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Halo 2: A New Hope by Sephiroth



Halo 2: A New Hope, Part 2
Date: 9 November 2002, 8:20 pm

      0637 Hours
      September 16, 2552 (Military Calendar)
      Military Intelligence Station, Sol System



      After Dr. Halsey finished, the Spartans in the room left talking about the new technology. They'd probably be skeptical until they saw it in action, and then they'd believe, whereas when the Covenant saw it, they'd be very dead. One Spartan walked over to her with an anxious look on her face. She had blue hair.
      "Hello, Kelly," Dr. Halsey said.
      She nodded. "How are the others?"
      "The ones you brought in? They'll survive. Two of them will be battle ready in a few days, but the others might take more than a week. They all have severe plasma burns."
      "Good...I keep on thinking I should have done more."
      "What else could you have done? The twenty-seven of you killed thousands of Covenant. There was nothing else you could do. But how did you get six out?"
      Images flashed in Kelly's mind. The Spartans in a clearing, spraying ammunition of hundreds of figures swarming towards them. Kenny, Mark, Michael, exploding in a cloud of red needles. The run away from the hordes of Covenant, breath rasping in her throat. Plasma screaming after them that kept on finding targets. Finding the abandoned storage building. Hiding everyone inside. Running towards a Covenant dropship in desperation, firing madly at the troops it dropped off, diving inside before it closed, killing the pilots. Dragging Fred, Katie, and the others into the ship. Taking off. She shuddered. "I don't want to talk about it."
      James came up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. Kelly's eyes turned unusually shiny and she turned away. James was very lucky, Halsey thought. He had been down to less than two minutes of oxygen in his suit before a UNSC cruiser leaving Reach had pulled him in. He had had only minor injuries. James smiled at Dr. Halsey, then gently led Kelly away.
      Dr. Halsey felt a pang of remorse as she suddenly remembered John. What had happened to him? She had cast about for information until discovering that the Pillar of Autumn had jumped out of system, closely followed by multiple Covenant craft. The odds didn't look good for Captain Keyes and the Master Chief, but John seemed to ignore odds and survive. There was a chance that he was still alive... but where?


      0651 Hours
      September 22, 2552 (Military Calendar)
      Slipspace
      UNSC Longsword Interceptor



      The Master Chief stared out of the Longsword into the distorted reality of Slipspace. Sighing, he leaned back in the chair he was sitting in and tapped his fingers on the dashboard impatiently. "Cortana," he said, "just how long are we going to be stuck in Slipspace?"
      "We are not stuck," replied a disembodied yet annoyed female voice. "Just merely delayed. This Longsword's Shaw-Fujikawa Slipspace generators are a joke. They're only intended for insystem jumps, and we are practically moving across all of known space and a little more space that was unknown until I analyzed the symbols on the rock you got from Sigma Octanus IV. I'm following a route from Halo that will lead us to Earth now."
      The Master Chief paused. "Do you think there will be anything left when we get there?"
      Cortana processed that for a full three seconds, and then replied, "I...I don't know. We can merely hope for the best."
      They remained silent for a few seconds, but then Cortana groaned and appeared before him on the holo-projector in the dashboard. A hand with lines of code running through it went to her forehead.
      "What?"
      "I just analyzed the remaining time that we can squeeze power out of our Slipspace generators."
      "Well?"
      "38 seconds."
      "Great."
      "No, wait a minute. If I can divert the power from all other systems to the Translight system except for recycling oxygen...we'll have a little more than two days."
      "Do it."
      "I'm way ahead of you."
      There was a slight droning sound as the whirring machinery in the depths of the ship slowed down and came to a stop. The computer screens in front of the Master Chief clicked off and finally the lights went off. Cortana glowing figure disappeared from the holopanel and John was left sitting alone in a darkened cockpit, with the greenish light of Slipspace casting an eerie glow upon the scene, to brood on his thoughts.


      1227 Hours
      September 24, 2552 (Military Calendar)
      The planet Tesen, Rigil Kentaurus System



      Kas'jorg grounded the last of the humans into the dirt underneath his foot, then contemptuously spat on its body. He lifted his head and gazed upon the scene around him. Tesen's main city Mastris, once a beautiful white city, was now a heap of rubble. Human bodies along with Covenant bodies littered the ground, burning buildings and vehicles gave off pillars of flame, and the very ground the bodies laid on was stained red. Yet it was also stained with blue, which angered Kas'jorg. Too much blue.
      The soldiers of his army were getting sloppy. The assault that he had planned, that he had personally led, had been successful, but one company, Las'tk's company, had charged early and their marksmanship had been horrible. He decided to make an example and strode through the Grunts and Jackals moving around kicking the humans to make sure they were dead and carrying the bodies of their fallen comrades to piles of the dead, to be later respectfully burned, so that any humans later arriving would not defile the Covenant's bodies with their foul hands.
      One Grunt got in his way and he kicked it to the side. His armored foot caved in the Grunt's chest plate and ruptured its breath tanks, so that it clawed at its helmet while methane spurted from the tank on its back. Gradually its death throes subsided. These lower species were useful, but only to the point of being tools. One must remind them from time to time of their place, or else they got insolent.
      He came to where Las'tk was giving orders to some Jackals, grabbed his head from behind with his left hand, lifted him into the air, and shouted out in a deep and powerful voice in the tongue of Asla, "Behold Las'tk! It was his weakness that caused many of our soldiers to die. And because of his weakness he shall pay the price."
      The onlookers gasped at the sight of the golden Elite with blood-red war stripes on his arms easily holding up a red Elite, who looked very shaken. Kas'jorg glared at Las'tk's back. He clenched his right fist and a long plasma blade grew out of a slit in the armor on his forearm. Then he held Las'tk up high and plunged the blade through his back. Las'tk screamed as the hard blue plasma of the blade destroyed his insides and melted his armor, causing smoke to curl up into the sky. Kas'jorg increased the pressure in his left hand and clenched it tight, crumpling the Elite's head inside its armor to a fourth of its usual size. Las'tk's screams abruptly stopped and Kas'jorg scornfully dropped the body to his ground.
      "Get rid of this mess!" he growled a group of Grunts standing near to him who squealed as they jumped in fright. "Now, who is Las'tk's second in command? A blue elite standing a few meters away walked forward. He seemed shaken at the sight of the Grunts tentatively approaching the still smoking body of his leader behind Kas'jorg, but quickly collected himself. Kas'jorg sized him up. Tall, strong, and intelligent-looking. This one looked competent. "Name, rank, and serial number!!" he growled.
      The blue Elite straightened. "Ml'ent, Minor Elite, 009238467 of K Division, sir!!"
      "Get some red armor on. You're promoted and now have Las'tk's position. Be sure to do a better job than he did."
      "Yes sir!!"
      Kas'jorg turned away and began walking to his personal Banshee. In ten minutes he set down in the launch bay of his destroyer, the God's Judgement. He eased himself out of his Banshee and strode to the bridge door. Behind him, Grunt technicians waddled over to his Banshee and began washing it, polishing it, and checking its instruments.
      As he stepped into the bridge his navigations officer Jla're hurried over to him. Jla're wore blue armor and a large insignia on his chest representing navigation. He saluted. Kas'jorg nodded and said, "Did you scan Tesen's navigation databases for their homeworld?"
      "Yes," he replied, "and oddly this one had a full map of their colonies, however, where the homeworld was in the databases, didn't exist."
      "What?"
      "They altered its location to send us off course."
      "Unacceptable. How are we to exterminate their home planet?"
      "Don't worry sir. We mapped the locations of all their known colonies and inhabited worlds. They all follow a spiral formation radiating outwards from a single point."
      "And where is this point?"
      "We have its coordinates."
      "Excellent. The strike team sent to the Proxima Centauri system is done?"
      "They should be finishing any minute now sir."
      "How are things looking?"
      "The humans put up a decent fight, but they were overrun quickly. No ships were defending the space around it."
      Kas'jorg nodded. "They have recalled all their ships to their homeworld. A last defense. Notify Command. I want a force three-hundred ships strong at least."
      "The Prophets might not..."
      "Bah! The Prophets are weak. They confuse the lower species with myths and lies. We Elites are strong. I do not care what they think, nor what they say. Give me those ships. I want frigates, carriers, destroyers, cruisers, everything. I want these ships stocked with our best troops. The new species as well. We will see what they can do."
      "The newly recruited species from Taso?"
      "Yes. And some of the new prototype ships."
      "Laser destroyers?"
      "Yes."
      "It may take a while, sir, to stock the ships and have them rendezvous with us."
      "How long?"
      "From our home system, sir...six days."
      "No!!" he slammed his fist on a dashboard, creating a deep rent in its titanium cover. "I want the ships here in five days."
      "Pull all our troops off this planet. I want this cursed ball of dirt completely glassed and us leaving the system in fifteen minutes. Now!" As Jla're hurried away Kas'jorg crossed his arms and grinned, revealing rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth. This last planet, this homeworld, would finally be destroyed and he wouldn't have to waste his time on these beings made of dirt with pathetic technology. And if the green devils showed up again...he would take care of them himself.



Halo 2: A New Hope, Part 3
Date: 25 November 2002, 4:18 am

     0943 Hours
     September 27, 2552 (Military Calendar)
     Rigil Kentaurus System


     Stellar light shone down upon and bounced off of a glassy round object in the system known as Rigil Kentaurus. It had once been proud, defiant, a living symbol of the will of man to reach to the farthest boundaries. It had been the second system found...Tesen, the second planet colonized. It had been the home of thousands of explorers beginning a new life on a different world. The blue flag of the UNSC, with its stars and Earth in the corner, had once flapped proudly in the breeze.
     Now it was dead. Its very surface scorched by ionized electric gas, its sand was melted, oceans had vaporized, mountains fallen, the very atmosphere boiled away into oblivion. The system was silent and sad, as it had never been before. But near the planet, a shimmer in the air moved slowly and listed to one side, puttering on in fits of ancient energy. The Master Chief groaned as the engines died down for the third time, and the whirring machinery stopped moving. He glared at the dashboard in front of him and slammed down an armored Spartan fist upon the display. It sank in a couple inches and pushed titanium alloy downwards. With a click, the engines started up again.
     "Cortana, this heap of junk is spent. Are we at Tesen yet? I don't see it."
     Cortana paused and didn't say anything. She didn't need to know, for in that moment light revealed a melted globe suspended in space. John sank back down in his chair and his heart sank in his chest. If only he had been there.... Cortana appeared on the holopanel and gazed down at the sad spectacle. "All those people...", she breathed.
     The Master Chief shook his head. "Are there any ships left?"
     "It doesn't look like it. I can't even see any space debris floating around the planet. But let's move in and see."
     The Longsword changed its path and shakily flew towards the planet. Tesen grew in size until it filled up two-thirds of the viewscreen. John strained his eyes squinting into space. Hoping to see anything. Anything at all. But nothing was left. The Master Chief closed his eyes and sagged. There was no way the Longsword could make it to Earth. Even now it was floating practically dead in space. The Covenant had defeated him in a way they had never tried before. And he could do nothing about it.
     He was sinking deeper into gloom when Cortana spoke sharply. "Wait a minute."
     He opened his eyes.
     "Look on the moon."
     There was a dark shape on the surface that didn't look like a normal shadow. As they moved towards it a ray of light from some distant star shot towards it and reflected off metal. John exhaled. The markings on the side of the ship were worn down, but he could read them. He murmured to himself, "UNSC cruiser 'Phoenix'".

     0521 Hours
     September 29, 2552 (Military Calendar)
     The Moon Military Defense Station, Sol System


     Private Johnson's head slipped off his hand and banged against the monitor in front of him. He jerked awake, rubbed his head and cursed. He had been monitoring activity in the Sol System for 12 hours now. The Station had been on highest alert for a week, and those goddamn bastards that were supposed to relieve him three hours ago were sleeping in. When his head cleared he remembered why they were on highest alert and rubbed his eyes to clear the sleep from them.
     He blinked and stared down at his monitor. No signs of movement in Quadrants 1-9. He flipped a switch and looked at a simulation of Slipspace. Nothing moving here either. It was as quiet as he had ever seen it ever since he entered the UNSC five years ago. The recruitment posters had said that he would be killing Covenant alongside the Spartans and defending Earth. Instead he was given a desk job on the closest station to home, with nothing but a couple other marines in the room with him monitoring their own stations. It was as boring as hell. His head started drooping but he snapped it up. Some way to defend Earth.
     Johnson was snapped out of his thoughts by the blaring of an alarm on his third monitor. What the hell? He switched to Slipspace and looked at the monitor. It looked normal. The green skin was unbroken, but it was...getting smaller? Starting from the top of the monitor downward, blackness flowed in, shutting out the green, like ink from a spilt container. This was insane... there was no object that big that could get into Slipspace. It must be an anomaly in the encryption code. Nothing like this had ever been seen before. He started to make a mental note to get it fixed, but then a thought struck him and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Nothing like this since...Reach.
     He held down the button to widen the field view until it beeped in protest. He could see the whole mass now. A shape blurred out of the edge for a second and moved by itself before blending back into the mass. It was a Covenant destroyer. Oh my God. He slammed his hand down on the emergency broadcast transmitter. "A Covenant fleet is approaching Earth!" he screamed into the microphone. "I repeat, Covenant fleet ap..."

     ...proaching Earth!" crackled the speakers on the bridge of the UNSC destroyer Desperation. Admiral Gaines sprang up from his chair. "Litenaunt Hikowa, replay that message to all UNSC ships and stations. Tell them to get their asses off the ground and up in space, I don't care what shape they're in. If it can shoot so much as one bullet, I want it up next to us. Arm the orbital and lunar guns. Notify the Marines on Earth and get them ready."
     "Serena, break the Desperation out of orbit and move us out into space. Charge up all our MAC guns and those special surprises Oni gave us. Move it people!"

     Dr. Halsey sagged in her chair as she heard the broadcast. We were supposed to have another week, she thought. God help us, we need another week. She pulled herself together and spoke to the Spartan's room in the station. "You heard?"
     James's voice answered her. "We did."
     "Get your men together and get armed. Black Team will stay on station. I expect we'll be getting some visitors too. Green, Red, and Blue Teams, get into Pelicans and get on Earth now. I hoped this day would come later, but...we don't have the time."
     "I know, Dr. Halsey. We'll be ready."

     James turned off the intercom and turned to the Spartans. Thirty-five solemn figures looked back at him. "You heard her," he said. "Move it!"
     They double-timed it to the maintenance room and the techs helped them get into their Mjolnir suits. They clasped the helmets into place and ran to the armory. It glistened with rows upon rows of gleaming weapons. They moved forward. James grabbed a ARP1, a xo2 shotgun, several magazines, and a handful of grenades. He spotted Kelly and Keira arming themselves with God's Eyes, Boomer with a shotgun and a Cyclops, and Fred with two SKP pistols. James walked to the end of the room and opened the last looker. It contained the new combat knives. A six inch titanium blade, the handle bore small plasma cells. If you squeezed the handle hard, vents along the flat of the blade breathed plasma. They would be useful. He stuck one in his belt.
     He looked at everyone. They seemed finished. He caught their attention. "I'll be leading Black Team. We're staying here to protect the station from any Covies that decide to drop by. Shawn will lead Green Team. Kelly will lead Blue Team. Fred? You've got Red Team. You guys will go down to Earth. When we're finished up here, we'll join you." He paused. "We have a mission to complete. Let's make sure we complete it." There was nothing more to say. "Dismissed."

     Private Johnson stared out the viewscreen of the station. He was covered in sweat, even though the room he was in was cold. The space near Earth slowly became distorted. It rippled with lightning, boiled green and groaned. Then space tore open, and hundreds of dark shapes burst into reality. God help us, he thought.



Halo 2: A New Hope, Part 4, Assault on Earth
Date: 27 November 2002, 9:34 pm

      0531 Hours
      September 29, 2552 (Military Calendar)
      Sol System


      UNSC Fleet Commander Jonathon Gaines stared at the gaping hole in space and waited for the Covenant to appear. A thought struck him and the irony of the situation formed a bitter smile on his face as he realized that for once, they didn't need to enact the Cole Protocol.
      The ship he was sitting in was christened Desperation, a UNSC Super Destroyer. Its immense frame stretched to over four kilometers long. Four meters of titanium-A battleplate shielded the inside of the ship. Along its front it bore ten MAC cannons of the same type given to the Pillar of Autumn, guns that could fire three times with one charge. 60mm chain guns were spread all over the vessel, with the concentration areas of their combined fire in the front, the back, and the bottom of the ship, allowing any Seraph fighters that might harass the Desperation to be blown out of the sky. Three hundred Archer missile pods covered the ship, each armed with twenty plasma-enhanced missiles, each bearing a layer of yellow plasma that covered the entire surface of the missile.
      The new technology had also allowed for shields that were powerful, but because of the immense surface area of the Super Destroyer, took sixty seconds to regenerate. A new point defense system had also been put in place. Twenty small turrents on the Desperation's hull could follow any incoming plasma torpedoes' trajectory and fired magnetic chaff bullets, which broke apart the plasma or attracted it enough to alter the torpedoes' path, hopefully enough to miss the ship. In its launch bay it bore four Pelicans, each with 30mm autocannon and one with an extra meter of armor. Also decorating the floor of the hangar were fifteen Longsword Interceptors and two remote operated Longswords bearing Shiva nuclear warheads.
      The Desperation was the flagship of the UNSC army, and Gaines felt confident that it would perform very well. Beside it hung a hundred and fifty other ships. Half of them had received shields and the new weapons, the others had not. As such the old armored ones hung near the back.
      The weapons that Gaines knew that could make victory possible were the new weapon emplacements. The first were the orbital MAC guns around Earth. There were thirty of them, exactly like the ones that had been used at Reach. They fired three-thousand ton projectiles at tremendous speed, and could reload in five seconds. These guns, however, bore shields. The Covenant would have to hit them with a lot more than they had hit the Reach guns to knock them out.
      The second was the Cerberus guns stationed on the moon. Cerberus was the three-headed dog that guarded the underworld from any that might leave or enter unbidden in ancient mythology. The Cerberus guns were aptly named, for they bore three immense barrels, each with five yard diameters. Each fired Lucifer warheads, new nuclear weapons that had recently been created. They were immense nuclear devices, with twice the punch of a Shiva warhead, and contained plasma put under intense pressure. The Cerberus guns could fire three Lucifer warheads at a time, but it took a long time to reload. They needed three minutes to launch another trio of nukes.
      Gaines was snapped out of his thoughts by the voice of the smart AI the Desperation had been given, Falstaff. Falstaff was modeled after Dr. Halsey's brain, after the AI known as Cortana was presumed destroyed. He took on the shape of a human male wearing combat armor, with a lithe build and glowing eyes. He was transparent and had lines of code running through him, like Cortana. "Covenant vessels have entered Sol System space," he said. "I count...four hundred and fifty-one."
      Gaines felt a part of him die at those words, but outwardly showed no facial expression betraying his feelings. "Tell all the ships of the fleet to select a Covenant craft. Old models with the single shot MAC cannon group in groups of three, and all fire at a single ship, with Archer missiles hitting with the third MAC round. Ships with the new cannon can do it themselves. And for us, I want a targeting solution that has a big ship under each one of our guns, Archer missiles hitting on the third round. I will give the order to fire."
      "Yes sir." Falstaff replied.
      Gaines punched into the com channel. "..this is suicide!" he heard.
      "Suck it up, marines. We have a job to do. If you go into this battle with that attitude, we've already lost. So get yourselves together and fire on my mark."
      The Covenant fleet began to accelerate towards Earth. Motes of light collected on their sides.
      "Fire!" he yelled. Every ship in the fleet unleashed missiles and MAC rounds. The Cerberus guns went off, and thirty trails of white-hot metal shot forward from the orbital guns. The glow from the alien ships reached peak intensity and boiling plasma missiles and torpedoes surged toward the humans. Space was lit up from so much fire in the air at once. The human's weapons struck first. Comet-like fireballs slammed into thirty ships, their intensity piercing shields instantaneously and cannoning through layer upon layer of metal. Billions of fragments hurled out into space with tremendous force. Oxygen from inside the ship let flames flicker and lick the sides of the craft before the air burnt up. A few rounds struck the engines and orange fireballs lit up space.
      Gaines smiled. They would feel that one. MAC rounds from the human ships hit Covenant shield. Shields flickered once, twice, but the third round pierced armor and detonated inside the ship. Most of the ships hit would have survived if not for hundreds of Archer missiles slamming into the holes left by the MACs. Explosions tore out into space and yellow lightning lanced into the Covenant ships. Half-vaporized hulls floated uselessly to the sides.
      Before the Cerberus' nukes hit, plasma tore into the ranks of the UNSC fleet. Small turrets tracked the plasma and sprayed chaff bullets at it. About half the plasma dissipated, but two hundred and thirty more plasma missiles found targets. The unshielded ships were all hit. Blue fire tore open rips in the battleplate and sheared holes through the decks and outer armor. What was left of the ships listed to one side, dead in space. Life pods began to shoot out from the destroyed hulls, drifting down to Earth. The shielded ships took the hits in stride, with their shields holding, for now. However, only half the human fleet remained. "How are the shields?" Gaines asked.
      "They're at 60% power and slowly recharging," said Lieutenant Miller. The Covenant ships seemed surprised. "That's right, you bastards. Now we have shields too," muttered Gaines.
      Right then the Lucifer nukes detonated in the midst of the armada. White fire screamed out from the center of the ships to the edge. The shockwave slammed into the ships on the edge of the fleet. Their shields glowed silver before cooling again. When the smoke cleared, the ships in the center of the armada, almost a third of the Covenant fleet, were nothing more than radioactive scraps of metal.
      They hung in the air undecided for a couple moments, but then split off into three groups. The largest squadron moved forward to engage the human ships. Scintillating silver-white beams lanced from three large whitish ships in the Covenant armada, drilling into fifteen different UNSC cruisers. Gaines had seen reports of this weapon from Reach. It was a new weapon, faster and deadlier than plasma. But the beams first had to penetrate their shields. By the time they reached the craft itself, they were drastically less powerful and only cut small holes through half the cruiser's decks. They would be all right if they closed the airlocks around the gap.
      "All ships," Gaines spoke in the microphone. "Concentrate your fire on the three beam destroyers. Launch one remote Shiva Longsword and transfer control to the Desperation." He turned off the speaker. "And for us, each MAC cannon should target a destroyer. Arm Archer missile pods C3 through I4. Launch against the destroyers." Hundreds of Seraph fighters launched from Covenant carriers. "All ships including carriers Cascade, Guardian, and Washington, deploy Longsword Interceptors," ordered Gaines. The human fleet slowly scattered and moved towards their targets.
      Another group started to ascend vertically and accelerated towards the orbital guns. Motes of light collected along lateral lines on their sides. The orbital guns fired. Streaks of white hot metal streaked toward the Covenant ships, destroyed shields, and sent billions of pieces of shrapnel flying off into space. The ships who survived fired plasma torpedoes. The fiery plasma threaded a path through the broken hulls of their comrades and slammed into the orbital guns' shields. They flared silver but didn't collapse.
       The Super MACs launched another salvo and the Covenant vessels followed suit. Human and alien weaponry crossed paths in space. Two dozen more ships became floating junk heaps, but their plasma had launched. The MAC guns' shields couldn't last under the stress and collapsed. More plasma followed, and eight orbital gun platforms were melted into slag. The remaining twenty-two fired again, and the last of the Covenant ships burst apart.
       The last group moved forward to assault the Cerberus lunar cannon. Gaines cursed under his breath. "Tell the destroyers Lincoln, Last Chance, and Silas to move and defend Cerberus. Five frigates should go with them," he told Falstaff. The AI nodded and eight ships moved to intercept the alien craft. "How much time until Cerberus launches again?"
      Falstaff paused. "A minute and twenty-one seconds."
      "Make sure it survives till then."
      Gaines turned his attention back to the fight. The Desperation's MAC cannons had killed ten destroyers. Seraphs and Longswords were bursting into flame and lighting up the night with their explosions. He watched the last of his fleets MACs and Archer missiles hit the beam destroyers. Their shields flared silver and then collapsed. Gaping holes were left in their sides, but the ships had not been destroyed and could fire again any second. "Launch our remote Shiva Interceptors," he ordered. Lieutenant Serena nodded and typed furiously at her station. "Transfer control of the three to Falstaff. Falstaff, guide them into the holes in the beam destroyers armor."
      "Already on it," he said.
      The specks that were the Longswords flew forward in three directions, high above the carnage. Gaines watched as the destroyers fired again. The fifteen cruisers hit before were targeted again, with their shields having the least power. The white beams lanced through the ships from the bow straight through the engines and the cruisers exploded in a hail of fire. The beam destroyers began to flicker silver. Shit, Gaines thought. "Falstaff, are those Interceptors through?" The AI remained silent as the beam destroyer's shields regenerated, and grinned as they flared silver and a white shockwave slammed into the shields' inner surface, incinerating the destroyers.
      "Yep," he answered.
      Gaines stared at the fight above the Cerberus guns. The Covenant had managed to launch a salvo at Cerberus before his ships made them turn their attention to themselves. Falstaff scanned the shields surrounding the Cerberus installation and reported that they were at half power but climbing steadily. Under the combined power of three destroyers and five frigates, all new, only a Covenant destroyer and a cruiser was left.
      The destroyer Silas had taken hits from multiple Covenant torpedoes at once. It's point defense system couldn't take care of them all, and its shields had been shattered. The final plasma torpedo had drilled through its midsection and out the other side. Gobs of molten titanium floated away from Silas, and more than a dozen life pods shot out from the now useless burning hull. They descended into the station on the Moon.
      Three of the human frigates had also been destroyed from the firepower of the Covenant. The Lincoln and Last Chance fired their MAC cannons simultaneously at the Covenant destroyer. Its powerful shields flared silver white and collapsed under the strain, and two MAC rounds struck the ship's hull. Three hundred Archer missiles from the frigates chiseled away what remained of the destroyer. A glow along the sides of the Covenant cruiser announced that it was firing. Plasma missiles shot forward and were destroyed by chaff bullets. The Lincoln accelerated and slammed into the cruiser. Its massive frame was three times as big as the cruiser's, and the Covenant ship was knocked away, its shields destroyed and its frame crumpled.
      The remaining Covenant vessels turned around and accelerated away from the battle, but not before a last salvo from the Super MACs penetrated their engines and reactors. Thirty more flaming hulls sank into death, claimed by a grinning Reaper. Gaines sagged in his chair and wiped his brow. He turned on the intercom and listened to the men on the surviving ships cheer.
      But it didn't feel over. The Covenant had never abandoned a fight when they had ships left. They hadn't at Reach and...they hadn't here. He straightened. "Falstaff, scan the space around Earth, and ignore polar magnetic interference." He waited for the bad news he was certain he would hear.
      "More than a thousand dropships are currently entering Earth's atmosphere! Also, three dozen dropships have just touched down on the Moon." the AI touched his hand to his forehead. The remaining human ships rotated 180 degrees and began firing at the dropships, as the Desperation opened fire as well. Hundreds of MAC rounds and Archer missiles streaked into them and detonated, and a couple hundred ships were vaporized under their fury. The orbital gun platforms swiveled inwards and fired at the dropships. Dozens more shattered in the supersonic wake of the Super MAC rounds.
      "Get UNSC HQ, all military installations on Earth, and the Cerberus installation! Tell them they're about to have one hell of a party."

      0610 Hours
      September 29, 2552 (Military Calendar)
      Cerberus Lunar Installation, The Moon


      James fired a three round burst at the Grunt. The ARP's bullets penetrated its breath mask, hitting its skull and frying the brain with the plasma contained inside the bullets. It fell to the ground. He signaled to the Marines behind him and they followed after him down the corridor. He turned the corner and peered through the small window in the door. Two Hunters, five Elites and ten Jackals. He pointed to Pvt. Wilkes, the demolitions expert on the team he was leading. Wilkes hoisted his Jackhammer launcher and moved forward. "Two rockets, one on each Hunter, soon as I open the door," James whispered. "To the rest of you, use grenades on the Jackals, then concentrate your fire on the Elites. Move fast and stay behind cover. You ready?" They nodded. James opened the door.



Halo 2: A New Hope, Part 5, Continuing the Fight
Date: 22 December 2002, 11:39 pm

      (Authors Note: I apologize for the long delay in getting this chapter done. The frenzy of Christmas and my anal teachers' insane amount of homework all contributed to giving me no time to write. But now I am on Christmas break, so future parts will be appearing quickly. Enjoy.)


      0611 Hours
      September 29, 2552 (Military Calendar)
      Earth, Sol System


      Sergeant Peterson dived into the sand and clamped his finger down on the trigger. His assault rifle vibrated as it spat out half a clip at everything that moved ahead of him.
      The collection of alien races known as the Covenant have reached Earth. "Move!" he yelled. His squad sprayed bullets at the Covenant and ran forward. There was ten meters between them and the cover Peterson was lying behind. Blue fire screamed through the air and Marines started dropping. Our ships fight them in space, and now they have sent an invasion. Private Ravitz screamed under the combined fire of a dozen Covenant, as plasma melted his armor and burned his skin. He fell to the ground, in absolute agony. Peterson cocked his M6D and shot him in the face. Our countries, our homes, our way of life is being threatened.
      The rest of the squad dived behind the sandbank. Fireballs rammed the sand and sent molten glass flying over them. Fisher yelled, "Cover me!" He sprang to his feet as the ten other Marines filled the air with MA5B bullets, hefting a Jackhammer launcher. It belched twice and Fisher hit the deck. They attack us with superior technology and numbers, because we have been declared unclean by their gods. Twin contrails of smoke followed the rockets as they slammed into the two Shade stationary turrets.
      The first one was flung several meters upwards, spinning end over end, and landed on top of a Jackal. Its gunner screamed as shrapnel from the turret tore holes in its chest. Purple blood drenched the sand. But we will not go quietly into the night. The second snapped off the Shade's barrel, penetrated its metal shell, and tore it apart. "Hit it marines!" Peterson yelled. They rose from the sandbank screaming. Scorano heaved a frag grenade and five Grunts flew into the air. Another Jackal received a large piece of shrapnel in the neck and its head fell to the ground.
      We will not let them destroy us. They will not destroy our wives and our children. Red needles pierced Private Bank's chest, filling it up until he looked like a pincushion. With a roar the needles exploded and blood flew in all directions. All that was left of him was his legs. We will fight them with all that we have, with all that we are, and with all that we hope to become. "You sonsofbitches!!" Scorano screamed and tackled a Jackal. It fired at him from point blank range and melted his chest armor. He jammed his pistol in its mouth and pulled the trigger. Sergeant Peterson picked him up and threw him behind cover, following after him. A charged up plasma bolt hissed through where they had been standing. Most of us believe in a God. I will now say to you, pray to Him that through the fires of our hearts, we overcome our enemies.
      Peterson paused to slap a fresh clip in his assault rifle. He heard weapons fire and yells from the members of his squad. Heat from the plasma weapons had scorched the sand and made the air hard to breathe. The sergeant coughed and peered around the edge of the boulder he was behind. There were too many. More than a dozen red elites and jackals were empting plasma rifles and needlers. Another marine in his squad took a plasma charge to the head. Blood and brain tissue mushroomed onto the sand and his headless body collapsed in a lump. Peterson ran to the cluster of rocks his communications officer was hiding behind, spraying bullets at the Covenant as he did so. The sergeant shouted at him over the whine of bullets and plasma. "Backup! Get us some goddamned backup!"
      Before the Marine could answer the whine of a sniper rifle rang through the air. A red armored Elite collapsed, his lower jaw blown apart. Three more contrails decorated the air and the other Elites fell headless. The Jackals squawked in fear, turned around, and ran with their shields over their heads. But they couldn't escape another salvo of high-caliber rounds that ate through their bodies and snapped their spines. Peterson paused. In less than five seconds the battleground had gone from his men dying around him, explosions numbing his airs, and screams filling the air, to absolute quiet.
      "What the hell?" Fisher said. They looked around. The faint noise of an engine reached their ears. It came from behind them. It was accelerating at high speed towards the squad. A thick reinforced window, tinted green, titanium armor, and thirty-inch wheels. There were two seats in the front, and a large bed in the back with black metal bars forming a canopy for protection. A Troop Warthog.
      But the part of the jeep that caught his attention the most was its passengers. Two tall, armored figures sat in the front. They looked to be seven feet tall, and as alien as the Covenant with reflective visors on their helmets. The one riding shotgun was holding a long-barreled sniper rifle that Peterson had never seen before. "Spartans!?"
      Scorano shook his head. "I thought they went down on Reach. They're all supposed to be dead."
      Sergeant Peterson snorted. "Well those two ghosts just saved our asses, so why don't you be real nice to 'em."
      The warthog rolled to a stop in front of them. "Get in!" the driver yelled. "Firebase Zulu is under attack. We're going to go help them." It was a female voice. They gazed at her visor but could only see their own faces in her blast shield.
      "You heard her Marines," yelled Peterson. "Double-time it!" They piled in. Out of the twelve members that had been in their squad, only six were left. Fisher came in last, with six sets of bloody dog tags in his hand. Private Warner, closest to the back, threw up.

...

      Gaines slowly lowered himself into his chair. "How many ships do we have left?" he asked.
      Lieutenant Miller paused. "Forty-nine ships, including the Desperation. Eight, however, are cruisers." Gaines smiled. Cruisers were the largest warships humanity had ever built. At least, they were, before the Desperation left the shipyards. These eight ships had been left in reserve for the day when the Covenant would find Earth. Somebody high up had some foresight. And now it would cost the Covenant dearly. They had been among the first ships to receive shields and new weapons, and sported five MAC cannons each.
      Far away from Earth, the silver-blue warships of the Covenant slowed to a crawl, then rotated until they faced Earth. "The Covenant fleet is turning around, sir! They're accelerating towards us." said Lieutenant Turner. She bit her lip anxiously.
      Gaines sprang to his feet. "Lieutenant Stronakoff." The muscular blond-haired man that manned the communications console looked at him. "Separate our ships into seven groups, A through G. I want at least one cruiser spearheading each group." He brought up a display of the battleground in front of him. Human ships were blue ovals, and Covenant were red. There was too much red. The computer tallied the remaining Covenant vessels at over two hundred and thirty strong. "Group A move to cover the Cerberus guns. B and C I want defending the orbital MAC platforms. The rest of us, split up and target different ships. We need maneuvering room so we're not sitting ducks for their plasma."
      "Aye aye, sir," answered the German.
      "Cruisers target Covenant destroyers and cruisers. For the rest of us, target the frigates and corvettes. We need to whittle their numbers down. Bring us about course zero zero one four."
      "Aye sir, course zero zero one four." Turner's fingers danced across her keyboard. The Desperation moved forward at a slight angle in relation to the Covenant forces.
      "Find me the biggest Covenant ship out there," he ordered.
      Falstaff paused for a second. "Covenant destroyer God's Judgment has the largest surface area and biggest array of weapons."
      "Engage it. Divert as much power as you need to get our MAC guns charged."
      "Aye sir," said Miller. "MAC guns hot. Capaccitators at 100%."
      "Give me a hundred and seventy percent on our engines. Divert the energy keeping our MACs fully charged and pump it to the reactor."
      Lieutenant Miller nodded and wiped his brow as he typed furiously. "Done. We can hold for five minutes until red line."
      The Desperation shot forward like a rocket. It had to have the speed to dodge any plasma torpedoes launched at it, Gaines knew. The God's Judgment turned slightly and seemed to regard the Desperation for a moment. Then it accelerated towards them, flanked on either side by two corvettes. Hundreds of Seraphim Interceptors poured out from its hangars. A hundred more Longswords moved to meet them.
      It was oddly beautiful, in a way, to watch. The two titans of each side were engaging in their own personal war. The swollen hull of the Covenant destroyer shone with white semi-circles along its side. It looked like an ancient dragon as it moved through space. The two corvettes along side it glowed blue as well. Pulse lasers lanced from the corvettes towards the Desperation, but instead incinerated the single-ship fighters in its path. The human warship rocked as thirty steaming white trails screamed towards the Covenant. Starlight reflected off hundreds of Archer missiles as they followed. The corvettes flashed silver twice and were gutted by the final heavy round, as secondary explosions widened the gaping holes from their prows to sterns. They crackled with flames.
      Plasma torpedoes crossed paths with MAC rounds. Twenty-four heavy rounds sailed towards the God's Judgment's engines but the destroyer shot sideways with a shudder and two-thirds missed. The remaining MACs hit its shields with glancing blows and the shields held. Laser turrets drilled fire at the Archer missiles. A hundred disintegrated into shrapnel, the rest impacted into the silver wall and merely made splashes of color. Gaines cursed. The emergency detour charges on the Desperation's port detonated, sending it spinning crazily to the side. A dozen red torpedoes sailed past. Chaff bullets ate away at their backsides and the plasma disintegrated.
      The rest of the Covenant fleet had crossed the distance to Earth with unbelievable speed. Laser destroyers appeared among the ranks of the Covenant warships. Captain Willis stood at the prow of his destroyer, the Liberty. He gave the order to fire and the Liberty's MAC cannons belched, followed by a hundred Archer missiles. But as they came within spitting distance of the destroyers, the warships vanished with green ripples. "What the hell?" said his navigations officer. Willis began to reply but was promptly silenced as a laser lanced into his engines, overloaded the reactor, and his ship blew apart. The orbital MAC platforms belched out a salvo but only a dozen rounds met their mark.
      The Covenant fleet had engaged the humans with a new ferocity they hadn't shown before. They had integrated themselves into their enemies' ranks and were carving them apart, concentrating all fire onto one ship, then another as their target was destroyed. Covenant ships burst apart too, but for every Covenant ship destroyed, two more human ships died out. "Where the hell are those Cerberus guns!?" screamed Gaines.
      In answer a brilliant explosion lit up the battle field. Blue-white fire tangled everything in its grasp. Fifty Covenant warships vaporized under its fury, and dozens more shattered from the shockwave and sonic boom. The laser destroyers spat in response, and two cruisers' engines were shattered. They sagged and then shuddered as hundreds of plasma missiles ate away at their shields and battle-plate. Explosions carved them apart, and two blackened skeletons drifted down to the Earth, to melt in the atmosphere.

      Fred let out a deep breath and watched as it changed into a cold mist and blew away. The headquarters of UNSC occupied a small valley in the mountains of Switzerland. Millennium-old spires of icy rock groaned up thousands of feet above the Earth. It was completely surrounded by impassable mountains, except for a canyon that was used to transport supplies to the base. Red Team had gotten here early and set up camp. Fred got on a COM channel to the base, requesting all military vehicles and marines from nearby bunkers and the base report to where they would hold the canyon. Now they had set up position two kilometers away from the camp. If the Covenant got through, they would gain access to the prototype weapons and designs for ships humankind was betting its hope on.
      Twenty Scorpion tanks glared down at the canyon from raised hills projecting from the canyon wall. A meter of titanium battleplate protected their bodies from fire. There were thirty anti-infantry Reaper turrets that could spit out fifty plasma-enhanced AP rounds a second, fed by chains from massive drums at their base. Twenty Warthogs sat uneasily behind the titanium sheets they had set up for cover for the Marines. They were all snow-warthogs, with white armor to blend into the snow, traction-heavy treads to grip the frozen ground, and M41 LAAG guns mounted on the back. Three of them would be used by Spartans, however. These had extra armor and a MAC gun in place of the LAAG. Squadrons of Skyhawk fighter jets patrolled the base. They would provide air cover against any Banshees that might show up.
      Fred shouldered his ARP-1 and walked down the canyon. Two hundred Marines stood behind titanium armor sheets. They were the best of the best, ODSTs and Alpine Rangers. They wore insulating jackets and pants under their armor that kept out the immense cold and stood at the ready, with determined eyes. Not one showed any sign of fear. "Corporal!" Fred said.
      "Yes sir?" the man saluted.
      "Make sure there are crates of ammo and grenades stacked behind each armor sheet. Pistol, AR, sniper, and shotgun clips should all be there."
      "Sir!" The Corporal motioned to his men, who unstacked wooden crates from the back of a truck and ran to the cover lines. Fred looked at the walls of the canyon. Pretty steep. They would have to be careful they didn't get boxed in. He couldn't see any snipers on the walls, but they were there, each covered with a snow-camo net that blurred the outline of their bodies. Keira had gone up to a high-vantage point on her ATV with the others half an hour ago. They were ready. Fred's enhanced eyes caught the glint of sunlight off armor far down the canyon. And not a moment too soon. He grabbed a pair of binoculars from a Private and studied the advancing lines.
      "All right Marines!" he shouted. "The Covenant are approaching. Jackals are in the front, Elites right behind. I'm guessing the Grunts and Hunters mass behind them, but I can't get any better a view. Our snipers will take down the Jackals, and you guys fill the holes in their cover with lead. Got it?"
      "Sir, yes sir!" they shouted. Everyone crouched down and inspected their weapons, slapping a clip in and flicking safeties off. Then they waited. Eventually the thump of marching feet could be heard and now the Marines could make out the shapes of the Covenant. There were easily thousands of armor-covered bodies advancing upon them. Contrails filled the air and the first Jackals dropped. The Marines opened fire. MA5B and ARP-1 rounds alike roared down the battlefield and ripped into Covenant flesh. Plasma bursts screamed back in answer and scorched the titanium cover walls.
      The Scorpion tanks boomed and plumes of fire sent bloody energy shields flying high into the air. The first Jackal line was demolished. The Elites roared and sprinted forward. They aimed plasma rifles with perfect precision and Marines starting dropping. The Reaper turrets roared and traced bullets across the field at the Covenant warriors. Shields shattered and armor and flesh tore apart. The last red-armored Elite made it to the wall and Fred jammed the bayonet on his assault rifle into its neck. It fell gurgling with blood that spurted in a purple spray onto his armor.
      Wraith tanks appeared and hovered at either side of the canyon, using rock outcroppings as cover. Silver-blue mortar shells roared high above them and slammed into the ground, blackening the ice. All the mortars missed, but once they found their mark they would keep finding the mark and tear them apart. Fred grabbed two tough-looking ODSTs and motioned towards a Warthog. The sniper got in the seat and the other one manned the MAC gun. The vehicle roared forward at the head of eight other Warthogs. Fred spun the wheel and rode up the slope of the canyon. The sniper fired continually and the Spartan distantly heard Elites moan in agony. They were about fifty feet up now and on the side of the Covenant army. They were far enough. As the slope turned to the left, Fred kept going straight. Two tons of Spartan, marine, and Warthog roared off into space. This would be one hell of a jump if they made it.
      "Aim for a Wraith!" Fred yelled.
      A sizzling mortar shell screamed a meter to port of the Warthog. The sniper plugged the army full of holes. And still it rode forward and down slowly, like an Angel of Death descending upon its victims. A roar from the back of the Warthog turned Fred's head in time to see a red streak slam into the alien tank. MAC rounds could kill starships, let alone tanks. It sliced through the armor like a sword through water and roared out the back. Shrapnel and blood hurled from the wreck as fire erupted from the wreck, engulfing all the Covenant nearby. The Warthog now was only a few meters from the ice, and Fred prayed the shocks would hold. It landed with a crunch on top of a Hunter, crushing its massive body into the ground.
      "Thanks for breaking our fall," the Spartan muttered. He sent the Warthog across the Covenant ranks towards the other Wraiths, throwing bodies of various sizes screaming over their heads. Purple mist drenched them like a rainstorm. "Forecast: expect heavy rain, with light chance of falling bodies," cracked the sniper ODST. Fred grinned underneath his visor.

      James blurred into the room. The two Hunters stood in the corner, the group of Jackals was directly in front of him, and four Elites, two red, stood behind crates. James soared through the air at the first red Elite. With a SKP pistol in each hand he fired two plasma bullets each targeted dead center on the beast's head. With a sizzle it melted and popped, dropping off the body. The Spartan kept going and ran up the wall. Pushing off with his legs he dropped the next Elite's shields with his pistols, tucked into a ball and rolled past his enemy. The Elite had time to roar in anger before the grenade James had dropped exploded, sending its nine foot frame flailing into the ceiling. Two streaks lit up the corner of his eye and the Hunters sprawled to the ground stunned. Several thumps echoed, and the body of a Jackal soared in front of James.
      He grabbed it and broke off the arm, holding up the shield in front of him as the remaining Elites sprayed plasma, slamming into the shield and turning it red. In a couple seconds it would collapse, but James didn't plan on keeping it that long. His combat knife soared into the foremost's Elites mouth. The six inch white-hot blade melted the roof of its mouth, causing its brains to fall into its throat. James sidestepped so that the body was between him and the last Elite. The Spartan depressed the trigger of his remaining pistol twice. The bullets screamed through the hole in the dead Elite's body, ripping a tear in the shields covering the Elite's neck.
      Then he spun again to the right of the falling body and hurled the Jackal's shield with all his might. It sliced through the Elite's neck. James turned and looked at his Marines as both the bodies hit the floor. The Jackals were nothing but a stain on the ground. James slowly walked over to where the Hunter's were struggling to rise. He aimed at the chinks of orange back between the armor plates. Hunter armor was made of the same material that covered Covenant starships. There was no way to get through it. You had to get around it, and UNSC pistols were the only weapons that could pierce the rock-hard sinew and muscle covering the back. They fired .50 caliber bullets, unmatched by any other gun. Even shotgun rounds spread out too much to be effective. His pistols spat once each. Hot orange blood streamed into the air and the Hunters' moaning stopped abruptly.
      James sighed and holstered his guns. He opened his mouth to congratulate the members of his squad but was interrupted by the crackling of the intercom on the wall. "All human and Spartan personnel," the voice said anxiously. "Retreat back to the main control room. Monitors show Covenant activity moving towards the reactor. Repeat, you must engage. This station will not survive if the reactor is destroyed."
      James opened a com link to Chiron, the station AI. "Acknowledged," he said.





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