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Resurrection (I cannot raise the dead)

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Legacy, it's what we leave behind. And more importantly, it's who we leave behind. What good is it to gain the world but lose that which matters most? Family, family is everything. And the lessons learnt being passed down through the generations.
Chapter 1 New

MarkWarrior

Not too sore, are you?
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"Relics of the past are what bring us into the future. They secure us, they ground us, they hold a history that lasts through the ages, and sometimes they return to relevance.

The rock has been a staple of human violence since man first made war with fellow man. And no matter how we try to advance, almost everything comes down to transferring that rock (and the momentum, mass, and other factors) into or through another being.

It began with the sling and the spear, with a sling, you could move a rock far away, and cause extreme damage. With the spear, you could create distance and use the rock up close.

But as time advanced, and technology grew, we figured out how to break open the rocks, and to use what lay inside, the bronze, the iron, and the other metals that became the standards.

And progress continued, in spite of war, famine, and other disasters. Mankind eventually figured out how to do more with the rock, they figured out how to make it fly through the air. And one day, they achieved the impossible with the rocks. With great flames that burned fuel, they sent the rocks, (And the people carried by them) into the great void that surrounded our home.

Earth, and all that was upon it lay below. But that was not the end of progress. For you see, in April of 2291, the Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine was developed and the doors to the rest of the galaxy were opened.

And life continued for Humanity, but we did not know the darkness that awaited us in the shadows. For you see, five years go, we met something, something that sought our end. And though our foe is fierce, I think that we can stand. I think that we can fight, and even win. Because everything, comes down to who can make the biggest rock hit the hardest."

"Thank you for that essay, Alan," Nancy Faircloth smiled at the preteen as she gestured for him to sit back down at his desk. "Does anyone else want to read theirs out loud?"

As she asked this, the bell rang and the kids began to stand up.

"Alan," Nancy called out. "Please stay behind for a moment, I want to talk about this."

"Yes, ma'am," the boy replied, his backpack slung over one shoulder as he waited for the rest of his classmates to leave. "Did I do something wrong, ma'am?"

"Alan, the contents of your essay concern me a bit," the old woman sighed as she looked at the honest smile of one of her favorite students. "Is your father letting you watch the UNSC broadcasts of the war again?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alan nodded. "We need to be prepared, is what pops says. That the war might come for us when we least expect it."

"I'll have to talk to him again," she shook her head. "He knows not to be filling your head with nonsense."

"S'not nonsense. And I'm the one that asked to know," Alan protested.

"Fine," Nancy pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the headache she could feel coming. "But I want you to rewrite this essay, you didn't use the topics listed. And please stop focusing on the war. You've got a chance at a really great future if you put your mind to it."







"I'm home!" Alan called out as he slipped off his shoes at the door and hung his backpack and key on the rack next to the door.

"Hey son," his father stepped out into the hallway, wiping dirty hands off onto an apron. "You're a bit late today, your sisters already finished up and are working in the garden."

"Miss Faircloth wanted to talk again," Alan frowned. "She says she doesn't like that we watch the UNSC broadcasts on the war."

"It's the fastest way to figure out where your mother is stationed," Adam shrugged. "And I'm not going to hide reality from y'all. I served my time in war, and I can feel another one coming."

The UNSC Army veteran tapped his prosthetic leg before smiling.

"But I think we're safe for a while longer, now go get your chores done and then collect your sisters. We got a letter from her today."

"We did?!" Alan's eyes grew wide as he processed that. "I'll finish up the chores."

Alan stumbled into his boots and raced outside to join his sisters in taking care of the family farm.

"Guys, we need to hurry up, dad's got a letter from mom!" he yelled out as he raced to the chicken pen.

"We know," the older twin rolled her eyes before continuing her chores. "We're already almost done, you're the one that's running late."

After they finished the busywork of the afterschool farm chores, the trio gathered in the livingroom where their father was waiting.

"She sent us a video message and a handwritten letter," the veteran smiled and sat down, his three kids piling into his lap even though they were too big for it. "Which do you want to start with?"

"The letter," the girls and Alan said at the same time, the excited grins on their faces matching as their father carefully opened the envelope.

"Adam, Alan, Evelyn, and Jasmine,

I miss you guys. I know it's been a rough couple of years. But what I'm doing is important. I have a responsibility to fulfil here. The UNSC payed for my schooling and as an activated Reservist, I owe it to them to finish this out. I love you guys and I love seeing the letters that you guys send me. They're what keep me going through the days when it's hard.

Alan, you're growing into such a good young man, and I know that you're learning good lessons from your father. Evelyn, Jasmine, you're nearly grown women now, and I know that your father is already having to fight off the boys.

Girls, I'm sorry that I'm not going to be there for homecoming and prom. I know that we had hoped my deployment would be over in time for that, but things didn't work out that way. Hopefully everything works out and I'll see all of you by the end of the year."

Adam paused in reading the letter to wipe a small tear from his face as he pulled his daughters in close.

"And finally, to my beloved Husband. I love you, thank you for being so strong and taking care of our family. I know that you sometimes feel like you're not doing enough, that you should be serving here with me. But I want you to know that you're doing more right now than I am. Our future is in our children. And they need the stability that their father brings."

A few tear stains were on the letter at that point, the old watermarks from where Emily had cried while writing.

"I love all of you, and I'll see you all for Christmas,

Love,

Emily Heathcliffe.

PS. Kiddos, try to take it a bit easy on your father. He's good at hiding how hard it is sometimes, and he does his best. So try to remember that even when it feels like he's being old and stuffy, that he's trying to look out for all of you."

After folding the letter up and setting it back into the envelope, Adam passed it to Alan and gestured for the steel box that was above their fireplace.

Alan stood and gently picked up the box and opened it, placing the letter with the others in the velvet and wooden interior of the box. Then, he set it up next to the old Relic that hung next to it.

"Now, time for the video message," Adam stood and pushed the crystalline storage device into the screen that was offset in the corner. "Let's see how your mother is doing."






Later that night…

"Hey buddy," Adam greeted Alan from where he sat on the couch. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Never can after a letter from mom," Alan sat down. "I always feel like I need to go outside and try to figure out where she is."

"Well, I was about to do some maintenance anyway," Adam stood and gathered some tools and the relic off of the rack above the fireplace. "Let's do it together."

Together, father and son stepped out onto the front porch and sat down in the few chairs that were there.

"I'll get the switch," Alan flipped a switch and part of the roof retracted, revealing the stars and Ehilend, the lone moon.

"So, she was at Reach," Adam said as he pulled the relic of a bygone era apart and began to clean it. "Can you tell me where that is in relation to us here on Eridanus II?"

"It should be about… There!" Alan pointed to a lone star amidst the millions of pinpricks.

"You're close," Adam glanced up. "But you're a few stars off. Still, great job," he ruffled his son's hair. "But we don't know where her ship has been moved to, so she could be at any one of those stars."

"I know," Alan sighed, his face seemingly older than he actually was for a few seconds before he noticed what his father was doing.

"Are we going to the range soon?" he asked.

"No," his father replied as he finished stripping the M1911 and began cleaning it. "I just have a bad feeling."

"Then why clean that instead of the other guns?" Alan asked.

"Because history is important," Adam smiled. "This weapon doesn't compare to the weapons that we use today, it's old, not as efficient, and doesn't hit as hard. But, this has been in our family for six hundred years and it's saved more than one life in that time period. This is a relic of our past, but it's also a symbol. Do you remember the first lesson I taught you and your sisters about the farm?"

"Take care of your tools, and your animals and they'll take care of you," Evelyn stepped outside, with her sister, a light jacket wrapped around her as she and Jasmine joined the two boys.

"That's right," Adam smiled at his children. "It's one of the most important lessons I have to teach y'all. And this, as well as everything else in the safe is another tool that we have available to use."

The three then lounged around their father as he explained the family history, of how the generations of Heathcliffes had passed down the important lessons, of self-sufficiency, of taking responsibility for your own actions, and of caring for your family.

And eventually, they all fell asleep. The pile of them snoring underneath the stars while Adam held vigil.

But as he looked out in the darkness of the night, he felt it in his bones, something dark was coming, and right below the stump of his left leg, where the prosthetic met flesh, he could feel the pain coming back as if the injury were new.

Grimacing, he grabbed onto an old wooden crucifix and looked towards the stars once more. He whispered a prayer and shifted into a more comfortable position.

Tonight was a night for his family. And it didn't matter where they lay their heads for the night as long as they were together.
 
Halo fic from mark? Sign me in! Not many halo fics flying around so im definitely glad to see this and hoping to see some more. Humanity in Halo is so heavily underdog and needs to rise to the challenge like rocky. Keep the eye on the tiger!
 
Ooh nice a Halo fic, yikes the mother is stationed on Reach.

Yh if your not stationed Somewhere you can get evacuated asap the. Your doomed but you never know, she could survive that mess
 
Chapter 2 New
Chapter 2

The next morning started with groans and complaints as the two teenagers and their younger brother finally began to shift.

"Dad, why'd you let us sleep like that?" Jasmine whined. "Now my neck hurts."

"You all looked so peaceful," Alan smile at his trio of kiddos. "I couldn't bear to wake any of you up."

The innocent look in his eye seemed to turn devilish when he raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"By the way, it's already seven o'clock," his smirk turned into a grin at their horror. "That means you've got an hour to see to your chores and get ready for school."

"Dad!" Evelyn jolted up. "We're going to be late!

"I can get y'all to school," Alan looked at all three of his kids. "Or, you can all skip class today and after you're done with your chores we can do something else as a family."

They didn't even spend a minute considering the options.

"Stay home," all three of them replied.

"That's what I thought," Alan smiled. "Let's get the animals taken care of and then clean up for breakfast. I'm thinking we can watch some movies afterwards."

The kids dispersed to do their chores and Alan groaned and finally stood up. His prosthetic itched and where it met the stump of his leg it was slightly irritated.

"Gonna have to clean that," he grunted to himself. "Don't want it to get infected."

He limped into the kitchen and began pulling out the ingredients for breakfast. It was definitely a day for a big meal.

Around thirty minutes later, the twins piled into the kitchen.

"Go wash up," Alan ordered. "I'm almost done here."

He pulled the last few waffles off of the iron and set them on a massive serving plate.

Alan stuck his head out o the door and looked towards the pasture. "Adam, get in here, it's time for breakfast!"

"Coming!" the preteen yelled back, his figure appearing across the fields as he ran back.

"Sorry," he gasped. "Chuck managed to break the fence into the fallow pasture."

"You pen him up?"

"Yessir," the boy replied.

"Good, now go wash up, breakfast is on the table."

Adam rushed in and began washing his hands as Alan shut the door behind him.

The family sat down at the table and began to eat, Alan asking after specific parts of the chores while they began to plan the rest of their day.







Xevo Lucamee looked out over his squad. The Elite Minor nodded in satisfaction as the Grunts and Jackals checked over their gear. He had served with these warriors for years now, and they had bonded well.

He spread his mandibles in a smile as he checked over his own kit, his Rifle was in good condition, and there, side by side lay his blade and that of his ancestors. He had forged his own replica, as his father had before him. But there was something about the design and structure of the ancient energy sword that spoke to him.

It reminded him of learning from his Grandfather. Of the statutes and traditions of House Lucam that were passed down from generation to generation, repeating endlessly for all of time.

His body stilled as he settled into a meditative stance and he reverently grabbed the ancient handle, and pulled a small rag out and some polishing oil out of a nearby locker.

"Must you always do this before we enter battle?" Taz Kec, the Kig-Yar sergeant grumbling at Xevo.

"It is important to honor our traditions," Xevo opened his eyes and smiled at his friend. "Is it not you who refuses to eat fresh food before an operation?"

"Every time I eat fresh fish before we go planetside bad things happen," Kec snarled. "It's not my fault that the gods have it out for me!"

"You keep to your traditions (and your ration blocks) and I shall keep to my own."

"I heard that," Kec snarked. "You laugh now, but if I eat the ration block everything will go well. Even if I hate the way that they taste."

"We shall see how things go once we arrive planetside," Xevo smiled. "The heretics have put up quite the fight as of late."

"I still do not understand why we war against them," Kec looked around to make sure they weren't overheard by a Commisar. "Every other species has been given an opportunity to join the Covenant. Even the Jiralhanae, brutes that they are," he spat. "Why should we not allow such a species as this the chance as well?"

"It is not our place to decide," Xevo sighed. "Besides, you and I are sworn to uphold our duties until our contracts are up. Then we may decide what it is we wish to do with our lives."

"I'm just here to get paid," Kec laughed. "After it's all said and done, I'll retire on some planet with nice waves and some ladies. I might even leave a spot open for my friends."

"Aye," Xevo laughed. "It shall be good for us both!"

Xevo put his ancestor's energy blade handle away and turned to the other Unggoy and Kig-Yar that made up his squad.

"Come, let us check over your gear before we drop," he began doing thorough inspections of each combat harness. "Ensure your gas seals are adequate. Our foe has learned well, and will not hesitate to end you if he faces you in combat."







Alan and the kids were snuggled up on the couch when the television flickered into an emergency broadcast.

"We interrupt all programming to give a warning," the calm voice of the Eridanus II Superintendent Class AI spoke. "The Covenant have entered the system, please make way to the designated shelters and evacuation routes. This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill.'

The movie didn't flicker back in, instead the message repeated.

"Dad?" Evelyn looked up at her father.

"Girls, go get the go-bags," Alan's eyes were shut. "Adam, go to the safe and get out the rifles and vests. We don't want to hurt anyone, but people will act crazy because of this scenario. And we want them to know that harming us is not a wise decision."

Alan stood up from the couch.

"I'm going to get the food and water supplies ordered, and then we're going to open all of the gates. Hopefully we'll give the animals a chance at survival."

The twins faces vanished up the stairs while Alan moved to the master bedroom and began opening the gun safe.

Each member of the family did their task with efficiency borne of practice. Ever since Emily had been deployed, Alan had been going through drills with his kids.

While the UNSC filtered out information that was sent back home, he and Emily had long since worked out key phrases and words that seemed innocuous but meant specific details to each other. Over the last few years, she had been relaying information on exactly what the alien menace was doing to the worlds they encountered.

So he'd put a plan in place, he'd told his kids the truth, and they'd worked on practicing said plan in case the worst happened.

"Go bags are ready dad," Jasmine jumped down the last few steps with two duffle bags in her hands, a set of practical clothes on. "Evelyn's making sure that we didn't miss anything."

"Go get your kit on," Alan grabbed the bags and began walking to the outside door. "We're about to leave and head for the shuttles."

Evelyn soon joined her twin in getting the vests with ceramic plates on.

"Dad, you want the 2B, or one of the 3s?" Adam asked.

"Gimme the two," Alan called back from the truck. "And make sure the mag's loaded with the black tips!"

After securing the go bags, Alan walked inside and told his kids to go let the animals around the farm loose.

While they did that, he took a deep breath and began to put on his old UNSC Army kit, the armor locking into place as he grabbed his old service rifle and slung it onto his back.

Securing his magazines, he nodded as he pulled his shooting glasses over his eyes. The HUD began lighting up and synchronizing with his old Neural interface and his rifle.

When he stepped out of the master bedroom, he grabbed the case off the mantle and set it gently into a backpack. Then he grabbed the ancient handgun and the box below it.

Loading the seven round magazines, he secured the sidearm into a holster and pocketed the remaining magazines. It was safer on his hip than it was anywhere else. If it was on his hip, then it couldn't be left behind.

He opened the door and looked at the concerned faces of his children.

"Everything ready?" He asked.

The three nodded.

"C'mere," Alan pulled them all into hugs. "I know that it hurts. We get attached to places, to things. They're ours, we worked hard for them, we built them. But in the end, all of this," he gestured to the farm behind him. "That can be replaced. What I can't replace, is all of you," he squeezed them tight. "One day, we'll come back here, but right now we need to leave so that we get the chance to come back at all."

Alan smiled sadly as he wiped a few tears from the kid's cheeks.

"You're all so brave," he released them and gestured for them to get into the truck. "I love you, so so much."

But Alan could feel the war coming, his stump itched, and the atmosphere had shifted. He could smell it, the desperate war that was soon to come, the death, the decay, and everything else that would come with war.

Before he climbed into the driver's seat, Alan looked up into the sky. He had no idea how long it would be before the enemy arrived.




The year, is 2530. Eridanus II has been found by the Covenant, and few, if any will escape.
 
Last edited:
bit wild to read with so many spaces between lines
 
Copy paste error. I'll fix it in a bit.
Way better now. A bit of a buildup in this chap made my anticipation spike up. Now i have to refresh this fic constantly hoping for new content. Good writer making readers emotions do a rollercoaster
 
Chapter 3 New
Chapter 3

"Evelyn, I need you to pull the truck around to the evaluation shuttles," Alan hopped out of the truck, his rifle hanging from his chest on a sling. "I'll make sure that you three get on board."

The oldest of his three children nodded and slid over into the driver's side of the vehicle while he waved them towards the spaceport in the distance.

"Where are you going?" Jasmine asked.

"I'm going to speak to the guy who owns the spaceport. We served together, so I should be able to get things sorted out. Just pull around to the parking lot and make sure that the gear is safe."

The truck pulled away and Alan limped into the spaceport, the streams of people making way for the heavily armed and armored man.

"Alan, good to see you," a spaceport security officer stepped in front of the veteran and clasped arms with him.

"Tim, is Ron still in charge?"

"Yessir," the shorter man nodded. "He said we'd probably see you around once we detected the ships."

"I'm making sure my family gets out," Alan and Tim began walking to the nearby office. "How're the wife and kids?"

"Spaceport staff families are some of the first people we're loading up," Tim confirmed. "We want to save as many people as we can, but our own families are important to."

They stopped at the door and Tim knocked, the office door sliding open and revealing an old man sitting at a desk.

"Captain," Alan nodded as he and tim stepped into the room.

"Alan, I figured I'd see you," the bald man smiled wryly. "I already know why you're here, and no, this doesn't make us even. I still owe you one."

"I already told you, sir," Alan grinned back. "You don't owe me a damned thing."

"Regardless, we're gonna need your help," Ron stood up, the UNSC officer's handgun on his hip showing how serious he was taking this.

"Crowd control or defense?" Alan gestured to the rifle slung over his chest. "I brought some extra firepower if the UNSC doesn't have anyone extra to spare."

"We've got our own armory," Ron replied. "It's not the most modern gear, but it'll do the job."

"Well, I can start getting defensive positions set up," Alan offered. "But I want to make sure that my kids are on one of the ships."

"The first three are already packed to the gills," Ron sighed. "They'll have to be on one of the next batches of ships."

"That's fine, just let me know where you want me, and I'll get started."







"Colonel Wilkins," Ron nodded at the UNSC Army officer as he entered the spaceport. "My people are at your disposal."

"I can see that you've already gotten defensive positions set up," the colonel sighed. "The Navy put up a good fight, but we're going to have to set up shop here."

"I hope you brought some triple A," Ron glanced at the weary Army soldiers. "We don't have any anti-aircraft capability here."

"We have some, but our goal is simply to make sure that the evac centers are clear while we try to pull out," Wilkins looked around to make sure that there weren't any civilians listening in before leaning in. "We're pretty much damned here. The Navy did a helluva lot, but we're going to be lucky if we manage to get the rest of the evac ships out."

"Sir, we've got enemy dropships moving into the city outskirts!" an NCO ran in.

"Let's get moving people! Get those anti-aircraft guns up and move the Scorpions into position!" Wilkins ordered, standing up and pulling a cigarette out of his pouch, lighting it as he walked out of the spaceport. "And get me a line to FLEETCOM. I want to know how many ships we have left in orbit. We've gotta coordinate this evacuation."







Xevo Lucamee looked at his squad as they moved through the empty streets of this human city.

"Such a shame we've gotta class all this shit," Taz Kec kicked the side of a building. "Yknow how much one of these buildings would sell for on the open market back home?"

"Aye," Xevo flared his mandibles. "I do not like such destruction, but mayhaps we will only glass a portion of this world."

"Gamma(1) squadron," the platoon leader barked over the Battlenet. "We have found the last of the major holdouts, report to navigation point Epsilon."

"That is across the city, Major, we will require transport," Xevo replied.

"I have dispatched a Ruwaa pattern to come and retrieve your squad. We shall all converge on the enemy position and eliminate them."

"I don't like this," Kec sighed. "I have a feeling that this is going to go poorly for us."

"Their warships have been destroyed," Xevo shook his head. "We will carry the day."

So the squad waited, the buildings standing tall and silent, dedicated to those who had built them but were no longer present.

Soon though, the hum of the antigravity pods was heard as a Ruwaa pattern Shadow pulled up, the vehicle lowering the troop bays and allowing Xevo's squad to board and strap themselves in.

"Xevo, it is good to see you again!" the Sangheili pilot spread his mandibles in a grin. "I did not know that you had been deployed to this world!"

"I serve as I am requested," Xevo replied. "My term of service expires soon, but until that is completed, I am present."

The Shadow then sped up and joined in formation with the rest of the ground troops, the few vehicles that stood in their way being shoved out of the way through the impact of the heavier vehicle.

"We move for the spaceport! They shall not evade our holy blades!" the platoon leader declared. "Today, we prove our dedication to our Blessed Covenant!"




Alan ducked underneath a bright green bolt and held down the trigger on his MA2B. The rounds smashing against and then through one of the larger Alien's odd shimmering shield before a round from a nearby Marksman took his head off.

"Good shots!" the designated Marksman gave the old veteran a thumbs up before a giant pink needle lodged itself into his brainpan and detonated.

"Sniper! Get down!" Alan yelled, ducking beneath sandbags as he ejected a magazine, ramming a new one into the magwell and slamming his bolt forward.

Standing back up, he fired short controlled bursts at some of the stockier aliens, the tubes that fed them the gasses they desperately needed shattering and leaving them to roll on the ground in a panic.

"Pull back!" Alan roared, grabbing a wounded man in UNSC Army green and dragging him back to the secondary lines. "Back to rally point Bravo!"

"Alan, the last ship is about to leave," Ron, Alan's old CO locked eyes with the old veteran. "If you're going to get offworld, you need to start heading that way now."

"Right," Alan exhaled long and slow. "I should say goodbye to the kids, just in case."

Rubbing at the stump and prosthetic, Alan continued moving back through the lines before arriving at the line to board the last ship.

"Dad!" Jasmine yelled and hugged her father. "We're boarding the last ship, now."

"I know," Alan pulled her in and kissed her forehead. "I'm here to make sure that all three of you make it onboard."

As the line moved forward, Alan could hear the desperate cries for help and of the men and women dying to preserve their lives, and as they reached the doors, the comms went silent aside from the few anti-ship and anti-aircraft batteries that remained.

"I love you," Alan whispered to all three of his children, pushing them forward into the ship and locking the door behind them.

His heart pounded in his chest as he locked eyes with his kids through the transparent metal that made up the viewport.

"I love you," he placed his hand on the glass as a tear trickled down his cheek. His girls weeping while Adam stood with clenched fists and fought off his own tears,

Turning, Alan clenched his jaw and wiped the tear from his eye before shouldering his rifle.

Raising a fist, he hammered on the ship door behind him, signaling that they needed to begin taking off.

The sound of thrusters filled the spaceport and Alan took up a fighting position. His family was alive, and that was what was most important here.

"Two mags left in the rifle," he muttered as he checked his ammo counter and his chest rig. "And whatever I've got left in the old girl."

The bulkhead doors then blew inwards and Alan began to open fire, every round had to count, so he made sure that he placed them exactly where they needed to go.

The first group of aliens to break through didn't live very long. But halfway through the second, Alan ran out of ammunition and the bolt locked back on his rifle. Drawing the M1911, he advanced, the smaller rounds seeming to do nothing to the small aliens, but they seemed to at least spark against the shields of the large one.

One plasma bolt struck, and his armor began to melt into slag but he fought through the pain, reloaded the pistol and fired again, and again, the shimmer sparked before finally dying away.

And on the last round, the slide locked back, and both fell, human and alien alike.
 

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