Lean, Green, And Very, Very Mean

Chapter 1: Prepare To Drop

There was something rather peaceful about the hum of a ship lulling one to sleep. Like a lullaby of machines all working together to create the perfect white noise, for the perfect nap. For the new Rookie of Alpha-Nine, the UNSC Say My Name provided said nap wonderfully as she rested against her drop pod with her arms and legs comfortably crossed. However, no rest could last forever.

The Rookie stirred as the ships emergency alarm wailed over the drop room. Whereas most might be groggy after their nap, the Rookie wasn't. She spent most of her time training, fighting, surfing the net, or sleeping. So for someone who spent a quarter of their day asleep, it wasn't hard to get up. Yet it took the whack of a rifle but to her hip to get her on her feet.

"Wake up Butter-Cup"

Lance Corporal Kojo "Romeo" Agu, the squad's marksman and overall 'smartass'. Ever since she was assigned to Alpha-Nine they hadn't played nice with each other. He was shoved aside by a brute of a man.

"Relax Rookie. He don't mean nothin'"

Corporal Taylor H. "Dutch" Miles, Alpha-Nines heavy weapons specialist and overall momma bear. Unlike Romeo, Dutch actually cared enough to be kind to her considering her… disability.

"Besides. Now's one of those times? Pays to be the strong, silent type." She was handed a special issue M7S Caseless SMG. Rare among the frontline grunts but common among special forces especially on missions which required a more discreet approach.

The Rookie stored the M7S securely in her pod than ran up to the armory station and grabbed all of her favorite weapons. A reliable M45E series 8 gauge pump-action shotgun, an M6 SOCOM pistol, and a BR55 battle rifle. And of course, her trusty combat knife. She stuffed them all in her pod wherever they could fit, and climbed in, waiting for the go sign.

"By the way just so you're in the know we got a new boss" Dutch informed thumbing at some blonde chick having a rather tense chat with the Gunny. "She's some spook from Naval Intelligence according to Gunny. We answer to her now" finished Dutch as he moved along towards his drop pod.

Great, just when I thought I was done dealing with ONI and its bullshit…

The Rookie settled into her pod and waited for only a moment before the pod door sealed. The pod shook as the bay clamps turned the pod around and lowered it to launch position. She could just about see the bright blue of Earth's atmosphere below her.

After doing a quick series of system checks the lights flickered on throughout the pod as well as on the two monitors that were placed on the hatch of the pod. Two figures came onto the screens one for each monitor. On the left was Gunnery Sergeant Buck, whom had apparently hand picked her for the assignment or so she was told. Miss Naval Intelligence on the right screen put doubt into that information.

Her helmets squad feed told her that the spook was Captain Dare, SN: 73398-38490-VD, ONI. Miss Naval Intelligence wore a strange set of ODST armor along with a helmet type she was not familiar with. Likely some top of the line ONI shit.

"Latest intel reports Covenant troops massing beneath the carrier." Informed the Captain.

"They're pulling-back? Why?" asked the Gunny confused like the rest of them. The Covenant had already broken New Mombasa's defenses and so had little reason to fall back beneath the carrier's protection. Unless they were prepping to bug out.

Doubtful, the Covenant never retreat.

"We're not going to find out way up here."

The pods shook again, and a series of green lights flashed above each pod.

"Troopers! We are green – and very, very mean!"

A small bump was felt, and a countdown timer began to read off the seconds till inevitable death, or one of the craziest theories she had ever heard becoming realized. 5... 4... 3... 2... 1 The Rookie always thought that pause between 1 and launch was longer than the rest. Like reaching 100% takes twice as long as reaching 99%.

Launch.

Her pod dropped, and she saw many other do the same. For a second, there was that amazing feeling of weightlessness and adrenaline pumping through her body. But as normal, it dissipated in a few seconds. She took manual control of her pod as was routine too, but this was in fact, a very bad move this time.

As they began to fall through the debris of the Home Fleet, she skidded off course to avoid crashing into the debris and blowing up like a few of the other pods had done. After a few manual course corrections she was back on target towards the carrier, abet further ahead than the rest of Alpha-Nine.

"Rookie, you need to use your stabilizers and match your trajectory with ours!" Commanded the Captain.

A brief check on the trajectory of the rest of Alpha-Nine showed that they were way off course from the carrier. If she had paid attention to the conversation she'd have known that Dare changed their mission. Instead the Rookie ignored the Captains order to redirect and continued course.

"Rookie, change course." This time the order came from the Gunny.

"Radiation!" Alerted Dutch, warning the squad of the hazard.

"Did we just set off a nuke?!"

"No. The carriers going to… Jump!"

What?!

"It's a slip-space rupture! Rookie you need to-!"

The Rookies eyes widened as the blue slip space portal expanded towards her.

Well… shit

Slip space was a tricky thing. It was essentially space magic in a way for most Luddites, working when a translight engine creates ruptures, referred to by some as wormholes, between normal space and an alternate plane known as slipspace or slipstream. Through that tear a ship would travel to its destination, slowly. However, and this is important the translight engine generates a quantum field, which prevents the ship and its occupants from being directly exposed to the eleven-dimensional space-time of slipspace, instead translating the ship's presence to the foreign physics of the Slipstream and "squeezing" it through the higher dimensions. Maintaining the quantum field requires an enormous amount of constant calculations, with larger vessels requiring significantly more such calculations than smaller ones.

So, for a single manned drop pod falling into a slip space rupture unplanned, without any calculations, the odds were rather… well shit. Where it would go was randomized, possibly not even to slip space. The odds of the occupant surviving even in a full planned jump were 0.01%. And yet, in this most unlikely of situations, those odds were beaten. The pod fell through the portal, causing the occupant to fall into instant unconsciousness.

…

…

…

Time passed and the Rookie awoke in her pod as a small warning chime sounded over the speakers. This time she was groggy. Probably because she just made a drop onto the city unconscious. She tried to open her pod door, but soon realized the pod was stuck facing into a building.

Well at least I didn't end up in Oblivion… Huzzah.

She sighed and keyed in the emergency door release. She waited a moment and then the door blew outwards into the building with enough force to allow the rest of the pod to fall backward out of the building and onto a hopefully not too far street below.

The pod fell with a crash on its back onto an empty street. Her brief victory was short lived as she saw the night sky above her.

Uh oh, how long was I out? The Gunny ain't going to be happy about this.

She put her hands around the edges of the pod to pull herself up, and when she did, she almost wished she hadn't. Standing in front of a store were a group of fancy dressed men wearing black suits with red ties, and red shades. All holding oversized handguns at her.

"Well now this is a surprise!" spoke a flamboyant ginger with a cane walking through the group of men towards her. He stopped just outside the pod, leaned against his cane and peered down at her. "You know, when I started this day my schedule was rather simple. Wake up, drink some nice fresh brewed tea, order a new box of Vacuon cigars, rob a few Dust stores, then finish it all off with a nice glass of whiskey at the club."

What on Earth is this fashion show, mascara wearing weirdo going on about? Drinks at the club? Doesn't he know they are being invaded by the fucking Covenant! Wait what was that about robbing stores?

The scene began to make sense to her as she put the pieces together. A group of armed men standing outside of a store with expensive looking cases in their free hands. All while the city of Mombasa, Kenya, Africa, hell the rest of Earth was under attack by the Covenant.

Looters…

She had grown a hatred for their type since New Jerusalem where she witnessed rogue ODST's abandon their duty to rob an unguarded bank. Her fists curled as she thought back to the doomed world, to Gage, to losing her… voice.

"I mean who'd have thought that someone would just drop from the-!"

Mr. Flamboyant was blasted across the street via a direct spray from the Rookies shotgun. He lay there on his back motionless as his goons looked on with shock, making the mistake of giving the ODST time to switch to her M7S, and hop behind the drop pod for cover, and hold the rest of the goons at gunpoint.

Alright, so which one of you looting fucks is next!

Of course, they couldn't hear what she wanted to say so the goons simply stared at her with bewilderment, not the fear she was looking for. What came next made her eyes pop out of her skull.

"… Ouch…"

The pained groan came from the flamboyant ginger who was supposed to be dead. All heads turned towards the body as it sat upright with an annoyed grin on its very alive face.

"That actually hurt. Where in Vale did you get a gun like that?"

What…

The…

Actual…

Fuck…

The Ginger sighed as he dusted himself off. Not a single speck of blood nor hint of pellet shredded cloth was on him. "I see… apparently you're the stupid silent type" He turned his head towards his goons with an irritated look on his face, "Well… get him"

The goons, now sporting cocky smiles on their faces rushed towards her. Some with what looked like red painted machetes. Still in shock from the Lazarus event moments earlier, the Rookie was slow on the trigger and was lunged at by the nearest thug.

Falling back on her CQB training she sidestepped the attack, grabbed the goon's arm with one hand, and with her other twisted the armed wrist of the goon, snapping it. The goon was forced to drop his machete.

She quickly withdrew her knife and held it at the neck of the goon, the blades sharp point pressing into the throat. Only a little force and he'd bleed out. Now she was holding him hostage. However, once again the reaction from the looters was not the one she was hoping for.

Laughter.

Cocky laughter and cocky smiles.

"That isn't going to work, Sky Guy" spoke the Ginger, "Aura, remember? Even these cheap rentals have theirs unlocked."

The Rookie didn't understand what he meant by 'Aura' but that didn't matter at the moment. Right now she was fucked. With an empty street devoid of cover besides her pod, a hostage in her hands who was apparently disposable, and a group of goons who were beginning to encircle her. Only a miracle would save her now.

Thunk!

A round yellow object impacted the head of the Ginger from left. Or a random yellow helmet.

"H-hey you! Y-y-you better leave this place!" spoke a brave yet stupid teenage girl with a stutter. All eyes turned towards the girl.

The ginger stepped forward, "Or what? You're going to St-st-stop us?" He mocked. The other goons joined to together in laughing at the girl.

She seemed to shrink back and clenched her shaking fists before bringing them up into a boxing stance. The Rookie couldn't believe what she was seeing. Some stupid girl was apparently bringing her fists to a gun and knife fight. Idiot.

The mascara sporting ginger dropped into his own boxing stance, "Ooh I'm so scared! What'cha gonna do blondie? Punch me and my associates to submission?" he continued to mock adding in a few jabs towards the air.

The girl ceased shaking, "Y-yes"

The ginger tilted his head to the side in amusement before he was clotheslined by the blonde who had somehow closed the distance in less than a second.

Oh, I guess that works…

With the goons distracted and Mr. Flamboyant currently getting an ass kicking, the Rookie stabbed into the neck of her hostage, reached for a grenade and lobbed it at the feet of the largest collection of goons. Their brief distraction ended when they heard it rattle between their feet. Then boom.

Distracted once more by the explosion the goons had little time to react to the Rookies quick unloading of her SMG into them. Some went down others shockingly shrugged it off. A few of the goons collected themselves and opened fire at her. Now the fight was on.

Several of the rounds hit her plates, doing little harm besides leaving a few bruises in the morning. The Hell jumper quickly noted that the goons had no sense of fighting as those with machetes rushed towards her blocking the aim of those with guns. Hell, some of the goons fired into their guys trying to hit her.

She used this to her advantage by closing in with the melee goons and using their bodies as cover while she pushed them into one another. She pushed, punched, stabbed, and shot at the goons dumb enough to fight her. She may have been a Rookie, but she was far from inexperienced. Years of war and killing made her skilled in almost any form of combat. There was a reason why ODST's were the best of Humanity. Not counting those Spartan freaks of course.

The goon herd thinned, and soon most were running for their lives into the alleyways. Sirens could be heard in the distance and all that was left to deal with was the ginger and… the girl!

The Rookies head swiveled to the side as she saw the teenager thrown across the street. She struggled to stand as the ginger casually walked towards her, twirling his cane around and leveling it at her like a firearm.

"Really blondie, you should've just minded your own business. Shame I have to kill you, taking a beautiful bombshell like you out of the world is a great loss for the gene pool. But as the ol' saying goes 'Let every fox take care of his own tail'"

A target ridicule popped out from the end of the cane and just as he fired a dark armored form jumped in front of the blonde. The resulting explosive round blasted the Rookie into the arms of the blonde, broken and still.

The blonde screamed out in shock as blood began to seep out onto her from the Rookie. For the Rookie time seemed to blur by as the sounds of the sirens got closer, forcing the ginger to run away. She felt herself being lifted from the street and placed in the back of a vehicle. Ambulance?

Her final memory was of the brave yet very, very stupid blonde teenager looking down at her with panic filled blue eyes and whispering in a panicked breath a series of words.

"For it is in sorrow that we achieve purpose. Through this, we become keepers of memory and of promises to those lost. Infinite in determination and unbound by wounds, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, embrace thee."

AN:

So I thought I'd give this idea a try. There aren't many halo ODST/RWBY crossovers and so I decided to attempt one. There is a good reason for why the Rookie is not used for crossovers, after all how can anyone write a whole story from the POV of a mute? IDK but I'm giving it a try. Some of you may have noticed several (many) grammar and overall writing issues and I apologize for those. When it comes to writing I am a huge perfectionist and it takes several dozens of drafts/edits to get to a final draft that I like. I'm also rather shit at fight scenes and so because of that I am currently looking for a BETA to help write them. If anyone of you would like to offer your time and services or recommend a BETA please do so. But please note that when I do get one I will be redoing this first chapter.

Also as you can probably tell by now there are a few things different with this Rookie and its not just a different set of chromosomes. However for risk of revealing spoilers I shan't say anything more.

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Disclaimer: RWBY belongs to Roosterteeth and Halo belongs to Microsoft