Chapter 18 0830, Oct. 22, 2552/ Jerusalem outskirts, Israel “Move that equipment double time! Get the western perimeter secure! And where are those stationary guns?!” Fred’s voice roared through his external speakers as he barked orders to the marines assigned on the northern corner of the entire perimeter to finish setting up the encampment. He needed the surrounding area clear and ready for a major covenant invasion, perhaps one that has never been witnessed in such a small spot, simply to ensure that none got through and found whatever they were looking for. Fred’s orders were to make sure the Covenant was on a suicide mission. With only 300 marines to his disposal, his arsenal was extremely shorthanded compared to the coming force. Fortunately, he had learned many tactics of how to defend a small base with a small force against a much larger opposition and be able to hold out, if necessary, indefinitely. High-comm had been generous enough to give at least double the required armaments, for a force three times their size, if not more, as well as a promise for reinforcements. He knew, however, that the reinforcements would not come. Fred knew that the only way the covenant could land their forces was to have their dropships directly over the LZ. Therefore, he set Will in charge of dispersing all of the M19 SSM Rocket Launcher’s, or Jackhammers, to as many marines capable of using them, and positioning them for peak performance. He had to take out as many dropships as possible before they could touch land. He also knew that Covenant forces would come from the ground as well, and even though the area was next to a plateau and surrounded by mountains, some would come through there. Linda gave sniper rifles plus extra ammo to all marines she saw fit, which were too few. She took over 100 rounds for herself, which scared Fred slightly scared, but in this situation, there was no such thing as ‘too cautious’. Her job was to make sure that anything non-human that stepped foot in a kilometer radius of the encampment was taking a dirt nap before it could even think of pulling the trigger. She also put all snipers in perfect positions all around the base, where even Fred had trouble spotting them. “Chief, ETA in 30 seconds,” blared through his MJOLNIR armor suit, coming from a nervous officer, probably still green. “Acknowledged. Keep me informed warrant officer. Spartan -104 out.” Another 20 minutes might not be enough to secure this new stronghold, but he didn’t have a choice. The Covenant were coming, and he was throwing the welcome party. “Marines, we have incoming contacts!” A sergeant stood on his post, and yelled, “Everyone ready to kick some ass?” Cheers burst out, some of laughter, some of agreement, and all wanting to do just that. Watching the marines, Fred couldn’t help but think how sluggish and reckless they were. Of course, Spartans worked much more efficiently than everyone else because they were simply trained to, but he couldn’t help but worry about them. They couldn’t win this fight. He pulled up his roster, seeing all the names of his team. They won’t win. No, Fred told himself. These marines are just as able as any Spartan, he repeated to himself. But the doubt still laid thick in his mind. He looked up, staring at the big blue sky, its color taking hold of his eyes. For the moment, he was at peace, but he new it would be short lived, like the calm before the storm. The moment, however, would be savored. Only then did covenant dropships appear over the mountains, blurring the sky. “Sir, we have visual contact. ETA in five, four,…” “Will, initiate phase one.” His acknowledgement light came to life on his screen, and Will’s voice broke out loud and clear. “All personnel with Jackhammers, lock on and fire at all targets on my command.” Fred could feel the anticipation build, as he cocked his battle rifle. “Fire!” Moments later, they screamed from their launchers, leaving a smoke trail behind. Fred counted 20 before they impacted on their targets: seven on the front two, four on the third and two on the last. The front two started falling, and didn’t make it past the plateau. The third, had been spun around, and continued flying in the opposite direction. The last, however, stayed on course. It came to the epicenter of the encampment, with a blue light emanating from its center. Fred had to act quickly. Ground forces this early could really diminish their chances of holding the base. “Will!” “On it, blue one.” His voice stayed hard and cold, just the way it should be. “Mendez, Scarfield, Jones, and Franky, fire volley two.” As they fired, Fred could see Elites coming down the grav-lift, ready to start the massacre. The missiles impacted as the Elites were halfway down the lift, breaking its beam, as well as the ship. They fell at least 20 feet, barely landing on their feet. And just as they looked up, their own ship showed them who was getting massacred. “Hell yeah!” and “Woo-hoo!’ were the cries heard all around the base, as they watched the scorching dropship burn. When the small battle seemed like a huge victory, familiar sound ringed through Fred’s internal speakers. “Sniper”, yelled a marine, as others ran for cover. Looking across the field, he saw one marine, holding a sniper rifle single-handedly, and looking through the scope. Then he fired. The force of the shot hurled him off his feet, and Fred double-timed it to him. “Sir, bogie down.” The man was at least in his 40’s, clutching his chest and his rifle, when the life faded from his eyes. Only then did Fred realize how they would win: from people like this man. Moving his arm aside, his chest revealed an overlarge cavity, with the heart having a huge gash in it. Even with no life in him, he still took out the target. No ordinary human could achieve such a feat, yet this marine did so with ease, defying both science and logic. He grabbed the name tag off the marine’s uniform, and clipped onto the sniper rifle he had just picked off the ground. “Sir, this is comm. station 37. More incoming dropships. We estimate…15, sir.” “Acknowledged”, his voice hard as diamonds. We’ll win because we will it. Because not even death can stop us from it. “Marines, mount up!” The real fight was on its way. ****** Panting wearily, Fred kept upright so not to appear exhausted, not wanting to look tired in front of his marines. All 12 of them. They hunched over crates, lying on the ground, or keeping themselves up with their guns. He keyed his radio to Will and Linda. “Status Report.” There was a short pause, but his fatigue kept him from fearing the worst. “Linda reporting. Haven’t been spotted yet, but I’m almost out of ammo. Awaiting orders.” “Will here. My shield generator is down, all lotus tank mines are gone, and all I’ve got is three Jackhammers each with full ammo for each, and the QQ22 is empty.” “Understood. Both of you report to my position. Linda, grab whatever ammo you need, and pick up any more rifles you spot on the way here. Will, bring those Jackhammers and give them to any marine able to take it. The good General left quite a bit of ammo for us all, so don’t let go of a good weapon too soon. Blue one out.” Walking over to the final twelve, one sergeant immediately started to rise, and the rest followed suit. “At ease, marines,” Fred announced. He didn’t need them to get up on his account, and they needed the rest. They would be back in action soon enough. But at the moment, they were happy just to stay seated, a couple letting out a sigh of relief, others giving a quick grin. Suddenly his radio blared. “Chief, this is High-comm. Station 37. You have incoming dropships, unknown amount, coming in from all vectors, as well as an unclassified vessel.” John. “Warrant officer, we cannot take another barrage. The third wave wiped out nearly our entire platoon. If we don’t get reinforcements, we won’t be able to hold the line.” He heard static, the kind made from the shifting of headsets, meaning that someone higher ranked would deal with him. “Chief, this is Major General Strauss. I want you and all remaining marines to get into secure positions and wait for the Prophet to come out. Once it’s out, kill it.” “Understood.” This mission was suicide, and he knew it. The only problem would be getting the marines to go along with it. With no reinforcements, he didn’t know what to expect. He, as well as the rest of the Spartans, had never been on a mission that wasn’t considered suicide by someone. Unfortunately, he wasn’t giving the orders here, only relaying them. “Marines, listen up! The Covenant is bringing their biggest wave yet. However, we won’t be engaging them.” Every marine showed bewilderment, looking at each other, saying things like “Say what?!”, and “No Way!” Fred grinned, seeing they were willing to give it all for this fight. “Don’t worry marines, you’ll get you’re chance for some more kills. Our goal, however, is to take down a Covenant leader.” “Hey”, one marine called, “He’s mine. “Don’t even thing about it”, another broke in. “I’m gonna make a trophy out of its head and place it on my mantle at home for the kids to see.” “You’ll all get you’re chance. At the moment, everyone needs to find a secure place to hide until the Prophet hits ground and is away from its ship. Only on my signal will anyone open fire.”

“Yes sir!”, they all yelled in unison. These men, as well as their fallen comrades, have truly proven themselves, Fred thought to himself. He turned to see Linda reloading her Rifle and Will carrying the Jackhammers and running past him. “Linda, after Will’s done, find secure positions for all the marines.” She nodded, and turned to start her search. Turning back to the marines and Will, Fred knocked on Will’s back, letting him know he was going into his suit to make field repairs. Always the Spartans practice while not in combat, they managed each other’s Mjolnir armor systems constantly, knowing its importance. “Alright marines, lets move! We don’t have all day.” Immediately following Linda, they double-timed it out of sight, knowing the next covenant attack could come at any time. Finishing the repairs as best as possible, Fred reinserted Will’s shield generator back into his armor, closed the hatch, and knocked twice. Only moments later did he hear the rhythmic hum let off by it, and see the electric flickering of Will’s shields. Always a good sign. “Shields up at 50% and holding. Thanks, having no shields was not very fun.” He knew exactly what Will meant, running around knowing that any single shot could take any one of them out. Although they never relied on their shields to save them, the Spartans certainly appreciated having them, and found it more and more difficult to go on missions without using them. “Sir?” Fred turned to see the Sergeant, standing straight with his hand extended towards him. “Sir, it’s been an honor serving with you. I wanted to let you know that all of us are glad to have you on our side.” The man’s face shone bright, and his hand was grasped by the great metal grip of the Spartans gauntlet. Very few ever shook hands with a Spartan, knowing that their hands could easily be broken with even the gentlest squeeze. Anyone who did, however, was always accepted by the Spartans, and this Sergeant would be no exception. “The honor is mine, Sergeant.” With that, the Sergeant nodded, then turned and returned to his post. “Chief, ETA in 30 seconds. And sir… good luck. Comm. station 37 out.” Letting out a sigh, Fred grabbed his weapon and started walking towards the large building that had once been their base. “Linda, Status.” “All marines secure and waiting, sir.” “Good. Will, I want you to coordinate all marines with Jackhammers where and when to fire. If necessary, set them to fire at only your target and just order them when to pull the trigger.” An acknowledgement signal blinked on his HUD, and Fred ran into the base, holding his back against the wall. The dropships were coming into view now, and the amount was unbelievable. He’d never seen so many in his life. His long range sensors were completely full with red targets, and he turned it off because it would be useless against the amount of Covenant he was about to face. “Turn off you’re FOF tags. Let’s make sure they can’t tell who we are unless they see us.” With a force this big, the only possible attacks that would do any damage was guerrilla tactics. Of course, their mission was only to take out one thing, but it would be guarded heavily. He turned his external speakers to full blast to make sure all his marines would hear him. “Marines, do not open fire until the Prophet has exited its ship and I give the signal. I want all of you to take out anything that stands in front of it, and make way for Blue 2’s sniper firing. All marines with Jackhammers, do not waste your rockets. Only fire when ordered by Blue 3. From now on, we’ll be on radio silence. Once that ship’s down, open the gates of hell on them.” The sound of several marines yelling could be heard in the distance, obviously feeling as he did about disposing their enemy. At least 30 more dropships came into view since he gave his last orders, and all forms of Covenant troops were on the ground. Looking through a crack in the wall he leaned upon, hundreds of Covenant were gathering. Scout groups were running through the area’s he and the others had been only moments ago, scurrying around bodies of both Covenant and Humans alike. Scanning the sky for the ship with the Master Chief, with John, he scoped the small triangular vessel growing at a fast rate. But he couldn’t worry about that now, he needed to focus on getting that prophet. He restarted his radar tracking, knowing that no one in his team was coming to him, and set it to a 10 meter radius. Immediately he saw yellow dots all around the perimeter, meaning they were below the base. There was only one way in the base since he rid of all ladders, and it was a narrow passageway about 5 meters from him. Gun pointed towards the passageway, the ground shook, which had to be the vessel landing. Closing a fist and holding it in the air, he alerted his team to wait, not knowing how long it would take to get the prophet out or whether it was coming at all. A single red blip on his radar circled the perimeter of the base twice now, and was coming back to the open side. Fred checked his gun quickly and saw the ammo was full, but also checked the cartridge to make sure. Damn glad for these ballistic rounds. Suddenly, six more blips came into view, all coming through the open side. He pawed a grenade, but kept a steady hand on his Gritter, pointed at the head of any Elite that may walk through. They started closing in on him. 9 meters, 7 meters. Looking through the scope, he stayed cool and sharp, not flinching a muscle, not breaking a sweat. An orange fin popped into site, and just as the head of the short Grunt came into site, it didn’t even have time to react before 3 bullets pieced its skull and erupted its entire methane-filled suit, instantly incinerating all behind it. Looking back through the crack, 3 teams of Elites, Jackals, and Grunts headed towards that same opening, now littered in the burning carcasses of their comrades. They came in standard formation: Jackals wielding energy shields in front, Grunts and Elites behind. Of course, the size of the passageway would force them to change their formation, but to Fred, they were just as cooked as the previous squad. When they were 8 meters in, he tossed 2 grenades down the route, and enlarged the body pile. Checking the ship, a large crowd of Brutes stood in a strange formation, all huddled very close to each other, as though they were making a perimeter around… Throwing his hands up holding his two remaining fragmentation grenades, Fred lobbed them as far as possible, both landing in that perimeter. One bounced on the floor and exploded, and the other bounced off one helmet, then another, and detonated above them. Immediately 4 rockets fired on that position, as well as 10 sniper rounds going as fast as possible. Jackals holding Beam Rifle’s appeared out of nowhere and fired off 3 shots, all which hit their targets. Another burst of rockets went out, one less than there should have been, and it blew several more Brutes away. More plasma charges came from the ground, and loud screams from his marines were heard in the distance. The Brutes moved with haste, and with their great height blocked any possible view of the Prophet. They headed straight for him, or at least the base. Standing up, he dropped his rifle and brought up 2 plasma grenades and aimed both, sticking two Brutes directly in their faces, decapitating them only moments later. But the group kept up a constant pace, and even the third and fourth barrage of rockets didn’t slow them. Hearing more marines screams, Fred scoped a Jackal sniping and took it out, then another, and 4 more. His role shifted to support, and he needed those marines more than they could ever imagine, yet now he wasn’t even sure if any were left. Only 15 meters from the base now, Fred knew he had to get out of there. Any route he had, however, would mean instant death. With the amount of Covenant snipers in the area, it’s a wonder that any of them were still alive. With that, he concluded the only way he could go. Right in the middle of it. Setting his shields to be only above his knees and his gun to single shot bursts, he went back to the far wall, then ran towards the edge. After 3 steps he reached top speed, and he jumped at the fourth. Just before he hit the ground, he set his shields only to the soles of his feet, making him basically levitate on the ground. This kept him moving at the same speed and he wouldn’t slow down until he hit something or he fell over. Both of which would mean he was dead. Going through the middle of the battlefield, he fired each 3 burst round at another Jackal wielding a Beam Rifle, killing them before they even knew what had happened. Plasma streaked past him, all missing due to his high and constant speed. After taking out at least 17 Jackals, one directly in front of him shot his foot, kicking it up in the air. Almost losing his balance and his gun, he twisted almost inhumanly to it and shot off its head, feeling the plasma scorch his skin. More shots came from behind, and on one leg, he turned again and answered to their calls. Only then did he stop with a sudden thud, cracking the bones in his neck and back. Not even being able to turn around, a huge blue arm grasped him and cut off his breathing and kept him in place. Just as everything turned black, the strangle-hold came off, and he fell to the ground, panting for air. He looked up to see his savior, only to see an image barely visible due to the sun behind it. “How can I help, Blue one?”

Chapter 19 0950, Oct. 22, 2552 Jerusalem outskirts, Israel Pulling the Spartan to his feet, he received the smile gesture, which he returned graciously. “Status?” “Sir, the Covenant have a perimeter around their Prophet, and they just went through the underground part of that base”, pointing to his recent abode. Fred keyed his radio. “Blue two and three, meet up at the center and bring along all remaining marines.” Watching Fred look down at the monstrosity that brought him so close to death, yet again, he stared at the orange stains on the Hunter. His vitals were in normal parameters, with only an increased heart rate. Other than severe burns on his right leg and minor lacerations on both of his arms, he was in great shape. Will and Linda ran up to the two of them, both nodding to Fred and gesturing to his savior. Fred looked behind them both, only to see Linda shaking her head, and all three took a moment of silence. “Permission to assume command, blue one.” Fred looked back at the downed Hunter. “Permission granted, Master Chief.” Fred patted him on the shoulder. “It’s good to have you back, John.” “It’s good to be back.” He walked in front of the group, and turned back to his team. “Will, scavenge as many rockets as you can; we’ll need the heavy weapons. Linda, grab whatever sniper ammo you need, and get a Beam Rifle if you need to. Fred, take a crate with the BR55 and SMG ammo, and throw in a bunch of grenades. We’re going after them.” ****** The heavy breathing of two Brutes blared through John’s internal speakers as he and Will sneaked down the corridor nearby. Peeking around the corner, he stole a glance of the room, spotting seven Brutes, nine Elites, 14 Jackals, a Hunter pair, and around 20 Grunts and Drones. He set his suit’s radio to receive only F-band signals, and the voices of hundreds of Covenant troops came through. About to speak, he stopped himself, remembering that he was on his own, and didn’t have Cortana’s abilities at his disposal. Recapping the room, a discrepancy fired off warnings in his head. The room was quite large, able to hold a force at least triple the size, yet they bunched together as though the empty space pushed them away from one another. Drones covered the ceiling, flying to and fro. Jackals crowded together on one side of the room, with the opposite wall yielding to the Grunts. But John’s problem with the scene was how the Brutes and Elites stationed themselves, on the far sides of the room. The Elites were obviously uncomfortable, standing strangely and in complete silence, watching everything that happened in the room, while the Brutes simply disregarded all protocol and conversed noisily, laughing, grunting, and snorting. And the Hunter pair stood in the middle of the room, simply separating all. Their massive bodies seemed to protrude from the room, as though they didn’t belong at all. A reckless grunt ran into one’s leg, and looking up to its head, it fell backwards. They took no notice to it, even as it scattered off. Before getting on the Forerunner ship, the Covenant was in disarray, firing upon each other, meaning that a civil war might ensue. The forces here on Earth, however, seemed to be ignorant to what has been happening, but the tension was still present. Turning to Will, he pointing to his gun, to Will’s Jackhammer, then to himself. Will handed his Jackhammer over and hoisted the QQ22 on his shoulder, just as John did with the Rocket Launcher. Looking across the hall, John unclipped a grenade and pointed at it, then to the room. Fred grabbed one of his own and gave the thumbs up. Holding it with his left thumb and forefinger, John held the other three fingers up as a countdown. His middle finger dropped, then index, then… John’s speakers played a deep voice, and translated them from a Brute. Focusing on what he was about to do, the voice slipped by him, but his gut told him to stop and wait. He’d learned long ago to trust it, as all the Spartans have, and it saved all of them numerous times in battle. The reaction from one Elite caught his attention, however. Making a cutting motion with his left arm to tell his team to back down, he turned the volume up and listened in. “What did you say,” an Elite yelled across the chamber. “See, they are hard of hearing as well,” the Brute captain said to his group, who broke out into laughter. The Elite, wearing golden armor, began approaching the center of the room, followed by the rest of his Elites. The Brutes did the same following their captain, and the Hunters stepped out of the way. The two leaders stood only inches away from each other. The Brute turned from his group to the Elite, and snorted. “I will rip your arms from their sockets, then your head from you body.” “And I will open your chest and take your heart, while you live, and you shall watch it be crushed in my hands.” Both growling, John’s finger fell as he flung off the grenades safety pin, checking his calculations, and threw it at the ground only meters ahead of his position. The grenades internal countdown mechanism started as it hit the ground, immediately counting down from three. At two seconds, the noise it made against the ground registered among several Jackals and Grunts, who looked about to find the source. At one second all Covenant forces became alert of the possible danger, excluding the Brutes and Elites, their leaders still staring each other down. At .1 seconds left, the grenade blocked their view of the two captains from each other. Its explosion propelled the groups of Elites and Brutes across the room, killing many instantly, as well as sending a rippling shockwave to all present. John flung his arm forward and rushed in, firing a rocket at the confused group of Jackals. Behind him Will had unleashed two bursts of radiation, scattering the Drones and hitting a Hunter. The sound of two rifles came from around the corridor, dropping more Drones and the other Hunter. Grunts yelled in fear and ran, one in continual circles, until John took them out with his second rocket. Will let out another burst towards the Elites, disintegrating one that was directly hit as it vanished from existence, while the blast killed the rest, who stood to close together. John dropped his Jackhammer and pulled out his BR55 to clear any remaining targets, only to see Will fly across the room and crack a self portrait into the wall behind. Averting his eyes to Will’s previous position, the sight of three beserking Brutes came into view. Charging towards him, two tripped over themselves and stopped completely, one after the other, with the deafening sound of .50 caliber bullets leaving their chambers. Only one directly ahead of him continued its pursuit, as John clutched a plasma grenade from his belt and readied it behind his back. He dropped his gun and bent his knees, putting most of his weight on his right leg. When the Brute was just a meter away, John pushed off of his right foot and flung himself into the air, sticking the grenade onto his adversaries’ snout. It gave out a shriek as John leaped for cover, grabbing at it, perhaps willing to give its nose for its head, yet time showed no pity. As the body landed and pinkish blood fell to the floor, the Spartans regrouped. Climbing out of the wall, Will picked up his Fuel Rod Cannon and joined his team. Fred and Linda stared uneasily upon him, never seeing anyone take a direct hit from a Brute before, while John checked his vitals. “You alright,” Fred asked. Will ran his hand along the fist-shaped depression in his chest, and looked to the wall. “Perfect. Just wondering which dent made more damage.” Linda chuckled and Fred pat his back. “Will, your vitals are sporadic.” John knew his Spartans wouldn’t lie to him, let alone about something this important. “Suit malfunction?” “Probably. Internal systems show normal, but the suit to suit transmitter may be damaged.” “We’ll worry about that later. Let’s keep-” He stopped mid-sentence, feeling the floor vibrate just before his shield fully regenerated. Holding up a fist for his team to wait, he checked the seismic activity. It tripled, and was increasing. “They’re coming this way,” John warned. “So let’s get out the welcome mat.”

Chapter 20 1020, Oct. 22, 2552 Cairo Space Station, Orbiting Earth Bridge Staring out into the intense battle before his eyes, Admiral Hood turned to his officers, all sitting at their stations, typing away commands into their consoles. His eyes didn’t hold the same light they did when he entered the battle, his optimism leaving, hope fading. “What is our status compared to that of the Covenant armada?” “Sir, they outnumber us about…they have six ships for every five of ours. It’s much closer than Cortana originally predicted. We may be able to tip that balance soon.” Very optimistic, but unrealistic. The chances to do that fall with every ship we lose. They continue to send boarding parties to Earth and to the orbital stations as well. How we’ve managed to stay in orbit, I can only guess. But soon they will overpower this station, and the others, and the fleet will have no backup. With the number left now, it’s only a matter of hours until they do. The lack of sleep and old age had caught up threefold on his face, almost looking like a wrinkled dog’s face. But nothing, perhaps even death could shake him from the intense focus he had while looking at the tactical display, showing the entire space battle on the simple two dimensional board. He searched for a way to bring victory to his people, but with the larger number of Covenant vessels there, it simply seemed impossible. They were outgunned, outmanned, and outclassed. And even if they did win, what about the next armada? Surely the Covenant had more vessels to attack with, as they had one this size destroyed at the Unyielding Hierophant, and there must have been more. This fight might be in vain. That thought repeated over and over in his head, when his lieutenant’s voice brought him back to reality. “Sir, I’m getting a level one priority message from ONI central. They’re requesting that you give all command over to them immediately, and they will eliminate the threat now. I don’t know what they mean, but I’m not getting any more intel on it.” What are they up to? If I refuse to agree, they can’t do anything, not now. But what can I do? Maybe they have a solution, but they are hiding it. Is it worth the risk? “Ok, they have full authority over the operation, clearance alpha gamma epsilon 369. But I want to be immediately told in any changes with the fight out there. Understood? “Yes sir. Sending message now.” The Cairo fired another round, the huge ball of depleted uranium traveling at a fourth the speed of light. The thought of it traveling so fast took his mind off the battle for a moment, a moment desperately needed now. According to Einstein’s theory of relativity, the mass of the projectile increased significantly due to the huge velocity, as did the momentum, and thus, the damage. Not only that, but it appeared smaller to anyone watching it, making the target unaware of how truly powerful the blast was. A direct hit was almost a sure fire guarantee that the target was to be obliterated, or at least not leave the battle without a huge hole in it. “Admiral, encoded messages are being sent through to all allied vessels. It says to draw all Covenant forces as close to sectors 21, 24 and 27.” “Sectors 21, 24 and 27? Nothing is in those sectors. Why would they-” The admiral’s brow scrunched closed, his eyes looking from side to side as though to find the answer. Sectors 21, 24 and 27 were placed off limits during battle preparations. That means that they put something there, waiting for the battle to turn ugly, and ONI would come in and save the day. But the only thing that could work would be…“-Order all ships to avoid those areas immediately! There are nuclear weapons there, and all those ships will be damaged or disabled!” “Sir, we’re being jammed! No communications can be sent.” “What? From where?” “Scanning…sir, it’s coming from within the Cairo.” A look of anger warped the admiral’s face, as he walked with heavy-set fists through the control panel. The line-up of officers continued to work, typing away strenuously to solve whatever problems they were dealing with. All but one. Picking up his pace, Hood came to the man’s console, seeing a dark screen. The officer sat cross armed, obviously waiting for the Admiral to find him. “I order you to get rid of that jammer immediately!” “I’m afraid he can’t do that admiral”, a voice spoke through the speakers on the control. The familiarity and coolness of it alarmed Hood, and only a single thought came through his head, as his teeth gritted and the other officers stared and watched. His face appeared on the screen as it lit up, a smile across his face sent a chill down Hood’s spine. That smile was frightening, constant through every word, never wavering, as though to seem pleasant. But there was more to that look, something hidden, something making this man in complete control of the situation. “Colonel James Ackerson.” “I’m glad I haven’t been forgotten, even though that’s what you’ve really wanted for quite some time now, I’m sure. Isn’t that correct?” His voice stayed calm and steady, never wavering from its coolness. It heated up the admiral, unable to keep calm himself with complete control, but safe for the time being. “Ackerson, you will not get my fleet destroyed. Not on my watch.” “I’m sorry admiral, but my hands are tied. You gave over all your command functions over to me just a minute ago. And I’m simply working for the best interest of human society. I would suggest that you and your crew leave that station while you still have a chance. It will be difficult without any systems functioning.” “When I get my hands on you, I’ll-” “Don’t worry, you won’t. Chances are that I’ll be considered a huge war hero from my bravery while you are forgotten, honorably discharged, and moved to some remote estate where nobody will ever find you. You should be thanking me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a war to win.” “Ackerson!” But it was too late, the screen died, killing the image of Ackerson’s stupid grin from the space station, possibly for the last time. A headache brewed within the admiral’s head as he ran into overdrive, thinking of anything that would solve this problem. Anything that could help in any way, but nothing came to him. As though a brick wall had been placed in front of his thoughts, it allowed him no insight to save his fleet, and threatened to tumble onto him. “I want a way to contact the fleet, and I want it now! If we don’t warn them, most of the fleet will be gone, and the rest of it will be immobile from the EMP blast, including this station.” But it was no use. The tactical display showed the fleet doing just as they were ordered, collecting a large portion of themselves and the Covenant vessels into those sectors. They were almost full, those sectors crawling with more ships per square kilometer than he’d ever seen before. That’s when it struck. A huge blast ripped through those vessels, tearing through Covenant and Human alike. It blew away every atom of their hulls like dust in the wind, disintegrating every trace of metal and flesh. Only the large explosion was visible, and only for a moment before anyone looking could not watch any longer, for the intensity of the blast was brighter than the sun. The admiral covered his eyes with his arm, yet still tried to watch. The futile attempt only led to a momentary blindness and disorientation, and the universe disappeared for a moment. Then the shockwave came at the Cairo, shaking it violently, and all electronic devices died without a trace, no way to repair them in any short period of time. This meant every single system aboard the Cairo was gone, including life support and possibly the backup generators, which may have been on due to the damage received. “Do we have any power left?” “I’m not sure sir. And even if there was, turning on the equipment might spend it.” “Fine, I’m ordering the evacuation of this station. We’re sitting ducks up here without any power, and it’ll take a week and an entire crew to fix her, and we don’t have that kind of time. Everyone get to the evacuation pods, and if you find any other personnel, inform them to do the same. There’s not much we can do now.” He looked back where the three explosions took place, and something reflected from it into the corner of his eye. Squinting as best he could, the Admiral made out his worst nightmare: Covenant battle cruisers, still intact and now moving out of that sector. Oh hell, without any more ships to defend, they’ve got a straight shot at Earth! The ships grew larger, and his eyes widened when he saw why. “Covenant ships on attack vector, heading straight for us! Get the hell out of here now!” The bridge filled with panic, all officers now crazed in search of some way to sustain themselves. But Lord Hood had no time to ponder this, as he himself was caught in the frenzy, running towards the closest known escape pod sector available. The pearly white halls and small and seemingly insignificant call sign’s of each hall- and walkway flew past his old eyes as another streak of color among the vast reach of pure white, seen in all directions. Each escape pod in the immediate area had already been launched or destroyed, and the admiral ran towards the next section, his heart pounding like never before. Stopping was the only thought in mind, yet he could not and did not. Each second wasted was another second for the Covenant to rid of more Humans, he thought. More Humans that would fight back take a life or more, and never give in. Yet his heart pounded his chest as though ready to escape, and run itself to the escape pod instead of its host body. The thought almost brought a smile to his face, but no effort was made in the direction of humor, only of life, and sustaining it.

Section after section of escape pod areas had already been used up, and yet he was still aboard, and no idea of the next section clouded his mind. Franticly looking towards his last location and the still unexplored regions of the huge station, a moaning caught his attention, pulling him to it. Several marines lay under heavy debris, one of them making the sound while more lay unconscious or dead. “Are you alright? Let me get this off of you.” Pulling with all the strength he had, Hood found that he lacked it, and turned to find some tool to help maneuver around this obstacle. A large metal pole, apparently from the broken pillar only a few meters away, lay quietly and content with the universe, but the Admiral felt otherwise. Using the pole as a lever, Hood heaved the large block off of the moaning marine, a low ranked private, but he only saw the life still within the person. This was no time for prejudice; not on any level. He’d save that for another day, maybe another person. The private looked up at him, then tried to get up, but failed and fell back to the cold hard ground. Grabbing her arm and slinging it over his shoulder, the Admiral stood and began walking in a direction, anything away from where he’d been and hopefully towards salvation. “Escape shuttles…three blocks…left…code 841.” Hood stopped for a single moment, thinking to tell the badly hurt marine to stay quiet, to conserve her energy, and to keep living. But he thought better, knowing that anything she would say would not be in vain. There were already too many situations he’d seen where the final words, or possible final words, were shut out to ‘help’ the person, yet it was a waste. In this case, it had saved his life. Taking no time to congratulate his own philosophy, Hood walked as quickly as possible to the place ordained by the marine, graciously thanking God that she was light, or at least lighter than he’d expected. Several escape pods were released from their stations by faster officers ahead of him, all too involved with their own problems to help him with his own. He decided against blaming them, as their youth prevented them from such thoughts, and a lack of training and thought allowed for the such. Coming up on the deck, he looked through the blast doors of each escape pod, only seeing the remains of them floating outside or the empty space of the departed. The third one in the row was still there, and he punched in the code, which, thankfully enough, still worked. It seemed that Ackerson wasn’t as coldhearted as he presumed: he shut down the escape pod’s subsystems before the nukes went off to make sure they’d be able to escape. The thoughtfulness didn’t appeal to the Admiral, who quickly opened the blast doors and went inside, laying the marine on the closest seat and sitting in the pilot’s chair. The console was foreign, but after scrutinizing it briefly, he made clear to the onboard systems that departure was necessary, and it took off, leaving the station. The destination to be set was both a trivial and vital matter to attend to, and he simply set the navigation to autopilot the pod until it would reach Earth’s atmosphere to land at New Mombasa, where the Cairo was stationed over, and where the first Covenant strike for attacked. He reminded himself that it was all but destroyed, and looked for the next best landing spot, confirming it into the computer’s database. Turning the swivel chair around, Lord Hood went over to the marine, who breathed heavily, yet seemed to be conscious. “Where are you hurt?” She placed her left hand over her ribs, probably meaning a few were broken, to say the least. Internal bleeding was a possibility, but there were no medical supplies available, as they’d been stripped bare for other equipment, which was still not onboard. “Try to stay still. When we land, I’ll get you to the finest hospital around, and you’ll be back killing those Covenant bastards before you can argue with me about it.” Barely opening her eyes, she let out a brief smile, and then her head leaned to the left sharply, falling on her shoulder. Checking her pulse proved she was still alive, only exhausted and asleep from the excessive strain on her body. The station, visible through the screen on the pilot’s HUD through the aft cameras showed the giant station quietly drifting through space, and then erupting with a pulse of purple light, yet it refused to fade. The light stayed until the station was nothing more than floating rubble, with only a view of the massive Covenant vessels closing in on Earth. At that point, the same ship that destroyed the Cairo jostled violently, as though hit by a mallet its own size. It continued to do so until it simply exploded, yet with the dark of space in the background, no sense could be made of the situation. “Computer, identify vessel that destroyed the Covenant cruiser in sector 42.” “Scanning…unknown classification, unknown alliance. No information available.” What the hell? He continued to watch the screen, hoping to get a glimpse of whatever was now fighting the Covenant, to see what could possibly be helping the UNSC fleet in its most dire moment. But the autopilot prevented it, and began its descent into the Earth’s atmosphere. Damn, I wish I knew what that was. Sitting back in the command seat, he typed on the console as fast as he could; prepping the escape pod for emergency landing into an atmospheric environment was no easy task. ****** Staring down at the private refueling his ship, Helstrum couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on out there. He’s been inside the Cairo for only 20 minutes, and yet every second out of battle, or at least space, was a lost moment. There were so many personnel running back and forth in a frenzy that he could only guess the situation was bad, if not terrible. But the Cairo was still operational, and for the moment, that’s all that really mattered. “Hey commander, I’m prep’d up and ready!” Jan yelled from across the large yet empty fighter bay. The sound traveled very well without the normal resistance of hundreds of voices and at least 10 other fighters in the bay. It surprised them both. “Ok, get out there, but don’t stray too far from the barn. We’ll be done before you can say supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.” He almost laughed when the acoustics in the room allowed him to hear her whispering it, trying to get the phrase right. My favorite practical joke, and yet nobody’s been able to use it against me yet. Looking back down at the private, he hollered, “when’s this puppy gonna be up and running?” “Just give it another five, sir. The ordinance will be here before then.” The given conditions led to an awkward silence, a period where nobody knew what to say, yet the void of sound seemed to require a voice, some savior from it. But it remained, momentarily disrupted by the engines and take-off from Jan’s ship, then came again, this time seeming worse than before. Twiddling his fingers wasn’t cutting it. “So…heard anything from the front?” “Nope, not yet.” “Got any friends fighting out there?” “Doesn’t everybody?” The guy apparently didn’t want to talk, just wanted to do his job and get it over with. “How’s your mother doing?” “Sir, I’d appreciate it if you let me do my job.” Helstrum didn’t press the issue. Maybe his mother’s dead. That would kill the conversation better than any nuke I’ve used today. The ordinance rolled in on a huge rolling cart, pushed by two more marines, both without any rank or insignia. At this point, he didn’t care to let them know, as they weren’t exactly in the best position to be taking his crap. Especially since they were the ones holding every bullet and nuke he’d take back to the battle with him. One of the marines tripped and the entire stock of munitions began to tip over, with the nukes on top. One started to slip off, but the fallen marine managed to grab his post and bring it back to normal before anything could fall. “Hey, be careful with that! If your not, this whole station’s gonna be very empty, very fast.” “Ye-yes sir!” Quickly fixing the problem, they hurried to load the weapons into his Ulysses, and Helstrum simply began tapping on the hull of it. Tapping louder and louder, he could see the marine refueling it was becoming annoyed, yet also would not comment on the incident. This gave Helstrum a small joy, although he realized only shortly after that he was becoming annoyed to, and stopped. “Yo, commander, when you gonna get done!” yelled Sach from his own fighter craft across the bay. “Any minute now…” staring down at the marines, who gave back a look, telling him that they heard and were working on it. “If you’re ready, get out there and take some down for me!” “I dunno, I got a bad feeling about this. Something doesn’t feel right. You know what I mean?” “No, I don’t know what you mean. Now get your ass back out there and make me proud!” “Aww, c’mon sir, I’ll just wait for you to finish.” Helstrum raised his index finger, like that of a father punishing his son. “Boy, don’t give me none of your lip!” Just as he finished yelling, the lights suddenly flickered off, and the fuel stopped pumping. The entire bay was completely black and now quiet too. Helstrum reached in his cockpit and pulled out a flashlight, shining it at his refit team. “What the hell! How did the lights go out? Doesn’t this station have backup generators?” “Yes sir, it does. I don’t know what’s wrong.” “I’m guessing the fuel pump is dead. Ok, take my flashlight and finish getting that ammo in there. I’m not leaving here until I have those, and I’m leaving in two minutes. Sach, warm up your bird and get on the comm. Find out what’s goin on.”

Everyone rushed to their work, and Helstrum did something he thought his wife promised him not to do: think. It always got him in trouble with her, and she simply wanted to solve that problem. What could knock out all of the systems aboard this station so easily, yet keep it perfectly intact? Well, an EMP blast could do that, but I don’t see how that could have happened. And if it did, only things on would be affected, so chances are that the comm. won’t work. “Sir, the comm.’s not working. All I’m getting is static.” Figures. That’s why she never wanted me to think. I was always right. “Ok, we probably got hit by an EMP blast, but I don’t have any clue how that may have happened. When you guys finish up with my bird, hit the escape pods. They’ll work. And keep the flashlight.” “Sir, we’re all prep’d up. But the blast doors are closed. You’ll have to break through them, or you won’t be able to leave.” “Don’t worry about us. We’ll figure it out. Just get to those escape pods.” The five marines on the ground stood straight and saluted Helstrum, and he returned it graciously. They ran off and he started his Ulysses, giving it a full systems check. “Computer, are there any malfunctions or possible system errors preventing full power?” “Negative. Vessel fully operational.” Good. Whatever blew out the lights left us intact. Putting on his headset, Helstrum flicked a switch to activate it on his team’s designated frequency. “Hey kid, you ready to get outta here?” “Sure thing boss. But what about Jan? The blast probably wiped out her systems as well.” Damnit! “We can’t leave her behind. These fighters all have a distress beacon that activates when any system failures occur. I’ll go and pick her up while you use the grapple to hold her ship in place. Then…we’ll figure out the rest from there. Now take off and follow my lead.” Scrambling off the ground and grabbing the stick, Helstrum veered his ship up and to the left, towards the fighter launch bay. Flying too fast and barely missing the walls, he switched on the ship’s lights, only to find the blast doors a couple hundred meters in front of him. He pulled the trigger and let loose a barrage of missiles, and increased his speed. They flew in front of him and exploded on impact, making smoke appear then disappear into the blackness of space, along with his ship. Reaching the vacuum, his radar showed one red light, blinking in and out of existence. He increased his speed and Sach followed, not falling a step behind. Jan’s ship came into view, Sach flew ahead and connected his grapple to her ship from the top while Helstrum flew underneath and initiated a connection of the two vessels. The computer’s robotic voice came through his headset. “Connection in three, two, one, ships connected. Transfer of personnel and equipment will be possible momentarily. Please stand by.” He waited for a moment, then a green light blinked on his HUD, and the top of the cockpit opened hard before he could even reach for it. Her head peered through. “Took you long enough, sir. With all due respect.” “Of course. Now get in the co-pilot seat and set all the warheads to detonate on impact. We’ll have Sach steer your best friend into the biggest Covenant ship we can find, and get it within their shields. That way, we won’t waste any good firepower we have.” “Umm, sir, without being able to steer that thing, we won’t have the time or ability to bring it inside any capital ship and have enough time to get out. Maybe we should leave it for later?” “Yes, that sounds like a plan. Sach, you hear all that?” “Yes sir, dropping off this baby now. I’m reading an energy spike in that Covenant ship at 243 by 184. Their firing at the Cairo!” “Damn! Full engines! Let’s beat them to the punch!” “Norman,” Jan said, covering her mike, “we won’t have time. If their firing now, the Cairo’s a goner. There’s no need to give away our positions or jeopardize our mission by flying in blind.” I hate it when that woman’s right. Damn, too many lives lost already. Now this… “Alright, let’s take it nice and slow. We’ll leave the ship here and come back for it when we’re out of ammo. In the meantime, let’s get over to the battle. Jan, what’s the situation with the fleet?” “Scanning…sir, I think there’s a malfunction with your systems. I read no operational UNSC stations or ships at all. Just us and Sach.” “Wait, you can see Sach on your scan?” “Yeah, it’s weird. I don’t get what’s wrong with this thing. Maybe it’s cause we’re so close to him.” “No, its worse than that. The EMP blast that shut off all your systems must have reached the entire fleet as well. That means that there could be hundreds, maybe even thousands of people stranded out here in space, just waiting to be zapped by those Covie bastards.” “I don’t think so, sir.” “What? What are you talking about?” “Sir, look at nine ‘o clock, right at the Earth’s edge. Do you see it?” Squinting as hard as he good, the Commander looked at the Earth, seeing the faint blue sky from his angle, and seeing a strange object, quite large if he could see it from this distance, coming out from behind the Earth. “Sir, it’s showing as a UNSC ship. But we have no records of it anywhere.” “Well I’ll be damned. I don’t care if I can’t see it, or even if I don’t know how big it is or what it looks like; as long as there are Humans in there, we’re in business. Let’s move out! We don’t want to keep our prey waiting.”

Chapter 21 1030, Oct. 22, 2552 Jerusalem outskirts, Israel “Chief, radar’s showing at least 50 targets coming this way. We won’t be able to take them all on. Not like this.” “Understood. Form up on me.” The Master Chief turned and ran for the exit, going up several flights of stairs that were still a part of the abandoned base, of which the Covenant had suddenly bombarded with a huge force, consisting mainly of Brutes and Jackals. It seemed almost too perfect, being that even with superior firepower and strength, the Covenant did not attack, except for the Jackal’s who did not rush into the base. And even then, few of the species in the Covenant were even in the area when the Forerunner ship arrived, proving that there were ulterior motives behind this ‘visit’. Reaching the last room where sunlight could actually reach, John stopped and turned back to Will. “Set up all the Lotus Tank Mines in this room and set them for proximity alert. I want this building to collapse right on top of them. Linda, Fred and I will cover your back. I’m sure they were expecting some resistance, and that there’s a surprise ready for us.” “Right away.” Pulling his pack off and opening it revealed four of the explosives. Though small, their ability to cause destruction was truly hidden by their size. “Chief, I don’t know if this’ll blow the building. With only four, the stability will be compromised, but it could hold.” “What about if we left a bunch of grenades here as well, and they’d explode along with the mines”, asked Fred. “No, the grenades don’t have the power to add much to it. And we definitely don’t have enough grenades to do the trick.” “Will, what about that new weapon of yours? You called it a-” “QQ22? It might work, but I wouldn’t be able to fire it inside, so the only way to do so would be from out there. But finding the point of structural weakness won’t be easy. If I don’t hit that, it won’t fall. Using the Jackhammer might help as well, but it won’t matter unless we find the spot the mines make.” “That’s better than nothing. Set it up as fast as possible, and then get out here. We’ll position ourselves away from the blast radius and hidden in case anything goes wrong.” Running out of the building, he briefly scanned the area, looking for any possible threats. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and they proceeded to find a secure position. Then a familiar noise came through, something no human ever wanted to hear: the buzzing sounds of a fly, although one too large to be of this world. Green plasma rained down on their position, each Spartan scattering to different directions. At least 20 were in the air above them, but there was no chance to find out. Several sniper rounds dropped the Drones, while another assault rifle unloaded bursts into others. John had just pulled out his BR55 and downed several himself, but more fired at him, draining his shields. He dodged several smaller plasma bursts, but a larger burst came at him and followed each movement he made. Seeing no way to stop the inevitable, he threw a grenade down 10 feet in front of him just before the burst struck. When it did, his shields flickered and died, and the grenade exploded, throwing dust and sand into the air. With the opportunity, he ran into the cloud and set his vision to infrared, and continued firing at each passing Drone. As more rounds connected to their targets, the three Spartans soon found themselves without any more targets. Will had just run out of the building and headed towards the rest, while they ran to find cover. “How long until they reach the top?” John asked through an open comm. channel. “Unknown. I didn’t have time to check how deep they were, but if my motion detector could read them, then they’re pretty close.” “Fred, take Will’s Jackhammer and aim it wherever you can find an opening. Linda, if anything comes out the front; make sure they don’t get to that ship. Fred, hand me that fancy gun of yours.” After the exchange of weapons, the entire building seemed to shake as the mines exploded, but the building stayed intact. Fred and Will let loose as best they could, firing rockets at the building, while both John and Linda held their breath for just a moment. When the building collapsed, John exhaled, but didn’t show it. He kept his gun pointed up, ready for any surprises, and his team followed suit. “Standby to confirm kill.” The building continued to collapse for a few seconds longer, falling on top of everything that was under it, hopefully eliminating whatever threat was there. That was too easy. It shouldn’t have been, especially if that was the Prophet I was told of. “Are you sure a Prophet was in the center of that large group of Brutes?” “110% sure. Why?” “Just be ready. There must be more to this than meets the-” The building had finished falling, but stayed standing, in a sort of way. Rubble was piling and falling off of a concentrated area, but it was unnatural, especially for the explosion that had taken place. Something was supporting the Covenant from within the structure, but what? The heap of rubble started to move, most falling off while some stayed on, although what was seen then could hardly be believed by any Spartan. The Brutes continued to move, with some sort of field encircling them, shielding them from whatever may come their way. They ran together back towards the Forerunner ship, and all the Spartans raised their weapons. “No! Whatever that thing is, it’s strong enough to keep a collapsing building off of it, and it sure as hell isn’t going down by our guns.” He quickly opened a channel to whoever could hear him, hopefully someone who would care enough about getting that Prophet. John knew that the chances were slim to get through to anyone, and that he had a better chance of talking to a wall, but he had to try. “This is Spartan -117. The unidentified Covenant vessel carrying their leader cannot be allowed to escape under any circumstances. I repeat, that vessel cannot be allowed to jump out of system!” ****** “Ulysses fighters, numbers 2930487 and 2930857, you are ordered to stand down. We’ll take care of everything from here. Return home immediately, you are relieved.” What the hell? Who do they think they are? I’m the one who’s been out here for God knows how long with my ass on the line! “I don’t want to disappoint you, but there’s no way in heaven or hell that I’m giving up this fight! We’re wearing the same uniform; the same blood runs through us both! So why the hell shouldn’t I be out here fighting for my friggin’ race?!” For a moment, the channel was dead quiet, and Helstrum didn’t really care what the standing opinion of the new UNSC ship said about it; he was staying out there. He wanted to keep fighting, and he was also damn curious about the new fleet. It was just like some secret government organization to hide something like this, and only use it when absolutely necessary. It was incredibly stupid, but what could he do? “Fine, your given clearance to continue. But everything you see is to be considered classified information, or you may be court marshaled.” “Wow, it’s just like you to say something born from pure genius like that. Why don’t you let me know about the court martial if any of us make it out of here alive? And if we do, then we can discuss that minor detail. Helstrum out.” Giving a deep sigh, he said, “Wow, they sure are stupid.” “You said it boss. Let’s get a good look at it before we get back to owning those Covie bastards.” “I’m with you on that one. Full speed!” The Earth seemed to move instead of them, turning faster than its norm, and the large vessel protruding from it became somewhat discernable. Helstrum could only imagine starships from old science fiction vid’s, made before space travel was considerable and movies of giant space battles with other races and possibly other Humans allowed for such gigantic destroyers to be built. He almost expected to see some triangular-shaped or a very rounded ship to appear out of the Earth’s shadow, and that it would be a bright white, like they always were. If that would have satisfied him, then only disappointment would follow. The ship was almost invisible, painted so black that the only way to see it was by looking for the absence of stars. His Ulysses’ HUD displayed it on his tactical display, and gave an estimate description of the ship. Around two kilometers longs, batteries at every hundred meters, five Mac cannons, fifty different missile tubes, and a compliment of fighters that would normally supply ten normal UNSC destroyers. And lastly, a Super Mac Cannon lay in the middle of the vessel, shooting the huge ball of Uranium as well as the stationary Super Mac Cannons, like the Cairo. Ship schematics showed a three dimensional description of the new vessel, giving it a strange and quite unique look. Wings protruded from many directions, all of which held some weapons or fighter bays. The hull itself seemed too thick to penetrate by conventional means, although that didn’t say much against the Covenant, as they fought by very unconventional means according to the UNSC. There were also other weapons that the schematics showed, yet they were all unidentified. “Hey Jan, have you ever seen one of those before?” “Nope, not anything like that.” She scrutinized the picture, and saw something familiar to her. “It kind of reminds me of those Covie plasma rifles, but only in their look. You don’t think they could have made a larger version of those, do you?”

“Nah, it’s too soon. It’ll take at least another 5 years to come up with that tech.” Then the massive ship, which Helstrum christened the Agamemnon, opened fire on the nearest Covenant battle Cruiser. A spread of Mac rounds ate through its hull, seeing that the shields of all Covenant forces are nonoperational after the EMP burst. The battle cruiser was no more in only a matter of seconds, as the four holes in the hull made the ship tear itself inside out. The rest of the Covenant forces were still disoriented from the blast, many of their ships destroyed and the surviving ones in critical condition, or at least without shields. And any fighter craft they had that were not within their hulls were vaporized instantly, too small to be able to withstand such a blast. This left a clear run to all their capital ships, giving Helstrum the opportunity he needed. And then reality kicked in. “Norman, we won’t be able to follow our normal routine. As long as the Covenant’s shields are down, we can’t use the nukes. Not without getting hit by the EMP blast ourselves, as well as that goliath of a ship.” Dammit, why didn’t I think of that? “Ok, then we need a new plan. Set scanners to pick up any fluctuations in the shielding of any Covenant ship. If any one of them gets those shields back, we’ll put them down. In the meantime, we’re on fighter patrol. Form up on me.” By the time those words left his mouth, the Agamemnon let loose its main cannon, firing a lob of Uranium through the nose of a Covenant capital ship, and right out the end. It became two completely destroyed ships, both floating away from each other in a burning rage unseen in the battle until now. Fighters seemed to sneeze out of the Covenant vessels, flying out in full force, ready to spread infection and death. Helstrum set his Ulysses to fly directly towards a fighter bay. Hell, if he couldn’t fire the damn nuke, didn’t mean he couldn’t go inside the mother and take out the fighters before they could get off the ground. “Sach, cover my back. I’m going in. Want to catch ‘em sleeping.” “Gotcha.” He hit the afterburners and raced towards the nearest target, making a hard turn right into the fighter hatch. Thankfully, no fighters had reached it yet, which either meant that they were on their way, or all of them had already left. In either case, he would be sure to get in and out as fast as possible. Being stuck in this tub won’t be much fun if it blows up around me. “Jan, send a message to our new fleet command. Tell them not to target the ship we’re in.” “Already tried, but they didn’t seem to listen. Their on a direct course for it, and don’t seem to be stopping.” “What the hell. Don’t those beaurocratic sons of -blam!-es ever learn? How much time until their in range to make us go to a happier place?” “Just a few minutes, three at max.” “Then we’re just gonna have to work fast. Give me full power to engines. Sach, stay back here and make sure none of them get out. If you see those government guys getting ready to fire, get the hell outta here, and make sure you record the mother. I don’t want to be dead meat from my own kind without seeing them fall to the pits of hell soon after.” “Yeah yeah, I’m sure they won’t open fire. But I’ve got it covered.” With those final words, the engines rushed the ship forward and both pilots far back, making their seats a fraction of the size they once were. Still no Covie fighters came out, and Helstrum was getting worried. No targets meant that he was endangering himself and Jan for no reason, and he didn’t take kindly to stupid decisions done by the people who always did what was ‘best’ for him. Normally, he liked having the geniuses at places like ONI just stay put there, but now… Coming up to the bay, the luminescent purple light filled the interior of his eyes, the strange purple that both soothed, and brought back so many bad memories. Too many dead, from this soft and yet deadly color. The bay was filled to capacity, with Brutes and Elites climbing into their fighter craft. This was the best chance he had. “Jan, find me the best targeting solution to take out all of these fighters as fast as possible without having to slow down and without any of them getting out.” He heard her grumble something, but let it slide, knowing that what he asked for was crazy. An AI would have trouble with that task, at least for a second or two. So he pulled the trigger on the nearest one, and took out every third ship he could. Thankfully and regrettably, the bay was huge, meaning it would be impossible for him to get hit, but that there were so many targets to take out that it could take a while. And he wasn’t even sure if he had the ammo to take out all these targets. Damn. Decisions, decisions, decisions. “Don’t worry boss, I don’t think you have to worry about that anymore. This baby’s shields just went up. From my calculations, we can unload Fat Man here and take out everything without any worries.” Helstrum, shocked and yet so thankful, turned around in his seat, which prohibited such actions physically, and plainly said, “Jan, has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” “Yes, ever day. By the way, I’m also humble. Now let’s blow this joint!” “You got it. Arming Warhead…Fire!” The nuke cleared one of his three specialized pods, made just for that mission, and dropped onto the dark ground of the to-be-buried-in-space ship. “Tell those pansies we’ve got this one covered, and that if they know what’s good for them, they’ll go bother someone else.” Clearing the bay and going down the hatch again, the automatic timer counted down from 30. At ten, they reached normal space. At five, they reached the shields and blasted their way through. At one, both fighters were at around two clicks away, and the blast radius died, giving only a ripple through space. A moment of cheering ensued, as not much of a threat was present, and they set forth for new targets. “Wait, Slipspace ruptures. Showing on screen.” The computer layout provided an image of an entire sector, where large patches of white light opened up, and gave way to the only thing that could ruin any human’s day: more Covenant vessels. “I count twenty of them, all at perfect status and charging their weapons. Damn, what now?” Yeah, now what? Even if that crazy new ship we have is super powerful, it can’t take on another entire fleet. Even with the fighter support, it’s outnumbered in guns at least five to one, if not more. And without the support of other UNSC ships, there would be little chance of us getting through their defenses and planting the nukes. So what do we do? “I’m reading another Slipspace rupture. This ones opening…right in front of the Agamemnon. Hell, it’s from it! Their leaving the battle!” “What?!” But it was true, that bastard ship left the system without even saying goodbye. Without any final words or thoughts, only with itself and the dishonor that could be given to it, the most advanced Human vessel in all of history ran frightened from battle. “I am really having trouble believing this -blam!-! Ok, here’s the plan! We go in and blow every ship we can. If someone gets a wing clipped, get back to Jan’s fighter and wait for it there. As soon as the other one of us gets the same, we’ll both set the nuke’s timers for three minutes and fire everything we got everywhere, including Jan’s. Is that clear?!” “But sir, that’s suicide.” “I didn’t ask for you’re -blam!-ing. I asked you if that was clear!” He could feel both Jan and Sach gulping loudly, the ball in their throat’s clenching the back of their necks and refusing to let go. But both were good soldiers; damn fine marines. They wouldn’t back down. “Sir yes sir! Crystal clear sir!” They said in unison. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Now let’s get this show-” “Sir, one of the Covenant ships just fired on its own. It completely obliterated it.” This day is just full of surprises. “Ok, then we wait here. Open all channels to receive anything from the F-band frequencies. Maybe we’ve got something going for ourselves here.” “We’ve got an incoming transmission, audio only. It’s from Lord Hood!” “Don’t just sit there. Put him through. Admiral, glad to see you’ve made it out in one piece.” “I can’t say the same for you. What’s the status up there?” “Covenant ships are firing on each other. As far as I know, we’re the only UNSC ships still operational, although there are definitely survivors from the EMP blast. I’ve opened all frequencies the Covenant use to see if they are either losing their minds or maybe coming around to working up and agreement, being that their not happy with themselves over something.” “Good thinking. I’ll keep on this link in case anything happens.” “Sir, we have another incoming transmission. It’s from one of the Covenant ships.” Jan gave a worried look, not knowing what to take of this, and thankful that there was someone higher up ready to take the call.” “Patch it through directly to me, Helstrum.” “Understood. Stand by.” A feed came through, showing an Elite, wearing a highly polished white armor. The screen only showed his face and shoulders, giving it a perfect high school yearbook picture. “It is time for the light and darkness to realize its true nature, and become one with the source. Time will not allow us much measure, so prepare. A revolution awaits us all.”

Chapter 22 1100, Oct. 22, 2552 Earthspace, Sector 39 “Jan, what the hell is that supposed to mean?” He turned around, and stared at the blank face of his co-pilot. She just shrugged, and opened her mouth to answer, but let it sit open for a moment. Didn’t really have anything to say. Fleet Admiral Hood’s voice came through again, as the line was still connected. “Helstrum, is this a two way connection, or are we only receiving?” “Right now, only receiving. I can try to open a channel to them as well, if you like.” “Do it. I have a good feeling about this, and it will the be first one I’ve had all day.” Obliging the good Admiral, Norman flipped a few switches and commenced the communiqué system, as it sent a signal towards the vessel that had just messaged him. Normally, such an action would be considered a waste of time, as it has been done only twice before, at the first and second contact. There were no records of the first contact, because the colony on Harvest was completely destroyed, and the second contact was only a small military expedition to find out what happened there, with only a few ships returning. They tried to communicate with the Covenant, but nothing happened. They were simply ignored. “Channel open sir. Whatever you say, they’ll here you. If you want to hold out for a second, just send the following signal here,” giving off a long and tedious alpha-numeric code, which didn’t mean anything to anyone but him. Funny, he thought, I’d always imagined using this for something else. ****** What am I supposed to say? Lord Hood started pacing, knowing that the fate of the planet could rest on his shoulders, or could have no meaning whatsoever. Regardless of which it was, he still felt the weight piling up. Stress built up fast, but no solutions came to mind. No one else with any command rank was around, although he knew that they were still around. But there was no time to contact them and discuss the matter. The Covenant were not known to be patient, or at least for him. He looked out the window, and stared into the deep blue sky. The ground was a battered battlefield, and not a pretty sight. And before the nukes went off, neither was the sky. But now it was the only peaceful thing around. Even the room he paced in was trashed, electronics lying around and rubble everywhere. They sky was the only place he could turn his eyes towards, the only thing that could lift the burden from his chest, even for a moment. That’s where he found inspiration. “Covenant fleet, this is Vice Admiral Hood of the UNSC. If I humbly understood what you have sent us, then I accept a truce and would like to discuss the matter personally.” Holding his breath, he wondered what kind of inspiration had actually hit him. Nothing he said was outstanding in any way, just simple. He could have begged to meet them, kindly said no, or told them to burn in hell. But nothing he could have said would have helped very much. “Agreed. In three of your Earth hours, meet us at our closest vessel to your Earth. Do not be late. Instructions will be given when you arrive. But be warned. Many of our brothers will still fight you. If they do not engage you, then they are not to be fired upon. If they do, then they are treasonous, and deserve their fate.” The picture of the Elite flickered off, and a smile blew across the Admiral’s face. “I’d say that went well, sir.” “And I’d agree. But to stay on the safe side, I want you up there. If anything goes wrong, I want them out of our sky. Understood?” “Yes sir. If I may ask, how are you going to get up here? As far as I know, the fighting down there is still pretty intense, meaning it might be hard to get a lift. If one of us came down and picked you up, we could make it back in time.” “No, I can’t take that risk. And it might take too long. Anyways, being high up in the brass does have its advantages. Admiral Hood out.” Turning back towards the officers working at their stations, he almost forgot he was back on Earth, being so used to the Cairo. Reality hit him hard when he almost called for his old staff member in the same position as the marine he watched, and then shook his head, slightly dazed. “Sir, are you all right?” “No, I don’t think I’ll ever be all right again. I need a stim pack and some serious coffee. But first, how’s Arlene?” “You mean the one you brought with you? I’ll check with the hospital right away.” Lord Hood started pacing again, something his feet had never been able to grow tired of, and something for him to do while waiting for news which he probably didn’t want to hear. Being pleasantly surprised once, Hood tried his luck a second time. “She’s still in critical condition, but they’ve stabilized her. The doctors say she’ll make a full recovery.” Hood gave a sigh of relief, and gave another look towards the sky, thanking whoever was responsible. Now there was only the matter of finding a ship to take him, as well as figuring out what the status down here was. Truthfully, his only clue was the scorched Earth around him, which didn’t exactly give the most welcome thoughts on their success. “This is Spartan -117. The unidentified Covenant vessel carrying their leader cannot be allowed to escape under any circumstances. I repeat, that vessel cannot be allowed to jump out of system!” The message blared through every speaker in the room, causing several officers to cover their ears instinctively. Hood simply grimaced at the volume. When it repeated a second time, he saw that the Master Chief had made it an automated message to continue playing until someone responded to it. “Cut it!” he yelled as loud as possible. The speakers died mid sentence, giving the room a quiet feel to it, as though it were devoid of any sound. “Can you find that signal?” “One moment…we have his position, as well as the other Spartans. The unregistered ship is also leaving orbit. Orders?” “Do we have any means to take out that vessel?” “No sir, not without the fleet.” “Then we’ll let it go. Not like we have much of a choice in the matter. Show me the sectors where we have the most fighting on the tactical display.” Walking over to the blue graph-like monitor, a two dimensional map of the world appeared, with stars for each city under attack. The larger the star, the bigger the attacking force. Most of the stars were evenly sized, but one stuck out like a sore thumb, at least three times the size of any other. “Why is this one so much larger than the rest?”

“Sir, there’s a Covenant capital ship orbiting the city. It arrived there only a half hour ago, and has been sending a barrage of troops to attack, as well as every artillery unit we’ve ever come across, and some we haven’t.” How did this one get through? It probably got past that other ship and attacked head on, knowing we’d have nothing to stop it. Time to pull out the ace. “Get the closest pelican to the Master Chief, and send him over there. I want that ship out of my sky. Then open a link to him; I have a mission for the Spartans.” ****** I’ve failed. The Forerunner ship exited the atmosphere, and there wasn’t any UNSC ship to intercept it. No fighters, cruisers, bombers…nothing. It disappeared from his vision, and he could only imagine that it had jumped into Slipspace, knowing full well that it wasn’t welcome here any longer. The rest of the Spartans looked at him, awaiting orders, or at least guidance. But he was lost in his own thoughts, in the failed mission. There had only been one other, although the difference in the outcome could not even be measured. John kept looking up until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Immediately recognizing it as Linda’s, he instinctively turned towards it and her. “There was nothing we could have done. That field was just too powerful. There’s still work for us to do.” Her words rang true in his head, but every atom in him screamed out. Not against it, but not for it. They just screamed. Hearing something to his immediate right, John turned like lighting and aimed his BR55 right at the head of a Jackal, who lay under rubble, reaching for a plasma pistol. His trigger finger pulsed, ready and waiting to pull itself back just a bit further, to release the burst of bullets into the Jackal’s head. Will walked over and simply kicked the plasma pistol away from the Jackal’s reach, and turned to John, not understanding what the problem was. But the muzzle still pointed at the Jackal’s head, its bird-like eyes widening, as though to plea for help from an imminent doom. This is the enemy. We must take out the enemy. Its either them or us. “John, snap out of it. It’s not going anywhere, and won’t be hurting anyone. Just let it go.” Her voice echoed in his ears, but his hand refused to give up the target, the enemy. Only then did it hit him what was happening and he turned around and punched right through a pile of rubble, obliterating it even more than it already had been. Rage filled his entire being, just for a moment, and then died down again. “Master Chief,” came through his internal speakers, “this is Admiral Hood. A Pelican will be coming to pick you up momentarily. It will take you to New York, where a Covenant capital ship is bombarding the city. They need support desperately. I need you to take the grav-lift and take out that cruiser.” Taking a deep breath and standing up straight, John activated his suit’s communication system and opened a channel. “Understood sir. We’ll take care of it.” “Good. You’re ETA will be ten minutes. The pilots will be rushing it, so hold on tight. One last thing: We may have a possible truce with the Covenant soon, but this ship is one of their rogues. If they have anything that doesn’t fire at you, don’t fire back at them. But be careful. They probably know about that and may set a trap. And good luck. Admiral Hood out.” As the comm. channel closed, the Pelican came into sight, and landed just 20 meters away from them. “Pile in boys and girls; we don’t have any time to spare!” The Spartans jogged into the Pelican, climbing through the open hatch on the back of it, and they all sat down in whichever seat they could. It took off quickly, putting at least three g’s on everyone. Nothing out of the ordinary. But John sat in thought, so deep that the weight had no meaning to him, as though it were only a shell he was in, yet that he wasn’t in it. Like he was having an out of body experience. What was I thinking? A flashback of the Jackal played back to him, and nothing in it made any sense. I would never do anything like that. Would I? What’s wrong with me? The sound of distant voices kept a strange background hum during his thoughts, although he barely noticed it. As it grew louder and louder, his own thoughts became too hard to understand through the amount of noise he was hearing, and John suddenly snapped back into reality. His head whipped left, and he realized that he’d been asleep, although it felt like adrenaline had been pumping through him, and his heart rate was up. The time gave justice to him, showing an hour lapse that he really couldn’t account for. Gazing straight, while wondering how to get his own helmet off and wipe his eyes, Fred appeared in his sight, sitting directly in front of him. Helmet off and eating some military rations, he saw a gauntlet holding food extend towards him, and a smile which was he was too eager to recognize. Then all cylinders started firing again. “Thanks.” John took the rations and unclipped his helmet, taking it off with his free hand. Never had military rations tasted so good, but, then again, it had been some time since he’d eaten anything. “Here’s to us,” Linda chimed in, holding up her last piece of edible material high above her. “May we live to go on a long vacation, and eat decent food, without ever worrying about the Earth’s safety.” “Amen to that.” “I second the motion.” They all laughed, except for John, who withheld that luxury because he was the team captain. He simply ate, quietly, focusing on each bite and swallow. For that one moment, he wondered why, as the squad leader, he was supposed to not join the friendly ‘civilian’ conversation, especially now, that their chances of survival could be at a potentially knew low. On that note, he stopped eating for a moment, so he could fix this minor problem. Because in those few minutes of sleep he had, a revelation occurred to him. There are too many problems for him to simply deal with the large ones. If that was all he dealt with, then soon the minor ones would become worse than those already taken care of. It was time to fix everything at once, not one at a time. “You know, back on the Cairo before we all went our separate ways, I heard a funny one” he said, his mouth half full and holding the last of his rations in his hands. “How many Elites does it take to screw in a light bulb?” Looking across the faces in the Pelican, the answer didn’t really matter, because his team had lightened up from his return so much that anything would suffice. I should have done this long ago. And he didn’t disappoint them.

Chapter 23 1300, Oct. 22, 2552 Enroute, ETA 2 minutes New York, main province/North American Continent “Who was first contact?” The Master Chief held onto a single handlebar, positioned at the mouth of the hatch of the Pelican. It was coming into the city. The view would have been terrific, had in not been for the huge Covenant ship floating above it, encompassing the entire sky, making the huge city seem like a medieval town. “405th out of Diego Garcia” yelled the sergeant from the cockpit. He stood over the two pilots, holding onto both of their seats to stay standing, while the rest of his platoon, all 4 of them, sat and waited to get back to combat, hoping that the steel between them and a 400 foot drop kept its height. “But don’t expect a big welcome. The Covenant wiped most of them out before they hit the ground.” The Pelican slowed, then veered right, passing tall buildings that were over the low cloud line. For whatever reason, it seemed like the fog was the only thing not affected by the fighting, still there, although giving a small tactical advantage to all of Earth’s forces. “I can only imagine how pissed those environmentalists are now, seeing that the one thing they’ve been trying to get rid of forever is helping us out more than they are,” quoted a marine from inside the Pelican, reminding John of a news report he’d read before the Covenant came. How ironic, he thought. How typical. Then the Pelican started it’s descent into the city. Coming out from the small layer of fog, a battered city showed its face, with every building carrying some sort of battle scar. Broken windows, bullet and plasma scarring, missing floors. The Pelican soared just 50 feet from the ground, and blue streaks of plasma filled the sky, all firing from inside the city. The Covenant had taken command of it. All ground forces would have to be taken care of first, before anyone engaged the cruiser. This would be a volatile mission. “Mount up, marines! Dust off in 20!” The ODST’s got their gear in order, getting their helmets on and checking their ammo. Each one made sure their weapons were in perfect firing order, just short of shooting them. John was glad to see that he knew the crew flying with them, although under better circumstances. They were the same marines he’d seen at the Cairo only a few weeks before, who’d threatened him about using their corner in one of the station’s gym’s. Irony… Passing more buildings, some of them still had lights on throughout most of them, meaning there wasn’t enough time to evacuate everyone properly, and that the Covenant controlled all power within the city, but weren’t using any of it. John knew that this wasn’t a good thing, because there would be civilians present. He glanced back at his team, and they all gave a short thumb’s up, registering his thoughts exactly. A small landing pad with a lone marine standing near it shown brightly, the lights to help guide the pilots to it. Several tents showed that they’d been here long enough to set up camp, and that there were possibly wounded. First they’d have to find the CO and figure out the exact situation, and work from there. As the Pelican descended towards the ground, dust and rubble shot out from under it, making the marine cover his face with his arm. As the whee’s touched the ground the Sergeant turned to the crew of the Pelican. “Pile out! Go go go!” The five ODST’s rushed out, moving as fast as they could. The Spartans followed suit. “I’ll evac the wounded. If you need a hand chief, just give us a call.” “Understood. Spartans, get those wounded aboard ASAP.” They sent a unified ‘acknowledged’ signal, and jogged down the ramp of the landing platform. Ahead of him stood a lone marine, while a few others who looked like they’d been through hell and came back with plasma scars the size of their arms sat around it. He walked up to the marine, who held the same weapon as John did, the new SB73. Like the BR55, it only added on to that model, providing a single shot and fully automatic blessing to the mix. What better time to try it out. “Corporal Perez, A company. Cp’s this way,” he motioned with his head. Turning and going down the ramp, John followed, setting the new gun to single shot mode. The sun was at the twilight point where it was still too bright to look at without having trouble looking at it, yet calling towards all to watch its magnificence. It reflected off of buildings and ground, and out of those fallen marine’s eyes. The only constant in the universe, it appeared. Following the Corporal, he could see one marine helping another to the landing platform, and behind them were two circular tents. He recognized them as medic’s, and saw blood on the ground all around it. “Look, a Spartan” the wounded one said in disbelief. “I guess the brass do give a -blam!-.” Getting off the ramp, one medic pumped on a marine’s chest, yelling at him to come around, but nothing happened. “C’mon, c’mon!” Looking in the tent on his right, one medic and a marine stood over another marine, the medic putting a needle in his arm. “Stay with me marine!” Running across what used to be the normal road, the sidewalk was filled with more wounded, although John did give a sigh of relief that blood wasn’t flowing through the streets. One orange cot carried another marine, and a medic kneeling right next to him. “I’m calling it. It’s 1900.” “The lieutenant got hit as soon as we dropped in,” said the Corporal, while looking at his superior officer with dismay. “Who’s in charge now?” “Sergeant Banks. He’s pinned down up front. C’mon, I’ll show you.” They ran through a blackened room and up the stairs, where several marines traveled through as well, all wounded and on their way to the transport. Turning a corner at the edge of the staircase, a chaingun could be heard rattling, and then stopped. “No no, behind that ST,” one marine shouted to the one on the chaingun. “Yeah yeah yeah.” “Three more, coming left!” “I’m running low man!” The Corporal stood behind a wall for cover, and another marine was sitting with his back to the battle behind, being a liaison for all marines to the front. “Hey Parsons!” “Yeah?!” “Is it clear?!” Just as he asked, the wall next to Parsons burst in to flames, with rubble flying off from the Plasma fire. “You tell me!” “Jesus Christ,” Perez mumbled to himself, then turned back to Parsons. “Friendlies, moving out. Covering fire!” They ran out of their cover and onto the balcony, which gave sight to a huge Covenant turret, less than half a click from their position. It charged up and fired, but the blast went past the building and blocked itself from his sight. Checking the ground, John spotted a group of Grunts running across the street, and he toggled his scope, letting off one shot for each one, puncturing their heads. After dropping three, he ran towards another ramp, which led to the CP and the street below. “Grunts, down low,” one marine remarked as he spotted them behind the CP’s position, under the ramp. John looked at them from above and they opened fire, hitting his shields once while he unclipped a grenade and dropped it. The Grunts ran wildly around to avoid the blast, but were too clumsy to get away. Checking to see if any were left, their bodies hit the ground with a satisfying thud, giving a clear line to his directive. A far wall produced another Grunt, but aiming quickly allowed John to blow it away without much fuss. The marines moved in and made sure the area was clear, making a perimeter. John found the CP lying on a wall near a chaingun next to a dead man. The CP was hit, but not badly. He made his way over and reloaded his weapon. “Damn, am I glad to see you. Never thought we’d get so much attention.” The Covenant plasma turret loaded another charge, and then fired, hitting a nearby building and shaking the ground underneath them. The building hit was the closest one to them. They would be its next target. “We’ve got to take that thing out. Cover me.” John looked over the ledge, and saw a 15 foot drop, filled with Grunts and Jackals, all heading towards them. Cars littered the streets, as well as randomly placed telephone booths and other street-legal accessories. They may come in handy. Letting off a few bursts at the enemy, the CP grabbed the dead marine’s radio. “Tech HQ, this is Sergeant Banks. I’ve got hostile artillery 200 meters north-north east of my position. Bring smoke, over!” A group of Grunts ran in between several cars, and John unclipped a grenade and threw it at one of the cars, exploding it and the surrounding cars as well. Smoke piled and more Jackal’s and Grunts came through it. Setting his gun aside, he grabbed hold of the chaingun and rained bullets on the Jackal’s, who couldn’t hold their shields up from the onslaught, eventually dropping them and themselves. Blue blood began to litter the road while more enemies came out from a collapsed building complex just 50 meters ahead of them. The plasma turret continued firing at the building, trying to drop it, and each blast produced another sun. The heat from each blast scorched his shields, and had a rough influence on the marines. “Dammit HQ, is anybody on this freq?!”

“Sergeant, this is Major Easley. Hang tight, we’re inbound.” Three Longsword fighters flew overhead, letting off a deafening scream. Each one dropped two bombs right on top of the turret, just as it charged to fire. The blast made its previous ones seem insignificant, filling the sky with a light blue. “Verify deliver of ordinance on target.” “Dead on, Major. Target neutralized.” The Covenant forces stopped coming, and marines ran through the street, stopping any stragglers. Just before John left, the Sergeant got up, clutching his left side, and held out his SMG. “Take my weapon. You’ll need it.” Packing away his SB73, he grabbed his own SMG and held both out. Running out onto the street with the few marines, he let off a short burst into a nearby Grunt and Jackal, and headed towards the collapsed building. Rubble and concrete blocks littered the streets, giving both cover and a weaving path to follow. The inside of the collapsed building was dark, lit mainly by the gunfire from both Covenant and UNSC forces. Random bursts of plasma and bullets fired, although the noise of falling Grunts and Jackals rang through John’s internal speakers. Moving through the wreckage as fast as possible, a small Covenant force had managed to stay secure in an enclosed area, with only one known entrance and exit. He’d just come upon it. Turning the corner, plasma fire burst on his shields, barely giving him a moment to find cover. The rest of the marines caught up, and noticing the Spartan had hesitated to enter the enclosure, stopped just short as well. One pulled out a flash grenade and looked directly at John, who nodded. “Grenade out! Cover you’re eyes and ears!” The flash grenade was a special type of grenade, made to stun the enemy as opposed to killing them immediately, and for reasons of damaging the surrounding area or keeping the enemy alive while the user is not harmed. Although they were in ruins of a building, there was still concrete above them, and no one knew how strong it was, or whether it could sustain the blast of the average frag grenade. Three seconds later, it detonated, releasing a chemical induced flash brighter than the sun, and louder than a collision of trains. The Covenant forces, to say the least, were stunned. “Clear it out!” The marines moved in and opened fire, while their enemy simply allowed it to happen, unable to defend themselves in any way. John opened fire on any targets of opportunity he found, unloading his SMG clips into them. When it was all clear, he made his way across the room, and saw an exit on his right, leading out to the building’s other side. He climbed a small ledge of gravel and spotted five Jackals with raised shields, slowly making their way towards him. A Shadow, a Covenant troop transport, moved behind them only twenty meters away. Seeing that he hadn’t been spotted, John dropped one SMG and pocketed the other, grabbing the SB73 and toggling the scope. Opening fire on the nearest target, he missed its head, hitting the shield instead, and getting their attention. They quickly formed a Roman barrier, moving slowly with their shields in front of them, making their way towards him, firing through the small openings on the shield’s edge. He reached for a grenade but found only empty space, and aimed as best he could. The Shadow also opened fire at him, but from the distance, could not pass the gravel barrier as easily as the Jackals. Then two Warthogs drove out from the left of the street, making road kill of the Jackals. The Shadow kept firing but fled, seeing it was outnumbered. “We could use you on the gun, Chief!” Leaping towards the opportunity, he saw that the drivers and passengers were those same ODST’s he flew in with, and gave a quick nod as he grabbed hold of the Gauss rifle on the back. The marine floored it, and another Shadow came out from the right, giving John his first target. Shells came out of the Gauss rifle and into the heart of the Shadow, while the other Warthog, armed with the three barreled machine gun, unloaded into the other side. The Shadow erupted only a few moments later, unable to take the torrent plagued upon it. The two Warthogs drove past the wreckage and turned left on the street, giving everyone a view of the open town. Street signs still hung in normal area’s, perfectly lit, as well as bill-board advertisements, one of which resembled the same Warthog they rode in. “More Shadows, down low!” Driving the Warthog on the edge of the street, two more Shadows became visible, floating above the ground under them. John opened fire on the nearest one and the shell hit the cockpit, killing the pilot and disposing of the controls. Another burst tore through its fusion drive, stopping it and killing all within. The other one continued firing at him, and it flared his shields, but didn’t drop them. He fired one shot and hit its backside, but a tunnel shielded it from any more fire. “Meet it on the other side.” “You got it Chief!” The other Warthog sailed past them on the street to their left while they continued on, coming upon another intersection. Several cars stood in the street, waiting for their drivers to return, while a few Jackals used them as cover. Killing two birds with one stone, John delivered a selfless shell into the car, exploding it and the other cars behind it, as well as the Jackals. Turning on the intersection, the Shadow came into view and John made sure not to miss, unloading another two shells into its front, exploding it near another group of Jackals. The driver followed the windy road, and several Grunts and Jackals became visible from their turn. “Their mine!” yelled the driver, as he kicked the clutch and downshifted, slamming on the gas. John was grateful; he would have felt bad for destroying the road for a few minor enemies. “Ghosts, making a break for it!” the Australian passenger barked, spotting two Ghosts come from in between buildings. “Quick-” “I’ve got ‘em,” another one shouted from the other Warthog. Letting loose with the machine gun, it ripped through the back of the Ghost, tearing the Covenant metal and making an example of it to its partner, who only lived to see it blow. John fired another shell into it, and it blew right through it and the pilot. Two more Ghosts came from across the street, firing directly at the Warthogs. The armored plating held off the fire, but started to melt from the intense heat. Neither soldier on the turrets needed a second opinion. They opened fire on both Ghosts, not giving either a chance. Driving along the road produced another Shadow, this one heading straight for them. It carried a Ghost in its belly, which John fired at and destroyed, causing the explosion to take the Shadow down with it. Two more Ghosts came into view, and one shot from the Gauss cannon took it out. “That’s one-” said their faithful passenger, watching the other push its turbo jets. The other Warthog drove in from the left and braked right in front of the Ghost, careening it into the air. John shot it midair, giving a blue tinge above them. “-that’s two! C’mon, who’s for more?!” And as though the universe heard his plea, several more came towards them, but John kept his cool and fired one shot at a time, not giving a second chance to any of them. Suddenly, a Phantom flew above the two Warthogs, firing at both from its three turrets. Each shell that flew into its hull let out a green burst of light, which slowly changed blue, and gave a decorative hole in it. After placing three in it, the driver turned onto another street and a building came between them, but another was flying just above this new street. Firing at the new target, it lowered and dropped off several large things, too far ahead for any of them to make out. “Oh crap mates, we’ve got Brutes!” They jumped out from the moving Phantom, onto the streets, and opened fire on the Warthogs. The first one toppled over from the fire, while John kept them at bay. The slowed Phantom came directly overhead, and another Brute landed on the hood of the Warthog. He wanted to open fire on it, but at this range, both the driver and passenger would be killed. The Brute hit the passenger out with such a force, that John knew there would be no way to survive. It then swung its arm around and took out the driver, making the car automatically brake and stop. Jumping out before the Brute could follow, he pulled out his SB73 and ran around the car, then fired two shots directly at where he believed would be the Brute’s heart, and hit it three times in the face with the butt of the gun. More plasma came from behind him, as several Brutes edged closer to him out in the open. Starting to open fire, he noticed another car, hopefully still in working condition, right near the group of Brutes. Firing upon it, the fifth bullet breached the fuel chamber and caused it to explode, throwing the Brutes farther onto the street, where they ceased moving. Standing in the middle of intersections was always a bad place to be, as he remembered from basic training, and he turned right to see if any more Brute’s were there. The Phantom overhead didn’t seem to notice him, for the moment, but they would in time. Two more Ghosts came towards him, both piloted by Brutes. He took out his SMG and opened fire on the first one, but only scratched the front of it. The second one he deliberately didn’t fire at, but the pilot felt no sympathy and let loose with all the plasma it had. His shields drained quickly, but when it was close enough, John jumped on the wing and kicked the massive Brute off, taking control of the Ghost.

The Phantom overhead now noticed him and opened fire, but he needed to lead it away from where the marines were attacking, at least until they could set up base. He opened fire on the Phantoms, and they started to follow him. Good, he thought, this will give them the time we need. Turning around, John pushed on the turbo jets and rocketed onto a bridge, where now two Phantoms and two Ghosts followed closely behind. He silently thanked the Covenant genius who made the Ghosts so that it could only use the turbo drive when it wasn’t shooting, giving him a huge advantage against the other Ghosts. Whenever they opened fire, they fell farther behind, and the Phantom turrets were too slow to keep up with him. Soon, the bridge started to shake from the miss-firing of the Phantoms, making it unstable. The two Phantoms began firing at targets above and ahead of John, hoping they would fall and hit him, allowing them to take out their demon. A huge electronic bill-board loomed ahead and they fired, but it held firm, only collapsing when he had just passed it. One Phantom tried to cut him off, but was hit by the falling bill-board, which crushed a section of its hull and turned it upside down, scraping it’s topside on the hard concrete. The Phantom’s collapse had caused the underground highway ahead to shut down, and John read an electronic signal display just before he went into it. Highway Access Denied; Automated Highway Shutdown, it read. Slamming on the turbo, smoke of exploded vehicles clouded his sight and made him switch to infrared, where he could see the massive doors closing. Bending down as low as possible, he squeezed the acceleration as hard as he could, and heard the Ghost whine from the stress put on it. Reaching the doors, the top and bottom of the Ghost hit the steel doors and threw him off of it, his armor scraping against the ground as he moved 40 kph, making enough sparks to make any caveman fire-crazy. The two Brutes in the Ghosts behind him, however, couldn’t see past the dense smoke and hadn’t heard their target’s explosive maneuver. Only when it was too late did either of them notice the closed doors in front of them, at which they had no time to stop. The Chief saw two small explosions through the door, penetrating only the seams. Standing up, the Covenant cruiser showed up on his HUD, displayed as Nav point alpha. It consumed the entire sky above the city, only giving off a single light from its grav-lift. Then small lights seemed to fall out of the sky. First a few, then tens, maybe hundreds, each one probably coming from the ship. They were similar to the plasma fire given off by the Covenant ships, but something made John think differently. Then five of them landed near him. Each ODST is forced to, at one time or another, take a suicide fall onto a planet’s surface with a small landing pod, made for only one person. Though the rate of survival has increased exponentially year after year, it still made sure that not everyone would join their group, because of the somewhat insane state of mind one would have to be in to do such things. The five things that landed near him seemed to be some sort of life pods, like those used by the ODST’s, and each began opening with a rush of air coming through. Two more landed one only ten meters in front of him, another farther to his left. Watching the closest one, the front shot out only a few meters to his left, leaving only an open hatch and an Elite, wearing Black armor he’d only seen once before: on the Pillar of Autumn, just before leaving the first Halo ring. They were the best of the best, their elite Elites. This one jumped out and shook his head violently, each jaw tendril swishing with the head’s movement. A few more came out, all holding a small light in their right hand, all looking at the one in the center, barking at them. The best he could make out was ‘wort wort wort.’ The ‘commanding’ Elite threw its arm out, and an energy sword came forth from it, while the rest followed suit. John pointed both his SMG’s at the Elite, but the noise of a few more to his right took his gaze to them, but his guns still on target. A few on the edges started forming a circle around him, and he backed up, knowing that if they made one that his back would be defenseless. Dropping his right SMG, he grabbed a plasma grenade that he’d taken off a dead Brute and activated it, tossing it towards their leader. It quickly moved out of the way, but another behind it was stuck, and exploded, confusing those immediately near it. Taking the opportunity, John fired at the Elites who’d been affected by the blast and ran at them, dropping one and taking another’s shields down. The other four ran after him, but John was able to fire several bullets in his target’s mouth before its partners could intervene. Turning quickly, he threw his gun as hard as possible at another, and it flung its head back hard, but the Elite kept upright. John bent down and grabbed a dropped sword, but an Elite to his right charged and hit him hard, making him drop it. The Elite tried to tackle John, but could not overcome his strength, and was hit twice so hard that its shields dropped as well. John grabbed its sword arm and made it cut itself in half, then stopped another Elite from doing the same to him by holding half the Elites body, along with its sword. The two swords collided and caused his screen to fizzle for a moment, until he took the other Elites’ half body and smashed it into his attacker, throwing it off. It fell to the ground but wasn’t out, while the other two lunged at him together, hoping to catch John off guard. He jumped hard and out of their paths, and then landed on one’s head, making it collapse under his weight, while throwing his sword at the other and cutting a large gash in its center, taking out its heart.

Only one Elite remained, the one that had to be their leader. It growled at him harshly, but gave no ground to him. Activating another sword, they circled each other, both recognizing the destructive power they both yielded, waiting for the other to strike first. The Elite seemed to be moving its free hand towards its back, meaning it would try to grenade him, so just as it was halfway to its back, John lunged at it. The Elite perry’d and blocked, but barely held John off. He kept swinging at the Elite, but each attack was thrown off. Moving back, the Elite grabbed the upper hand by catching John’s sword in between his own using the space inside the two blades of the sword. It turned its sword faster than John expected, but he held on to the shaft firmly. The blades both fizzled and warped, something he was unprepared for and had never seen. The Elite took its chance and threw a plasma grenade at the Chief, but he caught it. The grenade stuck to his hand, and John quickly set all his shields in between his hand and the grenade, and forced it to pulse, shooting it back at the Elite. It exploded on impact. Bending over for a moment, he panted and tried to catch his breath. Thinking he saw something in his peripheral vision, John dropped the sword and replaced it with his SB73, aiming it directly at another Elite. But this particular one had its back to him, and was running away. Why is it…? Thoughts of the Covenant battle over the second Halo ring and of Lord Hood’s words rang through, making him lower the gun. “Chief, where are you? We cleared out all the wounded and most of the City of Covenant ground forces.” He was glad to here Fred’s voice, and cleared his throat before replying. “I’m just outside of the city limits, of interstate highway 21. Can I get a pickup?” “Sure thing. Be there in a few.” The channel closed, and John walked over the battlefield he’d just created, and picked up the SMG. It was bent in a way he’d never seen; almost in half, as though he grabbed the sides and just pulled them both down. Tossing it over his shoulder, John grabbed an energy sword and deactivated it, but heard a noise behind him. Turning quickly, he saw only an old man, with a thin white beard and a younger woman beside him. He waved her off as John made his way towards him. “Sir, you really shouldn’t be here, it isn’t safe. I’ll call for an evac team to pick you up.” “That won’t be necessary.” The old man spoke English perfectly, but had a Chinese accent, although did not have any extremely well defined characteristics that would show such. “There is something you should know.” “Sir, I must insist-” “You cannot take me! And you will listen!” the old man snapped. Why doesn’t he listen to me? I’m doing this for his own benefit. “You must hear my words, for they only portray the truth which you do not yet understand, yet must.” Now curious as well as somewhat annoyed, John stopped for the moment and listened to the old man. “It is said that one stick is easy to break, but that many are difficult. The more sticks there are, the harder it becomes to break.” The old man took one out of a pocket and broke it, and dropped the pieces. Then took a handful, as much as he could fit, and tried again, but failed. “Try.” Taking the sticks in his hand, John crushed them easily, with little effort. The old man walked over to a large block of cement, recently taken off of the house behind the old man, perhaps his own. “Can you break this?” This is pointless. “Why should I?” “If you cannot break it, you may say so.” Well, I’m still waiting, so why not. Picking up the cement block, he focused on breaking it, and pushed with all his strength. It started to crack, then broke in half. “You have a gift which few have been granted,” the old man said while stroking his beard. “The power to break one stick is possessed by all. The power to break many is possessed by few. But the power to break from something, so strong that it could be considered that each stick were a single atom of it, is something only few ever have been able to accomplish. As I believe less than I have counted with my fingers. Samson was one of them. You are another.” “But this is just a physical strength. It doesn’t mean anything for battle.” “Ahh, it has everything to do with battle. And with everything else in life. You see, breaking the stick is a challenge to be overcome, just like fighting a war and feeding an animal. Some are simpler than others. One must always be aware of how many sticks he can break, for if one loses that, then he loses all. But you can do much more than that. I have seen it. So have you. The enemy force is not simply an enemy, a target. To you, they are but a challenge, as every enemy is. Soon, you will learn this. There are others you must deal with, and they will be heftier than the boulder you had so carefully disposed of. This is what makes you special. Remember, the power is not in your muscle or bones, but in your heart, mind, and soul. You have conquered two of these, yet the third keeps you from where you can be. Find it, and not even the greatest force can plunge you into darkness.” Two Warthogs drove up the street, turning John’s attention away from the old man. Will drove one while Linda drove the other, Fred holding the turret in Will’s car. “Ready to leave whenever you are, sir.” “Fine, let me just say good-”turning back to where the old man had been, and seeing him walk back into his house. He let a few seconds pass, where he was completely dumbfounded by what had just happened, but shook it off. “Let’s go, we’ve got a cruiser to take down.” Getting on the turret, the light from the Covenant’s ship died, and it started to rise off from its position, going higher and higher into the sky. “Master Chief, this is comm. HQ. Lord Hood requires you to meet him at coordinates 29344 by 49 as soon as possible.” “HQ, we’re about five minutes away from those coordinates. Stand by, we are en route.” “Understood. Comm. HQ over and out.” “You heard the man, let’s move out. We don’t want to keep the Admiral waiting.”

Chapter 24 1st Age or Rebirth/ Aboard Flagship Royal Pain (haha, just kidding…need a name) Two Pelicans fought Earth’s gravity and atmosphere to leave its magnificence, flying high and away from the single planet that brought life to the simple creatures known as humans. They seemed to fight its pull with a tenacity seen in only one other situation, during a battle. The aircraft, made to be able to work in space, but still meant for air, groaned from the adamant beating its hull took, but as it soared out of the upper atmosphere, the burden lessened to nothing, then it was pulled in the opposite direction. They’re arrival would be in only 15 minutes. The deadline was placed at 20. Smiling briefly, a pull was felt on the back of his white armor, one immediately fixed by a strong pat. They come bearing high hopes, these humans. I must not disappoint them, for without this, they would soon become an extinct race. Only a few life forms were meant for that kind of punishment, and I intend to have my way with them soon. Very soon indeed. ****** “Master Chief, your orders are simple. Stand firm and ready. Don’t give them the slightest impression of anything. This needs to go smoothly, or our entire race could be done for.” “I understand. Sir, what if this is just a plot to lure us in, and kill us while they have the chance. We will be outmanned and outgunned substantially.” The intercom played static for a moment, the first Pelican breaching the upper atmosphere, then the other reconnecting the link. “I’ve thought of that, although the Elites usually have too much pride to resort to such tactics. In my experience, they’d rather die in battle with honor than have a battle without any, even if more lives are saved.” “True, but they may see the leaders of Earth as an enormous threat to the completion of their takeover of Earth, and ridding of you might give them the edge they really want.” “Perhaps. Perhaps it’s the Spartans that they want to eliminate. I guess we should just hope they don’t think like you and I. Regardless, take a full cache of weapons with you. They might see it as a sign of weakness if we don’t. And if they’re plans are not up to par with the normal standards we’ve set, and then let loose on them. But make sure they take the first shot. I don’t want to finish this war, especially because of some misunderstanding. Our history has enough of those as it is. Hood, over and out.” Turning back to the seated Spartans, they looked ready to go through hell, come back, and take out every player in this war, all without incident. They relaxed as best they could, and even though they had trained to be prepared for such situations and to be able to handle any amount of stress, this was different. The actions they take today could shape the fate of humanity for the rest of time. Or, if things go poorly, until tomorrow. His own thoughts turned back to the old man he’d seen only a short time ago, as he pondered exactly what he meant. But the only thing he had understood was that he didn’t understand. He could break more than one stick. So? I can break a lot of sticks, with and without the armor. It makes it easier to break. I couldn’t break the rock without it. But what did he mean by breaking sticks? The military academy had taught classes meant for understanding encryptive sayings, messages, etc., to search for hidden meanings behind them. This was one class he wished was part of the Spartan program. Taking the memory apart, turning it around, and trying to understand it as best he could only made it harder to grasp, as though the meaning were just within arm’s reach, but whenever he tried harder, it flew farther away. “Chief. Chief!” John snapped out of his dazed state, and craned his head over to the sound of Linda’s voice. “Sleeping on the job again?” “No, not really,” he said, smiling at how no matter what he said would indicate that he actually was sleeping. “I was just thinking about what happened just past the closed section of highway 21.” “What, with the huge body count you left there?” “No. It’s a short story, but we have time… ****** The Covenant ship was small, smaller than any flagship seen before, and they had seen quite a few. It still had the same exact color and look of constant purple in different shades. John had always wondered why everything aboard was purple. At first he thought because the substance the ship relied on mostly was simply that color, although there was no way of truly telling. Then the idea of using it as a relaxant came to mind, and knowing that the Covenant were a highly spiritual group of races also supported this theory. This may not be the best time to ask, but perhaps soon. The entire landing bay was empty, except for two Elites that John had recognized as honor guards. Their bright orange and black suits stood out tremendously to the ship, giving the perception that they were more powerful than it, as though the space around them pushed the ship away to bear their presence. Both wielded energy swords, yet they remained inanimate. Admiral Hood and a few other high ranking officials exited their Pelican, and the Elites started walking out towards a door on the far side of the landing bay. None of the officials were recognized by anyone but Hood, but they were not questioned either. With the situation on Earth, it wasn’t doubtful that they were the replacements for the previous leaders, who had been killed in the conflict. As they walked across the landing bay, John and Will took point in front of Hood and the rest, while Fred and Linda stayed back and watched their six. This was customary for any meeting between current enemies, although John wasn’t sure how the Covenant would see it, or at least the Covenant he was meeting with. He quickly checked his ammo count and made sure to put his gun on fully automatic. If all hell broke loose, he’d be ready. ****** Panting. Screaming for air. Clawing for just a gasp. The blackness of space gave no warmth, and only lulled death for a new pray. Air tank running low, only a few minutes left. Must reach the ship! Opening eyes. Stars all around, with the sun in view as well, but just another distant star. Only one stuck out, the target. It glowed from the sun’s reflection, but was still too far to reach. To destroy. There must be vengeance, a last plea from a fallen race. Nothing could stop him. Stay focused, don’t stop breathing. Just stay awake a minute longer and that monster will be gone forever. ****** The hallways were just as every other Covenant ship he’d ever been on, but John didn’t take any notice to that. The path they took had been cleared of all personnel, perhaps as a sign of courtesy, or just for the easy kill. His finger stayed glued to the trigger, and his eyes darted in every direction, scrutinizing any dark spot or corner. He also wished Cortana was here. Her input would be invaluable in this situation, as she could get into the Covenant battle net and tell him what the hell was going on. Being blind while surrounded by fire was never John’s idea of a good time. Taking a left on one corridor, then a right on another, more and more doors gave way for the group, allowing them to pass through. The two Elites never looked back, and kept a firm grip on their energy swords. John turned and nodded to Will, who immediately understood what he wanted, and thought appropriately. If it were a trap, those two would try to cut them down first, giving way for the Earth representatives. A plan formed, and if this was a trap, there would be no surprises, and definitely no mercy. Another door opened in front of them, but this one didn’t lead into another hallway, but rather a large chamber. Elites cluttered about the center of the chamber, all discussing some matter or other, but there were too many conversations do decipher. The two honor guards led them towards this epicenter, where the Elites moved out of the way, allowing their group to pass. At the center was a single Elite in a special white armor, one that John had never seen before, but he new that this one ranked highly above the rest. Three other Elites also wore an unknown armor, all identical to each others. They wore a large headpiece, which only reminded him of some kind of antelope’s horns. Their armor was much darker than any other in the room, a very dark tone of grey. They stood directly behind the white-armored Elite. “The negotiations,” said the Elite in a slow but eloquent English, “will now begin.” “We hope you’ll agree to the deal,” said a dead voice, from a dead captain’s daughter. For a split second, they all stood in shock as they looked for the source of the voice and found it, astounded. If the Covenant attacked, no human would have survived at that moment. ****** Just crack the hull and break through. Focus. Don’t lose focus. Break through. Slamming against the bulkhead as hard as possible only dented the seemingly living ship, surviving out in the cold of space. Only a minute of air left. Harder and harder, the hull started to give way. A crack opened and gave the chance to grab the bulkhead from the inside and pull it off, allowing passage into the beast. Falling in, pressure leaked from the hall, causing the doors ahead to close, but he had jumped through already. They know I’m here. I have to work fast. Taking a breath of fresh air, thoughts began to flow clearer. Catching his bearings and placement, his vision returned to normal and he clearly saw several Grunts ahead, all walking slowly away from him. Running behind them and snapping their neck’s one by one silently, the only thought that came to mind was whether or not their neck’s worked the same in relation to humans. They stopped moving, and that was all that mattered for the time being. Elites ran in, probably to see what had happened with the bulkhead, and he hid in a small dark corner, and stealthily left after they had passed.

****** Commander Keyes? The talks were underway, but John, as well as everyone else in the room, was dumbfounded by the Commander’s presence aboard the Covenant ship. Only a few days before, all he knew of Keyes was that Tartarus, Chieftain of the Brutes, had captured her and Sgt. Johnson to activate Halo, but hadn’t succeeded. But her being here, in this amount of time? Truthfully, it seemed quite possible, but highly improbable. This would be a story for the ages. The only downside was that nobody was at the luxury to hear that story, for more important matters ensued. The talks seemed to be going smoothly and quite well for the UNSC. For humanity. Still, he felt in no position to judge, but it was a relief to know that this wasn’t some trap set for them, to take out the leaders of Earth. Funny, he thought, that our original mission was to do just that. The universe seems to run on irony. Everyone else in the room simply watched the discussion, making a circle around the two main leaders. Suddenly, one Elite wearing red armor rushed in and was stopped, where his message was received by another higher ranking Elite. The message led from him directly to the white-armored Elite, who before hearing it excused himself from the conversations momentarily. He then whispered to the Elite, although John’s translation system was able to pick up on it. “This meeting was ordained by the Arbiter, and you dare disrupt it with any petty matter? You dishonor all Elites, and will be punished for this insubordination. Deal with this problem as you see fit, and do not interrupt again.” “I only wished to concern you with this matter because it has to do with them,” hinting towards John and the other Spartans. “Another demon has been spotted on board, and has already killed 15 of our warriors, as well as many of the lesser ones. I believe these ‘talks’ to be a deception, for them to gain control of this vessel.” “Do you have proof of this?” “Only the body count.” As the white-armored Elite turned away and started to come back to the center, John gave a slight hand signal to his Spartans, and they were ready for a fight. He had no idea who or what this other ‘demon’ was, but he wouldn’t let it stop the possible survival of the human race. “Humans, can you explain this treacherous attack on our vessel?” Lord Hood gave a hard look at the Elite. “No. We have no knowledge of such an attack.” “Then I will explain. One of them,” pointing at the Spartans, “has infiltrated this vessel from outside and has killed a portion of the crew. If it does not stop immediately, then you will all be killed, along with your planet.” “Wait! There aren’t any more Spartans alive. Whatever is attacking you isn’t with us!” Desperation showed on the tired man’s face, as he was so close, and suddenly had lost grasp of success. The Elite continued to look at him, while other’s yelled in their own dialect, too many for John to interpret. He stepped forward. “Do you know where this one is located? “No. It continually evades us, and we have been unable to find it’s location at all.” “Fine. As a sign of goodwill, we will find and take down this threat. Pull all your forces back and seal all areas, and we will deal with it.” Giving it a thought, other Elites protested, but this one nodded its head. “Spartan’s, move out.” He heard the orders to follow his suggestion from the Elite leader, but worried more about who could be doing this. The only other Spartan that had survived was Kelly, but her whereabouts were unknown. And if it was her, was Dr. Halsey here as well? Heading out the first door into the rest of the ship, John’s motion detector displayed an irrational character, a static blip that was not registered as a friend or foe. It went right through his position, cut out momentarily, and then was behind him. Looking up, the room was tall enough for something to be on the ceiling, and he knew that his motion sensors could not penetrate the ground of Covenant ships, so he had just found his target. Whatever it was, it was fast. Not wanting to startle anyone in the room, thus giving away the fact that they knew it was in the same room, John slowly moved out the door, but motioned to his team where the target was. His motion sensor stopped showing the static, and the last point it was at was directly over the white-armored Elite. Then it fell, and John dashed at the point it was going to land in. “Get down!” he yelled, although he doubted it would do any good. The Elites simply drew their swords and prepared for an attack, exactly the opposite of what he wanted. Knowing that whatever it was would simply be cut down, John lunged directly where it was going to land, and tackled the hard and heavy being. The sound of metal on metal, scrapping the ground underneath was enough to shake anyone, and everyone in the room was aware of the attack and waiting to strike down their foe. John was simply in too much shock to say anything or do anything, including letting go of his new prisoner. So was James, who simply sat still, not having any idea of what was going on exactly, but too tired to stress the issue. He would wait for a reasonable explanation.

Chapter 25 0634 Hours, August 30, 2552 UNSC vessel Circumference, Epsilon Eridani system near Reach station Gamma “Take cover,” he heard the Master Chief say over the intercom. Setting up the explosives as best he could, James finished tying them down when all hell seemed to break loose. “Blue two, I said fall back.” At that point, it was already too late. James looked up only to find a swarm of pink needles heading straight for him, and in the nonexistent gravity of space, there would be no escape. Setting full power to shields, he braces for impact as best he could, but there was little hope or time. His shields vanished, but before he could take a breath of air he was flung off the hull of Circumference, where the mission was to destroy the ship’s database to prevent that knowledge from falling into Covenant hands. They could not be allowed to find battle plans, strategies, Earth. One of the needles must have hit his jet pack, because he was being thrust off the hull and in every direction at once. There wasn’t enough time to focus on anything because of the speed he spun at, but he managed to slip out of it. “Blue-come in!” Static washed over the entire message, cutting out some parts of it, but James was able to make out the message. He grabbed the harness and covered the punctured area with a special solvent inside his ammo pack, but kept a hand over it, unsure whether it would work. “Can control the jet pack”, he replied, but reminded himself that most of the message would probably cut out. Looking up at the Circumference, he spotted a worse problem that he would have than losing control of the jetpack again: an entire Covenant force standing out there, all targeting him. “They’ve gone onto the hull! Be warned, they’re everywhere!” Before he managed any more, several bursts of plasma shot out at him. His shields where too low and too weak to sustain him from the firepower heading towards him, so he took his hand off the jetpack, hoping the solvent hadn’t worked. Ironically, it did, and several shots managed to splash across his shields and drop them, while James simply did the best he could to maneuver away from the rest of the shots. None managed to open his Mjolnir armor suit to the depths of space, but more shots were under way, and he was sitting there naked. Reviewing his situation, he could only see two solutions: use the jetpack as a shield against the oncoming barrage, and hope that it leaks again and allows him to get the hell out of there, or discharge his MA5B to propel him out of the way. Firing it would be much slower and controlled, and safer, but he might need the ammo later on, and he wasn’t sure whether it could move him in time. Placing the pack in front of him, James spied the smallest plasma burst and let it hit his pack, shooting it and him off at an obscene angle, and giving him a feeling of motion sickness he had never felt. Under the circumstances, he was glad that such a feeling seethed through his skin; it let him know he was still alive. Twisting and turning the pack hard, he managed to gain control of it again, but the gash was so large that the fuel would be spent much too quickly for him to reach any desired destination, or at least any destination to help finish his mission. For James, the new mission was to find a way back to any UNSC vessel, and the only one in the area he knew of was the Pillar of Autumn. The only other option was reaching the Reach station Gamma, which might not be around for much longer if the Covenant didn’t like the way it looked. More plasma fire came at him, but missed as he increased his speed. The fuel gauge already showed only a quarter of fuel left, and he knew there was no way it would get him to any of the two choices he had for survival. So he headed towards the enemy. The blue and green plasma streaked past him, moving too slow to hit him as James maneuvered past the randomly placed bolts. About halfway to the hull of the Circumference, the fuel was all spent, and he pushed the empty pack away from him, slightly adjusting his course and decreasing his speed. At that point, he was moving too fast to control, although if he threw the pack in front of him, the Covenant forces might see it as their target, not knowing exactly what they were firing at the first place, and the pack would partially eclipse him from their sight. The open path to the ship was all he needed. Covenant followed his plan precisely, firing more and more plasma into the pack, only melting it into more obscure shapes, while James was able to pull out his M6D pistol and stow away the heftier assault rifle, but waited to land right in the middle of his targets before firing. Each shot would slow him down and attract attention, while when he landed he’d be much more stable. At that point, one lone enemy opened fire on him. The shot was too slow to not avoid, but he was too far to let that one thing alert the rest. He aimed and fired, letting out a single bullet straight through the beast’s head. From the reports he’d read, the crippling blow reached a Jackal, a Covenant creature that looked birdlike, having skinny arms and legs and a long snout. The light orange skin color and dark eyes reminded him of a mix of eagle and iguana that took a long swim in an off-orange paint mix, but that didn’t stop them from firing at him. The carcass bounced off the hull and was noticed by a few more Jackals and Grunts, smaller and stumpier creatures. They looked around and tried to find what had killed their partner, although finding James must have been much more difficult without the bright white thruster on him, and his dark jade fit nicely with the blackness of space. Jackals, however, also had impeccable eyesight. One spotted him when he was 50 meters from the hull, and alerted the rest. They all opened fire independently, forcing James into maneuvers he’d never known he was capable of. Bending in every direction, this seemed like the ideal time to rid of the nuisance, and opened fire. Plunging several bullets into the front line warrior, they drifted off into space, blocking the view of him for the others to fire. Edging closer to the ship, James dropped all of the Jackals and Grunts before they could get a clear shot at him. The second he hit the ground, he polarized the soles of his boots, putting a current through them and keeping them planted on the metal hull. The hull was clear of all Covenant forces, but there was no entrance to the ship anywhere in his vicinity, and there was only another five minutes of air left in his suit. Opening a channel on all UNSC frequencies, all that played through was static, meaning that his suit was not powerful enough to reach either possible destination. He’d have to find a way out himself. Cycling through his nav points, the Circumference was displayed as nav point alpha, the objective. The Pillar of Autumn was displayed as nav point beta, although it was nowhere to be seen. Lastly, nav point gamma was the Reach station Gamma, which was directly in above of him, several kilometers away from his current position. Strange, he thought, the Circumference was docked to it. Maybe it never was docked, but the battle shook it off. But how did it get this far out? He looked up and saw it almost directly overhead, and scoped out the total distance with is suit, and found it to be 1.385 kilometers. There was no time to question this; the station moved farther away with every passing second. A plasma pistol floated right into his point of view, and he grabbed it, holding the M6D with his right hand. Aiming as best he could, James pushed off as hard as he could on the Circumference’s hull, kicking him at a steady pace towards the space station. ****** Running through the empty station gave James a cold shiver down his back, the only light available coming from his own helmet. He ran around, trying to find something he could use to get off this useless hunk of metal…an escape pod, enclosed detachable compartment, anything. There was no way he could get back to Reach or to any UNSC ship close enough to the planet to help out without better means of transportation, but every life pod was missing, and all computer systems were dead. Continually turning his head left and right to find some route for escape, despair began to cloud his judgment. As he started to think that there would be no way off this station, his personal training kicked in, a program he’d worked hard to get himself working and focused. Why are you a Spartan?! Why are you here?! Do you know why?! Because you worked your ass off every second of ever minute of every day, that’s why! You never give in, and you never will! The second you do, I’m going to jump out of this suit and throw you out an airlock myself, and keep the comm. open so you can hear me laughing! His view immediately sharpened, his pace increased, everything started to work better and faster. After years of Spartan training, James had always found himself to be the laziest of the crew, but hated being the last one in everything, or simply being the least caring. He loved what they did, and wouldn’t give it up for the world, but for whatever reason, he was just lazy. So every day, he forced himself to wake up at least 15 minutes before everyone else, fire at least ten more bullets than everyone else, finish in at least the top ten. James knew he wasn’t the best, but the drive he had kept him in the highest echelon of the Spartan ranks.

Because of this, every mission wasn’t just something to complete in order to help out the UNSC or a fellow soldier, but something to prove himself that he was able to do, something to show that he wasn’t the one marine who couldn’t, for whatever reason. No matter what the injury, how much pain there was, or how impossible success seemed, he always pulled through, because of the push he put on himself. Nothing that Sgt. Mendez could have said or did could scathe the depth of what James had set for himself, which simply didn’t allow for failure. Hell, the word wasn’t part of his vocabulary any longer. Having ran through at least half the station and not seeing a single way off didn’t halt him at all, only made him go faster. A few rooms back he noticed a ton of spare shuttle parts, and took a mental picture of the room number incase he’d need any of the parts inside. Room 209 B. As he continued on, he laughed to himself, wondering why the Covenant forgot about this random station, and why they didn’t just blow it out of space. But he dismissed the thought quickly, not wanting to mistakenly send some telepathic message that he wanted the station to be destroyed, especially while he was on it. Maybe the lack of Oxygen is getting to me, he thought. Almost back to where he had started from, two vacant escape pods sat silently only 30 meters from where he had entered from. He almost hit himself in the head for missing them, although it was difficult to see in the dark, and he needed to decide a path to take. I’ll laugh at this later. Tapping the control panel, nothing happened. Trying again, no light came from it, and James could only guess that all the systems were down, including those for the escape pods. That also meant life support was dead, and that the air he was breathing would be gone quite soon from the hole he made getting it. The eerie darkness and quiet might have been getting to James, although he also thought that the situation was hilarious. He couldn’t help it. Every system was off, he missed the life pods and went around a station three kilometers in diameter only to find the escape pods right next to where he started, and now all the power was shut off. As though the universe could do anything else to make his day. Pulling his right hand back and balling it into a fist, James smashed the control pad, hoping to open it by any power left over in the station from failsafes. It didn’t. So James grabbed the door and the bulkhead, and pulled apart as hard as he could. It slowly gave way, and when he could fit himself through, he stopped and got in. He jumped into the cockpit and hit several controls, but none of them responded, also having no power. James opened up a small panel on the left arm of his suit, and took out a wire and connected it into a small port on the console in front of him. Setting his suit to act as a defibrillator, he pulsed the ship once, waited for his own power to recharge, then tried again. Still not working, he gave it one more try. The escape pod’s lights flickered on and all systems became functional. The door behind closed as best it could, and fired off warning signs that the air pressure would drop slowly after leaving the station. Not caring, he punched the keys in furiously, wanting to get off the station and back into battle. In no time at all, it flew back towards Reach, where he could help out his team. ****** Searching the sky above the planet Reach was devastating, to say the least. Reach, where James was raised, trained, and had spent most of his life, was being swarmed by Covenant vessels. How long was I in that station? But it didn’t matter anymore. The Covenant always gassed the planets they managed to take control of, and this one would be no different. All of the Spartans, with the exception of Linda, John and himself were down there, fighting to stay alive. All the Super Mac guns were not in orbit anymore, nor could they be considered Mac guns. The air inside the escape pod was running very thin, and James set his suit to pressurize most of it inside his suit, then close it off from the venting atmosphere. It would only give him around ten minutes of breathing time, but it would have to do. A lone spatial distortion came through on his computer monitor, a very erratic one, meaning that a UNSC had escaped, but he could only guess which one. He was not at the luxury to look behind the escape pod, as it was never meant to look back at its previous destination, and therefore had no aft cameras. Trying to get a read on the ship was also a waste, as it was already gone while the computer scanned its long UNSC vessel code. Several more slipspace ruptures opened, with at least six Covenant corvettes going through, and more heading away from Reach. Some of them seemed to be on a direct course for him, but there wasn’t enough power on the ship to maneuver with, and he couldn’t waste any of it anyways. He powered down all systems and let the pod drift in the direction he set, and hoping that the Covenant wouldn’t get too curious about what he was doing. It was strange that all those Covenant ships had gone to track one lone vessel that managed to escape. James knew that the Covenant were very thorough, but this seemed ridiculous. Why chase one ship? The Pillar of Autumn? Eight minutes of air left. This was no time to wonder about the mysteries of the universe, especially while he knew that the Spartans down on the ground would still be alive. Checking the distance from him to Reach, there was no way he could reach it in the small escape pod. There had to be another way… Scanning the surrounding area of anything he could use, he found that there were still many wreckages of fallen UNSC cruisers, frigates, corvettes, etc. He needed to find one with a working propulsion system, and with some working atmosphere. The problem with that was the Covenant did a good job of cleaning up after themselves. They would soon target the wreckages and rid the surrounding area of anything Human. For now, it seemed safe enough, and the Covenant continued to orbit Reach. Five minutes. Damnit! James initiated the scan, but he didn’t know whether he had the time or not. With the huge debris field, it could take the computer from a matter of minutes to days to complete. He stopped the scan and reset the parameters to something more fitting for his situation, and set all power to the scanner. As the computer searched for more hospitable settings, he got up and checked the rest of the pod, hoping to find something that may come in handy. All of the seats were supposed to carry first aid kits inside them, but none did. He checked the very back and a lone kit, containing anything he’d need for quick field repairs. There was also a backpack with a few clips of ammo for his MA5B and M6D. Tossing the first aid in the pack, he turned to the other side of the pod and searched, but found nothing. Coming back to the ‘captain’s’ chair, he noticed on the right a small cylinder, completely bronze and quite capable of saving his life. The air tank would come in quite handy, especially if he didn’t find a place with a localized atmosphere in the next three minutes. It read full, and he popped it in the pack, and slipped it on. ‘Scanning complete’, read the computer. Three ships came onto the screen, the Liberty, Triumph, and Queen Mary. The Queen Mary and Liberty were too far to reach with the few minutes of air he had left, but the Triumph would do. Setting an intercept course for it, James gave all the power over to engines and made best speed to his new frigate. ****** The inside of the Triumph was all but welcoming, pitch black and very cold. The external temperature made sure that if James ran out of air, he wouldn’t be able to use the air tank because he’d end up freezing to death. Instead, because he was in a huge rush to find a spot where he could breath freely, the air tank played a support role, giving him a boost throughout the hull. Staying as close as possible to it, he searched for a way in, but every layer of metal had melted over itself, closing the entire ship off from the outside. Only a minute left on his air countdown, James forced his heartbeat and breathing to slow down, knowing that he couldn’t waste any of it. He’d done this before as well, but now counted more than ever. Setting his motion tracker on maximum, a small blip appeared on it, just at a portion of the hull to his left. Quickly making his way there, more blips appeared, indicating that people were still alive inside, and that there was breathable air; both a plus and minus. Having any extra marine around would help out tremendously, and it at least gave him the satisfaction of knowing some were still alive. But because they were inside, he couldn’t tear through the hull like he did before. There would have to be a way around. But I’ve searched the surrounding area already! Trying to figure out what options he had left put a shiver down his back, as he found none. The lack of breathing was getting to him, and he put his hand on the hull, by accident slamming against it. Then voices played through his head, very quiet, but voices nonetheless. He turned up his internal speakers as loud as possible, and the voices could be made out quite legibly. They were from inside the ship, and his hand was carrying the sound through the hull and his suit to him. They heard the crash against the bulkhead, and were yelling something. “Control panel-left 20 meters-keycode 631-airlock.” Getting the immediate drift, James flew over to the described destination, and found the console, which seemed to be dead, but he now had a feeling that it wasn’t. Pushing in the code, the doors opened, and he tumbled inside, his lungs now burning for air. The doors closed behind him and the hissing of air became audible, but James simply sat very still, keeping his focus, staying awake. Staying alive.

When the opposite doors opened, he nearly collapsed and lost consciousness, but he fought the darkness, refusing it from taking him. There was no time to black out. He was able to make out several figures standing over him as he panted, catching his breath. Limping on the ground, he heard one say, “Wow, what happened to that special Spartan training?” Looking up, James shook off the black spots in his eyes and got up. “I’m here, aren’t I? Where’s the CO?” “Dead,” another one said. “And so are the next 20 in line afterwards.” Sighing, James saw the distraught in the eyes of these soldiers, these marines. “Fine, I’m taking command of this vessel. Is this the entire crew?” Silence was the only answer, but he knew that the Covenant could turn on them at any moment, and there wasn’t time to spare. “When I ask a question, I expect an answer. Is that clear?” “What’s the point?” A skinny blond-haired man to his right looked at the ground, holding a loaded pistol. “We’re all going to die anyways.” “Not on my watch. If we work together, then our chances of survival will only be greater. For that, I need cooperation.” “Yes, this we’re what’s left of the crew,” a dark haired and beat woman said, looking as though she was in the part of the ship that exploded. James counted 16 people in the single room, several of which were injured. He would need as many able bodies as possible. “I need to know everything left on this ship that we have. Equipment, food, weapons, the lot. Do we have a running computer system and an AI?” “Negative sir, the AI was terminated as soon as the ship was demobilized, but the computer system should be operational. We haven’t tried it though, because the Covenant might pick up on it and blast us out of the sky.” “That’s a chance we’re going to have to take. Search the ship of all sectors with and without atmosphere and for anything we could use. And find out how much air we have left.” “Yes sir!” “Is there a doctor here?” “Yes, I’m a doctor.” A dark man came forward, holding a first aid kit and a small smile. “I need an assessment on all the crew members, including yourself, with physical conditions. I need to know what everyone can take.” “Yes, right away. What about yourself? I can give you a quick check up if you like.” James hadn’t actually thought about his own health, probably for too long, but there were people definitely worse off than him. “No, I’m 100%.” The doctor nodded and headed off, giving James a chance to run a quick bioscan. He hadn’t been hit by any plasma, although he got close enough, and it showed him in top condition, other than a minor lack of oxygen to his brain. Nothing he wouldn’t get over in a few minutes. “Sir, I’ve got what you asked for.” Walking over to the computer system, an list of items were available. It read: Inventory Food storage: missing Weapons cache: destroyed Atmospheric pressure: 90% average Water storage: missing Fuel: measured at 40% Cryogenic freezing tubes: operational “Ok, then I’ll need to know if we have any of the necessities available and ready here. Food, water, whatever. The atmospheric pressure is leaking, and I need that leak found and stopped, or its going to get real cold real soon, and we can’t risk that. You”, pointing to the first able-bodied marine he saw, “try to find that leak. Take whomever you need.” “Yes sir!” “Ok, so we have fuel, which means we might be able to get out of here.” Leaning closer to the screen to make sure he didn’t misread it. “Where are those cryo tubes?” “Unknown. Searching now.” Taking a moment to look around, James finally noticed the full extent of the problem. With maybe enough food and water for a few days, and only enough fuel to get around a few of the neighboring systems, he needed a plan to get out of there. And fast. “They’re two stations over, just outside the open spot. Only you’ll be able to get to them.” “How many are there?” “I show 50, but 34 are dead in space. There are also 27 more being occupied, but I can’t tell whether their still working.” “Fine, I’ll get them. You’re in command…” “Alper, Sir. Any orders before you get them.” “Plenty. Is this the only space left, or are there more rooms with breathable atmosphere?” “There are two more rooms, but they’re hit pretty bad.” “That’s fine. Have a few people go to each room. We need to conserve the air reservoir collected here, at least for the time being. And get me a list of all working systems when I get back.” With that, James headed back for the airlock. With 90 minutes of fresh air at his disposal, he didn’t want to waste a second of it. ****** Getting back out of the airlock was much more comfortable than the first time, even though the load wasn’t nearly as great. As he reached the new bridge, Alper ran up to him. “Alper reporting, sir! I have the information you asked for.” “Good. Do we have propulsion systems?” “Negative. The closest thing we have is the Slipspace drive, which is fully functional.” “Good, charge it up nice and slow. Did they find the air leak?” “Yes sir, and they patched it up. But the life support is basically shot, with only the air recycling system working at half capacity. We’ve tried repairing it, but nothing’s worked.” “It’ll have to do. Do we have any other means of transportation?” “There may be one working Pelican, but it’s stuck down in docking bay 23, which is sealed off completely. Other than that, it’s perfectly ready to head out.” “How about the air? How much do we have left? “Enough for two, maybe three days. Nothing more. Not with everyone we have in here.” A plan started to form in James’ head, a way of escape. He turned back to the cryo tubes, and counted them again. He calculated their dimensions to that of the inside of the Pelican if it were stripped clean. Lastly, he counted the crew members. 16 cryo tubes and 17 people here. And someone has to pilot the Pelican… “Sir?” “I’ve got an idea. Get everyone here.” “Yes sir!” She ran off and grabbed everyone who was able to get up and come over, and the crowd circled James, as he finalized the plan in his head. When everyone assembled around him, he set his external speakers to be just a twinge louder, just so everyone would hear him. If they missed it, there might be fatal repercussion. “Alright everybody, listen up. We may be able to get off this boat and back to Earth, but it’s a long shot. Everyone will go into these cryo tubes, and I’ll put you all in a deep freeze. There’s enough space in that Pelican to fit all of them with you inside, and that’s exactly what we’ll do. The power generator in the Pelican will be able to give power to all of them quite easily, meaning everyone will be able to stay that way for a while. We’ll program the ship to open a small Slipspace opening just in front of us, small enough so the Covenant might not detect it, but big enough for the Pelican to go through. Then it’ll fly directly to Earth, which should be about a month trip. And from there, a distress signal will be let out, and we’ll be picked up.”

“Wait, the Covenant will be all over us as soon as we open a rift to Slipspace. How are we going to avoid that?” “We won’t. They won’t see it coming. I can set the rupture to be so small that it would appear like static on their systems.” “Wait wait wait,” the blond-haired marine said, holding both palms out. “You said there were only 16 cryo tubes. But with you, there’s 17 of us. What’s the deal?” “No deal. You all get in the cryo tubes while I pilot the ship. When you get back to Earth, you are to report to wherever you get sent.” “But sir, you are much more needed than the rest of us,” Alper broke in. “We’re expendable. You aren’t.” “Nobody is expendable, and as the CO here, I am ordering everyone to follow my instructions to the letter, no questions asked.” “Sir, I’ll go in your place.” “You can’t pilot the Pelican Alper. And nobody else will take my place whether they can or not.” The blond haired marine’s head darted back and forth between the two of them, then finally let out a blood curling scream. “Both of you are going!” He then proceeded to draw a pistol from a hidden holster, and pointed it straight at his head. “Both of you are getting in those cryo tubes! I’m the only pilot on board, and I’ll be taking us in.” “Put the gun down marine. That’s a direct order.” “No! Why should I follow you’re orders when they are wrong! Alper’s right; we’re expendable. You’re a Spartan, a super soldier. You are supposed to be our last hope against the Covenant! I can’t let you go down like this.” “Fine. Just give me the gun, and I’ll let you pilot the Pelican-” “No way! I know you guys are smart! You’ll just take the gun and force me into that cryo tube, and take my place. This gun stays pointed right here until I see you get in the freezer.” Trying to think his way out of this situation seemed pointless, but James could only smile at the marine. He was willing to give his life for another soldier, and would even force it if necessary. “Ok, you win. Everyone keep a three meter radius away from this marine. I don’t want any accidents going on. Let’s get to work people, we don’t have much time and there’s too much to do!” As everyone able went off to prepare for the mission, he went up to the marine, and extended his hand. The marine cocked the gun. James pulled his hand back quickly, but smirked at the soldier, who gave the same back. ****** Giving one last check to all the systems. Cryo tubes, check. Slipspace program, check. Course settings for Earth, check. The cryo tubes were stacked on top of each other to make room for them all, and on the edges two were on their sides. James had to set his above the rest, which we wasn’t sure whether it would be stable because of the weight of the suit, but it was a necessary risk. If anything happened, he would have to get out and get everyone else out, something that they wouldn’t be able to do without his strength in moving the top ones off the bottom ones. The pilot, a Private Sammy Deekes, gave the thumbs up to him just before he entered the last one himself. After getting in, Deekes waited a good few minutes and checked the tube, making sure it was secure like the rest of them. Satisfied, he started up the engines, very gently, and the Slipspace program countdown timer was displayed on a screen to his right. Thirty seconds. Deekes was immediately reminded of his first car, an old beat up Scorpion, the hottest car 20 years before he got it. It was a piece of junk, barely able to run, even though it looked good. But after 2 years of scrounging up money and working hard on it, he brought it back to life, gave it style, and an engine that could mow down anything else around. The first time he drove it in a street race, he new he was going to win, that the other guy had no chance. He had that feeling again. ****** United Nations Space Command Transmission 11932Q-13 From: Private First Class Sammy Ryan Deekes To: Lisa Zansky (civilian identification number: 10144-349-GQS8374) Subject: None Classification: Personal Log Entry /start file/ Lisa, It’s been so long since I last saw you. Your golden hair, shiny eyes, beautiful dark eyes. I can imagine your physical beauty as my last thoughts as I travel with a crew in the darkness of space, but it’s cold can never reach me. Not while you are here with me. Reach has fallen. There was nothing anyone could do. I know your family was there, and I’m sorry. We gave it our all, but they were just too strong. Too powerful. But never mind that. All I want to think about now is you, and your beauty. But not just the physical beauty, everything. I will miss our great talks, the loving conversations that would last all night, the elegant way you did everything… I just hope that I’ve been the best I could be for you. I regret missing your last birthday, and our anniversary. But it was necessary. I love you Lisa. That’s what I’m fighting for. For a life for you, and our child. As long as nobody forgets what we fight for, we cannot lose this war. I have faith, and you must too. Take care, and keep your head down, but your spirits high. It’s all we have, at least for a little while. With love, Sammy

..... that sucked...... just kiddin AWESOME!!! cant wait for the next one.

Nice......I liked the crazed marine part. Just one problem. The pelican doest have a slipspace generator. How is it suppost to traverse through slipspace? Maybe they have the software, but they definately don't have the hardware.

That was awesome I can't wait til the next chapter.

i never said anything about the pelican using a slipspace drive. the Triumph opened a path to slipspace and the pelican went through it.

Yep, I think what he's asking is how the pelican can travel through slipspace. I dunno though, it doesn't reallly matter to me, great job. O yea- Grizzo- if you ever come back, I took your 4400 post

NOOOO< YOU B4ST4RD, NOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! HOW COULD YOU!!!!!!!!!! YOUR LYING ITS A MISTAKE I HAVE THE 4400 POST ITS JUST BROKENN!!! -blam!-!!!!