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      Klaxons of a different nature sounded throughout the ship and Apollo's voice called through the decks. Boarders were imminent and everyone was to get to where they were supposed to be on the double. Sergeant Barrows tightened his boots for one last time and grabbed a battle rifle from the locker, he was about ready for a fight, and for once the Covenant were going to try to bring it on his terms. His ten man squad was assembled within the ship's loading bay still, but they were anxious even excited about getting into the fight.
      "You heard the boss those alien sons of bitches are coming here and they want a piece of us, but I'll tell you what were going to give them, a one way ticket to hell! Am I right marines?"
      "Sir yes sir!" His marines yelled in response.
      "All right then move like you've got a purpose! Go! Go! Go!" And like that the eleven marines charged into the hallway and towards E deck in the outer sections of the ship where they been assigned. The bang of each heavy step echoed through the hallways as the marines in full ballistic armor ran. The NCO could feel the nerves of each and every one of his marines, they knew that the Isaac Brock was in trouble there was no sound from the main engines and the impact of the collision couldn't be ignored. They were on their last leg, and could only hope it held on long enough. They passed Navy Corpsmen busy aiding the wounded from the impacts and explosions, Barrows couldn't help but realize that in a matter of minutes there were going to be a lot more people to look after.

      "What's the status of our marines?" Captain Roland questioned.
      "All fire teams report at locations and prepared to repel boarders, blast doors sealed at critical junctions and non-combatants have retreated to secure areas sir," Jordan replied.
      "And what about our guests?"
      "They're being escorted by a wing of Seraphs sir, distance two thousand kilometers and closing fast," Seville answered.
      Without point defenses they were helpless to intercept the enemy by themselves, especially having used every last missile they had. But there had to be another option then just waiting to be boarded. The TAC display showed both the Confidence and Prophet Muhammad inbound but still out of range and they targeted the carrier as the primary threat. "Ensign Jordan can you get through to the Waterloo?"
      "I can try, sir," the young officer declared. A moment passed as he fumbled with the damaged communications array. "I've got them sir, a very weak signal, but it's the best we can manage."
      "This is Captain Roland is anyone there able to respond? Waterloo please respond," the officer said over the channel.
      "The captain is unconscious sir," a young voice declared through the other end. "This is Lieutenant Rodriguez, operations officer. We've sustained critical damage, operational capability is at twenty percent and that's a generous estimate. Our sensors are down and engines don't respond."
      "Hold tight lieutenant, we'll send men to assist, but the enemy is sending boarding craft, their going to try and destroy us from the inside out. Do you have any remaining missiles and active pods?"
      "All of our forward pods are lodged within your hull, but we do have a pair at the rear which are still useable," the beleaguered officer declared.
      "All right launch everything you've got left, and transfer targeting control to automatic so we can take over once they've left the pods," Roland ordered. "Now get every marine you have available to defensive positions."
      "Aye, aye sir."
      A total of forty rockets launched from the pods of the Waterloo and raced towards the oncoming single craft. The Seraphs were agile and fast unlike the boarding craft which were far more vulnerable to the missiles. The fighters immediately fired plasma at the rockets attempting to intercept them, but the more accurate pulse lasers on board capitol ships didn't have the difficulty that the Seraphs hitting the fast moving objects. Two Archer missiles were destroyed before they entered the fray but the rest made it through the plasma, nevertheless the Seraphs refused to yield and many ran into the oncoming missiles to prevent them from reaching the boarding craft. The fighter wing was decimated in its number but in all only a single Archer missile made it through to destroy a boarding ship. The two attached vessels quickly came under fire as the remaining Seraphs directed their fire to the destroyer and frigate's armor. Both ships felt a constant rumbling from unceasing plasma bolt fire.
      "Captain," Apollo alerted. "I've detected a particular pattern in the Covenant attack patterns. They appear to be targeting specific sections of the armor attempting to weaken them, and I believe use them as entry points for their boarders." The AI highlighted the points on a schematic of the destroyer on a nearby console.
      "Clever little bastards," Roland whispered. One of the targets was only a single section away from the bridge on the hull. "Reassign all marine fire teams to take positions in the adjacent corridors and prepare to evacuate the air from those areas once the enemy is onboard." With any luck that would eliminate the majority of enemy so that the marines could mop up the stragglers that had their own atmosphere. "And post extra guards on the bridge section don't let them get in here."
      Roland looked around to the less than a dozen officers and crew which made up his bridge, how many would make it out of this alive, would any of them? He erased the thought from his mind, instead he reached below the nearby console and pulled out the standard Navy-issue M6D pistol that was holstered there. He removed the magazine and double-checked, it was full, and that was a relief. The captain pulled back on the action pulling a round into the chamber. "Everyone arm yourselves and prepare to engage in combat!"

      Barrows was among one of the squad leaders to get the orders to change position, he now found himself tucked behind a firing obstacle a few feet from the descended blast door. Private McLaughlin was beside him behind the same obstacle, while the rest of the squad was in position behind other objects placed as barriers in the corridor. "Fire team Knife to Ranger, come in Ranger," the sergeant said over the comm system.
      "Roger, Knife, I read you," the fire team positioned on the opposite side of the cornered off area replied.
      "We are in position and ready to engage."
      "Confirmed, we've had no contact with the enemy yet, will update when we do, Ranger out."
      The marines were antsy, on the eve of battle and with the enemy on the approach tensions were mounting and each handled it in their own way. PFC Wayne was the most agitated though, his hand barely gripped the M90 shotgun he held and he was constantly wiping the sweat off. This was his first combat experience against Covenant ground forces, he'd trained and learned about their strengths and weaknesses but now it was time to put that to the test.
      Barrows knew he had a few kids within his ranks, he had to make sure when the time came that they were assets to the fight, not a hindrance. "Listen up boys and girls, stay frosty keep you lines of fire open and blanket their advances with sweeping arcs. Don't let those Elites get in tight!"
      McLaughlin nodded his head, and checked his helmet's eye-display for any new broadcasts across the shipboard channel. Suddenly a new message flashed: COVENANT BOARDERS J-DECK, REINFORCEMENTS NEEDED. But it wasn't a moment later that an explosion rocked the nearby sections and could be heard even through the heavy blast doors.
      "Lock and load marines!" Barrows declared and the actions of eleven assault weapons almost simultaneously clicked. The sergeant trained his weapon ahead using the small port in the barricade to slide the muzzle of his battle rifle through. Quick bursts and steady aim were necessary he knew, Covenant Elites could take a lot of abuse and keep going but enough slugs and even they would go down.
      The sound of an enormous pressure release pushed against the blast doors, the atmosphere was being vented. The boarders quickly recognized the threat and fired their weapons at both blast doors to get out before there was nothing but vacuum. Barrows watched as the center of the door began to change colour from its usual dark grey to red then orange, and heated up all the more. The Covenant that were in there didn't take to kindly to being caged. Barrows tightened his grip, and clinched his teeth.
      The metal white hot then exploded out removing a meter squared area from the door, plasma scorched through the hole meanwhile atmosphere from the non-isolated section rushed in to fill the empty space. The explosion shook the marine fire team causing them to look away for a moment from the blazing light, but as soon as they looked back a red armored grunt was trying to climb through the hole. It was met by a hail of mixed gunfire from eleven different weapons and quickly torn to pieces. Another grunt quickly replaced him but was dispatched just as quickly. Corporal Cuthbert pulled the pin on a frag grenade and tossed it through the hole as well, there was the growl of a startled elite before the explosion filled the air. Then silence, Barrows took a moment to assess the situation, and then decided on the best course of action. He activated his communications to the bridge, "Apollo open up blast door E-20." The distant AI quickly acknowledged and the heavy door began to rise up, all the marines kept their sights trained as it lifted. Still only the mechanical noise of the door was prominent, it was almost fully up when Private Stewart declared confidently, "I think we got them all."
      But a flash of plasma emerged from the closed off section, and soon what appeared like dozens of figures emerged from cover. Grunts and jackals wielding plasma pistols and shields with elites in the rear all opened fire. The small fire team ducked behind cover.
      "You had to open your damn mouth!" Private Ramirez berated Stewart.
      "Watch the chatter and keep an eye on the enemy, target the elites first then we'll deal with the smaller ones," Barrows exclaimed. He then came up from behind the barricade to fire off a quick burst; he hit a blue armored elite in the rear, exciting its energy shield but nothing substantial.
      The fight heated up as both sides exchanged fire but still no one charged out from behind the barricades instead they held positions. Private Hudson fired two quick bursts killing a pair of overconfident grunts and then stood up and threw a grenade into the fray. That gave the Covenant a good target, an elite with a needler opened fire.
      Corporal Annatto spotted the attack first. "Needles incoming!" Hudson quickly turned to see the threat approaching and ducked down. The majority of them impacted harmlessly against the barricade but one of the purple glass shards was guided through and tracked his movement. It hit him right in his chest burying itself into the ballistic armor. Hudson screamed, he was in no pain yet but was veteran enough to know what the needles did. A split second later his armor exploded on his chest sent small fragments in all directions.
      "Hudson report!" Barrows yelled without the use of his radio. A weak moan was all that came through. "Porter, get over to Hudson right now!"
      "Yes sir" the medic responded before he ran over to the other side of their defensive position in a crouch to aid the wounded marine.
      Barrows put his rage to good use; taking aim at the enemy firing a burst at the tiny opening in a jackal's shield knocking the birdlike creature off balance then scoring a kill shot with the next burst.

      At the bridge the enemy had tried only minutes before to make a full frontal assault, but were beaten back straight into the same boarding craft they had taken to get on the Isaac Brock. The attempt cost them thirty soldiers, include five elites, but the UNSC marines still lost eight dead and three wounded. It would not be the last time that the Covenant would try and capture the bridge they knew that. Captain Roland reloaded in a fresh magazine to his pistol, and checked the rest of his bridge crew, they were a little shaken. Most in the Navy were a little to comfortable with the distant ship to ship combat to deal with close quarters fighting he knew. At that point though it was life or death, and any one that could hold a weapon needed to grab one. It was a heavy price to pay but the consequence was extinction of the entire human race if they did not.
      "Apollo how are the rest of our forces doing?" the captain inquired in the recess of combat.
      "One blockade was forced to retreat to an adjacent section, and another fire team was eliminated by a squad of camouflaged elites however reinforcements have eliminated the enemy and taken up the same position. All other stations report holding their ground," the next wave of enemy boarders is in bound currently."
      "And the status of the Confidence and Prophet Muhammad?"
      "Engaging the enemy carrier," the AI announced. "Unfortunately both vessels have suffered a great deal more damage then the enemy has and lack proportional fighter support."
      "What are you saying?"
      "I believe the chances of a successful operation at this point are highly unlikely, more accurately five percent chance of destroying the remaining enemy vessel without suffering total fleet casualties."
      Roland exhaled gravely. He knew what the AI was implying, order all hands to abandon ship, evacuate as many from the Waterloo and Isaac Brock to the two remaining UNSC vessels as possible and then pick up anyone left from the destroyed Huron before jumping out of the system. It was a logical solution, and could save their lives, but what else did it mean? Another world, another system lost to the Covenant. Three more vessels remaining as nothing more than wrecks, a dismal retreat from battle. Was victory at the cost of everything worthwhile, when they could live to fight another day?
      No. Humanity was running out of time, there were only so many worlds to defend, only so many battles to be fought, and finally when it came down to the end there was no retreat. Roland had to fight every fight as if were the last, as if Earth were right behind him, and three decades of war had finally reached its climax.
      "Ensign Jordan inform Captain Reece and Commodore Zedillo of our status and then get back to your post. We're staying here and seeing this fight to the end."

      On the lower decks for every Covenant soldier the marines gunned down two more seemed to take their place. Barrows and his squad had lost three killed and two wounded, but reinforcements from another squad had arrived to back them up. The sergeant came up from cover to fire a pair of bursts knocking down a careless jackal that had lowered its shield. Plasma scorched by his head just as he ducked back down, there was no way to keep the enemy contained, and he simply didn't have enough men. He turned to McLaughlin beside him who despite the plasma burn to his left shoulder was still firing. A scream echoed through the corridor as another of his marines fell.
      "Report!" the sergeant yelled.
      "Stewart's down, sir," a voice announced through the comm system. "They're all over us; we can't take much more of this!"
      "Damn it," Barrows exhaled. He needed to relocate and quickly otherwise they'd be overrun. A plasma grenade exploded in a brilliant blue flash illuminating the entire area but luckily detonating far enough away that no one was harmed. The sergeant didn't bother with the radio this time. "Marines lets move it out! Annatto cover over retreat!"
      And like that the marines emerged from behind the barricades and sprayed the area with a hail of gunfire catching the Covenant off guard while they backpedaled. Barrows saw an elite charge forward, he fired his battle rifle but the enemy refused to halt. The PFC from the other squad saw the elite but too late, he turned the battle rifle to face the elite and let loose a single three round burst but was torn in half by the elite's powerful plasma sword.
      "Move it!" Barrows screamed, as he fired the last of his clip at the same elite. The Marine fire team backed up quickly but the closest corner was fifty feet behind their initial positions. The enemy meanwhile had opened up a hailstorm of plasma on the retreating humans. Corporal Cuthbert stopped only for a moment to try and lay down some cover fire with his BR-55 but was quickly struck by a series of plasma bolts which tore through his ballistics armor on both sides burning away his insides. The sergeant had no sooner watched his man fall then a jackal made a dash at him. It came out from behind cover and charged at him with no regard to its safety whatsoever. Barrows however could do little as the bird-like being ran towards him charging its plasma pistol.
      He couldn't reload his rifle fast enough and take aim before the enemy fired so without losing a backwards stride he threw aside his weapon and reached down to grab a pair of magnum pistols from their holsters. The jackal continued undisturbed until Barrows brought the two pistols to level and pumped his attacker full of four heavy rounds. It released a terrifying squeal before it fell to the ground in a pool of its own blood.
      "Sarge! We gotta get out of here!" One of his men screamed from behind him. He was barely audible over the exchanging gunfire. Finally though they made it around the corridor and while PFC Ramirez and Corporal Annatto delayed the enemy's advance by keeping a field of fire along the corridor they had just retreated from.
      Barrows looked around at the group of troops that were assembled around him, there were only five of them. Hudson, Wayne, McLaughlin, Porter, and Kline were all that was left. They were shaken and most were wounded in one fashion or another. The engagement had cost the squads just under a dozen men and it wasn't over yet. The sergeant knew what he had to do, without fire team Ranger, all of whom had been killed less than five minutes earlier, they needed to contain the enemy to that section.
      "All right ladies, we've still got a job to do. So hand over every smoke grenade you've got and put a fresh one in those weapons. We're going to move back to the access stairway and hold them off there." Barrows declared. "Annatto! Get ready to move."
      "Roger that sarge."
      Once he had all of the squad's remaining smoke grenades he threw a pair of them around the corner to hopefully buy them a bit more time. The other seven marines then started moving away from their position to get to the stairway that led to all other decks. It was only unsecured way for the Covenant to move about the ship, and if they got a holds of it there would be no way to contain them.
      The battle klaxons still sounded throughout the corridors but it was nothing more than ambient noise now. The squad had to move with enough speed to keep ahead of the enemy behind them but carefully so that they didn't run into a Covenant group that was moving through the ship. The NCO was careful to watch the rear of the group, the enemy wouldn't be deterred long by the artificial fog he put up and they tended to have less concern about running around a corner into the enemy.
      "Keep a tight formation and don't slow down," Barrows ordered but just then there was a quiet hiss from behind him and then only half a second later gunfire and screaming.
      A camouflaged elite de-cloaked only a foot away from Private McLaughlin who was leading the squad in front. It raised a plasma sword above its head and brought it down. The marine instinctively raised his rifle up as if to block the attack if it were a conventional blunt weapon but the plasma burned through his gun like a torch and then split him in half cutting through his ballistic armor as if it didn't even exist. PFCs Wayne and Kline jumped back at the sight, but didn't fire, for the moment they were to scared by the sight of the man being ripped apart. The elite however did not pause before it even lifted the sword back up to make another attack it reached out and stuck Kline against the bulkhead with its full force. Wayne was knocked out of his shock by the approaching threat, he raised his shotgun and fired. It struck the elite it the arm and because of the close proximity it tore the entire limb to shreds. The plasma sword was thrown away harmlessly away but the elite pressed on. The young marine tried to aim again but the weapon was grabbed and forced downward; Wayne pulled the trigger and the pellets struck the elite in its foot but that only served to anger it more. It pulled the shotgun from his arms nearly taking them with it and then with its only remaining arm grabbed his throat and lifted him until the 5'10 marine was face to face with the giant creature. Wayne struggled desperately trying to kick or punch away but even with a missing limb the elite was still too powerful.
      Barrows, Ramirez, Porter, Annatto and Hudson were helpless in the rear; the elite protected itself by holding the suffocating private in front of itself blocking any kill shot. The NCO knew in a battle of strength they could not win, and with his man in the way there was no way to eliminate the target. Just as Wayne felt his strength leaving him he summoned whatever he could and struck the elite in its elbow just enough for him to loosen its grip enough. The private with enough energy from temporarily escaping strangulation reached to his side and un-holstered his pistol. He fired six successive rounds until the elite's grip on him dropped to none completely. Both the elite and Wayne fell to the ground.
      The other five marines ran over, both Kline and Wayne were still breathing, but were out cold. Barrows hoisted Wayne over his shoulder and told Porter to carry Kline. The others salvaged for McLaughlin's weapons in the meantime, but just as a moment of calm had struck the squad a plasma bolt screeched overhead. Barrows turned to see a grunt and jackal at the end of the corridor from where they came. The NCO fired both his weapons but with a man on his shoulder it was twice as difficult. Thankfully the three men that carried no one were able to take the two attackers out before any one was hit. That was only the beginning however, Barrows knew.
      "Move out Marines!"

      "Get back Franklin!" The female NCO yelled, but it was too late. The marine was struck by a ceaseless barrage of plasma bolts and his entire body was literally torn apart. The battle for the bridge was not going well. Captain Roland unloaded the rest of his magazine down the left hand corridor but was uncertain if he'd hit anything. Five enemy boarding craft had made it through and latched onto the Isaac Brock only a few minutes earlier. Almost all of them directed their attack at the bridge, and now the command crew and the six remaining marines were cut off from the rest of the ship.
      Roland paced back into the centre of the bridge and called upon Apollo. "What's the fleet status?" he questioned the AI.
      "Both vessels engaging the enemy carrier, the Prophet Muhammad has taken a critical hit to her starboard side however is continuing to engage. The Covenant vessel on the other hand has suffered irreparable damage and no longer possesses a functional slipspace drive. Unfortunately both of our vessels lack heavy firepower to destroy or disable the enemy."
      "Damn it." Roland uttered. As long as that carrier was intact it would continue to send boarders and neither the Brock nor Waterloo could fend them off for much longer. Just as that thought crossed his mind a plasma grenade detonated in the background. It was closer then he expected, and Roland knew right then that the bridge would fall well before any other part of the ship would. "Apollo, send word to anyone on board, if they can make it to the bridge in one piece, do it. We'll need all the help we can get."
      "Affirmative Captain."

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