Xtreme TACTICS 101
Well-Known Member
Hey everyone,
I have had a “Top Secret” fan-made short film in the works for a while now, and I thought it is about time I posted something about it.
Over the past few months I have been revising and editing a 60-90 minute film script about two squads of ODST’s on a search and destroy mission. After reviewing possible film costs, and taking the risks of lawsuits, funding and so on into account, I decided it would not be smart to make a full length film. It would be better to take a small fragment from the script, and create a short film about that particular section. I could then come back later if the short film was a success and make the full version of the film with that short film included.
Instead of posting a script (I would prefer not to post one to make sure nobody steals it) I have posted a short story completely based on the script. Just a warning to those of you that plan to read the short story, it is very descriptive and graphic (There is also a small swear word or two, but nothing a 10 year-old can‘t handle). Read at your own risk.
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Contact
Halo Short-Film
Sprinting hard, my throat began to burn. My constant panting for breath with every stride I took was pure agony. I looked ahead towards Welsh as he sprinted in front of me between the confining walls of the trench. I stumbled as I caught up to him, I pushed off his back and regained balance just as a thunderous screech followed by an explosion sounded beside us.
Welsh flew into the trench wall as I was thrown forward by the sheer jolt the artillery shell gave me. My helmet flew off and rolled to a halt a meter from my body. I grunted as I rolled off my side and crawled on my knees to retrieve my helmet. I grabbed it and slipped it on.
I looked toward Welsh who was already on his feet running towards me. I began to stand up as the ringing in my ears began to climax. Welsh reached me, and I heard a faint voice statically buzz through my comm channel. As Welsh grabbed me by the shoulder to keep me moving, his voice finally penetrated the ringing of my ears.
“We need to move now Sergeant!” He screamed as he partly dragged me to my feet. Bewildered by my own movements, I sprinted onward faster then before. My adrenaline pumping, and my heart racing. I looked ahead of us to see Dunham taking cover behind the trench wall, a digital “1BN/4U” marked above his helmet by my HUD. He peeked around the corner with his MA37 shouldered as he took pop shots at the approaching enemy squad. Numerous small explosions of dirt and snow burst from the corner of the trench as Dunham ducked back into cover.
I dove into cover beside him as Welsh closely followed. “Dunham, what’s your situation?” I yelled as I tapped Welsh’s shoulder and signaled for him to keep pressure on the Insurrectionists approaching our position. Welsh shouldered his DMR and popped his head over the top of the trench to suppress the Insurrectionists. Empty shell casings, dirt and snow began to rain down on me.
“We have been met with heavy enemy resistance, more so then Intel had warned us, Sergeant!” Dunham screamed as he held his helmet atop his head attempting to shield himself from flying debris and shell casings. “They have an armored unit and mortar support. I have no contact with Second Squad, or O’ Connell. This is a god damn mess Sergeant!”
“Copy that Private. Where’s Crawford?” I inquired through gritted teeth. I quickly looked at my DMR’s ammo counter. The bright blue holographic panel read zero. I ejected the spent magazine from the rifle and yanked back the charging handle. I looked down at the remaining four matt black magazines in my chest ring of magazine pouches. Quickly, I reached for another magazine from one of the remaining four magazines, and reared up my DMR as I smacked the magazine on my helmet. I slid the magazine home, and with a metallic click, the ammunition coulter reset to read 15. I pushed the charging handle forward and adjusted my kneeling stance.
As I finished shuffling, a black, snow covered figure fell into the trench 5 feet from my position. “Crawford here Sergeant!” A relieved voice buzzed over my comm channel. He pushed himself into cover with his legs between me and Dunham. He quickly crouched down, and readied himself to aid Welsh with his attempt to slow down the pressing enemy squad.
I acknowledged Crawford’s presence and quickly looked over at Welsh. “Welsh, how many Insurrectionists on the other side?” I inquired. Welsh quickly slid back down into cover as he held up five fingers. I nodded and signaled for us to all throw grenades. I reached for one of my frags on my right shoulder strap, and yanked the pin out. I squeezed the primer, and threw the grenade just as the others did.
I heard scrambling and the screaming of grenade on the other side of the trench wall. I looked to my right just as one of our grenades was thrown back into Dunham’s lap. “Grenade!” I howled as I dove for cover. Dunham tossed the grenade around the corner of the trench nearly out of harms way just as it detonated in sequence with the three others. A bunch of screams were heard. I took my hands off my helmet and looked at Dunham. He was hit.
Multiple pools of blood began to form under Dunham as it seeped through his shattered right shin and thigh plates and BDU’s. As he lay on the ground, he pulled off his helmet and threw it to one side of him. He looked down, and astonished to find he was hit, proceeded to feel his peppered right leg as if he was in a nightmare and wanted so badly to wake up. The pain began to set in, and he began to mumble curse words and insults under his breath as he began to cough up blood. He began to shake as he forced himself into cover. He continued to look at his wounds, and whispered “Medic”. He looked towards me and yelped in agony “Medic!”
(Continued on next post…)
I have had a “Top Secret” fan-made short film in the works for a while now, and I thought it is about time I posted something about it.
Over the past few months I have been revising and editing a 60-90 minute film script about two squads of ODST’s on a search and destroy mission. After reviewing possible film costs, and taking the risks of lawsuits, funding and so on into account, I decided it would not be smart to make a full length film. It would be better to take a small fragment from the script, and create a short film about that particular section. I could then come back later if the short film was a success and make the full version of the film with that short film included.
Instead of posting a script (I would prefer not to post one to make sure nobody steals it) I have posted a short story completely based on the script. Just a warning to those of you that plan to read the short story, it is very descriptive and graphic (There is also a small swear word or two, but nothing a 10 year-old can‘t handle). Read at your own risk.
--------------------------------------------------
Contact
Halo Short-Film
Sprinting hard, my throat began to burn. My constant panting for breath with every stride I took was pure agony. I looked ahead towards Welsh as he sprinted in front of me between the confining walls of the trench. I stumbled as I caught up to him, I pushed off his back and regained balance just as a thunderous screech followed by an explosion sounded beside us.
Welsh flew into the trench wall as I was thrown forward by the sheer jolt the artillery shell gave me. My helmet flew off and rolled to a halt a meter from my body. I grunted as I rolled off my side and crawled on my knees to retrieve my helmet. I grabbed it and slipped it on.
I looked toward Welsh who was already on his feet running towards me. I began to stand up as the ringing in my ears began to climax. Welsh reached me, and I heard a faint voice statically buzz through my comm channel. As Welsh grabbed me by the shoulder to keep me moving, his voice finally penetrated the ringing of my ears.
“We need to move now Sergeant!” He screamed as he partly dragged me to my feet. Bewildered by my own movements, I sprinted onward faster then before. My adrenaline pumping, and my heart racing. I looked ahead of us to see Dunham taking cover behind the trench wall, a digital “1BN/4U” marked above his helmet by my HUD. He peeked around the corner with his MA37 shouldered as he took pop shots at the approaching enemy squad. Numerous small explosions of dirt and snow burst from the corner of the trench as Dunham ducked back into cover.
I dove into cover beside him as Welsh closely followed. “Dunham, what’s your situation?” I yelled as I tapped Welsh’s shoulder and signaled for him to keep pressure on the Insurrectionists approaching our position. Welsh shouldered his DMR and popped his head over the top of the trench to suppress the Insurrectionists. Empty shell casings, dirt and snow began to rain down on me.
“We have been met with heavy enemy resistance, more so then Intel had warned us, Sergeant!” Dunham screamed as he held his helmet atop his head attempting to shield himself from flying debris and shell casings. “They have an armored unit and mortar support. I have no contact with Second Squad, or O’ Connell. This is a god damn mess Sergeant!”
“Copy that Private. Where’s Crawford?” I inquired through gritted teeth. I quickly looked at my DMR’s ammo counter. The bright blue holographic panel read zero. I ejected the spent magazine from the rifle and yanked back the charging handle. I looked down at the remaining four matt black magazines in my chest ring of magazine pouches. Quickly, I reached for another magazine from one of the remaining four magazines, and reared up my DMR as I smacked the magazine on my helmet. I slid the magazine home, and with a metallic click, the ammunition coulter reset to read 15. I pushed the charging handle forward and adjusted my kneeling stance.
As I finished shuffling, a black, snow covered figure fell into the trench 5 feet from my position. “Crawford here Sergeant!” A relieved voice buzzed over my comm channel. He pushed himself into cover with his legs between me and Dunham. He quickly crouched down, and readied himself to aid Welsh with his attempt to slow down the pressing enemy squad.
I acknowledged Crawford’s presence and quickly looked over at Welsh. “Welsh, how many Insurrectionists on the other side?” I inquired. Welsh quickly slid back down into cover as he held up five fingers. I nodded and signaled for us to all throw grenades. I reached for one of my frags on my right shoulder strap, and yanked the pin out. I squeezed the primer, and threw the grenade just as the others did.
I heard scrambling and the screaming of grenade on the other side of the trench wall. I looked to my right just as one of our grenades was thrown back into Dunham’s lap. “Grenade!” I howled as I dove for cover. Dunham tossed the grenade around the corner of the trench nearly out of harms way just as it detonated in sequence with the three others. A bunch of screams were heard. I took my hands off my helmet and looked at Dunham. He was hit.
Multiple pools of blood began to form under Dunham as it seeped through his shattered right shin and thigh plates and BDU’s. As he lay on the ground, he pulled off his helmet and threw it to one side of him. He looked down, and astonished to find he was hit, proceeded to feel his peppered right leg as if he was in a nightmare and wanted so badly to wake up. The pain began to set in, and he began to mumble curse words and insults under his breath as he began to cough up blood. He began to shake as he forced himself into cover. He continued to look at his wounds, and whispered “Medic”. He looked towards me and yelped in agony “Medic!”
(Continued on next post…)