This is a conversion of a script for a machinima series I've been writing for the 305th Helljumper Clan. The video isn't set to be released until after Halo 3 is out (we plan on using it for a lot of the filming). The script is not 100% complete yet, and is subject to change due to the changing of the Halo storyline, however much of it can be shown because it centers around Major Silva, who died during the battle of Halo. This is our interpretation of the Helljumper training and program, and of the heroics involved. Keep in mind the script was started just prior to the release of Halo 2 and has been under works since then.
Helljumper - Prologue
UNSCDF Special Forces Training Centre, Brisbane, Australia/ September 22nd, 2536 (Military Calender)
Colonel Ackerson reclined back in his chair and sighed. "What is the latest report?"
His executive officer, still standing at attention immediately replied, handing over the file that was tucked away under his arm. "70% casualty rate, most of them dead or dieing."
Ackerson raised an eyebrow and looked up at Major Scott. "And Captain Chaffee?"
The Major again gave an emotionless reply. "His drop pod collided with another on the way in, he never touched the ground."
Good men were hard to come by these days. So many had died since the invasion of the inner colonies that it was useless to get upset over the death of one, a dozen, or even a hundred. The loss of a full battalion had become common, even losing an entire regiment wasn't unheard of.
Colonel Ackerson's 89th Regiment was especially hit hard by recent action. All other units had been pulled back from the outer colonies and to Reach for R&R and more training in ship infiltration, leaving only the 89th and two other regiments on active duty when the first Covenant warships entered the inner colonies.
Ackeron realized this, and gave another sigh before stating the obvious. "That was our last combat ready battalion. We've lost nearly all of our officers." Ackerson paused, contemplating that maybe all was lost, but he quickly snapped out of it. The mere thought of being outdone by Spartans, by freak soldiers made him as furious as the thought of Earth or Reach being glassed. "Major, we need replacements. Go through the files of the special forces candidates, I don't care what you have to do, get some damned replacements or command will scrap the helljumpers for good."
Major Scott had been one step ahead of the game "I've already got a list of candidates ready."
Ackerson gave a boyish grin. "Good to see you're on top of things, how many do you have?"
Scott opened a file and flipped through a few papers for a moment before finding the one he needed. "I have about four hundred, and an additional thirty officers."
Ackerson sat forward and looked at Scott with great intensity. "Have you spoken with any of them?"
"Yes sir I have, most of the enlisted seemed eager to join, some of the officers seemed somewhat more reluctant. I've got a candidate that I am particularly interested in however."
"Who is it?" Ackerson inquired, now greatly intrigued.
"He's a lieutenant in the 388th Infantry Battalion, Charlie Company."
Ackerson raised an eyebrow again. "Isn't that one of the battalions that went in to relieve Chaffee's battalion?"
Scott smiled, "Yes, yes it was."
Ackerson was sceptical "I thought they were isolated by the Covenant and destroyed?"
The Major kept his smile, "It was, he was the only survivor. His dropship was shot down as it was attempting to break through Covenant air defences and reach friendly lines. He somehow survived the crash, took out several Covenant patrols and then stole a Covenant troop carrier, AND returned to our lines, all in the same day."
Ackerson laughed."Sounds like a natural born killer, and yet he was one who was reluctant to join?"
Major Scott dropped his head and started to laugh. "No, He flat out refused to join."
When Colonel Ackerson finds something he wants, he gets it, at any cost.
"Sounds like an underachiever. I'll get the new recruits, but I want you to deal with this Lieutenant."
Major Scott whistled as his warthog approached the UNSC compound. Several dropships flew in to drop off wounded from the starships returning from combat. Surprisingly, their were very few. Sadly this was because most were killed or vented out into space and the bodies could not be recovered, or even more common the UNSC had lost the battles and simply could not return for their fallen comrades.
The Warthog approached the base entrance, waited for security clearance, and then proceeded into the compound once granted access. It drove past several medical barracks, with rows of body bags beside them. The recent offensive had caught the UNSC off guard and they were paying for it in military personnel as well as territory and civillians. Two, maybe three billion were dead just as of the beginning of the year, doubling the total casulalties of the 16 year war. UNSC officials had kept things under wraps, thanks largely in part to ONI, who portrayed disastrous offensives as gallant battles that halted massive Covenant offensives.
The harsh reality of it all was the UNSC was the one launching the massive offensives, and they were being stopped cold by a few Covenant task forces which could rapidly move between star systems and meet the UNSC anywhere they attacked, and then counter attack against another UNSC world and glass it. This had been going on since march, the UNSC had suffered 34 ships-of-the-line destroyed, and another 92 damaged, 13 of those being unrepairable. This represented one fifth of the total UNSC navy, the number of lives lost told an even more horrific story. The draft was re-instated as of July 2nd, and all outer colony persons capable of combat between the age of 17 and 35 were called into service. They wouldn't be ready until next year when they completed training on Reach, so until then the UNSC had to make due with what it had. Right now that wasn't much.
The Warthog stopped at a vacant building on the north west corner of the compound. The Major dismounted and stepped inside, motioning for his guards to remain at the door.
Scott opened the door, revealing a totally abandoned barrack, save for one man.
"Lieutenant Antonio Silva reporting as ordered."
Scott turned to face the man, standing a mere five feet from the door. He had been at attention even as Scott entered the room.
"Thank you Lieutenant. I believe you know why I am here." Scott replied.
"Yes sir."
"You've been offered an assignment with the 305th Helljumper Battalion, but you refused it. Why?" Scott seemed agitated at best.
"Casualty rate." The young lieutenant quipped.
"Excuse me?" Scott seemed baffled.
"Casualty rate is too high, I hear that only about 60% survive their first operation." Silva remained short and crisp.
"I see, well it doesn't look like your battalion did so well in the last operation it was in. All dead but you."
"No sir."
"Lieutenant, let me put this in idiot terms so you can understand it. UNSC Command is going to read the report on this operation, they are going to read your little story, and do you know what they are going to think?"
"No sir."
"That you are a damned traitor. Everyone dead but you, and somehow you not only manage to take out several enemy elites, but also steal an enemy troop carrier and sneak past enemy lines."
"I'm not traitor." Silva remained calm.
"Sure you aren't Lieutenant." The Major had an excellent gift for being sarcastic.
"It's the truth."
"You've only got one way to prove it. You can join us, or this report is going to command."
"Why, I oughta shoot you right now!" Silva finally lost his temper, and leveled his sidearm.
"That should solve your problems. You'll look like a real hero, I'll bet they'll give you the Colonial Medal of Honour for shooting me."
"You bastard, you can't do this!" Silva kept his weapon pointed at the Major.
"You're wrong, I can. Now put the gun down or point it in the other direction. You've only got three ways out of this building, with me, with my guards, or in a body bag."
"I'll be waiting outside, if you aren't out in 5 minutes, I'll send my guards in to take care of you."
Major Scott turned and left, leaving Silva standing in disbelief.
After two minutes Silva finally emerged from the building, with a bag of his personal belongings and his weapons.
"I see you decided to join me in this life time. Now get in back, I hope you packed for a long trip, I don't think you'll be seeing much except my boot when we reach our training grounds."
