silence, he thought.
“And you are. We all are. But our mission is to stop them from reclaiming whatever Kelland Mining uncovered, so that’s exactly what we are going to do!” He paused, then raised his voice into a yell
“Where are we going, Troopers!”
“Hell, Sir!” the Team Leaders responded in unison
“And how do we get there!”
“Feet First!”
A good distraction, Orion thought, as he looked to the officers that were starting to relay the mission data to their teams. Hopefully it keeps morale just a bit longer.
“Oh. E.” Orion said as Captain Shade had started to walk away to brief his team.
“Sir?” Shade responded before turning around slowly.
Orion took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The tension leaving his body was almost visible, and he became much more relaxed.
“E, I’ve got a special objective if you and your boys are up to it?”
“As long as it gets us off this god-damned ship, Sir.” Shade responded with a smile.
“Perfect. Gather your team, I’ll brief you ASAP. You’ll be the first team in. Copy?” Orion asked.
“Air Assault, Sir.” Shade gave a hasty salute and turned to round up his team.