StarDestroyer.Net BBS

Naturally, I can't wait for the actual one, forthcoming in a few years, so I decided to take a stab at a Halo screenplay myself. I'm trying to be relatively faithful to the book, although this first scene at least does not occur in TFoR, although it concievably could. I've only got this intro done so far; comments are welcome.
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Halo: The Motion Picture
Fan Screenplay


FADE IN:

EXT. PLAINS - DUSK

Planet Sigma Octanus IV, 2552 A.D.

Screen pans over a large plain of flat and swampy, but well maintained rice fields, tinged by distant jungle, eventually coming to a stop with a large human cityscape in the background. Over it hang three huge, purple starships, smooth-lined and almost organic-looking. From each of their bellies, a single, shimmering beam shoots down into the city, gravity elevators. Leading up to the city is a single, deserted highway, above which hangs a large sign, riddled by bullets holes and scorch marks. It reads “Welcome to Cote ‘d Azur.”

Move in closer to the city, to a high-walled backstreet, one of many winding through the inner residential area. Six armed human marines, some with injuries, and six frightened civilians move in a tight line through the alley, looking around nervously. Suddenly, the lead marine stops and halts the company, raising his MA5B assault rifle. He walks forward alone for a moment, peering down the side streets of an intersection they have reached. One of the civilians, a small child, whimpers. After a moment, the lead marine turns around and makes a beckoning hand gesture.

MARINE: It’s clear! Let’s get…

A thin beam of glimmering light bisects the marine’s head and it explodes.

2ND MARINE: Snipers! Get to cover!

The humans scatter, civilians crying out in fear as they dive for nearby dumpsters and alcoves. A flurry of green globs of fist-sized plasma opens up from the intersection, striking and killing another marine. An arc of a dozen large pinkish shards races through the air, sticking in the back of a civilian man and explode, sending him to the ground in a cloud of charred gore. The others get behind cover, but cannot move under the volume of fire, which is filling the air with acrid smoke as it blasts masonry and metal around them.

From the intersection, six GRUNTS, stocky, meter tall simian-like creatures with thick, bluish hides, wearing red armor and bearing triangular atmosphere tanks on their backs, emerge from the shadows, glowing plasma pistols or spike-covered Needlers in their small hands. Behind them, a pair alien twice as tall as the others, covered in reflective blue armor and gray body suits, emerge holding claw-like plasma rifles. ELITES, the have a hunched posture, long sloping necks and heads covered by a skull cap, and mouths with four extended, toothy mandibles. One of them shouts an order in an alien language, and the GRUNTS begin to fire on the entrenched humans again. The marines fire off a few shots, but are quickly driven back under cover by offensive fire.

At a window several stories above the street, a JACKAL stares down through the sight of a long, smooth beam rifle, attempting to target the hidden humans. It is only slightly taller than the GRUNTS, but is slimmer, with less armor and no atmosphere tank. It is vaguely avian in appearance, with a think crest of spines on its light-tan head and a long, toothy beak-like mouth. It chatters something to itself as it brings the weapon onto the head of a civilian below. From behind, in a deserted, cluttered room, the floor creaks loudly. The JACKAL looks back, and its beak drops open. It reaches for a plasma pistol on its belt, but something grabs it and pulls it out of shot before it can do so.

Below, the marines attempt to fire back at their attackers. One of the GRUNTS squeals in pain and falls over a spurt of bluish blood, but the marine who scored the hit takes a green glob in the arm, causing him to scream and drop back behind the cover of a shallow alcove, writhing in pain.

PVT. KANARA: Sir, Simms is down!

CORP. FIELD: Get him back as far as you can! And give his rifle to one of those civvies!
(turns to marine next to him) Miles, I need options.

PVT. MILES: Not many, sir. We can’t fall back in close quarters like these, and the nearest entryway is ten meters back, in the kill zone. And we don’t have any ordinance left. Simms used the last frag when we ran into the last patrol.

CORP. FIELD: That’s what I thought. Damn! Alright, were not just going to sit here and let them pick us to pieces. You, me, and Kanara will set up a diversion while the civvies and Simms make for the buildings. Might not do ‘em much good, but I think we can give those Covenant bastards a big enough nosebleed to stall them for a while. On my mark!

Suddenly, a loud explosion comes from the intersection, blowing smoke and shrapnel past the entrenched humans. The alien (Covenant) troop stops firing briefly, replaced by the cries of injured and bewildered GRUNTS. Then, the rapid crack of several assault rifles fills the air, followed by desperate Covenant return fire. The marines and civilians listen on in amazed confusion as one, and then the other ELITE cries out in pain and anger. Soon, the gunshots and plasma discharges cease. Carefully, CORP. FIELDS looks out from his cover. Standing over the bodies of the Covenant soldiers are three, two meter giants, dressed from head to toe in light green armor and thick, black body gloves. SPARTAN super soldiers. Their faces are obscured by helmets with heavily-tinted face plates.

PVT. MILES: (in awe) I don’t believe it. Spartans. They sent us Spartans.


CORP. FIELD, and then his men, slowly come out from cover, SIMMS supported by KARANA and one of the civilians; his arm burned to the bone. The corporal quickly appraises the newcomers, shoulders his rifle, and approaches the foremost of the SPARTANS. He doesn’t look any different from the other two armored soldiers, but his bearing clearly indicates he is their leader.

CORP. FIELD: (saluting) Master Chief. Thanks for the assist, sir. I didn’t they would send anyone else after us.

MASTER CHIEF: (nodding once) Are there any other survivors?

His voice is low and professional.

FIELD: No, sir. We’re all that’s left. There were more of us when the last of the skyscrapers were evacuated, but most of the group was slaughtered when the first drop ships landed. Those bastards don’t take prisoners.

From a side alley, a fourth SPARTAN emerges, quickly rejoining the others. Her voice, despite being slightly mechanical sounding through her suit, is obviously female.

KELLY: The area is secure, sir. It doesn’t look like there are any other patrols around here. They must all be centered downtown, near that camp we scouted on the way in.

MASTER CHIEF: (to FIELD) Corporal, you and your men have to be out of this city ASAP. While the fleet still has the Covenant here cut off from their space force, were going to nuke it.

FIELD glances uneasily at the large, rectangular device affixed to KELLY’S hip, a HAVOK nuclear football.

MASTER CHIEF: You ought to be able to avoid anymore patrols by going through the sewers. I’ve got two other teams rendezvousing near the silos to the south, with as many other survivors as they could find. They’ll take you to a dust-off point for extraction.

FIELD: Affirmative, sir. (To the others) Let’s move out! Kanara, you’ve got point. We’re heading for the sewers. Miles, police Marin and Arnold’s dog tags and ammo.

As the survivors form a defensive line again and head off for the intersection, the SPARTANS move in the opposite direction, deeper into the city.

FIELD: Master Chief, sir! Why don’t you just plant the nuke here, and we’ll help escort you out?

MASTER CHIEF: The Covenant could have just glassed this place from orbit before the fleet arrived, like they always do. I want to find out why they didn’t this time.

Excellent as always, Noble Ire. Keep it up!

Brilliance.

EXT. STREET – NIGHT

The streets deeper into Cote ‘d Azur are devoid of human activity, lit only by a few functioning street lights and the distant glimmer of COVENANT gravity elevators. On one side of a paved road between two large skyscrapers, three GRUNTS stand at guard, surrounding a larger alien, grayish white and shaped like a gas bag with insect-like feet and numerous thin tentacles. The ENGINEER curiously picks over the inner workings of an abandoned human Warthog transport vehicle, quickly disassembling and reassembling its various parts. In a darkened alley across the street, a pair of SPARTANS watch the four COVENANT, keeping their rifles at the ready. Between them, a manhole lies open, and after a few moments, the other two SPARTANS, KELLY and the MASTER CHIEF, emerge, sealing up the sewer access and grabbing their rifles.

MASTER CHIEF: Situation?

One of the other SPARTANS nods towards the group across the street.

FRED: There aren’t many of them on the street, sir. Just a few patrols and survey parties. Most of them are focused around the Museum of Natural History, up the block two hundred meters.

JAMES: The nuke?

MASTER CHIEF: Planted and hooked into the local transmitter network. We’ll be able to blow it remotely as soon as were outside of the city.

The MASTER CHIEF checks the ammo in his rifle’s cartridge.

MASTER CHIEF: Let’s have a look around that museum before we go. Can you get us there?

FRED: Yes, sir.

The SPARTANS wait until the GRUNT’S backs are turned, and then slip onto the street, MASTER CHIEF and FRED taking point, with KELLY and JAMES guarding the rear. Despite their heavy armor, the soldiers move quickly and quietly up the sidewalk, sticking to the shadows to avoid notice. Coming to a corner, they duck into a deserted storefront. KELLY moves to a broken windowpane and kneels down, scanning the street beyond with her artificially-enhanced vision.

KELLY: I’m counting thirty soldiers. Maybe five gun emplacements. (Pauses) And one… no, two Wraith tanks.

She is correct; the street outside the museum, a tall, granite building, with a pillared Grecian edifice, is swarming with heavily armed GRUNTS, JACKALS, and a few ELITES. Alongside them are spider-like plasma turrets and lumbering, purple shell-shell hover tanks, WRAITHS.

FRED: Frontal assault isn’t an option, not if we want to get in and get out without much delay.

The MASTER CHIEF pauses momentarily to consider, and then directs his troops out a side door into the alleyway between the storefront and the museum’s outer wall.

MASTER CHIEF: (Pointing at the thin, grayish surface) Thermite. Burn us through.

JAMES moves forward and plasters explosives over a small section of the wall. The team falls back into the shadows. A few seconds later, the explosives begin to burn with blinding light and a faint crackle, and then disappear, taking a section of the wall with them. The four SPARTANS pour into the breach, weapons at the ready. They are in a dimly lit, deserted supply room.

JAMES pauses a moment, and tilts his helmeted head to check the suit’s heads up display.

JAMES: There’s a lot of activity on my motion sensor coming from the center of the building, this floor. About forty meters that way. (He gestures to an abandoned hallway adjacent to the supply room)

The SPARTANS move out again, careful to stay out of sight. As they pass down the hall, windows into the main atrium of the museum show several groups of COVENANT soldiers moving in and out of exhibit halls, some of them dragging heavy equipment on hoversleds. They are plainly looking for something.

At last, the team comes to an entryway, over which a plaque reads GEOLOGY, and they duck in. The chamber they enter is very large, a square nearly thirty meters from side to side. Set in its high is a large, glass dome, its panes broken. Along the walls are dozens of glass display cases, and in the center of the room there is a large formation of pink quartz, surrounded by more display cases, all raised on a pedestal. Around it, five JACKALS work busily to extricate a large, granite stone covered in colorful crystals from a shattered display, and place it on a boxy platform that they have set up nearby. This platform raises apertures that begin to scan the rock, while a spiky antenna rises from another part of it. Suddenly, a beam of light burst from the antenna going out through the broken dome and up into space.

MASTER CHIEF: (Whispering over helmet comm) Our target.

The other three signal silently in recognition. They then fan out among the cases, until one of the JACKALS looks up, and notices FRED. Before it can squawk a warning, four assault rifles upon up on the group, cutting through three of the soldier’s thin armor and spattering their bluish blood on the floor. The other two activate ovoid energy shields on their wrist gauntlets, and hunch down, allowing bullets to splatter harmlessly off the barriers. Their glowing plasma pistols return fire, narrowly missing MASTER CHIEF and KELLY. Using the display cases around them for cover, the SPARTANS continue firing, and the some shots find their way past the shields, killing the JACKALS. Wasting no time, MASTER CHIEF makes a series of sharp hand signals at the raises platform and the transmitter, and KELLY and JAMES break from cover and make for the granite stone, the later covering the former.

FRED: Sir!

The SPARTAN indicates to the main entrance of the chamber, covered by a pair of heavy wooden doors, slightly ajar. From beyond them, an increasingly loud pounding can be heard. The MASTER CHIEF and FRED begin to back away, and suddenly the doors explode inwards, showering the armored soldiers with splinters. Standing in the entryway are a pair of titanic creatures, two and a half meters tall, covered completely in bulky blue armor, with tiny slivers of orange flesh visible at the joints. The HUNTERS carry massive metallic shields on their left arms, and huge, single barrel cannons built into their right. The SPARTANS open fire immediately, but their weapons have no effect, the bullets simply bounce off the dense armor. Backing away, the MASTER CHIEF pulls a frag grenade from his ammo belt and throws it between the monsters. It detonates, showering both with burning metal fragments, but they stand remain standing, uninjured. From the armor-capped nub between its massive shoulders, in place of a head, one of the HUNTERS unleashes a horrible bellow.

MASTER CHIEF: Fall back!

The two SPARTANS, still firing, move to rejoin their comrades, who have recovered the stone. KELLY slips it into a pouch on her belt, and rejoins the firing line. Still under heavy fire, one of the HUNTERS raises its right arm slowly, and from the barrel comes a bright green glow. A second later, a huge lance of burning energy erupts from it and smacks into the side of the raised pedestal, where KELLY and JAMES are standing. The area explodes into a cloud of putrid smoke, which clears to reveal a swath of blackened floor several meters long cut through the floor, revealing a basement level below. Neither SPARTAN caught near the blast is in view.

MASTER CHIEF: Aim for the floor!

Both standing SPARTANS turn their assault rifles downward, and begin to chew up the wood and tile below the HUNTERS with hundreds of armor-piercing rounds. The two giants begin to lumber forward, both their cannons lighting up with green fire, but their weight finally breaks the floor, and they both plummet into the basement, bellowing. The SPARTANS continue to fall back, moving behind the platform, where KELLY is picking herself off the floor, unhurt. Beside her, however, JAMES lies unconscious, his left arm reduced to a burned stump. Kneeling, his rifle still in his right hand, the MASTER CHIEF kneels down and throws his left arm around JAMES’S figure, dragging him to his feet. As he does so, green globs of plasma and pinkish needler rounds begin to fill the air; a throng of JACKALS and GRUNTS are rushing towards the chamber, and are almost to the shattered doors.

MASTER CHIEF: Move out! Cover me!

The four soldiers make for the back hallway and disappear, FRED the last to go, pausing to toss two grenades into the charging throng. Scene ends with the dual explosion.

EXT. HILLS – DAWN

A single, large Pelican dropship rises from the jungle-encrusted hills and powers into the clouds, Cote ‘d Azur in the far background, silhouetted by the planet’s dual sunrise. Suddenly, a blinding light engulfs the city, with a sonic boom that buffets the fleeing transport. Soon, the airship leaves the lower atmosphere, the blackness of space before it.

In the cockpit of the vessel, a pair of helmeted, female pilots make preparations for entry into low orbit. Behind her, the hold is packed full of worn marines, exhausted civilians, and stoic SPARTANS, more than the MASTER CHIEF’S squad; twenty of them. The MASTER CHIEF checks on JAMES, who is being attended to by a medic. Then he moves forward, behind the pilots.

MASTER CHIEF: What’s the situation in orbit?

Pilot: Well, sir, it looks like we won. There aren’t any Covenant warships left operational in the system.

The victory has come at a drastic price, however. As a massive graveyard of shattered starship hulls coalescing in orbit comes into view, it becomes clear there are more than twice as many blocky, gunmetal human warships floating in shattered clouds than the sleeker, larger COVENANT warships.

Copilot: Incoming transmission from the fleet.

The pilot flips a few switches, and a wear, male voice fills the cockpit.

TRANSMISSION: This is Captain Jacob Keyes, of the UNSC Iroquois. Pelican one-eight-three, you are to dock as soon as we enter low orbit. The Spartans are being recalled to Reach. And tell them that they did well today, they saved Sigma Octanus. We need any victory we can get these days.

The MASTER CHIEF stares out at the massive stellar graveyard, seemingly emotionless behind his opaque mask. However, his posture has sagged, and he wearily turns from the cockpit to inform his unit of the docking.

The Pelican disappears into the side docking bay of the waiting Iroquois, a huge, blocky destroyer, studded with weaponry and covered in hull breaches and battle scars. It turns away from the planet and plows through one of the thinner portions of the debris field, easily knocking aside hunks of melted battleship plating. As the starship exits the field, a small, semi-circular object, smaller than a man, lights up with thrusters and moves from the cover of a wrecked COVENANT capital ship to attach itself to the destroyer’s hull. The probe extends a short transmitter, which begins to blink rhythmically just as the destroyer activates its slipspace faster than light drive, and disappears into the blackness.

I see you've taken inspiration from First Strike. Excellent chapter, cant wait for more.

EXT. PLANETARY ORBIT

Planet Reach

A planet, blue and green, looking much like Earth, sits in the background. In orbit around it, dozens of huge MAC defense stations and UNSC warships hang, tiny shuttles and fighters flitting around them.

Switch down to the planet’s surface. A large, boxy structure surrounded by smaller buildings and military vehicles sits in the shadow of a large, alpine mountain. A Warthog transport vehicle drives up to a gate in the fence around the facility, and is ushered through by armed soldiers. A sign by the gate reads “FLEETCOM HQ”.

Inside the facility, two dozen men and women in military uniforms sit in the first few rows of a large, semicircular amphitheater, facing a well-lit stage. The light in the rest of room is dim, casting shadow over the faces of the people assembled, but enough is visible to show that they are all tall and well-built, with unusually pale skin. Several of them are conversing quietly with one another.

FEMALE: Did anyone tell you why we’ve been summoned?

MALE: No, I just got the orders from John to be here at 0800, just like everyone else.

2ND MALE: Reassignment, I would guess. We’ve already all been debriefed. It is odd that they would have Dr. Halsey give it to us though. I haven’t even seen her for years.

From a door set in the back wall, two people walk onto the stage. The conversation stops immediately, and everyone in the audience stands, at stiff attention. DOCTOR HALSEY, a slight woman in her late middle-ages, with gray hair and large, circular glasses, wearing a long lab coat steps up to the podium at the front of the stage. CAPTAIN KEYES walks up beside her, dressed in a simple, gray naval uniform, chest covered in badges and medals. He is about the same age as HALSEY, with a lined face and graying black hair, holding a wooden pipe cupped in his hands, which he puffs on occasionally.

HALSEY: Good evening, Spartans. Please take your seats.

The members of the audience sit in precise unison. HALSEY pushes her glasses up on her nose.

HALSEY: Gathered her tonight are all the Spartans remaining on active duty save three, who could not be recalled due to their distance from Reach. I am pleased so many of you have survived this war for so long. It is very good to see you all again.

She pauses, and smiles.

HALSEY: Due to your exceptional operational record, the best in the fleet, Admiral Stanforth has selected you to take part in the operation I am about to lay out. Due to the complex and unusual nature of this assignment, you are authorized to disregard regular protocols, and ask questions at any time during my presentation. Now, let us begin. The issue at hand: the Covenant.

The empty space above the stage flickers, and holographic images shimmer to life, sharp and lifelike. A screen, tinged with static comes into view, displaying a starfield, with an Earth-like planet in the background. Around it, the ruined hulks of UNSC vessels drift past several COVENANT warships.

HALSEY: Since our first contact with the conglomeration of aliens that call themselves “the Covenant” twenty seven years ago, they have been determined to hunt down and kill every human being they could find. We have never been able to understand why they wish to drive us into extinction, but they do, with almost religious dedication and urgency.

The COVENANT ships on the holographic image begin to move towards the planet. A moment later, huge jets of crimson and blue plasma shoot from them down to the planet. Huge black splotches begin to burn across its surface.

HALSEY: As you all know, Covenant technology far surpasses our own, and we have rarely won a fleet engagement without incurring devastating losses. This fact, combined with their overwhelming numbers advantage, means we have been losing this war from its start, and only though our efforts to hide our worlds from the Covenant armada, and several successful ground campaigns spearheaded by yourselves, have we kept the human race alive.

The image above swifts to a trio of massive COVENANT warships smashing their way through a defensive line of UNSC cruisers, melting easily through their armor with plasma blasts as missiles explode harmlessly against their energy shields.

HALSEY: However, we cannot keep this holding action up forever. It is time to go on the offensive.

The projection of the fleet battle fades away. Images of GRUNTS, JACKALS, ENGINEERS, ELITES, and HUNTERS all appear in sequence in its place, and then shrink, forming a line of stationary figures.

HALSEY: The Covenant are still largely unknown to us. We suspect that it consists of a caste structure, made up of species that are conquered and then added the whole, exploiting each groups strengths. Their science seems to have developed similarly; an amalgam of different techniques and technologies gleaned from different conquered sources.

HALSEY glances up at the floating projections.

HALSEY: As I mentioned, the Covenant caste system is structured around strict military roles, the Grunts and Jackals serving as expendable ground troops, with the Elites serving as commanders, and Hunters as warriors of a rank just under them. (She points to each as they are mentioned) Our ONI researchers believe there are at least two more castes, one of them responsible for the operation and maintenance of their starships. These creatures may fill that role. (She points at the ENGINEER) The last group, a leadership caste, is believed to be filled by a group called the Prophets, as they are called in intercepted Covenant communications.

She looks back at the audience, and the holograms disappear.

HALSEY: This is where you come in. Your mission will involve these so called Prophets, and will be executed in four phases. Phase one. You will engage the Covenant, and sufficiently disable, but not destroy, one of their ships.

She gestures to KEYES.

HALSEY: I leave that in the capable hands of Captain Keyes and the newly refitted Pillar of Autumn.

KEYES nods curtly and brings the pipe to his lips thoughtfully.

HALSEY: Phase two. Spartans will board the disabled Covenant ship, neutralize the crew, and crack their navigation database. Hopefully, we will be able to locate their homeworld, precisely what they have been trying to do to us for a long time.

A man in the audience raises his hand. HALSEY pauses, and smiles slightly.

HALSEY: Yes, Master Chief?

A man in the front row rises to his feet, bringing his face into the full light. The MASTER CHIEF looks to be in his thirties, with pale skin and very short brown hair, but the lines around his eyes indicate he is much older. A pair of light scars is etched across his left cheek.

MASTER CHIEF: Ma’am. We will be given a mission specialist to access the Covenant computers?

HALSEY: In a manner of speaking. I won’t go into it now, but rest assured, the specialist won’t impede your ability to fight effectively. Their presence might even help.

There is a moment of silence, and the MASTER CHIEF sits down.

HALSEY: Phase three will consist of taking the captured Covenant ship to their homeworld. Finally, phase four will involve the infiltration and capture of the Covenant leadership, and their return to UNSC-held space.

The MASTER CHIEF raises his hand again, and HALSEY nods in recognition, causing him to stand.

MASTER CHIEF: Dr. Halsey, you did say capture the leadership. We are not to eliminate them?

HALSEY: Correct. From what we understand of Covenant society indicates that killing the leadership caste would actually escalate this war. Your orders are to preserve the captured leaders and return them to UNSC headquarters, where we may be able to force a truce, or perhaps even negotiate a peace treaty. Some of you may already suspect that the war is going badly, but we have only learned recently how badly, despite our recent victory at Sigma Octanus. ONI Intelligence predicts that we have a few months, perhaps a year, until the Covenant locate and destroy the last of our Inner colonies, and then move on to Earth.

The SPARTANS fidget nervously in their seats, but say nothing.

HALSEY: You mission is to prevent this. This operation is extremely high risk, and I have convinced FLEETCOM not to order you on this mission. Admiral Stanforth is asking for volunteers.

Around the MASTER CHIEF, who is still standing, all two dozen SPARTANS rise to their feet.

HALSEY: Very good. Thank you, all of you. Over the next few days, you will each be briefed individually on your equipment for this mission. Dismissed.

Hm, great thus far, though I doubt we should ever unmask Master Chief, ever, even in the movie.

So this story takes place before Halo...very interesting, to say the least

Its following the novel Fall of Reach

EXT. INTERIOR

Open to a completely darkened room, pitch black. Then, center screen, a sliding door opens to both sides, flooding the room with white light, silhouetting two figures in the doorway, HALSEY and the MASTER CHIEF, still in his uniform. As they enter, the room’s ceiling lights activate, revealing a large laboratory area, its walls covered with computer terminals, holographic projectors, and sealed alcoves. To one side is a desk piled high with paperwork and datapads.

HALSEY: Wait here a moment. I have to prepare a few things before I show you your new equipment.

She moves off to a computer beside the desk and hurriedly types in several commands. The MASTER CHIEF looks around the room curiously as he waits.

MASTER CHIEF: Permission to speak freely, Ma’am?

HALSEY: (Without looking up) Of course. You needn’t ask around me.

The MASTER CHIEF pauses a moment, looking uncomfortable.

MASTER CHIEF: Has any analysis been done on the stone my squad recovered from Cote ‘d Azur?

HALSEY: Hmm. I think let her answer that.

MASTER CHIEF: Her, Ma’am?

HALSEY types in another command, and the air above the desk shimmers to life. A figure appears in mid-air, almost human size, a woman who looks like a beautiful, younger version of DOCTOR HALSEY, body made out of glowing strands of purplish light. She looks down at the MASTER CHIEF.

PROJECTION: Igneous, meteoritic rock located on Sigma Octanus Four forty years ago. When the crystal deposits found in the rock are scanned with a visible spectrum laser, a code signal identical to one located trapped at relativistic speeds in the accretion disk of a black hole forty-thousand light years from the planet is formed. However, I have so far been unable to translate any of the information held in the code.

HALSEY: Chief, I would like you to meet Cortana.

CORTANA looks over the MASTER CHIEF appraisingly.

CORTANA: So, he’s the one taking me on this operation. Master Chief Petty Officer John-117. I’ve reviewed your combat record, quite impressive. Awarded the Legion of Honor in 2546 for single-handedly taking out a bunker of twenty Covenant soldiers to save a marine squad. You’re the best of the best, by all accounts, and Dr. Halsey’s favorite as well, from the way she talks about you.

HALSEY blushes, and walks in front of her desk.

HALSEY: Cortana is a “smart” AI, well in advance of any other artificial intelligence unit the UNSC has in service. She can think creatively and adapt to virtually any situation put before her, and is specially designed for infiltration and code-breaking duties. Once inside a Covenant starship, she should be able to interface with and commandeer almost any of its systems, even remotely.

MASTER CHIEF: Cortana is the mission specialist you mentioned at the briefing?

HALSEY: Indeed. And I assure you, your team won’t be encumbered by the bulky memory cores most less-advanced AI units use. Actually, that brings us to the second part of my demonstration.

An alcove in the wall next to the MASTER CHIEF opens to reveal a doorway.

HALSEY (Gesturing to the door): If you would.

The MASTER CHIEF walks through the sliding door, and finds himself in a small, unadorned room, with another doorway set in the opposite wall, and a multi-tiered rack set into another. On it rest the components of a suit MJOLNIR battle armor, similar to what the SPARTANS were wearing before. However, this suit is cleaner, with no dents and scrapes, and has a brighter green sheen.

MASTER CHIEF: This isn’t my old suit?

HALSEY (Over Intercom): No, it isn’t. This is the real thing, a culmination of decades of weapons research and Covenant reverse engineering. This MJONIR battle armor will provide you, and your team, the ability to complete the new operation I have laid out for you, and stand toe to toe to with any soldier in the Covenant horde. Please, put it on.

Switch to another room, where a pair of uniformed technicians wait. A moment later, MASTER CHIEF enters, wearing the new armor, with the wide-visor helmet in the crook of his arm. The technicians direct him to an examination table, on which he leans.

HALSEY (Over Intercom): Before you attach the helmet, we need to add a few upgrades to the software in your neural implants.

TECHNICIAN: Hold on, sir. This will only take a moment.

He uses a scalpel to make an incision at the base of the MASTER CHIEF’S neck, and then plugs a long cable from a nearby computer terminal into a metal socket revealed beneath the flesh. The MASTER CHIEF winces.

TECHNICIAN: Uplink complete. The memory processor matrix is installed.

The TECH sterilizes and seals the cut with a spray, and the MASTER CHIEF stands up. HALSEY is now in the room with him, smiling, and gestures to the helmet. The SPARTAN puts it on. The camera switches to the MASTER CHIEF’S perspective, and the helmet’s shaded visor covers the screen.

HALSEY: We’ve made hundreds of tiny technical improvements to the system. For example, you may notice that your heads-up display has been streamlined, and modified for superior detection range.

A blue disk appears at the lower right hand of the screen, and on it are three yellow dots, corresponding to the position of HALSEY and her aides. Around it are several indicators that detail the temperature and atmospheric status of the room. Below the disk is a colored band, above which reads “Shield Status”. The screen switches back to the room.

HALSEY: However, there are two major improvements that I believe need to be demonstrated. First, we have been able to adapt the defensive shield used by some Covenant ground forces and apply them to the MJOLNIR system. It won’t stay up indefinitely under heavy bombardment, but it should give you the edge in any firefight, and regenerates automatically over time if reduced. Its power cell is also highly contained; you shouldn’t need to replace it for several months after activation.

She directs him to a raised platform, and the MASTER CHIEF stands on it. A pair of pillars rise up around him.

TECHNICIAN: Please stand absolutely still.

The pillars begin to spin rapidly around the MASTER CHIEF, and golden strands of energy begin to emerge from them, wrapping and coalescing around his suit, covering it’s every surface. The pillars slow down and stop, and the golden glow fades.

HALSEY: Chin the activation control, right under your HUD.

He does so, and a very faint shimmering envelops him. He steps off the platform, and slips slightly, unsteady.

HALSEY: You should be able to reduce the field from your boot emitters with the same helmet control to increase friction. The shield also tapers to only a millimeter around your hands, so you can still use equipment unimpeded.

MASTER CHIEF takes a few experimental steps, steadies himself, and then touches his chest plate. The finger stops a just barely above the armor, halted by an unseen force. He then turns back to HALSEY.

MASTER CHIEF: Thank you, ma’am. Just how much damage can this system take before it breaches?

HALSEY: That is what you will learn here today.

HALSEY presses a button set into the wall, and the adjoining barrier begins to rise up into the ceiling, revealing a wide, well maintained exercise and training field. The MASTER CHIEF and HALSEY walk out onto it.

MASTER CHIEF: Ma’am, you said there were two significant improvements?

HALSEY: Indeed there are. Between the reactive circuits and inner bio-layers of your armor is an additional weave of memory-processing super-conductors.

MASTER CHIEF: (Pauses) The same material as an AI’s core.

HALSEY smiles slightly, and removes a small chip from her pocket. It is rectangular, with a silvery disk at its center. She places it in the MASTER CHIEF’S outstretched hand. He looks down at it, and then back at her.

MASTER CHIEF: Ma’am, this isn’t what…

HALSEY: It is. With the superconducting weave, your armor has nearly the capacity of a shipboard AI system. Cortana will be able to interface between you and the suit, and provide real time tactical and strategic data in the field. She has a talent for decoding and translating Covenant transmissions on the fly, and can update you to enemy movements by directly transmitting them into your neural interface.

MASTER CHIEF: Can she control the MJOLNIR armor?

HALSEY: No, Cortana resides in the interface between your mind and the suit, Master Chief. Only you can transmit the neural impulses necessary to make the armor move. However, she can transmit those impulses from your motor cortex directly into motion, greatly improving your reaction time.

MASTER CHIEF: This AI will be inside my mind?

HALSEY (Pauses): Cortana does directly interpret the electrochemical messages in your brain and transmit them to the suit by way of your neural implant. However, she does not and cannot interfere with what you would think of as your mind: intuition, reason, emotion would all still be your own. But in a purely physical sense, yes, she will be inside your mind.

MASTER CHIEF stares down at the chip again.

MASTER CHIEF: Ma’am, my priority will be to complete this mission. This AI, Cortana, may have conflicting directives.

HALSEY: There is no need to worry, Master Chief. Cortana has the same mission parameters as you do. She will do anything necessary to make sure that your mission is accomplished. Even if that means sacrificing herself, or you, to accomplish it.

Slowly, the MASTER CHIEF raises the chip to eye level, and then reaches around to a socket at the base of his neck armor, and plugs the chip into a deep recess set into it. The screen shots down into the socket, and through a winding, darkened tunnel, its sides racing with purple and blue light. After a moment, the tunnel swings upward, and the screen bursts into MASTER CHIEF’S perspective.

CORTANA (VO): Not a lot of room in here. Hello again, Master Chief.

MASTER CHIEF: Hello…Cortana.

CORTANA: Hmm, I’m detecting a high degree of cerebral cortex activity. You’re not the muscle bound automaton the pres makes out to be.

MASTER CHIEF (Whispering): Automaton? Interesting choice of words for an artificial intelligence.

HALSEY: You must forgive Cortana, Master Chief. She is somewhat high-spirited. You may have to allow for behavioral quirks.

MASTER CHIEF: Yes, ma’am.

Screen switches back to exterior view, looking in on the test chamber from the training yard, lit by the morning sun.

HALSEY: I think we should begin the test straightaway. There’s no better way for you to get acquainted than in simulated combat. Now, I believe…

She is cut off by a roar from above. HALSEY and MASTER CHIEF look up into the sky to see a pair of Longsword Interceptor starfighters fly overhead and angle off rapidly into orbit.

HALSEY: That’s odd. They don’t usually allow flight drills so close to Command.

From the door behind them, a loud rapping ensues, and several armed marines rush in. One of them salutes the MASTER CHIEF.

MARINE CAPTAIN: Master Chief, sir! I have orders to escort you immediately to FLEETCOM C&C.

MASTER CHIEF: What’s the situation, soldier?

MARINE CAPTAIN: The Covenant, sir. They’ve found Reach.

wait wait... in this chapter you mention MC without his helmet on? Do we see his face? If so, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Hawkwings wrote:wait wait... in this chapter you mention MC without his helmet on? Do we see his face? If so, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Including Reach in the story necessitates seeing his face. I'm sure this will not occur in the actual movie, but I thought I'd try to include it, since it would be something I would want to see onscreen, adding more depth to the characters and all.

Of course, I could just have the rest of it with the Chief flipping tanks end over end, killing marines for their grenades, trying to write his name in the walls with bullet holes, and punching the other Spartans in the back of the head when their about to snipe someone just to be a dick. And I could have an auto-respawn in there too.