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First Contact by retsamolah



First Contact; Chapter 1: Harvest
Date: 20 July 2003, 7:08 PM

Harvest, November 22, 2519
The new colony was humanity's first attempt to spread further than 4 Lightyears from Reach. The ships had arrived in the planet's system almost a year ago, and only now were the first civilians being ferried in on the new, faster colony ships.

Soon I can go home, thought Captain John Mason, as he sat on the bridge of his cruiser, the UNSC Santa Maria and watched the 3rd colony ship of the day, make it's way to the docking station to offload it's passengers for transport planetside. He had been stationed there since the first discovery of the world, and had cleared it for occupation almost immediately. The Military Scouting of new worlds was just a formality, he thought. The UNSC could just as easily send a satellite or probe to diagnose a possible colony world, but they always sent a Halcyon Cruiser of the fleet. What was the point, Mason asked himself. Humanity had no enemies. The inter-human wars were a thing of the distant past after the third world war united humanity under the United Nations alliance. John saw no reason why he should be here, sitting in his starship, exactly 5.46 lightyears from his nice warm bed on Reach.

A blue figure appeared on the holographic display next to him. "Colony ship, Lusitania, is requesting permission to dock," stated the figure matter-of-factly. Mason answered without looking up.

"Clear them," he said. "And why do you need to ask me, Athena? You know perfectly well that nothing is going to go wrong." The AI, named for the Greek god of war, answered with a knowing smile.

"I figured I had better stop your day dreaming. You depress yourself too much. And you never know, this might just be the day we lose a ship for the first time."

"Whatever," said the captain, and settled back down into his command chair. The AI image disappeared beside him. A moment later, it reappeared.

"Sir, I'm getting a transmission from an unknown source on all channels. I've been trying to determine the origin, but it is behind an encryption I've never seen before."

"Let me see it," said Mason tiredly, showing no trace of the urgency Athena was feeling. There was a pause, and a bizarre alien face covered in shining gold armor appeared on the display. It's four toothy, mandible-like jaws moved up and down as it spoke in thick, deep, English.

"Your existence is an affront to the Gods. They command your destruction!" Mason laughed as the display cleared and Athena's image appeared again.

"It's just some stupid hackers fooling around. Run the search programs and get them arrested."

"I don't know, Sir. That's the first encryption every to beat my scans," the AI persisted.

"Right," the Captain retorted sarcastically. "Like there's some fanatical religious alien out there with four chins that's gonna come kill us." He was more correct than he would ever know.

Suddenly, every alarm light on the bridge began flashing bright red. John Mason cried out with surprise as an almost beautiful, shining, silver starship materialized right in front of the bridge windows. He watched, completely awed, as a barrage of blue energy lanced from the alien ship's nose. Massive bolts of blue plasma struck the Lusitania along her entire long axis, instantly blasting her, and her 1000 innocent colonists from Reach into their constituent molecules. The ship turned slightly, and fired its devastating weapons directly at the bridge of his cruiser.

Time seemed to slow as the deadly bolts of blue plasma streaked through space towards the terrified human officer. He had time to utter a quiet: "Oh god," before they hit, blowing the lower section of his cruiser completely off the hull, and effectively depressurizing the rest of the ship.

Over 4000 Humans died without ever knowing what had happened. The people planetside saw only several bright flashes in the sky above them and could only wonder what had happened. They did not wonder for very long, however, as the rest of the Covenant expeditionary fleet exited slipspace, powered up their weapons, and opened fire on the unsuspecting colony. The atmosphere and crust of the planet were superheated to almost 100 million degrees, and instantly melted together into a massive black shell on which no life could possibly exist. In almost 15 minutes, the outlying colony world of Harvest had been reduced to nothing more than a superheated sphere of blackened glass and stirring phantoms.

The shining alien starships were already gone.



First Contact; Chapter 2: Probe
Date: 24 July 2003, 2:10 AM

Reach, November 22, 2519
      It was night on Reach in the control tower of Fleetcom HQ on the planet's main continent. The communications officers, along with everyone else who kept the colonial networks online, were asleep in their swivel chairs. Despite differences in planet rotational speed, all interstellar communications were held during the daylight hours at Fleetcom on Reach. Only in emergencies could transmissions be made, and emergencies were rare. The night crews were accustomed to long, peaceful nights in the control center. Thus, no one noticed when the tiny yellow light marked HARVEST blinked out of existence on the star map. A soft alarm sounded, but would not be noticed until morning, 7 hours later.

Reach, November 23, 2519
      "Hey Bob, we got a problem at coordinates 42, 36, 77 on the star map!" called Jim Henderson, the junior comm. officer to his boss.
      "That's the Harvest system," replied the communications manager Robert Youngs and jogged over to join his subordinate. Anything to do with Humanity's newest colony was very important.
      "I don't know, Sir, when I checked the status of each colony, Harvest was just gone, not even positioning and computer communications, and those should never be off."
      "Hmmmm," mused Youngs. "Check your gear; it's probably just an equipment problem." Henderson punched several keys and flipped on the scanning program master switch.
      "Running diagnostics now, Sir... Things are fine on our end and there's no way to tell what's going on there. The link is completely severed." Youngs shook his head in frustration. Such problems were rare, but caused him a lot of anxiety until they were solved.
      "Shit," he said, speaking the only word he could think of that would do justice to the situation. "This had better not be a major problem. Send a probe to find out what happened. We'll know in a few days."
      "Yes, Sir."

High Orbit Reach, November 23, 2519
      With a silent flash, Argo, the tiny deep space probe detached from the orbiting station and launched in the direction of Harvest. 900 miles out, the automated flight systems engaged the boosters and the probe quietly disappeared into slipspace.
      The probe was one of the only unmanned UNSC vessels capable of slipspace travel. It was also the smallest ship in the fleet, measuring in at about half the length of a Longsword and bullet shaped. Despite its small size, Argo was an extremely sophisticated piece of equipment, capable of interstellar communication and long range scanning. It was even equipped with a prototype energy shield that the UNSC hoped to one day use on capital ships. Probes were used to search for new planets before the cruisers were sent to prepare and were very reliable. Argo would be the first one lost in a long time.

High Orbit Harvest, November 29, 2519
      Argo exited slipspace and immediately decelerated to normal space travel and activated its sensors, searching for the energy signatures of Human presence. Instead, a strange signature came back, one that the probe was not familiar with. It moved forward to investigate, when the source of the signature appeared right in front of it.
      A Covenant cruiser had remained to survey the planet and had hidden itself in slipspace until the predicted human investigation arrived. The ship powered up its weapons and fired a first shot in the probes general direction.
      Argo's simple AI understood one thing: that it was in danger. Probes were obviously not meant for combat, and had been programmed to evade and escape to slipspace. The tiny ship dodged up, then dove sharply downward in a preplanned maneuver, but it did not fool the Elite gunner, standing on the command deck of the alien ship. The hull of the covenant cruiser was momentarily illuminated by a small flash, and tiny metal pieces glanced harmlessly off the metal surface as it vanished back into slipspace.

Reach, November 29, 2519
      "What do you mean it's gone?" asked the UNSC Colonel who had received the problem report from Fleetcom HQ. His head was floating in the holographic display above Robert Youngs' desk.
      "I mean the probe just disappeared. It is programmed to constantly transmit a very simple code just to tell us that it is still there. A termination of that transmission can mean only one thing: the probe was destroyed."
      "Destroyed!? You mean intentionally? If you are suggesting that there is another insurrection, you must be mistaken. The Eridanus insurrection was only suppressed a few years ago. There can't be another so soon."
      "Relax, Colonel," soothed Youngs. "It might have just hit a misplaced particle of debris or suffered a cataclysmic malfunction. Still, I would recommend a battlegroup or at least a warship be sent to determine the condition of the colony."



First Contact; Chapter 3: First Blood
Date: 24 July 2003, 4:37 AM

High Orbit, Reach, December 2, 2519
      Orders to investigate the disturbing disappearance of the Harvest colony were immediately set on the highest priority setting. The official decision had been made to send a full battlegroup in case a hostile enemy was discovered, so orders were patched through to the commanders of the Destroyer Heracles and the frigates Arabia and Vostok rerouting them to rendezvous above Reach and depart for their week-long slipspace journey to Harvest. Captain Veredi, commander of Heracles was a relatively new officer and this was his first high priority mission, so he set out to make everything perfect.
      "Send orders to Arabia and Vostok to form up for the slipspace jump," he told his AI, called Shiva after the Hindu Goddess of knowledge, and the other two ships moved quickly into formation below and to the sides of his larger Destroyer.
      "Shall I make the jump, Captain?" asked the AI.
      "Yes, Shiva. Synchronize the group's velocities and move us out." There was an almost indiscernible acceleration, and the stars out the bridge windows disappeared to be replaced with the monotonous blackness that would not change for their whole week of warp-travel. The two frigates which had been visible outside before the jump were now impossible to see, being both infinitely far away and infinitely close at the same time. Thus are the wonders of slipspace travel, thought Veredi, and retired to his quarters. While in slipspace, the ship could fly itself. The week would be a long one, but come their arrival, he would face the most potent danger Humanity had ever seen.

UNSC Destroyer Pioneer, December 3, 2519
      Petty Officer Third Class, John 117, lay perfectly healthy in a bed in the warship's hospital ward. He had taken a bullet to the shoulder during the SPARTAN-II capture of the rebel Colonel Watts. The powerful, cybernetically enhanced, super-soldier had seen far worse injuries, but the medical staff seemed intent on making sure he was completely whole before sending him back to combat.
      John thought back to the combat scene. The close confines of the command center on Eridanus, the small group of elite troops guarding the insurrection leader, the 3 other Spartans by his side. He had seen the shooter, a young marine; seen him raise his weapon, but the bullets came too fast to dodge, even with his enhanced reflexes. Two 7.62mm rounds hit him just below the shoulder plate. John had barely flinched, squeezing off three quick rounds from his own assault rifle, right into the head of the shooter, and 4 of his cohorts. Only after the situation was secure did the follow-up crew discover the wound and send him immediately back the Destroyer's on board hospital. There he had sat since November 22, wondering when he would be allowed to go back to duty.
      John didn't like being inactive for so long. He needed to keep of his training, and had a strange feeling that he would need all of it very soon. He had followed the news of the mysterious disappearance of Harvest, and somehow knew he would soon become deeply involved in the whole conflict.

UNSC Destroyer Heracles, December 8, 2519
      Shiva's voice over the intercom woke Captain Veredi from a light nap in his quarters. "We are coming out of slipspace within the hour, Sir. You had better get to the bridge. I have no idea what we will find when we emerge here." Veredi sprung from his bunk, washed his face in the sink, and walked briskly to the bridge.
      "Ok, Shiva, the reason this whole battlegroup was sent is that there might be a hostile presence here. I don't want to be caught unprepared. Bring the ships up to combat alert Alpha. I want everyone at their stations."
      "Everyone, Sir?"
      "Everyone... And Shiva..." the AI's image appeared on the projector
      "Hmmm?"
      "Let's make a good impression here."
      "I've already begun." Alarms began to sound, and crewmen rushed to battle stations. He saw reports from the flight deck that all Longswords were manned and ready to fly. The main MAC guns were powered up and ready to use. The ship was fully ready for combat.
      "We are here, Sir," said Shiva.
      "Good. Everyone is ready. Bring her out now." This time, the deceleration was noticeable. The blackness in the windows was replaced with the same starry sky they had seen at Reach, but instead of the massive blue-green orb of Harvest, they saw a huge black sphere glinting slightly with reflected starlight from its glassy surface.
      "I don't believe this," said Shiva with awe. "Sensors show the entire surface of the planet is completely incinerated. It is just a sheet of blackened glass. I don't know anything that could possibly do that to an entire planet." There was no trace of any human occupation in the area. Veredi had no idea what to do. After several minutes of a stunned silence on the bridge, Shiva finally spoke.
      "Sir, I'm picking up some encrypted transmissions from this area. It's an encoding I've never seen, but from what I've been able to pick out, it is from one or two ships calling themselves the Covenant. Wait... there is a transmission sent here. You had better take a look at this!" Her image disappeared and was replaced by the same golden shining alien head that had appeared on the bridge of UNSC Santa Maria before it had been destroyed.
      "Your destruction is the Will of the Gods... and we are their instruments!" said the voice in deep English. As if to punctuate the stunning words that still reverberated around the bridge, the shining Covenant cruiser materialized about 200 miles off the bow of the Heracles, moving very fast. Veredi reacted quickly, however and shouted to the crew and AI.
      "Evasive Action! NOW!" The ship lurched sideways and downwards with as much speed as it could muster. The frigate, Vostok was not so lucky. It took a direct hit from the Covenant plasma cannon, and began drifting lifelessly through space, spewing thick black smoke from a burning hole in the hull. "Fire MAC guns," shouted Veredi, and the ship vibrated with the launch of the heavy explosive rounds. "Launch all Longswords," said the Captain as he watched the rounds streak towards the Covenant ship. The firepower that would destroy a small human destroyer struck the enemy cruiser near its flat, wide tail.
      Ripples of blue and white light erupted around the impact point, spreading in irregular circles around the ship's contours. It was unlike any ship explosion he had ever seen, but Veredi was almost sure he had destroyed the alien cruiser.
      But the ripples cleared, and the Covenant craft continued on unscathed. "They've got some form of energy shield around the ship," said Shiva loudly. "We need a weapon of a much higher magnitude to break through it." Just then, the Longswords engaged the enemy cruiser that began spewing out fighters of its own. These purple craft were smaller, but much more maneuverable than the large ungainly Longswords, and there were too many of them for the human fighter-bombers to destroy. Instead, they just tried to fly right through them.
      The first wave of about 20 Longswords broke through the Covenant fighters, and launched their volley of 3 high energy nuclear missiles at the massive enemy ship. They banked up and away, heading back to the Heracles to rearm. 60 ten-foot-long missiles streaked towards the ship. Such a barrage, Veredi knew, could destroy a fully armed human carrier. The missiles approached the Covenant craft, powered on their warheads and moved in to impact. Suddenly, lances of blue plasma fire streaked from small batteries all over the enemy ship. Missile after missile was shot down, until only about 15 broke through and impacted on the ship. The blue and white ripples, that revealed the energy shield, flared, but did not break, and the Covenant craft continued unharmed.
      "This can't be happening!" shouted Veredi in anger and frustration. The shining blue alien ship had resumed firing and the other frigate erupted into a silent fireball of light and energy. The waves of small Covenant fighters reached the Heracles, and began pounding on it with their small energy cannons. Most shots were deflected by the magnetically shielded armor plates, but several found there mark among exposed machinery and suddenly the destroyer was taking damage on all sides.
      Of course, no sound was transmitted through the vacuum of space, but Veredi could imagine the tremendous hiss of power as the Covenant ship fired its main cannon. Shiva took immediate control of the listing human craft and managed to dodge the massive energy bolt with a gut-wrenching turn that threw the captain and the rest of the crew to the floor. She turned the ship, and began powering up for slipspace, but took a heavy hit on the port side, just in front of the engines.
      "Sir, we've been hit!" shouted Shiva. "Part of the hull is shattered; I've sealed off all blast doors. I really hope we can make it to slipspace, because that's our only chance!"
      The crippled Heracles accelerated, and chased by several thousand bolts of superheated plasma, vanished into slipspace.



First Contact; Chapter 4: Planning
Date: 14 August 2003, 4:51 AM

UNSC Heracles, December 21, 2519
      Captain Veredi was in a state of shock. Being sent on an important, but still routine scouting mission, and finding on the other end the worst fear he, or any other human had ever faced was obviously quite unsettling. He thought back to the battle; his maneuver, hitting the alien vessel with a full volley of standard MAC rounds. They did nothing, he thought. These aliens are god damned invincible!
      Shiva had done all she could to patch up the ragged hole in the side of the starship, and managed to keep the ship in slipspace for most of the way to Reach. They had been forced to return to normal space after one of the bulkheads collapsed under the tremendous strain of passage through the slipstream. They were only .02 Lightyears from Reach, but Veredi swore at the prospect of spending an extra six days grinding through normal space.
      They finally got there, however, and were met by almost the full fleet after their initial transmission of hostile activity in the Harvest system. The crippled destroyer, still smoking from the massive wound in its side, was a startling sight to the welcoming commanders.
      Tugs immediately docked with the ship, and brought it up to the orbiting shipyards as fast as possible while the crew were led off on boarding pods to the UNSC Pharris where the Veredi's debriefing was conducted as fast as possible.

UNSC Pharris, December 19, 2519
      "Tell us exactly what happened," said one of the ship's psychologists who always accompanied combat captains to their debriefing. The stress of warfare in the stars had a history of causing valuable commanders to break down after heavy fighting.
      "I told you. There was an alien warship. It effortlessly annihilated the frigates and we barely managed to escape. It took a full volley of MAC rounds and 60 Sparrow Nuclear Missiles without a scratch. We re—"
      "That's impossible!" broke in Captain Raynor, commander of the Pharris. "That type of firepower would utterly destroy one of our heavy assault carriers. Nothing can survive that many hits."
      "This ship did," insisted Veredi. "As I was saying, intercepted communications identified the enemy as 'The Covenant', and 'Your destruction is the will of the Gods... and we are their instrument' was broadcasted directly to our ship. Shiva can replay the whole battle and transmissions for you. I'm sorry I can't tell you more; that is just what I saw."
      "It's all right, Commander," reassured the psychologist. "We will go over the tapes of the battle and decide on the fleet's course of action. None of this is your fault, please try to relax." Veredi did, but the obvious tenseness of the other men in the room was unnerving. They spoke quietly in low voices while he sat back, exhausted, in the chair.
      "All right; that will be all," said Raynor, and all the men got up and left. The psychologist walked with Veredi back to his quarters, leaving Pharris's commander alone in the briefing room. He punched up the vid of the first Human/Covenant battle, and shook his head sadly as he envisioned what this would mean for the Human race. If one ship can destroy almost and entire battlegroup and they are bent on our destruction, we are all going to die!
      The Frigate, Arabia, exploded on the holographic display."

UNSC Flagship Atlas, January 1, 2520
      On the first day of the New Earth Year, the full fleet under Vice Admiral Preston Cole had rendezvoused in the Reach system with orders to fly to Harvest and destroy the alien forces. Cole stood on the bridge of his Assault Carrier, brooding over the inevitable battle to come. He had seen the vids of Veredi's battle with one Covenant ship dozens of times, and was still awed by how the Covenant wrought such absolute destruction with such grace and power. The greatest military minds humanity could muster in its time of need had analyzed and reanalyzed every tactical advantage possible from those 30 seconds of battle. His 60 ship fleet had been retrofitted with the new Super MACs that would hopefully punch through that energy shield. He had been briefed again and again on how to maneuver in battle to get the highest efficiency from his ships, and how to use his weapons to deal the most possible damage. By all standards, the fleet was ready for combat with any opponent. However, Cole was still eating himself alive with worry over his ability to command the fleet. The pressure was tremendous; if he lost, Humanity would almost certainly fall. They would still have their small reserve fleets, but they would hardly stop a full on Covenant attack. Cole pressed the button to transmit his voice to every ship in the fleet.
      "UNSC Commanders, this is Vice Admiral Cole. We all launch in formation in 5 minutes. If we make full slipspace velocity, we will arrive in the Harvest system in about one week. I will speak to you again within a day of our arrival.
      God speed."



First Contact; Chapter 5: War in Space
Date: 16 August 2003, 9:56 PM

Harvest System, January 9, 2520
      The planet Harvest, or what remained of it, drifted lifelessly through space. The glassy, black mass shone dully in the light of its sun, but lacked the blue green glow that characterized all planets able to support human life. It was a saddening sight to the eyes of Vice Admiral Preston Cole of the UNSC Navy. He could not physically see the planet, but the picture on his holographic display was sharp enough to show the commander the absolute destruction that his enemy was capable of. His Flagship and the rest of Humanity's fledgling fleet were still in slipspace, and were nearing their destination.
      The nervousness that Cole felt, though he did not know it, was present in the mind of every crewman or pilot or soldier on every ship in the fleet, including squadron leader John Clark who sat in Launch Bay 7 preparing his sleek Dagger fighter for the inevitable combat to come. Clark had absolutely no idea who or what he would be fighting and that frightened him. The ace fighter pilot was a wizard in the cockpit of his revolutionary fighting machine, his own remarkable reflexes enhanced by the state of the art systems in his C742 Dagger Space Superiority Fighter, but he was more scared than ever in his life. In his career in the 117th Fighter Wing, he had fought all manner of human targets—rebels, computer simulations, even terrorists—but he had always won because of his ability to predict the enemy and counter his moves before he made them. These aliens, he thought, would fight completely differently than any other enemy he had ever faced, and that made them more dangerous to him than anything else he could think of.
      The loudspeaker in the hangar bay crackled to life and Clark raised his head to listen: "UNSC Fleet, this is Vice Admiral Cole speaking. We are nearing our destination, and we have no way of knowing what will be there. I want to bring the whole fleet up to combat alert Alpha. All Daggers and Longswords must be ready to launch immediately, and load the Super MACs and Archer Missile pods. You will all receive your tactical briefings immediately before we exit slipspace. ETA is 30 minutes; you should be briefed at about T-minus 10 minutes. Cole Out."
      What the Vice Admiral had said, was pure military, but Clark recognized the tension in his voice. He must be scared as hell, he thought. Well so are the rest of us, and he closed the weapons magazine on his fighters hull after making sure the 10 Sparrow missiles were locked into position correctly. He pressed the button to seal all panels and move his fighter back to the hanging rack on the hangar wall. From there it could be launched into space within 20 seconds of the order, if he was on alert. He moved to the pilot briefing room immediately, finding most of his pilots there early as well. All looked as sickly nervous as Clark did.
      Also in the slip stream, 20 Covenant ships lurked silently, awaiting the inevitable arrival of the Human fleet.

Bridge of the UNSC Flagship Atlas, January 9, 2520
      Cole gathered his composure as he prepared to speak to the fleet again. They were 5 minutes out, and the ship was fully alert. Alarm lights blinked red on the bridge ceiling and crewmen were tense as they moved from station to station preparing the ship for combat.
      "We are almost there," said Briseis, his AI. "You should tell them."
      "I know," said Cole wearily, and he picked up the microphone. "UNSC Fleet," he began. "This is Vice Admiral Cole. We are about to exit the slipstream. All hands to battle stations immediately. As soon as we emerge into normal space, I want a spread formation, with all weapons armed and our fighters ready to launch. Cole Out." The Vice Admiral looked at the blue glowing eyes of his AI's image, and shook his head sadly. "Exit slipspace on my mark," he said. "3, 2, 1, Mark."
      The blackness thought the bridge windows glowed suddenly a bright green, and with a flash, the stars and planets of normal space came into view. There was the blackened sphere of Harvest, hanging over them like some deathly sign of God. The 59 other ships of the fleet, 20 frigates, 15 destroyers, 10 Cruisers, 9 Carriers were spread out below him, already maneuvering for position. His own Heavy Assault Carrier, the pride of the UNSC Navy was above and slightly behind the other ships which spread out around him. He checked his sensors. They showed nothing but the empty void of space and the signatures of his own ships. There was a deathly silence on the bridge. Cole had no idea what to do.
      After what seemed like an eternity, Briseis spoke, the urgency in her voice shocking the bridge crew into action. "Sir, sensors detect several large objects about to exit the slipstream about 4000 miles off our bow. This can only be the Covenant, Sir." The Vice Admiral swallowed nervously, picked up the microphone, and spoke in a clear, hard voice.
      "I want basic firing solutions for the super MACs on those coordinates, and have all Daggers and Longswords ready to launch on my command. Everything should be on full combat alert. Our enemies are about to appear."
      Outside the ship, a huge green bubble seemed to fade into view above the dead planet Harvest. It quickly split into 20 smaller shapes, which quickly dissolved into sleek silver shapes of the Covenant war ships. They surged forward almost immediately, having emerged too far from the Humans to engage them directly.
      "Set the solution and fire on the largest ships first. Frigates move forward and begin engaging them directly using your Archer missiles. Super MACs reload immediately and continue the barrage," directed Cole immediately through the microphone. There were several resounding thumps which reverberated thought the whole ship, and the Vice Admiral watched the shining MAC shells steak through space, trailing their characteristic tails of silver light. The lead Covenant ship didn't have a chance. 30 heavy MAC rounds impacted it just behind the nose. Its shields flashed, but did nothing to stop most of the rounds from punching right through the armor, slicing through the reactor, and immediately compromising the ship. Atmosphere vented out through the massive hole in a torrent, spinning the ship around crazily. A smaller Alien craft had to dodge sharply to avoid a collision with the destroyed cruiser.
      Cole was heartened by the sight, but moved quickly back to combat alertness as the Covenant moved into range and began firing directly at the human ships. Heavy blue beams of plasma streaked through the void, striking one of the Frigates that had just begun launching its missiles. The ship literally disintegrated before Cole's eyes. The 20 missiles it launched punched through the shields of one of the Covenant, but did no damage. "Evasive Action!" he shouted, hoping to conserve his ships. He had a 3:1 numerical advantage, and knew he should win, but was still deathly afraid of the onrushing Covenant.

Launch Bay 7, UNSC Flagship Atlas, January 9, 2520
      John Clark had just climbed into the Cockpit of his Dagger when he felt the ship shake again with the second MAC launch. He had no idea how the battle was going, but was ready to give his life, if need be, to save his fleet. The cockpit canopy closed with a hiss, and he shifted into onboard atmosphere. He fitted the helmet to his head, and ignited the fighter's engines. He ran all preflight tests, making sure the rotating panels, similar to those on the Pelican Dropship, on which the Vector Thrust engines, forward swept wings, and missile pods were located. The ability to angle his thrust in any direction gave the Dagger unheard of maneuverability, but if one of them failed, his fighter was virtually destroyed.
His instruments showed everything working properly. He gripped his control column in readiness, and looked up to the large light above the huge hangar bay door. When it turned green, the door would open to the vacuum, and his squadron could fly out. He always felt like a race car driver when this happened, feeling his nerves tense up as the countdown began. All personnel had left the bridge, and he was free to go.
      The light blinked green and the massive doors opened with a hiss. His twelve fighter squadron all fired their engines in unison, jettisoning out of the hangar at close to Mach 15. Clark was forced back into his seat from the acceleration, but quickly recovered and activated his COM. "117th, 7th squadron, form up in our wedge formation, we have orders to engage enemy fighters, and if possible take out the smaller capital ships." He heard all his squadron members acknowledge his orders, and move close together into the bullet shaped formation which angled up towards the flashes of combat above.
      Clark's instruments showed 16 Covenant Capital ships remaining, each having launched 150 fighters. That was 2400 fighters to destroy. His own ships had suffered much heavier loss ratios. The scorched remains of 6 frigates drifted lifelessly through space, and 2 destroyers were also gone. He rocketed past the bridge, towards the enemy ships. Through his cockpit, he could see the clouds of enemy fighters heading towards his.
      He activated his weapons system and got a radar lock immediately, and fired one of his Sparrows. The missile streaked off its rails, lancing towards a maneuvering enemy fighter. A split second later, the purple, teardrop shaped alien exploded in a white puff of light, spraying bits of shining metal everywhere. He flew thought the explosion and held down the triggers on his twin 20mm cannons, spraying the high explosive rounds at anything in his path. Two more Covenant fighters burst apart before he broke through. "When you come out, launch 3 missiles at the Capital ship on our point, then break off for another pass," he shouted into his COM. He immediately fired his own missiles, watching 3 trails of white fire streak towards the bulbous nose of the enemy destroyer. His missiles were joined by 20 more and they impacted the ship almost exactly in unison. The Covenant ship's shields flared, deflecting the first several missiles, but the rest detonated on the ships hull, blowing a massive whole in it. Atmosphere leaked out, and a dozen nearby Covenant Fighters were ripped apart in the explosion, but the Capital ship continued on.
      Clark shouted out in rage, and fired another 2 missiles at the same spot before breaking off to rejoin his squadron. On his scanner, he watched the progress of his missiles. They hit on the screen, and the massive target blinked out of existence. "Yes!" he shouted exultantly as the Covenant destroyer behind him split into two pieces and drifted lifelessly away. "Everybody check in," he said immediately through his COM, and his enthusiasm was immediately quelled as he learned that 5 of his squadron mates were lost. He shook his head sadly, then spoke again into the COM. Head for another pass through the fighters, then head back to the Atlas for reloading. His squadron and the swarm of enemy fighters tore past each other once again, Clark emptying all of his missiles and most of his cannon rounds, destroying 5 fighters on this pass. Once again, he broke through, and headed back towards his hangar.
      On the bridge of the Atlas, Cole was in his element, issuing commands to every ship in the fleet, and watching with satisfaction as his orders were carried out. He looked out the windows, and saw his fighters circling and strafing in a massive dogfight with the enemy craft. Every few seconds, one of the small ships would light up in a puff of light, making the whole picture twinkle like the stars at night. At that point in the battle, Cole was sure of victory, having destroyed all but 5 of the Covenant ships. He was distressed, however by his own remaining numbers. He had lost 40 ships, all of the frigates, 10 Destroyers, 6 Cruisers, 4 Carriers, and God knows how many fighters.
      One of the gunners signaled, indicating that the MACs were armed again. "Fire," Cole commanded, and watched the silver rounds rip another Covenant ship to pieces. Before his eyes, the 4 remaining enemies rotated slowly, firing off one massive barrage that ripped a cruiser into useless fragments of metal, and vanished off into slipspace, leaving the clouds of fighters still swarming. "Lets deal with these fighters, then we can go home," he said over the COM.
      Through the massive hangar doors, John Clark had seen the Capital ships depart, and knew all he had to deal with were the remaining fighters. He had 10 new Sparrows loaded and his Cannon magazine was refilled. He was just waiting for his fuel tanks to be topped off, before relaunching into the massive chaotic dogfight taking place outside the ship. "Screw the formation," he said over the COM to the rest of his squadron also sitting waiting for their ships to be refueled. "Just go out and kill as many of those alien bastards as you can."
      Clark watched his fuel gauge reach full, and he launched back out of the ship. Almost immediately, a Covenant fighter arched down behind him, causing the threat sensors to erupt into a cacophony of blinking lights and alarms. Acting on instinct, he snap rolled to the left, as hard as he could, dodging the plasma torpedoes that streaked through the space his fighter had just occupied. The fighter was still on his tail, so he accelerated hard, jammed sideways on the control column, causing the wings to rotate in opposite directions, twisting the fighter around. He felt his craft spin a full 180 degrees in a split second and continue moving the other way with almost no loss of speed. The Covenant fighter swerved violently to avoid a collision, and Clark pumped its glowing engines full of 20mm cannon rounds.
      He rocketed thought the explosion, quickly closing the gap on another enemy. He fired a missile as soon as he got a lock, and watched the Alien ship burst apart. Another enemy darted right in front of his nose, followed closely by a missile from another fighter. Only instincts saved his life, as he nosed his fighter down hard, narrowly dodging the fireball that had been an enemy ship only a split second before.
      His sensors showed only one enemy craft left in the area. He looked around, and there it was; about 10 miles off the nose of his craft, streaking away from the battle. "I got him," he said into the COM, and shoved the throttle forward. The Dagger closed the gap in seconds, and he fired all his missiles as well as his cannon at the same time. The alien craft didn't have a chance. It exploded instantly in a spectacular cloud of fire and light, illuminating all the human craft in the area. With the cheers of his Squadron mates ringing in his headphones, Clark spiraled through the wreckage and back to rejoin his ships.
      Vice Admiral Cole stood on the bridge feeling intense relief. Two hours and 21 minutes after the Covenant had first emerged from Slipspace, the battle was over. Despite heavy losses, the humans had won. Cole was filled with hope that perhaps the Human race would be free of the Covenant forever. He was, of course, mistaken.







      Note: Chapter 4 of this series was much weaker than this one, having been written when i was dead tired and rushed to finish. This one, i feel, is much stronger, and hopefully you like it. My description of space combat is based alot on Steele's various fanfics, and id like to thank him for some of the inspiration.





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