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Fate Ch. 1
Date: 15 June 2005, 5:03 PM

Author's note-
ok guys its been a really long time since I've been here, I promise it should get better as it progresses.



2553, EARTH

       The Marine inhaled, turned the corner and squeezed off a hail of armor piercing rounds down a long, rain drenched street. The Elite's shield absorbed the first salvo but the next two killed the personal protection and easily sliced through the alien's body armor, violet black blood gushed through the newly made depressions. The Sangheili stared down at his devastated armor, his mandibles limp, though he stood standing. Another Marine grew tired of waiting for the alien to fall; he rushed forward and fired a sustained burst into its stomach. The alien doubled over as it fell in a puddle of its own entrails. The mortally wounded Elite starred as the squad of marines jogged past him, none taking the time or the ammunition to put him out of his misery, rain pelted his face as his eyes slowly drifted to a close.
       PFC. Ryan Kemp wiped the rain from his eyes as he stepped over the fallen Elite. The empty magazine from his rifle fell the ground with a "clink" and he knocked the next on his helmet and slid it into the receiver. PFC. Michael Fitzgerald stood next to him; assault rifle at the ready, Corporal Ethan Bauer followed, slinging his rifle and kneeling to recover the alien's plasma grenades. Sergeant Jeremy Pearson finally emerged form the building carrying a box of ammunition. He set it down and tossed each of them four magazines and two fragmentation grenades. This was treasure for the humans, ammo was scarce, and it was becoming impossible to find.
       New York was a mess, contact with other Marine regiments had been seldom, it had been raining for days, and almost every first story building had been devastated. The four Marines made their way to Times Square, hoping to find human resistance or some form of transportation. Pearson motioned the other men to a stop as he peered around the corner. The street was littered with bodies of humans and Covenant combined, when Pearson sighted what he was looking for: a Warthog. The LRV M41 was in good shape by the looks of it, but it was hard to tell from this distance. Two Ghosts sped down the street followed by a squadron of Grunts that waddled behind. Two matte clad Elites stood in the center of the square, one holding a captured human assault rifle and the other a plasma rifle. Apparently, both factions were having supply issues.
       "Alright, Fitzgerald take a flanking position over there on the right with Bauer, Kemp, you're with me, wait for my orders boys, but when you get them, give them hell." Pearson said as he raised his S2 AM sniper's rifle. He activated the 10x scope and zoomed on the ranking Elite's head, Fitzgerald and Bauer disappeared from his peripheral vision. When confident his mark could be hit, he fixed the silencer and tapped the trigger twice, two silent coughs emitted twin death. The first struck the Elite in the sternum, and the second, in the creature's throat. The two vital areas spat blood and exposed organs and muscle tissue. The alien fell into a gutter with a splash, the second Elite was dumbfounded, having now idea what had just befallen his comrade in arms, when a hail of armor piercing rounds brought him to the wet ground in a hurry. A troop of Grunts trotted out form an ally way parallel to Pearson's position. They fired ill placed bolts towards Fitzgerald and Bauer while they took cover behind a flipped vehicle. Kemp waited for the diminutive aliens to expose their flanks and leapt from cover and hosed them down with well placed bursts of ammunition. Two more scarlet clad Elites had emerged from a hotel but Bauer had already put them to their end. Pearson jogged across the wet surface and to the center of the square, Kemp followed. Bauer and Fitzgerald were taking refuge behind an old statue. Another Grunt made a jump from a fallen plasma pistol but missed falling on its face, slipping in the puddles, scrambling to reach to weapon. Fitzgerald approached it slowly and crushed its skull with his boot. Satisfied that the area was reasonably secure, Pearson motioned towards the LRV. The Sergeant himself settled behind the wheel, while Fitzgerald took the gun and Bauer and Kemp took passenger positions. Pearson held his breath as he flicked the ignition switch, the large engine roared to life as the Sergeant smiled.
       For the next several hours, the Marines were harassed by all manner of Covenant soldiers, even Hunters, who nearly decimated the entire squad. Pearson swerved past a crashed troop carrier, whose occupants were scattered across the sidewalks. Kemp continues to fiddle with the radio; their own communicators had been limited to SQUADCOM and didn't have the kind of range to reach Echo Base outside of the city. "Got it." Kemp said curtly. "Echo Base this is Private Kemp, our platoon has taken multiple casualties, four of us are left, and we need evacuation ASAP." Kemp ended the transmission and waited for a response. ".....Roger that Marine, we have your position, ready to arrange pickup at safe-zone alpha, do you copy?" the voice came over the radio. Kemp paused and hastily scrambled in the glove box for a map, he consulted the map, which would have been much easier if his HUD was in working operation. The marine found Alpha zone and shook his head. "Negative sir, I don't know if we have enough supplies to make it that far, I have a landing pad marked here only a few miles out." Kemp replied. "....I don't know Marine, area designated is extremely hot, we can't loose another bird...we'll try Marine, but I can't promise anything, but recent transmissions prove another platoon should be moving through grid 36 by 13, you boys have a good chance if you RV with them...sorry." The voice answered regretfully. Kemp began to explain but Pearson silenced him, telling him everyone had heard the transmission. "Looks like we gotta long night ahead of us boys." Pearson called over the large engine's rumblings.
       Field Master Motrumee stood silently, rain pelting his impassable look of determination. His fellow Sangheili stood in the same manner as the Kig-Yar walked confidently from the installation towards the Phantoms docked there. One of the more primitive bug-like Yanme'e flew over head. Motrumee despised the Drones, nearly as much as the Jiralhanae. The Master set aside the enmities and focused on the task at hand, the simple mission was to locate and exterminate a human strike team...perfect. The newly promoted Field Master inspected his plasma pistol and his newly acquired energy lance, a perk if you will; command does have its privileges. The strike team was attempting to intercept a prisoner that was being escorted to a Covenant cruiser for interrogation. Motrumee and his men were thirsty for blood, they had just been reassigned to the front lines and they had never been so exuberant to do so...
       The Phantom sped towards the outskirts of a Covenant held city and landed on a rain soaked grassy clearing. The Sangheili leapt from the drop bay following by the Kig -Yar, the Field Master activated his sword and an ice blue blade of plasma laced out from its emitters. Motrumee pointed to his second in command and motioned him to fall out to a flanking position and followed his own troops to their positions. Within several units, two Ghosts followed by a Wraith passed by, then the shadow that bore the prisoner, followed by another tank and two more of the reconnaissance vehicles. A volley of human HE projectiles, "rockets" they were called smashed into the once orderly convoy. The smoke cleared and the horror was revealed, his second squad was gone, their position overrun with human warriors, the Ghosts were destroyed, and the Wraiths not in working operation, the surviving Sangheili had formed a hastily prepared perimeter around the nearly untouched Shadow. Motrumee came to his senses and gave the order to charge. His Elites opened fire, several humans had been felled but another human warrior emerged to take their place, the human killed two Elites with something akin to ease. A third approached the newcomer but the human brought his rifle down on the skull of the Elite, the alien struck him again, and yet again, but then shot him twice. Motrumee looked at the interloper with anger, despair and fear. He drew his pistol and fired several bolts. Instead of fall as he should have, he was surrounded by a golden display of energy: personal shields. Motrumee froze. This was him, the demon, the soul human warrior he feared, and this lone soldier had killed thousands of his kind, not to mention the Grunts, Drones and Jackals. The Sangheili made a decision, kill him. His sword was raised high as the warrior sprinted forward, gripping the weapon with both hands. The human fired a sustained burst that was absorbed mostly by his shield but ultimately killed them. The human stepped inward and the flash of metal caught the Elite's eye. The knife cut through the armor and penetrated flesh. The demon recoiled and brought his pistol to bear, Motrumee tried to ignore the pain of the blade stuck in his stomach, he wondered how this human could have inflicted so much damage within seconds as he brought down his blade towards the human, the blow was on target and slowly melted through the armor, slowly...too slowly. The human's reflective visor masked any emotion, the Sangheili pushed the blade deeper into the human's side, but he dropped his sidearm and gripped the handle of the combat knife, pulling it out of the wound. Black blood spurted from the hole in the armor, Motrumee staggered, he had killed dozens of humans what made this one so different. The knife rotated and again entered his body, just below his throat, blood foamed from his open mandibles, through he pushed the blade deeper. The alien then spun and his armored elbow smashed into the Sangheili's "cheek". The warrior stumbled but regained his footing raising the pistol and managed to squeeze off several bolts. The plasma hit home, splashing against the human, and it recoiled. Victory! Thoughts of promotion and glory raced through his mind when he felt something nudge his boot...a fragmentation grenade.
       Sergeant AJ Blackwell's grenade settled at the feet of the platinum clad alien warrior. Shrapnel sprayed up the Elite's back and tossed him like a rag doll several meters in the air.
       Just before the explosive had detonated, Motrumee realized his error...the human stumbled backward to avoid the grenade itself...not him.
      Field Officer Sola Rolazee watched in disgust as his subordinate's body was tossed high into the air and landed in a gory heap. Motrumee had been foolish to engage the human at close range, especially when the demon had allies to protect his vulnerabilities....if he had any. Rolazee squeezed off two bolts and another marine fell, but the Covenant didn't have a prayer. Armor piercing rounds cut apart the Sangheili that stood next to the Field Officer, another grenade detonated throwing several Kig-Yar across the grounds, cut to ribbons. Rolazee primed and dropped a plasma grenade and ran. The Shadow began to pull off but the armored human leapt onto the bow primed a grenade and fused it to the pilots helmet. The hapless Elite scrambled to tear the helm off when it detonated spraying bits of brains and bone throughout the cockpit.
       Major Jason Salazar struggled in to cargo hold of the Shadow hearing the multiple bullets pinging off the alien metal. Though he couldn't see, he felt blood spatter on his cheek and felt his captor fall heavily on his legs. An armored hand jerked off the blindfold and offered him a help up. The Major recognized a Spartan when he saw one and gladly accepted the help. Master Chief SPARTAN 117 surrendered his own side arm handle first towards the Marine officer. Salazar gripped the handle and shot the Elite once more in the head. John exited the alien vehicle and fired a controlled burst into a Grunt who had been scrambling to hide behind a damaged Wraith tank. Sergeant Blackwell approached him, his own rifle at ease.
       "Master Chief, area in the clear Sir, all Covenant forces have been eliminated, and Echo 231 is en route to our location for evac." Blackwell stated.
       "Affirmative Sergeant, good work, and thank you." Salazar replied.
       John looked back onto the devastated New York, its pastel outlines of flame etched sad, mournful memories of the hell that was going on inside of the city.
       Pearson down shifted and the LRV caught air as it sped off a ramp of debris. The 50mm LAAG roared behind him, as Fitzgerald's scream barely was heard over the thunder of the gun, the massive projectiles streamed towards the steadily approaching Banshees. Pearson dug his heel into the pedal, begging the Warthog to go faster. Finally several rounds hit home and crippled the attack craft. The small flyer spun once, collided into a building and fluttered to the ground with a blue-white explosion. Kemp stood in the passenger seat and fired a controlled burst from his assault weapon which cut the Grunt standing on the sidewalk with a plasma grenade to Swiss cheese, neon blue blood spouted form the wounds and the alien troopers fell with a squeak. The marines were nearing the outskirts of the city now, but what awaited them is something they didn't expect. Two smaller grade Human ships hovered a few dozen miles form the city as routes of pelicans surged to their bays.
       "Go, go, go!" Blackwell cried as he motioned his marines into the dropship, he could even see the Covenant cruiser gathering overhead preparing to glass the planet. The marines had never shown more effort in their lives. Luckily Blackwell and his men had achieved their mission and had rescued Major Salazar, the commander of the New York campaign. But even a larger victory as this was forgotten as the humans scrambled towards the Pelican. Their pilot, Flight Officer McCann, waited for the crew chief to call, "Good to go!" and fed fuel to his engines and the pelican load of marines jetted towards the Spartacus, a Human frigate awaiting evacuating troopers.
       Pearson shifted gears and hit the brakes just as a fuel rod round hit nearby, the blast tossed the four humans like rag dolls from the devastated LRV, as the marines hit the ground running, it was fifty meters to the LZ, and they had every intention on making it there alive. The Pelicans were in sight now, and fellow marines were scuttling to their troop bays. After a harrowing run through a faulty ambush of Covenant Grunts the marines finally reached the Pelican, pulling themselves into the seats, and finding something between a sense of fear and satisfaction.
       "Bravo 38 is lifting off, ETA to Spartacus is three minutes." The pilot yelled into his boom mike. "Roger that, we'll be waiting for you." Someone replied. Earth was about to be glassed and turning into just another desolate hell hole that were once called human home worlds. The human fleet had nearly called back all of its surviving Marine detachments from the surface and were preparing to jump system. The Spartacus and the Athens had gathered their Marines from the East Coast of North America and were headed back to the fleet. Ship to ship combat had ceased several days ago, now all combat had been based planet side. Thirty four human war ships, with a combined contingent of roughly eighty three hundred Marines, a formidable force indeed, though if the Covenant knew where they were going they would have dealt with them more quickly, instead of letting them run while they glassed their planet. The Humans were headed towards Installation 06, or Delta Halo. Thanks to the Covenant, the Flood had been contained in the Quarantine Zone and destroyed; they had made nearly every structure defendable and had openly declared that there were hundreds of ways to find food on the ring.
       The UNSC fleet arrived at the Ring several days later, armed regiments of marines had already been to the surface and cleared any Covenant resistance. Numerous bases of operation had been established: three consisting of smaller class frigates such as the In Amber Clad that had originally discovered the ring, another in a canyon almost completely closed off, sporting one of the strange beacons and various other Forerunner buildings, the Island fortress that held the map room had been captured and fortified and finally the Control room and everything within a dozen miles of it. Halo had been captured and colonized, and Humanity had an advantage...the Covenant could never touch the Ring from space, first off seven MAC turrets had been "borrowed" from Earth, and secondly the Covenant wouldn't dare desecrate the temples of their gods, so if the humans were loosing in space, they would pull back to the surface and deploy their Marines. This was their strategy for something more than survival, but victory. But unbeknownst to the Human force, the Flood were something far from extinct...



Alright yeah theres a lot of extra stuff in there and its kinda choppy but tell me what I can fix and I'll be happy to do so.

Fate Ch.2
Date: 1 July 2005, 9:36 pm

2553
Aboard the "In Amber Clad"
Location: High Charity, in orbit of Installation 06
Two days ago

       Master Sergeant Jeremy Ryan lay prone in the debris inside of the "Amber Clad". His vision blurred and finally cleared. He looked around trying to remember where he was. Blood was smeared across the floor, giving indication a body had been dragged away….but by what? Ryan felt his head then looked at his hand…slicked in blood. He pulled a bandana from his pack and bandaged the wound. He rose to his feet and pulled out his M6C pistol surveying the room, a battle rifle lay on the ground; he holstered the sidearm and bent down to handle the BR-55. The door sensed his presence and slid open. A marine lay propped up against the wall at the far side of the hallway. The Sergeant ran to him. The marine clenched the Sergeant's chest plate and breathed: "Sarge….they're dead. It killed them…it killed them all." the private muttered quietly and released his grip and slumped back against the wall, breathing his last. Ryan pulled away and swung around to the doorway. A rotting corpse fell from the ceiling grating. But then it came to its feet looking around. Jeremy let loose a fury of rounds ripping into the creatures decaying flesh. It stopped inches from his face and fell backwards, riddled with bullet holes. The Sergeant ran to a wall mounted directory finding the Pelican drop ship bays. He found the quickest route and sprinted down the indicated corridors. The room before the bay was an armory. Ryan took a deep breath and hit the door control. The door slid open. He was faced with two stationary 30mm gun turrets and four shotguns at his face. "Sarge, is that you?!" a familiar Australian accent asked. "Yea Shaw sure is." The marines relaxed. "Good sir, the flood has been trying to use this route to the pelicans for hours. Jeremy took note of the spongy terrain he was standing on happened to be bodies of fallen combat forms. "Let's pray to God that there's still a drop ship out there for us." an ODST stated. Three more of the Helljumpers emerged from the darkness. Everyone in the room was armed with shotguns. "Alright, we have to get off this ship, Patterson, police those Jackhammers, Shaw you got the radio, Jumpers-you boys got our six, we'll move the supplies into the pelican and you guys make sure we get off this death trap in one piece, you hear me marines?" Ryan asked, "Yes Sir Sarge!" The marines entered the bay. The side they had entered was deserted, only two pelicans remained. The opposing side had four pelicans and was bustling with Flood. The Pelican off to the right was a gunship; it would come in handy for the marines. Ryan motioned for the ODSTs to get that gunship ready for launch ASAP. Ryan waved the rest of the regulars to load the supplies and the injured. They did so, quickly and quietly. Lance Corporal Sam Reinhart took the pilot position in the gunship and warmed the engines. Weapon displays filled the view screen he selected a Pelican that had just filled up with Flood. "Sir? Permission to fire?" asked the ODST. "Hold up Reinhart, we're movin' out the last wounded, okay granted, fire at will." Ryan replied. "Jimmy! Brock! Get in we're getting' outta here! The marines looked at each other then at the door. The door dented imprints of tentacles. Decaying fingers pried it open. The guns flared up, as did the door gun of the pelican. Jimmy broke off and grabbed Brock by the collar and pulled him to his feet. The marines sprinted through the door as the drop ship broke from the hanger and separated from the platform. The marines jumped. Patterson and Shaw caught them and pulled them into their seats, buckling them down. Reinhart fired the ARCHER missiles mounted on the wings of the gun ship. He crippled two Flood controlled drop ships. "Okay Sarge punch it we got your six, we'll follow you out!" Reinhart called over the comm. "Roger that marine, thank you."

       Cortana surveyed the various corridors and council chambers of High Charity. Surprisingly, The Brutes had mounted a formidable offense for taking back the city. But Cortana saw that too many of the larger areas were infested with Flood. Cortana sighed as she locked down several rooms cutting off the Flood from spreading. Then something surprised her. A human transponder, in fact eleven total and two human controlled pelican drop ships. She looked up the transponder as belonging to Lance Corporal Samuel Reinhart. "Corporal Reinhart? This is Cortana do you read? Corporal? Say again do you read?" Cortana said hopefully. "Cortana?! What are you doing here?" Reinhart answered. Cortana sighed with relief. "Never mind that marine, touch down at this NAV point; I'll take care of the hostiles. Cortana concentrated and commandeered a ceiling mounted turret in the same sector the Chief had witnessed Truth escape on a Phantom. Flood stood watch until superheated plasma melted their rotting bodies. The crashed pelican lay dormant…with no Flood emerging. Cortana quickly programmed the gun to target Covenant and Flood and focused on protecting the incoming gunship. "Sergeant? This is Reinhart; Cortana is in the city, I'm moving in to pick her up, roger?" Sam asked. "Absolutely Corporal, but make it quick its getting hot up here." Jeremy replied. Sam approached the landing pad. A Pelican lay in wreckage but the pad was clear. Sam eased the Pelican down. "Okay, JC go get Cortana!" "Sir!" The ODST jumped from the gun ship and sprinted over to a fallen Prophet's Hover chair. The Prophet lay with a hole in his neck. The Helljumper stepped over the corpse and Cortana appeared on the chair's arm. "Good to see you marine…and thank you." Cortana said. "Anytime ma'am." JC said as he retrieved the chip from the pedestal. The door burst open pouring infection and carrier forms followed by hundreds of infected Humans, Elites and Brutes. JC stood there paralyzed with the sight of four of his teammates' rotting corpses rushing towards him. Sam turned the pelican and opened up with the 70mm on the ship's belly. JC shook it off and grabbed Rob's hand, the third hell jumper, and pulled himself into his seat, buckling down. Sam got airborne and headed for the gap in the ceiling of the city. Sam patched his comm. into Sergeant Ryan's pelican speakers. "Alright Sarge, I'm right on your six." He said. "Uh-oh, we got trouble marines, the gap is closing." Ryan replied. A Covenant Cruiser had stationed itself over the gap. Seraph fighters flew out from the bays and into the city. They surveyed the carnage and as if not content with what they saw broke off and returned to the cruiser. The marines exhaled in relief, but they were quickly worried again when particles of energy began to gather on the Cruiser's main gun. "We have to get out of here Reinhart, punch it!" The Sarge said. The two human ships accelerated to make it to the gap in time. Sam pulled ahead and above Ryan's troopship. The beam fired. The tail of the Pelican Gunship was lit ablaze. Sam's comm. shorted out. The gap was in reach. Sam's craft sputtered as the engines flickered off. The gunship crashed onto the outer dome of High Charity. Jeremy maneuvered away from the flaming hull of the gunship. Jeremy closed his eyes trying not to think about the doomed men. He had the ring in view as he accelerated to the control center. The damaged pelican wobbled into the atmosphere and surveyed the layout of the terrain around the structure. A wrecked phantom lay half buried in the sand of the beach. A Scarab stood near the main door, which had been blown open. Jeremy slowly approached the doorway and turned the troop compartment to the door. Six marine regulars hopped off the ramp and to the door. They cautiously entered the burnt hallway and into the room beyond that was littered with dead brutes. "Holy crap mate, it's safe to say the chief was here lately!" Shaw said crouching next to the Honor Guard Brute's body with a hole in its chest. "That wasn't the Chief marine." A familiar voice stated. "That was our new ally." Sergeant Johnson stood with a shotgun leaning against his shoulder. An eight foot tall Elite emerged behind him. The marine raised their weapons. "Hold your fire boys, he's a friend." Johnson said. The Arbiter gave a nod to the marines and signaled to several more Elites behind him. They were counselors, clad in silver armor and elegant helmets, all of them bearing energy swords. The marines nervously backed down. Another marine sergeant and a private ran into the room, bearing plasma pistols. "Glad you boys could make it; I thought we were the only ones left." Sergeant Stacker said. Miranda Keyes emerged from the control room gripping the index in her left hand and a plasma pistol in the other.

       Jeremy flew the pelican around the structure and finally found a landing pad. Another Phantom lay in wreckage. He set the pelican down and found an open door. Jeremy slowly walked down the hallway studying the various tapestries of ancient times hung on the wall. Hundreds of the pictures were inscribed on the walls. They were extremely symbolic. Some had shown the Covenant, others the Flood. He relaxed his BR-55 and began to stroll. There were no doors along the hall. A large inscription along with another tapestry hung at the end of the hall. It was a Forerunner. It appeared a mix between Human and Sangheili or an Elite. It was strong but had a wise look upon its face. Its armor was elaborately detailed and elegant. Jeremy was entranced, something about the picture…something. An explosion detonated right in front of him propelling him backwards and onto his back. His leg burned then he lost feeling of it. He turned to see an approaching Brute wielding a Brute shot. The blade on the edge of the weapon raced towards his head. Ryan rolled as he fired his BR-55 at full auto. The plasma coated rounds tore through the Brute's leather-like skin. The creature sneered raising the Brute shot one last time to fire the last grenade, suddenly a hail of plasma washed the Brute form beyond and the creature fell, dead. A silver clad Elite veteran strode down the hallway, two zealot Elites following swords and plasma rifles drawn. Their golden armor was spattered with dark purple blood. The Spec Ops Commander nodded at the Human and gathered the control to help him up. The Commander sighted the green blood of the Flood staining his armor. "I see you have encountered the parasite, Human." He said to The Sergeant. "Yea, just a few." The Sarge said uncomfortably. "Come with me warrior, I shall lead you to the rest of your kin." Ryan hesitantly followed the silver clad veteran along the cat walk to the main door into the "lobby" outside of the control center. 4 Elites stood waiting there, along with 9 marines. His HUD read them as SGT. AJ Johnson, SGT. Pete Stacker, Lance Corporal Jerrod Shaw, PVT. Jimmy Caldwell, PVT. Brock Davidson, Corporal John Dash, PVT. Tyler Maniaci, Corporal Nick Guerra and Corporal Shifty Patterson. These were the finest marines Jeremy had had the pleasure of fighting along side. Then he remembered the four ODSTs lost in the escape of the city.

       "Reinhart…Reinhart, wake up." Sam's vision blurred as he tried to recognize his surroundings. He was still in the gunship…thank God. Cortana continued to speak to him. "Are you alright Marine?" she asked. "Yea Cortana, I'm ok, how's my squad?" he replied. "In the troop bay, I don't think we had any casualties." Cortana stated. "JC! Rob! Adam! You boys ok?!" Sam called back. "Yes sir, Corporal!" the three said in unison. "Um, Corporal? We have a problem." Cortana said. Sam looked out the view screen. The gunship was slipping off the dome; the wreckage of the Phantom in front of them wasn't keeping them still. "Everybody back there buckle up!" Sam yelled as he prepped the engines. The Phantom skidded away and left the limping pelican in free fall towards the Ring. An alarm blared in his ear as he struggled with the controls to let him use the engines. "Emergency thrust…now!" The blast propelled the gunship into the atmosphere of the Ring and sending it barreling towards the surface. The clouds cleared and Sam sighted a large dome like structure with tall towers. But they were headed to the water below it. The canyon he was falling through began to open to the ocean. A small bridge came into view…a Phantom along with it. "How does this happen to me?!" Sam yelled as he selected the target and fired the missiles. The ARCHER missiles detonated on the engines and the guns of the Phantom. It fired two rounds then suddenly dropped to the water below. The pelican brought his nose up slightly enough to crash land on the bridge. The nose bounced up unto the extension then gunship turned sideways and skidded edge of the bridge and broke through the wall of the extension. The nose leaned over the edge and the tail was mostly destroyed while being propped against a support column. Sam pulled Cortana's chip from the control panel and slipped it into the slot in his helmet. He pulled open the door to the troop bay. JC had a gash running from his forehead to his cheek. Sam helped him up and met the other hell jumpers outside. They had a defensive position set, with two of the turrets operational.
It must have been awhile since the crash, because several Brute and Jackal carcasses were littered near the door. "We got your back sir." Rob said as he locked in another chain of ammunition. "My last one sir, I don't know how long we can last; I can hear 'em talking back there, they're going to try and overrun us. Sam noticed Rob's arm had a large piece of shrapnel protruding from his it. "Rob, take care of that arm." He said. "Yes sir." The marine pulled out his knife and began to dig out the metal. Jackals poured out both doors with a few Brutes behind them. Plasma washed over the wreckage the marines were hiding behind. The guns lit up. The Jackals pushed forward at first but then faded back as the 30mm bullets ripped through their alien skin. The Brutes threw the dying creatures out of the way and rushed the guns. Sam fell backward from his post and brought his shotgun to bear. The M90 fired two 12 gauge rounds, leaving the Brute near death. Sam grabbed the trigger of the turret and finished the beast. A berserker Brute charged, JC and Rob let loose with their MA5B assault rifles. The marines circled the Brute and continued firing, not letting up. The turret came back to life and after about 200 rounds of ammunition the Brute went down. This Brute was clad in Honor Guard armor and extremely strong. "We got trouble sir!" Adam called as he picked up his assault rifle. Drones flew down into the crash site, they seemed to be everywhere and they didn't stop coming. Assault rifles opened up, and dozens of the creature's bodies began to litter the bridge. Grunts began to march out the doors, along with more Jackals. "There's too many of them Sir, I'm running low!" Rob called out. Adam swung around and shot done a drone about to shoot Sam and received a blast in the chest. The plasma didn't penetrate the armor but the strength of the blow threw him over the edge of the bridge. "Man down! Man down!" JC yelled as he fired off the last of his clip and ducked to reload.

       "Alright marines listen up." Johnson said. "We still got too many Brutes in this area to settle down, now"— an explosion went somewhere outside. Johnson jogged out through the burnt hallway and raised his binoculars. The other marines and Elites followed. Johnson sighted 4 ODSTs taking refuge behind a crashed pelican. Covenant infantry had surrounded them, firing at will. Johnson saw a marine fall from the Bridge. Patterson hefted his S2 AM sniper rifle and began to fire. The Arbiter and The Spec Ops Commander signaled to the Elites and they ran back into the structure. SGT. Johnson raised his Beam Rifle and assisted Patterson. "Where'd big, tall and scary go?" Shaw asked referring to the Elites. Three banshees and a Phantom flew overhead. "Was that them?" Stacker asked. "I don't know but keep up the fire!" Johnson ordered.

       The Grunts, Jackals and Drones were closing the gap, and the ODSTs were running low on ammo. Rob crashed to the ground with a barrage of needles in his chest. For some reason they didn't detonate, but just stuck. The marine began to pluck the projectiles out as he held his assault rifle with one hand to give himself some protection. Sam fired three rounds, ripping apart a Jackal, and then turned to cover his wounded comrade. JC fired off his second to last clip and began to use his MA5B as a club. A Grunt and two Jackals fell with indentations in their skulls. "Don't let up marines!" Sam ordered. A Jackal turned the corner owning a plasma rifle. Its finger twitched as it was about to fire, but a 14.3mm round entered and exited his neck. Purple blood sprayed the marine. "Phantom and Banshees coming in from the West Sir!" JC called. Reinhart turned as he saw the Banshees fire their fuel rod cannons. He closed his eyes. The blasts struck a reinforcement team of Grunts and Drones. The Phantom sprayed the Jackals with superheated plasma then continued on its way. "What the?" JC said, not believing that a Covenant drop ship had just saved their lives. A blade swung in front of him, it had killed a Grunt attempting to throw a grenade at him. "Hey thanks—He stopped talking when he realized it was a Brute that killed it. The ODST swung his rifle, continuing to bash the Brute in the teeth and skull. The Brute lost its balance and fell backwards to its death. The marines began to collapse from exhaustion. Each of them slapped their last magazine into their rifles. The bodies began to pile up; the ODSTs were now inside the gunship. A shower of bullets peppered the minor infantry units. A figure stood in front of the troop bay. He gestured to them and the shock troopers rose. The man that had saved their lives was Staff Sergeant Stacker. "C'mon marines we're getting out of here pronto!" The ODSTs followed the Sergeant through a war torn room and through a long hallway and all the way to a landing pad on the opposite side of the canyon. A pelican hovered slightly off the edge. Sam and the two remaining hell jumpers felt a wash of relief spread through their bodies. Master Sergeant Jeremy Ryan waved them in. The ODSTs jogged to the pelican and stepped inside. Sam recognized several of the marines that he fought with on Earth. It seemed so long ago, when really it had only been a week or two. "Good to see you again Marines, welcome aboard." Ryan said. The Pelican glided back towards the Control Room when something happened that they had had the fear to hope for, Human ships, dozens of them exited slip space above their heads, and routes of Pelican dropships streamed towards their position. The Elites saw this as well; already knowing that their time here would soon come to an end bade the humans' farewell and departed to their own ship, which soon jumped out system.

* * * * *

2553, Covenant High Council
Aboard the Gods' Wrath


       Field Officer Sola Rolazee stood impassable in his black with gold trimmed Forerunner armor. The Sangheili had taken his position in the center of a dimly lit room which housed the Council of Masters. Seven platinum clad Elite Councilors sat silently until one of them stood. The Senior Warrior spoke briefly with his colleges and then addressed him.
       "Sola Rolazee. You were said have contact with the demon before he struck down my newly elected Field Master, if so, why not attempt to kill the human?" the Councilor asked his tone calm but was infected with a hint of challenge.
       "I support the field report that stated I had contact with the demon, Excellency, just as Motrumee was slain, the prisoner was compromised, I took the initiative to avoid that danger—"
       Therefore, in conclusion the prisoner was lost, if you had stood your ground and killed the demon, we would have the human commander now, you, Rolazee, are found responsible for this loss." Another Councilor interrupted.
       Rolazee stole a glance to another council, just in time to see the Sangheili on trial be executed. Just as a smile crept at his closed mandibles he saw the lead Councilor draw his sidearm and fired. The Sangheili tried to scream the superheated bolt had already melted his face. The Sangheili's hands clawed at his face and then finally dropped to the floor in a puddle of deep purple blood.
       To add to the Covenant's already surprising nature, they did not glass Earth, but curiously landed more and more ground forces onto the surface, while the brunt of the Fleet followed the fleeing humans. Unbeknownst to the Covenant forces, a UNSC "Prowler" had seen and recorded everything that the Covenant had been up to.

* * * * *

       Staff Sergeant Jeremy Pearson rested his assault rifle on the moss covered log that lay on its side. His team scuttled up to the severely damaged entry way to the walls that housed the Quarantine Zone.
"Eagle four this is Bravo two-thirty-six, heard you called for a lift, touchdown in five." The dropship pilot called over Pearson's SQUADCOM.
       "Roger Bravo, just a little boost to see what's on the other side of this wall." Pearson replied.
       "Affirmative Eagle four, happy to help." Bravo said.
       The plasma scored troopship glided lazily to their position. Two Marines hopped out, rifles at ready, scanning the area for anything hostile. Fitzgerald and Bauer cautiously approached the dropship, when satisfied it was friendly, signaled to Pearson and Kemp.
       The Crew Chief called "Clear!" and the Pelican fired its belly jets and the craft accelerated upward and over the immense wall. Lieutenant Finn's motion tracer flashed an alert, his hand hovered over the Pelican's nose gun and ARCHER pods. Then the signal was gone, simply vanished. The pilot shook off his curiosity and focused on flying this bird. The Pelican finally cleared the wall, only to reveal something worse than Hell itself beyond. Hundreds, no thousands of contacts appeared all at once, Finn eyed a pair of fallen Pelican dropships, along with countless crashed Phantoms and Banshee fliers littering the scene. Finn quickly accessed the Pelican's zoom features, getting a closer look at whatever those things were. When he saw them, he wished he had not. Grotesque creatures scrambled to and fro, most of them disturbingly reminded him of rotting humans' and Elites' corpses, which in theory were exactly what they were.
       "Lieutenant, we've seen enough, get us out of here, the Brass is gunna wanna hear about this." Pearson called into his boom mike over the roar of the monstrous engines.
       After a three second pause Finn replied, "Granted Sergeant, one last fly by of the Pelicans' crash site to see if there are any survivors, then we'll pull out."
       The magnification of the dropship had shown three marines, not of any regiment within the new colony, firing assault weapons at full automatic. The living dead corpses threw themselves at the marines' position. Finn's helmet was linked to the 70mm chain gun mounted on the troopship's nose, he turned his head and clenched the trigger, dozens of the creatures shuddered under the sheets of highly explosive seventy millimeter bullets. The chatter of the Marines rifles in the troop bay grew more furious as the dropship edged closer to protect the trio of battle-exhausted marines. The Pelican hovered close to the ground and its contingent of marines stepped off the craft, while the trio of marines stepped on, after nearly ten seconds of protecting the marines' perimeter the other six marines quickly entered the Pelican as it lifted off, every manner of its weaponry firing everything it had, dozens of the corpses were transformed into paste, while even more came to take their place. Finn's co-pilot, Petty Officer Tao, took control of the ship while Finn continued to control the weapons.
       "We're clear! All hostiles are outta range, cease fire." The Crew Chief called to Finn.
       Finn exhaled deeply and took the craft over the wall and back into the forest beyond the wall and set the dropship down in a sheltered clearing, well within the forest's protection. The three marines they had rescued weren't in great shape, but well enough to fight and talk.
       "……Lance Corporal Chase Strewcker, Sir, me and my men crashed there yesterday, then starting today, all hell broke loose, they wouldn't stop coming, we're lucky you boys came when you did, you guys crew from the 'In Amber Clad'?" Strewcker asked.
       Pearson eyed him wearily. "The 'In Amber Clad'? I'm sorry Marine we lost contact with those boys when they jumped from Earth, recent contacts prove she was later lost to the Covenant, don't worry Marine, you and your men will be fine, we've got a lot of backup here." Pearson answered.
       Three hours later the Pelican flew towards the island base which housed the map room. The island's beaches had tank barriers set up, along with bunkers carved into the walls of the cliff face. A pair of Warthogs sped across the sand, racing towards the base HQ in the center of the island. The Headquarters was protected by surrounding wall-like cliffs, with sheltered the installation from all sight but the air, there were multiple circular landing pads, one of which Finn touched down on. The Marines bailed and helped their wounded comrades to the infirmary, were to their best knowledge would be scanned from any infection form the hostile presence on the ring. The loud speakers belched static then: "Staff Sergeant Pearson and First Lieutenant Finn, report to debriefing immediately."
       When the two soldiers entered the large ONI room, there were already two noncom Marines there.
       "Ah, Pearson and Finn, come to the center of the room, please." A deep male voice commanded. "Now let's get started, we've located a total of a few dozen UNSC personnel throughout the Ring, none of them belonging to any of our Regiments, they have all been debriefed, or will be soon, but so far they have told the same story, A Sergeant Avery Johnson, fourteen other noncoms along with a Commander Miranda Keyes, near the beginning of this operation, where found very near our base at the Control Room. Their ship was lost in the ransacked Covenant Holy City that's floating above our heads. Since the Spartan 117 and his team have killed the Prophet of Truth and captured the "Ark" the fate of the Halo Installations are in the safety of human hands, but now your mission report speaks of Flood in the Quarantine Zone? Impossible. Covenant reports confirmed the action was successful in exterminating them, how could this be Lieutenant?" the voice asked.
       "Sir, with all do respect, everyone of those things had their sights on our heads, they fit the description of the Flood, and acted just like them, what we saw was true, every marine in my boat would tell you the same story, Sir." Finn replied. "Sir, I suggest a nuclear strike on the Quarantine Zone, the walls have been analyzed and they would contain the blast from going anywhere but within their perimeter, though the blast would exterminate everything inside wall sections, along with anything inside the Library, and the structures below, the Flood were only in this area Sir, the Covenant pulled their resources to make sure of it, we could wipe them out, Sir."
       Jeremy Pearson was quiet while Finn gave them the analysis of the situation and now waited while the members of the Brass contemplated the consequences of a nuclear strike on the ring.
       "Lieutenant, how would a Pelican dropship pilot be so educated in the art of nuclear warfare? Say we trust your analysis of the situation, how soon would this strike be able to take place?" A female voice interjected.
       "I have a complicated past Ma'am, and the strike should take place as soon as possible." Finn answered.
       Very well Finn, your suggestion will be turned into an operation going down tonight at 0900 hours, after you and another one of our pilots drop the nukes, The Master Chief and his Spartans will enter Ground Zero and exterminate any surviving Flood forms." A raspy male voice ordered. "You can fly a Skyhawk fighter can you not?"
       "I can sir, and will be honored to carry out this mission." Finn replied "Good Lieutenant, get two Pelicans prepped for launch approximately fifteen minutes after your Skyhawks, the Spartans should be arriving soon, good luck Lieutenant."

Fate Ch.3
Date: 5 July 2005, 3:25 am

2553
Installation 06
Location: Quarantine Zone Alpha

       The pair of Skyhawk fighters matched each other's maneuvers, both racing towards the Library, and the Quarantine Zone.
       "Target closing by……two kilometers, get ready two-six, remove the Shiva's safeties." Finn called into his boom mike.
       "Roger that four-oh, safeties removed, prepping for drop." The other pilot replied.
       Finn looked out the Skyhawk's view port to the other jet's pilot, he was an excellent flyer, and he approached his task fearlessly.
       "Breaking off, four-oh…good luck." Two-six stated.
       "Roger that two-six, drop your payload and I'll bring up the rear." Finn answered. "Affirmative four-oh…Shiva ready, fox two!" Two-six yelled and a stream of white smoke trailed from a shaped charge with a Shiva nuclear war head. Two-six cleared out circling to confirm his hit, satisfied it was a success, activated his afterburners and headed back to his airstrip at Delta Base.
       "Fox one, fox one!" Finn called as his own Shiva left his aircraft and the warhead sped towards the Library itself. Finn leaned over to see two-six's shock wave spread across the Flood infested terrain. The wake of nuclear energy rolled up the containment walls like waves splashing upon a sea wall. His warhead hit home and a blinding light following which when it cleared the Library structure simply ceased to exist.
       "Knife two-six, this is four-oh, hits confirmed, targets destroyed two-six, excellent work." Finn said. "Delta Base, payload delivered, ETA back to base is thirteen minutes." Finn said and clicked off his com.
       "Put us down here, Petty Officer!" The Master Chief called to the pilot of the dropship. The troopship hovered near a blown out section of the containment wall, John 117, Will 043 and Ryan 031 stepped off the craft, and the next boat load of Spartans contained Fred 104 and Kelly 087 was last to step off the craft.
       "Ok Spartans, Fred, take Will and Ryan with you and set the Havoc mines and then meet here at 0945, Kelly your with me, we're going to check out ground zero for infection, then we'll call in the secondary air strike, your read me Spartans?" The Chief asked. "Sir, yes Sir!" the other four said in unison.
       "Alright, Ryan, Will grab the charges from the Pelican and meet me by that piston over there." Fred ordered. The second Pelican had been piloted by Will and had landed in the opening in the wall, that's why Sergeant Pearson and his marines were here, they had the simple task of guarding the dropship. Pearson set up a tight perimeter and had Bauer and Kemp set up fifty caliber machine guns on hastily erected defenses. Fitzgerald and Takashi sported the team's M19 SSM jackhammer rocket launchers and Pearson and three ODSTs bore standard MA5B assault rifles.
       "Kelly, sweep the West Wing, I'll scan the East, and set the charges," Kelly's acknowledgement light winked blue and she shot out ahead of him at a run. John ran the other way, deployed Lotus mines every ninety yards along with HAVOC nuclear explosives every two-hundred yards.
       John set his last HAVOC mine and sprinted back to the RV point where Kelly would be awaiting him. He had encountered two severely mangled Flood forms, which did not stand much resistance, but proved they had survived which left room for more survivors, which meant a load of hell for the Human forces. John continued to run, Kelly had beaten him there…no surprise whatsoever. Soon the two super soldiers were on the level below the others' position. John inhaled and turned the corner, almost certain of resistance, he was right, but before he could fire, Kelly and tucked, rolled and fired, her shotgun reaping casualties. John gripped the trigger of his rifle firing a controlled burst into an approaching grotesque.
       "We're clear Chief, let's move, Fred will be waiting for us." Kelly said, her shotgun's report still echoing down the narrow hall. Kelly stepped into the piston and she vanished upward, whisked away by some manner of invisible fingers. John stepped in after her, feeling static wash through his armor and he was elevated up the tube and realized what he was looking at, three marines, lying dead, their dog tags already removed his HUD labeled them as Kemp, Takashi, and Novak. Spartan 031 was stationed at one of the stationary guns, while the other two were set in a low crouch protecting two wounded Marines. Pearson injected another canister of bio foam into wound in his side with a needle shard had speared him; the shard was removed before it detonated, but it was enough to knock the battle-hardened leatherneck off his feet, which was quite a statement. Bauer was propped up against the side of the dropship one bloodied hand clutching his side while the other supported his rifle. Fitzgerald was doing the best, his injuries were several but they were minor
       John opened a private COM channel to Fred. "What happened?" he asked. "a group of Covenant Brutes were headed for the exit, and our bird for that matter, along with two attacks from the Flood these Marines held them off until we got here." Fred replied, concern flowing thickly in his raspy voice.
       "Good work Marines, I'm sorry for your men, get some body bags out here for your fallen. Ryan, pack up the guns and get them on board, Will, prep the ship Fred and Kelly, help the wounded, I'll cover our evac." Pearson helped Bauer inside the craft and sat down silently three of his teammates were going home in body bags, a fact that he was not taking lightly. He saw the last of the armored soldiers climb aboard, and the dropship fired its belly jets and accelerated away from the containment walls. "Knife two-six, this is Spartan 117, requesting secondary air strike on the Quarantine Zone, copy?" John asked through his SATCOM line integrated into his helmet.
       "……Roger that Chief strike in five, are your people out of there?" Two-six replied.
       "Affirmative two-six we're clear, hit 'em hard Lieutenant, 117 out." John answered and clicked off the SATCOM. "Will, take us home, HQ on the island, ONI is going to want an update." John said.
       "Roger that Chief, ETA is fourteen minutes." Will replied.
       The Skyhawks' engines roared over them. Again a barrage of rockets and carpet bombs littered ground zero. Thousands of secondary explosions detonated with nuclear blast, throughout the inside of the containment walls, and the ground level of the Library…mission accomplished.

* * * * *
       "Excellency, readings of high radiation, a Nuclear strike, my guess, on the ring, estimated around the Parasite's Quarantine Zone, the humans are already causing further desecration to the ring." A minor Elite reported to the Ship Master.
       The Golden clad veteran gave a subtle nod and again turned his gaze to the displays of the Ring's surface. The Human fleet looked formidable, but the only aspect that worried him was the thousands of human soldiers on the surface where glassing the planet would be heresy, he had a few hundred skilled Sangheili under his command, in theory, and he could inflict a wound in the heart of the human infestation… his hand rested on the hilt of his plasma lance. Thousands of thoughts rushed through his head, but he had made his decision.
       "Have my shuttle ready, Commander, and my men deployed to the station." The Ship Master ordered and strode from the Control platform and then towards the shuttle bay. The Elite casually stepped aboard his personal Phantom, which had been modified for his own comfort, being one of the higher ranking ship masters who held a place on the Council. Minutes later, after gliding through several kilometers of vacuum, the shuttle eased into the docking bay of the Covenant space station at the edge of the system that owned the Ring. Two dozen black clad Elites stood at rigid attention, awaiting their commanding officer. It was time to prepare the humans for the inevitable slaughter that was to come, the four standard Covenant dropship Phantoms were to engage their adaptive camouflage, infiltrate the Human blockade and proceed to the Silent Cartographer, now, if victory was found on this front, the humans' would find it much more difficult to transport reinforcements and reaction teams to the newly captured Island Fortress. Yes, the plan was a long shot, but the Sangheili were more than a match for the human 'marine regulars' that they deployed in large regiments throughout the battle front, but his special operations Elites could finish the job without a wide span of causalities. Victory was within grasp. Humanity would finally cease from squirming away form which was inevitable.

Fate Ch. 4
Date: 7 July 2005, 12:56 am

2553 Orbital MAC platform: Cairo
0400 hours



       "Sir, brief contact whispers, nothing completely stable, but whatever it is its moving fast." The Ops Officer on the MAC platform reported to his CO.
       The Lieutenant leaned over the Ensign's shoulder, typed in several commands and studied the outcomes.
       "Dropships, by my guess, Ensign, get the auto cannons heated up and target those 'whispers' and fire." The Lieutenant ordered, stood back and crossed his arms over his chest.
       "Guns heated, first salvo in three, two one— sir contacts are gone…nothing there, not even the whispers." The Ensign stated, his face contorted with confusion.
       "Alright Ensign, get a squadron of Longswords to pick up the whispers' trajectory, and follow them to wherever they're going." The Lieutenant said and starred into the Ensign's display.
       "Yes Sir, Eagle two-four and his boys are en route to the coordinates." The Ensign said and sighed. "They're here aren't they Sir?"
       "I think that's a safe bet, warm the MAC, we're going to have company for dinner, don't disappoint our guests, Ensign." The Lieutenant said and turned to Admiral Hood standing at central view screen. "Admiral, we have a problem Sir, Covenant silhouettes of cruisers and frigates at the edge of the system, regrouping for an assault Sir." The Lieutenant reported.
       "Acknowledged Lieutenant, we've had the same transmissions from our ships and the other stations, the MAC stations are heating up, and Admiral Hart and Shires are moving into the front line positions, we're ready Lieutenant, man your station, its going to be a long day." Hood said and again turned his attention to the view screens.

* * * * *

       The Ship Master silently had removed his golden dress armor and replaced it with the matte black standardized special operations armor. He placed the helm over his head and sealed the armor, activated his shields. The team's objective had changed; they would set down in the blind spot of the human surveillance, enter the cliff wall's Forerunner facilities, emerge at the small city at the centre of the island, and insert their teams into the lift that led to the Control room.
       The Phantom slowed hovered and the four Elites exited the craft, three more Phantoms eased into the drop zone, deployed their men and followed each other back to the atmosphere, Ship Master 'Ultazee already knew the near impossibilities of those pilots' survival, and accepted the consequence. The alien warriors divided and raced to the entrance of the cliff face.
       "Move! The vermin will not be pleased with this intrusion; we must make haste to the centre of the island!" Ultazee commanded and swept the hallway for human marines and proceeded after own men. A duo of Marines emerged around the corner talking and laughed, when plasma whined down the corridor and melted the wall behind them. One dove and rolled, landing in a half crouch and firing its assault rifle. The other landed on his stomach firing short bursts towards the aliens. Ultazee fired his own rifle, but at this range, the plasma was quite inaccurate. The Elite on point was riddled with a hail of 'shredder' rounds, spat up black blood and fell backward, badly mangled. But the second primed and threw a plasma grenade which fused to one of the human's helmets and detonated, killing it and wounding its partner. Ultazee strode to the wounded human, drew the marine's pistol and shot it in the head. Red blood spattered across the wall the man was leaning against. Ultazee waved his remaining soldiers forward, and peered down the next hallway, it was short and led out onto a docking platform, where a human dropship had just landed, unfortunately more humans were here, and to add insult to injury, an armored human was revealed, assault weapon raised.
       "Demon!" one Elite cursed and let loose a hail of plasma.
       Fred's shield flared as the oncoming plasma washed over him, he squeezed off two bursts and knelt behind an overturned ammunition crate.
       "Marines! Fall back! Alert the base!" Fred barked and fired twice more. His motion tracer read four hostile contacts, and another seven moving in on corridor nine, directly towards the lift to the Control Centre. Fred was pinned down, and multiple targets were braking off around him. Three had escaped and the one who had kept him under fire was bugging out. Fred stood and emptied his clip into the straggler. The Elite's personal shields cried as they disappeared and a trio of armor piercing rounds drilled through the alien's body armor and into his skin. Blood spurted in fountains of black from the wounds as the alien soldier fell forward. Fred jogged forward, pausing to crush the Elites skull with his boot and followed the three contacts.
       "Master Chief?"
       "104, what's your situation; we have Covenant Elites entering the complex." John 117 replied.
       "Roger that Chief, I am perusing three hostiles heading towards your position." Fred said.
       John's acknowledgement light winked blue and the chatter of automatic weapons fire crackled through the com.
       Ultazee tried to raise their rear guard on the communications but failed, that Sangheili was gone, and that meant that the armored human had lived. Ultazee cursed the humans' existence and continued with his two remaining warriors, the lift was close now, but the cliff's interior facilities were drawing to a close, and the Elites had to run across an open ground before reaching the lift. The door to the outside was in front of them, Ultazee paused to discard his spent rifle and drew his second, resistance was thick, at least in this sector, he wished to raise the other squadrons on his communicator, but shunned the idea, realizing it would in conclusion compromise the mission. The door slid open with a quiet 'snick'. But just as it did, a 14.2mm shell blew off the head of the first Elite, which left only two warriors left, that is, if either of them survived the run. Ultazee fired his plasma rifle blindly, hoping to pin the human snipers long enough for himself and his subordinate to find cover. Streams of golden lines from rifle fire seared around him, striking him several times. The Sangheili dove over the trench like barricade a fire team of Marines had taken cover behind and drew his sword. The ice blue lance of energy sliced through to human defenders with deadly vengeance, two of them fell without a sound when his subordinate finished the rest of them with a wash of plasma. Ultazee deactivated the lance and discarded it, while slipping a new charge into his plasma rifle. The lift was just ahead, the two alien soldiers stepped inside and around the bodies of two fallen marines. A mere seven Elites awaited him; two squadrons had been completely decimated, while these two had sustained heavy casualties.
       "What happened to your men, Commander?" Ultazee asked, anger running feverishly through his voice.
       "The armored humans, they caught us off guard and slaughtered the squadrons that had proceeded ahead of us." The Elite said.
       "By the gods…you said armored humans, as in more than one of the demon?" Ultazee asked.
       "Yes Excellency, we encountered three of them on our way here, while you mention the contact with one of them when your team was on their way?"
       "Unfortunately you are all too correct Commander, but unless we get to the Control Room now, the vermin will overwhelm what few soldiers we have left." Ultazee paused, hit the door control, and followed by a series of commands for the lift. The lift was immense, it could easily handle a Phantom and several Wraith tanks…and to add to that, the nine Elites being the only ones on the platform, made it appear even larger.
       "Excellency, in truth, even with our brothers here, who are superior to humans in small numbers, we cannot hope to assault a large battalion of them with only nine of our warriors. We need reinforcements, Excellency. With a full force of troops we can overwhelm the vermin's defenses and recapture what was meant to belong to the Covenant." The Commander stated.
       "On normal circumstances I would agree with you Commander, but reinforcing our position is ranging into the impossible, that is the reason I chose to assault the island, its lift was the only way to get close enough to the Control Centre…we on our own, yet I have a plan that proves victory can still be achieved."
       John helped the last two marines aboard the Pelican and took his seat next to Ryan and Will. Fred was running point on the hunter-killer teams searching the island, and Kelly and Troy were following the Elites down the shaft with two squads of marines. The Pelican fired its belly jets and flew out form the docking platform and then back towards the Control Centre. Their ETA was seventeen minutes…much too long, Marine forces at and around the Control Room had already been preparing for the attack, the number of hostiles were still unknown, but they were ready for anything. Fred's team had found nineteen Covenant casualties, along with twenty-two hostiles still alive and somewhere in or on the island. None of this made sense, because security reported only four Phantoms touching down, dropping their soldiers and bugging out, and to add to that, four Phantoms were taken out by a Longsword squadron just outside the atmosphere, nothing else came in or out. Which raised the question about how many soldiers had gotten into their territory, John pushed the thought aside, knocked a fresh clip against his helmet, then slid it into the receiver in his rifle, the other Marines and Spartans in the Pelican did likewise: checking sniper rifles, grenades, C4 charges, anything that would need to be working properly for their mission.
       "Admiral! Slip space rupture just above the Ring, silhouettes match a Covenant Frigate." An Ensign cried.
       "Lieutenant, I want two MAC rounds through that ship, yesterday." Hood stated coldly.
       The Covenant Frigate's intentions were suicidal, and its crew knew that, but their objective was achieved, they were close enough to deploy their soldiers, and the humans had to have known that. Several hundred drop pods ejected from the ship's belly while four or five Phantom dropships accompanied them. The Frigate didn't last long, several MAC rounds sliced through the alien metal, hitting everything in their way to the other side of the ship. The reactor was compromised, and the frigate imploded, but its shields held the blast inside, and gutted the ship. The hulk floated there, dead in space. The craft was scanned for survivors, when finding none; it was cleared off the field and thrown into orbit of a neighboring moon.
       The Pelican approached the Control Centre on a glide and set down on a docking platform a few kilometers away. A trio of marines waited for them, John's HUD tagged them as Master Sergeant AJ Blackwell, Sergeant Major Avery Johnson and Staff Sergeant Derek Rivers. The comprised squad of Spartans and Marines stepped off their dropship and towards the Sergeants.
       "Master Chief, its good your men could make it here, we have a situation," Blackwell began, "Covenant drop pods just landed on the other side of this canyon."
       "How many, Marine?" The Chief asked.
       "Their closes to two hundred Sir and with AA out of the picture for another two days, the five Phantom dropships en route to this location are going to be able to fly right in." Johnson said
       "How many Marines do we have Sergeant?" John asked.
       "Three platoons Chief, each of us lead one." Blackwell replied.
       This wasn't enough men to take on a Covenant assault wave, but John, Ryan and Will stood a chance, if they used the right tactics, but the Marines could defend the structures and the Control Room. John hastily opened a private com channel to Ryan and Will.
       "Meet me down stairs in five." John said and stepped aboard the Pelican.
       "Roger Chief, we'll be there." Ryan answered and followed Will into the structure.
       the Pelican fired its jets and pushed away from the platform, but then eased onto the surface below. John hopped off the ramp and jogged past a few Marine Sentries on full alert and took the driver seat of a Warthog. Will and Ryan emerged shortly after; each of them taking a position. The LRV sped across the sand and rounded a canyon wall then saw what lay beyond. The beach beyond was blanketed with drop pods, and Elites were emerging from each of them. John scowled beneath his mirrored visor and gunned the jeep's engine. The LRV flew over a sudden drop off and landed with a crunch as a Covenant scout was sucked under the massive tires. The 50mm chain gun roared an angry challenge and mowed down an advance team of Elites. Luckily John and his team were approaching the rear guard teams of the alien force, while the brunt of the wave was assaulting the Marines held up in the structure. The Elites must not have known what kind of mess they had gotten themselves into. Doorways, docking platforms and suspension bridges high above the surface, courtesy of the Forerunner provided perfect locations for the UNSC snipers to whittle away at the Elites from a place of refuge.
       John killed the Hog's engine and stepped out, firing a quarter of a clip into an approaching Elite, while another half went into the next. Ryan hopped off as well, his assault weapon shouldered and ready. Will slid out of the Hog, pausing to slip the charges of C4 over his shoulder and retrieved his MA2B, cut down rifle, from the anchoring points on his back. The trio of super soldiers jogged up behind a large collection of boulders and assessed the situation. John came to the same conclusion each time; they did not have enough men to take on a brunt of so many Elites in the same place. John signaled to Ryan and Will and sprinted forward, rifle raised, ready to fire, when four Skyhawk fighters soared overhead, and a barrage of carpet bombs hit the Covenant position. John stopped with a slight slide and brought his left forearm over his eyes to shield the brilliance of the ensuing inferno. The smoke and fire cleared and only several alien warriors remained alive, and they were mortally wounded.
       "Sergeant Johnson? Who ordered that air strike? I thought our support was cut off." John asked into his com.
       "Orders came directly form the Admiral, Sir." Johnson replied.
       The FLEETCOM channel crackled through his helmet's speakers and belched static. "Yes, Admiral?" John replied.
       "Master Chief, the Covenant have jumped in system, we can hold the cruisers off, but their dropships are deploying boarding parties in zero gee just above the station, Master Chief, gather what men you can and get up here." Hood ordered.
       A Pelican dropship soared in form the atmosphere, seared with plasma. "Master Chief! Admiral Hood said you needed a ride, get in, son!" the pilot roared over his boom mike. John, Ryan and Will stepped aboard. The troopship gathered itself, shut its atmospheric doors and sped up into the black.
* * * * *
       "Admiral, the Master Chief and his men are entering the platform's C-Hanger, they should be coordinating with out Marines in a few minutes." The Ops Officer reported.
       John felt the sickening lurch in stomach as the clamp seized the Pelican. Ryan hit the quick release button on his harness and floated towards the atmosphere doors. John hit his own release and floated outside. Two squads of ODSTs were already outside the station, fighting brief zero gee skirmishes with the enemy. John raised his own rifle and clenched the trigger. The normally loud rattle of the MA5B's muzzle coughed silently, as if heard from underwater. A nearby Elite caught the high velocity rounds in the back, while blobs of purple blood gushed into vacuum and floated near the alien warrior. Two more sets of silent flashes appeared to his right, his teammates focused their fire on the interlopers as well. The battle made them all feel disoriented, it was too quiet, the usual blasts of assault fire, the whine of plasma, the screams of panicking combatants….none of this was present, when a men fell, it was silent, when a grenade went off…nothing but a flash…it brought John out of sorts. The Spartan pushed the thought aside and riddled an alien with fist-sized bullet holes.
       John's SQUADCOM roared with static and slowly came to. "Marines, move back into the station and defend the launch bays from the Covenant inside, that's an order, move!" John barked and blew an Elite off the platform with the grenade launcher attached to the rifle's underbelly. John turned to see Ryan's shield flicker and die, then the eight foot tall alien leveled his rifle at the Spartan's head. Will leapt forward in slow motion, as it seemed due to the zero gee, and hit the Elite with full force. The sudden jolt caught the Elite off guard and its weapon was lost. Will landed in a half crouch firing his weapon. The Elite tried to stand but the shredder rounds tore through him like a hot knife through butter. The ODSTs were moving to slowly, pausing to take cover and fire at the enemy and checking their teammates' bodies. John considered chewing them out but that would only take more time, they needed those marines inside the station now, or every one of them was going to die. It was not a matter of the Marines being horrible combatants, only that the Elites in large numbers were overwhelming their positions. But Spartan or Marine, no difference a Phantom had just made another zero gee drop, which meant that even the Spartans' place of defense was crumbling under the weight of the attack.
       "Spartans! Fall back inside! There's too many!" John ordered and several bursts of ammunition erupted from his rifle. Two blue acknowledgement lights reluctantly blinked blue and Will and Ryan slid down into the airlocks. John fired off the last of his clip and turned the make a leap for the airlock.
       Second Lieutenant McCaughey knew she never had a chance to shake the two Seraph fighters behind her, and to add to her imminent demise, her Longsword was already spiraling out of control. The Cairo seemed to race towards her as if in a fury, and it was approaching quickly. Another plasma blast struck the single ship, finishing its engines. McCaughey screamed and brought her arm in front of her face when the surface of the station connected with the belly of the Longsword and engulfed it in flame…
       John gathered himself for the leap, but caught in his peripheral vision a Longsword fighter sliding across the deck in a ball of flame. John considered the consequences, accepted the risk, and leapt. The Spartan cleared the nose of the fighter, but it clipped him from the wing's base. Pain washed over his side and threw him into a harsh tumble, hurling him against the wall above the airlock. An Elite stepped over him with its weapon leveled with John's face. John slowly closed his eyes and everything turned to darkness…

Fate Ch.5
Date: 21 July 2005, 3:05 am

2553
Interior of the MAC platform Cairo
0527 hours

       "Will, heads up!" Ryan cried and fired a stream of high velocity rounds over the other Spartan's head. The Elite that turned the corner took a barrage of the projectiles in its massive chest, while an encore of the bullets tore apart his vulnerable throat. Outside thousands of hellfire streaks of gold and crimson raced through the vacuum, seaming to tear through space and they traveled towards their targets. The two super soldiers cautiously turned each corner, but no matter how careful they were, more Covenant soldiers always seemed to be waiting on the other side. "Firing!" Ryan called and his assault rifle let loose a volley of armor piercing rounds.
       "Where's the Chief?" Will asked as he took several snap shots at the Jackals at the end of the corridor.
       "I don't know, I thought he was behind you!" Ryan answered and slid a new magazine into his rifle with a satisfying click.

Exterior surface of the Cairo
0530 hours

       John propped his head on a fallen piece of debris, due to his collision with the wall, and opened his eyes to see the Elite standing over him seem to fall apart at a hail of shredder rounds tore it to ribbons. Two figures stood over him, one was clad in Mjolnir armor, but John's HUD didn't tag him as one of his Spartans, and the second was an ODST. The Spartan offered him a hand up. John took the armored hand and it pulled him up.
       "Master Chief, it's good to see you Sir." The anonymous Spartan stated with a crisp salute. "I'm First Sergeant Elias 014, Sir; the rest of my team is inside."
       John nodded as if understanding but behind his mirrored visor, he had no idea what was going on. Elias? He wasn't a member, even in my original squad, where did he come from? John pondered in his head.
       The airlock cycled through and the two Spartans exited. Several Marines stiffened, but then relaxed to see their allies and not more of the Covenant horde.
       "Sir, your team is back that way, holding off the covies in Commons-B, right over there," The Australian Lance Corporal pointed to a blast door and past several fallen Marines.
       John nodded and strode past the hastily erected defenses, fed a new magazine into his pistol and turned the corner. Five UNSC combatants were defending a door leading to the Command Center at the parallel side of the room. John fired a trio of 12.7mm rounds, then primed and threw a fragmentation grenade. The bullets cracked through the lead Grunt's chest plate and his breathing apparatus. The Grunt fell with a squeak and methane vented from the Grunts breathing device. Elias turned and fired a sustained burst into a Jackal pair and watched the rounds tear through their unprotected flesh. Four Spartans stood as the last of the Covenant troops fell in bloody heaps. John's HUD tagged Ryan and Will but the other two were yet again, anonymous.
       "Master Chief, Sir! It's good to see you. I'm Master Sergeant Chase 026, I see you've met Elias, and this is First Sergeant Ian 093. Ian and Chase gave crisp salutes and stood at attention.
       "At ease, Spartans, we need to get to the Control Center." John ordered and turned towards the blast doors. None of this made sense, none of these Spartans were of his team, his thoughts flashed back to a time that seemed a lifetime ago. To the words of Admiral Stanforth, he had said, "Chief Petty Officer Mendez will be departing from us to train the next group of Spartans." John silently mulled this over. Group? There are only three of them here, was there more, or was this it? John had no time for this, the Covenant where here, even though they couldn't glass the Ring where the humans had held up, they could decimate the UNSC fleet above the Ring with relative ease. Where ever these Spartans came from, if they were even half the soldiers his team was, he could use their help. The Bridge's blast doors creaked and slid open, three Naval Lieutenants stood on the opposite side of the door with their side arms raised and leveled. The lead officer relaxed and waved them in, then took a weary look around and closed the blast. Three Delta Ops marines were the only combat personnel in the immense room. Each of them wore uniform and gear separate from the ODST or marine regular, being tiger striped fatigues, and worn black armor plates. They wore SF helmets and goggles, which had been placed on the brim of the helmet until use, and carried specialized weaponry. Two carried MA7Rs, which are the step up from the 5B, with silencers and laser guided scopes, and the third carried a L85A2, a medium range cut down sniper's rifle. Camouflage paint smeared their faces, evidence from their recent ground engagements. The alien blood that smeared their armor proved their skill, and John knew they could be depended upon. An explosion rocked the deck as several of its personnel fell to the floor. An alarm shrieked and the forward display showed atmosphere venting in several areas. Hood turned to look at the Spartans.
       "Master Chief we have a problem." Hood began. "Another two dozen Covenant ships just jumped in system, Two MAC stations have been decimated, along with a decent portion of Admiral Shires' task force…we cannot win this battle, Chief, but we can get out of here." Hood stated.
       "Admiral, I—
       "Chief, half of the fleet is jumping back to Earth, a few regiments of marines and several Spartans have been fighting on the surface for some time, and a UNSC prowler has reported that the planet has not been glassed, but is being inhabited by the Covenant, the prowler also reported that the Covenant Fleet has been severely reduced in our absence, therefore most of our ships are going on the offensive to the Earth front…Chief I'm sorry, the Brass in all its wisdom has assigned your team and 026's team to the surface for a stand long enough for the Fleet to take back Earth." Hood said regretfully. "It's a waste of the best soldiers I've ever had the pleasure to serve with, I hate to give this order Chief, I'm sorry."
       John didn't hesitate. "Affirmative Sir, understood." John saluted along with the other Spartans on the deck.
       Hood nodded and turned to the view screen. "The platforms will stay in place and hold off the Covenant until you and your team are ground side…" Hood said, not turning away from the displays. "Dismissed."
       John saluted, spun on his heel and strode towards the elevator to the drop craft. The six super soldiers stepped aboard and the lift dropped four levels. Twenty drop craft slots dominated the large hanger. The stubby drop craft was the Pelican's predecessor, though not out of date. The drop craft were the step above a lifeboat, while the drop craft were usually occupied by eight soldiers and held a M41 LRV in the center. The standard craft opened in three directions, and when open looked vaguely skeletal. John gripped the frame of the craft, satisfied that it would safely escort them to the surface, waved his men aboard. The Spartans filed in and took their seats in the craft as the pilot climbed aboard and into the small cockpit. Two more Spartans finally arrived; John's HUD tagged them as the last of Chase 026's team. Malcolm 081 and Aaron 053 climbed aboard and took their seats. The bay doors of the drop craft gave a creak and closed with a groan of titanium-A and the interior of the craft was pitch black. "Stand by, detach!" the pilot called, "good luck Cairo."
       The plate of armor beneath the craft lowered into a sort of airlock, gave a hiss of decompression and a snap. The plate slid away and sickening free fall invaded everyone's stomachs'. Tiny strobes of yellow lights flickered to life and dimly lit the craft. Light gleamed off the LRV's surface and back towards the wall. Their stomachs settled as the pilot regained control of the craft and sent it soaring towards the Ring.
       The Delta Ops marines took one last look around the Bridge, took several seconds to assist several wounded naval personnel to reload their assault rifles and stepped aboard the lift down to the drop bay. The lift creaked to a stop and as several drop craft jettisoned from their slots. Sergeant Samuel Easley was the name of the lead Delta Ops soldier, and his team consisted of Corporal David Brookes and Corporal Brandon Vaughn. Sam secured his rifle to the anchoring points below his seat and buckled his harness around his chest. The other two marines were buckled in already, with their gear secured. Several marines filed into the craft but a bone shattering explosion rocked the deck. The airlock doors broke away and atmosphere vented. Sam only had time to grab two Marines by their combat harnesses and glimpse the pilot leap inside the craft as its atmospheric doors closed. Besides the two Marines buckled in, the two Easley had held on to, the Delta Ops and the pilot, everyone else in the hanger bay was sucked out into the vacuum. The pilot scrambled into his seat and released the clamps that held the ship to the station, the craft plummeted from the station as the Cairo was rippled with red orange explosions and imploded, just before the interior of the craft went black and it fell to towards the surface of the Ring. The craft broke atmosphere and a jolt of turbulence exploded through the craft and everyone aboard lost consciousness.

Sergeant Easley blinked away the black clouding at the corners of his vision and came back to reality. He was lying half buried in the sand of a beachhead, not far from the drop craft's skeletal form. His teammates lay prone around him, along with the four marines. Sam slowly pulled himself to his feet. He was grateful to see that LRV had survived the landing, but he could not say the same for the pilot. The marines rose to their feet, all but one, who had his midsection blow apart by something Sam, had no clue. He looked under the seat he had and was relived to see his rifle was still in place. He retrieved a magazine from his belt and slid it into the receiver. His men were on their feet soon after, dragging out the titanium barricades included in the craft and set up a perimeter with the marines. The Warthog's anchoring clamps disengaged and the LRV rolled slightly down the ramp. After a quick reconnaissance of the island the Marines realized their were two Covenant squadrons that had been recently dispatched to the island. The land mass sported a large signal outpost in the center, but other than an odd tree or bush, no other structure. Several of the Jackal sniper towers rose from the ground and outlines of Covenant Elites dotted the walls of the outpost. Sam and the other marine slid down from the rock and into the concealed landing zone. The landing craft had provided a fair amount of cover, and where it did not, the marines had set the titanium barricades in its place. The marines included PFC. Mackenzie and Dominic and Lance Corporal Hawkins; all of which had been a help to Samuel's men, and he was sure sooner or later he would need them.
       An hour had passed when a duo of Covenant Grunts rounded the corner into the crash site, with their plasma rifle lazily slung over their shoulders. When seeing the large drop craft both of them jumped, scrambling to bring their rifles to bear. Mackenzie stood up unaware, realized the threat and knew he had no time to reach his rifle, which was lying on the barricade several meters away. Just as the Grunts leveled their rifles they fell pray to Brookes and Vaughn, who dispatched them with iron hard blows to the skull with their rifles. Sam emerged shortly there after, his L85A2 resting on his shoulder. Two Elite corpses lay behind them.
       "Marines! Mount up, we're moving out!" Easley called and pulled himself into the passenger seat of the LRV. The other two Deltas hopped aboard along with Hawkins, while Sam had ordered Dominic and Mackenzie to stay and hold the area. Hawkins regretfully stepped aboard the M41, reluctantly to leave the last of his squad behind. The LRV roared and sped over the sand straight towards the outpost. Jackals snipers in their towers had no time to react with volleys of 50mm bullets shredding through their exposed bodies. Four arrogant Elites had taken positions to stop the light reconnaissance vehicle…but were transformed into speed bumps by the LRV's massive tires. Brookes hit the brakes and the M41 skidded to a stop. The marines didn't wait around, Easley and Hawkins cut into the Covenant position on one side of the relic while Brookes and Vaughn took the other. If the outpost had been manned by the Covenant's Elites, it would have taken hours to free from their grasp, but being made up of mainly Grunts and Jackals, Easley had assumed most of the field officers had been decimated by Brookes' driving. Easley fired off a quick succession of 9.82mm rounds from his rifle and a trio of unsuspecting Jackals flinched as the impacts of the armor piercing rounds dove through their flesh. Vaughn and Brookes had cleared their side of the platform and dropped into its lower level. This level however, was occupied by three platinum clad Elites, which were fired upon with a hail of armor piercing rounds. One Elite staggered and fell into a shallow puddle of thick purple liquid that was his entrails. The remaining duo returned fire. Ice blue laces of plasma raced towards the Deltas as they dived into a small nook in the wall. The aliens approached and leveled their rifles. They paused, curiously and as if in slow motion their breast plates blossomed open like a purple flower…even through the pedals were internal organs. Hawkins stood in a half crouch at the edge of the level above and Easley with his rifle at his shoulder. Sam dropped through into the hole with the rest of his squad while Hawkins stood above, watching out for more Covenant. The three delta force marines stood in a rough triangle formation, slowly approaching the panel which the Elites were so interested. Easley propped his rifle under his arm and let go with his other hand and stretched outwards towards the panel. It was holographic, yet solid, and Sam's hand met resistance. The room shook as Sam's hand shoved the button further into the panel. Circles of blue lights garrisoned at the corners of the room. The high, thin half triangular tower shuddered slighted, groaned as the ancient metal reacted to something, gave a roar of fusion and glowed with blue light. Hawkins eyed the tower then back towards the Deltas. Easley disappointedly began to climb back towards the gap to the next level when the entire chamber was filled with blinding white light, and then with an ice blue flash. Hawkins lowered his hand from his eyes and looked down into the chamber. Easley and his men were gone, not dead but gone, no carbonized bone, blood or bodies. Hawkins swallowed his fear and slowly turned to the Hog. He was half way between shock and just plain angry. Their best chance of survival had just been zapped by some ancient alien piece of crap, he paused to kick one of the over religious Elites in the teeth before heading to the LRV. The marine climbed into the M41 and gunned the engine; the tires spat up dirt and sped towards the beach. The island was rather small all things considered. The LRV rolled to a stop at one of the Covenant sniper towers. Hawkins stepped in a a beam of gravity swept him up onto the platform. His own assault rifle had had a scope mounted on it, but diving for cover from a plasma grenade on the Cairo had mortally wounded the device. The Lance Corporal hefted the fallen beam rifle and looked through the scope. By now a thick pillar of black smoke had risen from the humans' crash site, and to his horror he realized a Phantom touching down very near to the smoke. Hawkins jumped over the side of the tower without thought and landed in a heap in the sand below, quickly came to his feet and jumped inside the warthog. His foot landed on the gas the again the LRV sped away from the alien structures.
       "Dominic! Another one comin' left!" Mackenzie warned as his rifle thundered over Dominic's head. The Jackals wouldn't stop coming, and there was only a few Elites, which Dominic had accidentally dispatched when he threw a grenade at a Grunt, which sprayed the field commanders with a lethal wave of shrapnel. The two PFCs' rifles chattered as round after round entered and left the chamber, peppering the rocks and aliens with fist sized bullet holes. They had been fairing surprisingly well until a dark blue tank waddled into the canyon. "Oh, great! Another freakin' walking tank!" Mackenzie called. "At least there's only one!" Dominic answered, just before the next behemoth waddled around the corner, a, orb of green energy grouping at the edge of the creatures rifle. "You just had to open your mouth didn't you?!" Mackenzie cried as he quickly switched his ammunition to shredder rounds. Dominic stood up and fired the grenade launcher mounted on his rifle. The shaped round detonated just under the Hunters shield and caused the beast to falter a step back, but was far from out. Both marines clenched their triggers. The shredder rounds pinged off the massive shields, and only dented the mirroring blue body armor. For the thousandth time, Dominic wished Ortega; their team's sniper was still alive…but in this case, he'd even take their loud mouthed platoon sergeant. Too bad the sarge, Ortega and the rest of his squad had been sucked out into the vacuum as the Cairo was destroyed. The Hunters approached, curiously not firing their fuel rod cannons. Dominic primed two fragmentation grenades and tossed them under the Hunters' tree trunk-like legs. The pillar of shrapnel and flame engulfed the nearest Hunter and the alien went down wit a thud. While leaving its extremely pissed off partner to tear the humans apart, which is precisely what he planned on doing…if a LRV M41 and flattened him from behind. Hawkins had already dismounted and fired sustained burst into the straggling Jackals and head towards the exhausted Dominic and Mackenzie.
       "Sir, it's good to see you, we couldn't hold out much longer, where are the Delta guys?" Mackenzie asked.
       "They're gone." Hawkins replied flatly. Dominic opened his mouth the say something, but seeing the icy look on the Corporal's face he decided against it. Mackenzie retrieved a fallen magazine that still contained thirty rounds; he knocked it against his helmet several times to free it off dirt and sand and slid it into the rifle's receiver. The Marines were quiet for the most part, salvaging alien weaponry, scouring the area for ammunition for their MA5Bs and trying to repair the drop craft's radio. After two hours or sparking wires and roaring static, they finally tapped into the UNSC E-band.
       "This is Julian two-four to any UNSC personnel," Hawkins rasped. "We are stranded at grid thirty three by thirteen, we need immediate evacuation, Covenant resistance is getting stiff, and we're running dry on ammo, does anyone read me? Over."        The piece in Hawkins ear hissed with static followed by a male response. "Julian two-four this is Chalk four, its good to see you guys made it, our bird isn't far off, ETA to your position is ten." More static belched from the transmitter. Hawkins slumped back into the ravaged seat in the cockpit of the drop craft. The pilot and Ortega's bodies lay neatly outside, but the lieutenant's blood still flecked the control board. Hawkins slung his rifle over his shoulder and hopped down into the troop bay of the craft. The LRV was again parked inside, while Dominic and Mackenzie sat outside, leaning lazily at the titanium barriers. The roar of a UNSC Pelican dropship's engines filled the area near them as the bulky craft slowly sat down several meters into the island. Hawkins slowly brought his rifle to bear and signaled for the two PFCs behind him to follow. The small canyon went on for about fifty yards when it opened into a grassy clearing, spotted with several fir trees, a gigantic gray hulk lay in the centre on the clearing, with the word MARINES scrawled across its tail. The pelican was the most pleasing thing the trio of humans could have wished for at the moment, along with a fire team of Marines which was tagged and Chalk four. Only two of the marines were laden with full body armor, while a majority was them wore the brimmed hat's snipers favored, or bandana wrapped around their skulls. Their was five of them, Staff Sergeant Adrian Jones was the forward marine, a dull olive bandana tied about the top of his head, hiding his shorn brown hair. The others had set a loose perimeter before Hawkins had a chance to glance over their names. Jones shook his hand as he approached and helped him aboard the dropship, past the dropship's door gunner. One by one the rest of Jones' team filed into the Pelican and it lifted off the ground with a roar and left the small island.

The icy blue light surrounded Sam and his men as something extraordinarily cold lanced through him the seemed to slowly dissect him from the inside and place him back together. This painful process repeated several times until blinding gold light filled his vision. He hit the ground with a thud and slowly rose to his feet, his rifle unsteadily raised. Vaughn and Brookes dropped in behind him, showing similar symptoms Sam had felt moments ago. The golden flash cleared from their vision and left them on an icy metal floor. Frost had gathered around the corners of the platform and clusters of icicles surrounded the edges. The marines found themselves inside of a Forerunner fortress complex, a few hundred miles from any of the human bases of operation. Sam strode to the low wall at the edge of the floor. Then he realized what we was standing on: a high wall, with several battlements placed along the expanse. Only meters to his right stood an abandoned thirty caliber stationary turret. Humans had made a stand at this facility after all. Sam surveyed the white blanket of snow, with turned out to be dotted with violet clad Elites patrolling the area, while Sam sighted the outline of another wall estimated to be about four hundred meters away. Metal structures were present along the surface, distinguished by the pure white of the snow around them. A small tower rose above the rest on them, only a dozen or so yards away, four Elites clustered around it. Sam curiously took in everything thing else outside, which included several of the troublesome "Ghosts" the Covenant's rapid assault and reconnaissance vehicles and a stout pair of Hunters, located near the icy wall of the canyon. Brookes and Vaughn patrolled behind the walls, finding a landing platform that harbored a Banshee, two LRV M41 Warthogs, and an armory, which contained mostly plasma weaponry, but some UNSC contraband. "The Marines must have only pulled out a few hours ago, they left a lot." Vaughn stated clutching a bandolier of high velocity magazines for his rifle. Brookes had busied himself with an immense locked door at the end on the cave-like fortress. Spots of red blood flecked the doors surface, while bullet casing carpeted the area around it. "I dunno what happened here, Sarge…there was a battle all right but where are the Cov—" Brookes began but was cut off by a sonic boom behind them. Sam spun on his heel and ran to the edge of the wall. Another drop craft had crashed in the center of the snowy valley. The purple outlines of the Elites hastily surrounded the craft and readied for an attack. The three titanium doors flew open to leave the drop craft a skeletal hulk. Human warriors clad in iridescent green MJOLNIR armor flowed from the hatches. There was eight of them, eight . A single Spartan had killed hundreds of Covenant soldiers, while eight of them just plain annihilated the Covenant reaction force. Another group of the armor-clad warriors burst from the other wall, tearing through the Covenant defenses.
       John emptied the last of his clip into the final Elite, which keeled over, clutching its escaping organs. Chase, Ian, Malcolm, Ryan, Elias, and Will were fine, though Aaron, one of Chase's men, had recently fallen victim to a plasma grenade, but not before he threw himself into the Covenant front line. John turned to see explosions ripple through the ramps doors on the nearby wall. It fell with a crash and Fred, Kelly and Troy emerged, firing rapidly at the rear lines of the Covenant. After a mere three minutes of skirmishing, the valley was stained with alien blood, and the Spartans owned the real estate. Sam gaped at the warriors, while even he and his men would've taken at least an hour to decimate a Covenant platoon. Just then Brookes peeped up. "Got it!" he said cheerfully as the metal plates of the Forerunner blast door. Two lifeless marines tumbled out and the third gave a shortened yelp of fear. Brookes' pistol was already leveled with the man's head. He was Private of the Marine Corps, though the fact that his squad was scattered dead throughout the room gave him a small excuse for his uneasiness. Brookes lowered his pistol and stood sighing. "We're clear Sarge, we got wounded." The Delta began to turn when a lance of green plasma seared through his shoulder and threw him to his knees. The private swung around clenched his trigger firing at full automatic. The rounds pinged harmlessly off the walls until his magazine went dry. Vaughn primed a grenade and tossed it inside, grabbing the marine by the collar and pulling him outside and closed the door. Vaughn felt the ripple of the explosion and watched through the small window and purple blood spattered across it. Brookes remained on his knees, holding his rifle in one hand while the other clutched his shoulder, which welled dark red blood. Easley ran to him, keeping his eyes on the door.
       "Brookes? Brookes are you alright?" Vaughn asked. Brookes looked up at him slightly annoyed while slinging his pack and carefully extracting his field med kit, a strong quiver in his hand. Sam took the bio foam injector from his housing and filled Brookes with the anti-infection formula. Sam coolly cleaned the wound and set a temporary dressing over the marine's shoulder. Sam turned to the newcomer. "Who are you and what happened in there?" Easley asked impatiently. The marine gave a short sob but snuffed and brought himself together. "Private Lee, s-Sir, my whole squad, was patrolling the hatch, just after the dropship had picked the last of second squad's men. A few of those commandos got past the w-wall, and killed Sergeant Boxen…and his men. Corporal Darlington and the six of us fell back when a few of those invisible guys came in for the kill…something made them start to leave…when you guys opened the door…I-I –I don't know anything thing else Sir, there was nothing I could d-do, I'm sorry about your man…" the marine broke down again, recalling the thought of his squad being killed before his eyes, and asking himself why he was allowed to live. The Private began to curl himself into a ball when Vaughn reached down and tugged him to his feet. Tear streaked down his face and cut through the frost that had gathered on his cheeks. Sam turned falling backward, his L85A2 up and ready, only to face three armor clad Spartans striding towards them. Relief coursed thickly through them as the super soldiers helped them to their feet and escorted them to the dropship which was settled in the center of the icy valley, they had escaped death once more, only to face it on another front.

Fate Ch.6
Date: 21 July 2005, 11:39 pm

-Author's Note:
I think it is about time that the Army was brought into Halo, being that they've played such an important role in our History, it would be wrong to give them no credit, plus the 2nd Rangers and Delta Force are freaking awesome so yeah, Enjoy.
-End Note

       The year is 2553; three weeks after the SPARTAN IIs went groundside. Multiple human controlled bases of operation have been captured by Covenant forces. The Orbital MAC guns have been decimated, along with the Human ships in orbit. Two of the three human ships which went groundside have bugged out, and the only surviving cruiser has been stationed at the recently christened Alpha Base, which is located on a large island sheltering the Construct's map room. As for the ten Spartan super soldiers…they seldom were working together. Each one of them was assigned their own platoon of a comprised group of Marine regulars, Delta Force Sergeants and ODSTs. This arrangement of troop deployment had worked successfully until the Covenant under the leadership of a Ship Master 'Ultazee captured the Control Room. Of the six Human bases, only three remained, but several outposts remained scattered throughout the Ring. The canyon concealed Theta Base had proved easily defendable, with a small city blossoming inside, and titanium-A gates at the only entrance. Theta Base had also proved a valuable airfield and troop deployment center. Bristling with 50mm auto cannons and G39 anti air guns, with was probably the most valuable position under the Marines' ownership. Though help came through at last, soon the Marine Corps were joined not only by the Spartans and Delta Force but the legendary 2nd Rangers, whose reputations stretched back more than five centuries. But resistance was becoming futile, while the Earth campaign was favoring the UNSC, the Halo Defensive was failing…the skies had become thick with the violet hulls of the Covenant's cruisers, and the fields carpeted with the rainbow of colors of Covenant armor marching to the Human strongholds. But the leadership of General Harper held strong, and the Covenant armada was held at bay…for now. Another Human Covenant skirmish was well under way at the very temple where Master Chief John 117 was dispatched the Prophet of Regret. The Temple was Human held, one of the outposts, but not an organized base of operations. And here is where the war will be continued.

       "Hernandez! If you don't get your act together now I can assure you that you will be lying right next to him! He's gone, suck it up, you can't control who lives or dies son, that's the price a Corporal pays! Now reload that rifle and watch that door! If any one of those alien freak shows walks through this entry way, you give him two in the chest and one in the head, hoo'ah? Captain Steele ordered to the Ranger who had just watched his friend take a flurry of ice purple needles just before the door slid shut.
       "I-I'm s-still in the fight s-Sir, I can do this." The Corporal said trembling. "Hoo-ah." The man said and carefully shoved the fresh magazine into the rifle's receiver.
       These men were Army, unlike the Marines that they had fought along side for so long. Captain Steele was a six foot tall battle hardened veteran of the Army, his cold ambition when on the field was known by all the Rangers in his command, his Texas accent came straight from Earth itself and his determination the same. Sergeant Eversmann and Sergeant Booker were his NCOs while four Deltas were under the command of Master Sergeant Steven Sanderson. Delta Force was known for their uncanny skill and step up weaponry from the standard MA5Bs and BR55s, bearing M4A1s and MA7Rs.
       "Sarg'nt Booker! We got hostiles in the plaza! Sanderson called, rifle chattering. Booker turned firing his pistol form his elevated position. The Grunt Demolitions squad which had blown their way into the square, was cut down in a matter of seconds, but the Elites and Jackals behind them proved a difficult kill. But again and again the wakes of offensive were cut down by the skill of the Human Military.
       "Hang in there, Rangers! Pelicans are en route!" Steele called over the PLATOONCOM. The dropships were usually reserved for the Marines and Naval personnel, while the Army favored the T29 Blackhawk, having very little relation to its centuries old predecessor, used by the now non existent United States Military, even though the US had the largest contribution to the UNSC's Military Branch. The Pelicans streamed to the landing platform, three of them, picking up their maximum occupancy and bugged out. That left Steele, Eversmann, nineteen Rangers and Sanderson and his men. It would be forty five minutes before the Pelicans came back. Slurs about the Navy Pilots traveled quickly around the Temple of frustrated soldiers while they repelled yet another Covenant assault, even though every last one of the Rangers trusted the pilots with their lives and held them in highest regard.
       "Eversmann! Where's Grimes?" Booker called over his shoulder while firing another volley from his newly acquired MA5B.
       Eversmann ducked behind the fallen bridge piece that sheltered his men's position. He looked over his Rangers, craning his neck out to see down the line of them. Grimes was not there. He turned to look the platoon's second position, neither was he there. "Twobles! Where's Grimes?" Eversmann yelled over the bursts of assault fire around him to the one of the platoon's support gunners. Twobles shock his head and shrugged, turning back to his M243 SAW gun with roared with a barrage of high velocity rounds exiting the massive weapon's chamber. Grimes popped up from the line in front of the platoon and hurtled over the barrier landing in a heap beside Eversmann, out of breath an heaving for air. Grimes was a good guy, not to be mistaken, but he had little experience on the field, but he had it together when the team needed him.
       "Grimes! Report to Sergeant Booker now, and go quick, there's a lot of them!" Eversmann screamed, even though Grimes was well within earshot, the battle was getting loud.
       "Hoo-ah!" Grimes replied and gathered his fallen rifle. Eversmann watched him for a moment, then turned back and fired several single shots.
       "Grenades!" Sanderson ordered to the soldiers close by. Each one of them lowered their rifles, primed their fragmentation explosives, cocked back their arms and hurled the tennis ball sized grenades. The wave of grenades bounced into the entrance of the temple, which was blanketed with the Covenant militants. Seven loud whops resonated through the Temple. Covenant soldiers were tossed in each direction like rag dolls, while the survivors were cut down by well placed sheets of ammunition laid out by the support gunners.
       "Captain Steele, Sir! Dropships are here, the Marines up there are ready for us, we should move!" Grimes called after running an errand for Booker.
       "Affirmative! Rangers, we're buggin' out, move it!" Steele bellowed. Sanderson pulled several soldiers by the collar and tossed them towards the door, he himself covering them from behind, M4 blazing. Eversmann tapped each of his men on the should as they ran past him, counting quickly. Everyone. He could see Sanderson and the other Deltas one story up, firing at the Covenant behind him. Everything seemed to be going slower, like trying to run through the water that the ocean pulled against you, while all you cared about was getting to the sand, finding each step harder to bring your foot out of the current. Plasma whined by his head, plasma grenades detonated behind him. He felt white hot pain lance through his back and out his chest…so this was his fate, dying after protecting the men he commanded, it was an excellent heroic death, though Eversmann had never known himself to be a hero. Hundreds of thoughts identical to these flew through his mind, while he fell to his knees, opened his mouth and let the crimson blood pour out, his helmet slid back, and he slumped forward to the cold metal floor, unable to reach the sand he had ran for. He heard Sanderson cry to him, urging him to get up, but it was a watery voice, as if from miles away, blackness gathered at the corners of his open eyes, and soon prevailed over the light. Sanderson cast a mournful look to the fallen soldier, turned, and ran back for him. Plasma melted everything around him, his Deltas still on the platform above, firing madly. Sanderson hoisted the soldiers body over his shoulder and trudged up the steep ramp, his men closing around him, firing still. The doorway grew ever nearer and finally stepped outside. Only one Pelican remained, a Sergeant Adrian Jones of the Marine Corps awaiting them with a small fire team of Marines. Sanderson jogged to the craft, allowed the Marines to cut down the resistance behind them, and slid into his seat with his men and the Marines. The Pelican lifted off and carried the survivors back to the safety of Human held territories.

-Author's Note:
I know this chapter is a great deal shorter than the previous, but I needed to introduce more of the backgrounds before I have the time to do more brainstorming to come up with another storyline, so wait around, and I'll be posting again soon
-End Note

Fate Ch.7
Date: 30 July 2005, 4:45 am

Fourteen hours later
Brass HQ: Alpha Base

       "This is unacceptable!" The Colonel roared standing from his place at the table inside the Brass's HQ concealed on the island of Alpha Base. "Another outpost taken by the enemy? What were your men doing Captain? Sleeping?"
       Steele looked up from the floor and glared at Ackerson, yet he did not respond for another few seconds. "I lost men in that engagement, with all due respect Sir, show respect for the men who died to protect a coward such as you." Steele replied with icy cool.
       "I'd have you court-martialed Captain if you were not considered an asset by my colleagues!" Ackerson shot back.
       "Bring yourself under control, Colonel, as of now." General Harper ordered, ignoring the fact the Captain too was out of line. Ackerson turned to glare at Harper but an MP behind him set a forceful hand on his shoulder and sat him down.
       "Do to the tragic loss of Admiral Hood and his men, we're left to the strength of the Military to keep Humanity alive, as for you Colonel, we need your Shock Troopers, but I can promise you, I will give the command of your battalions to Captain Heim if you do not start showing respect for your comrades in arms." Harper stated coldly. Ackerson continued to glare at Harper but gave a reluctant nod that was barely noticeable. Steele stood without moving, hands clasped behind the small of his back, he legs slightly spread apart.
       "I think your debriefing is complete now, Captain, you may go, and I'm sorry for the loss of your men." Harper said and Steele acknowledged him, saluted and strode out the door. Once the man had left Harper began again. "Gentlemen, I have excellent news for the UNSC…the Earth Campaign is in its final phase…but Colonel Darling informed me that they will need a small amount of time…Gentlemen my point is that we will not be leaving this Ring. The Spartacus will be transporting the majority of our Marines back to Earth…while I, and the volunteers that have taken a step forward, will arm and detonate a NOVA bomb inside this facility, destroying the Ring and the Covenant Fleet with it…" Harper drawled. Ackerson stood and strode for the door, a tremble with each foot fall. Two Marines side stepped across the doors and blocked his exit. He tried to push through but both of them drew their pistols. Ackerson slowly stepped back, his palms out towards them. "Sit down Colonel, as to recent reports, I have seen that you've volunteered for the defense of this base while the NOVA is set to go off. Ackerson's face turned to pure horror as he ran his hands through his hair. The man was a coward and nothing more, his path to being an officer was immoral and full of deceit, while his true colors rose unmistakably to the surface of his face. Ackerson's rage was unmistakable, his hand trembled as he reached for his pistol, but before he could act the MPs grasped his upper arms and dragged him out of the room. Ackerson cursed and sneered, and was thrown into his own office, two watchful Marines standing guard.
       John strode into the ONI conference room, only pausing to straighten a few unnoticeable wrinkles in his seldom worn dress uniform.
       "Ackerson needs to stifle his bigotry for the other branches of the Military sometime soon, he needs to realize that the ODSTs and the Marines are too few to be the backbone force of our ground troops, and that means pulling Army from the colonies that hold no more strategic value to the UNSC, but since he has proved his cowardice in the face of battle, and his reluctance to accept unity with our own soldiers…Captain Heim, you have command of his battalions, and for now, Ackerson will not be considered an officer of the UNSC — Master Chief, its good to see you again, son." Harper informed his fellow tacticians while John had taken his position at the centre of the room. "Here's the NCO of our 'volunteers' gentlemen, Master Chief?"
       "John's mouth grew tighter and barked, "General, Sir. My Spartans will be arriving within the hour Sir." John drew his breath. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"
       "Granted Chief, go on."
       "Sir, I believe my team and I can deal with the Covenant fleet in orbit without the loss of more valuable officers…but I cannot promise the survival of myself and my team, although, I believe Spartan 026 and his men would be capable of escorting you and your staff to the Spartacus."
       "Highly unlikely 117, I refuse to leave without my men, but out of curiosity, tell me your plan." Harper replied.
       John began to chew his tongue for a moment, and then cleared his throat. "Sir, my team and I would infiltrate the Covenant CP, only a few clicks from here, find means of transportation to exit the atmosphere, and board the Covenant Cruiser known as the God's Wrath. After the Cruiser is under our control, we would kill as many of the enemy in orbit as we could, then jump from the system just before we are destroyed, rendering ourselves doomed, but successfully leading brunt of the Covenant force away from Halo, and buys enough time for the UNSC fleet to arrive to escort you and your Marines back to Earth."
       Harper leaned slightly back in his chair, and brought the tips of his fingers together and silently mulled over his strategic options. Captain Heim stood. "General Harper, Sir, I volunteer for the Master Chief's mission, Sir." Captain Foley stood as well. "Sir, I volunteer for the Master Chief's mission, Sir." Harper beamed at the Spartan and the two standing officers.
       "Permission for this mission would be granted Chief. But there's just one flaw…there is no UNSC fleet coming to our rescue, the Spartacus will be jumping in a few hours, along with the Command shuttles from all over the rest of the Ring, since the NOVA is set to go off in four hours form now. But if you believe you can cause more damage to the fleet from inside the vessels, you have my permission to do so, but no matter, I am staying here with my staff to make certain that all goes as planned on the surface, hopefully, once Theta Base bugs out, the Covenant will close on this position."
       "I understand, Sir, I would be happy to defend Alpha base to the end, Sir." John replied.
       "What are you talking about, Chief? Your team's infiltration of the enemy fleet would throw the Covenant's operations off, while the Marines cause havoc on the ground and in orbit, but if you don't mind, I'm going to modify the mission template slightly." Harper began. "Captains Foley and Heim, will brake off from the Spartacus at the last possible moment, take their platoons straight into the Covenant Cruiser, where they will split up and capture both Engineering and the Bridge. But the Weapons Control Room is usually the most secure; therefore, the Spartans will capture it just before proceeding with the mission. Now, the only way to effectively capture the Cruiser with as little contact as possible, is to use previous tactics, being that sealing all corridors that do not pertain to the mission, and also to impede the Covenant's assault waves from reaching the launch bays which Folly and Heim will capture. I will leave it up to you Master Chief rather to search the detention centre or capture the Communication Control, that will e decided by the status of your mission, if all is going well and there is little resistance, I would strongly suggest the Detention Block…but with the likely occurrence of stiff resistance and high risk objectives, the Communications Control Room would be a shattering wound to the crew inside the ship, from there on…you will proceed with the mission with the objective marked as 'whateverittakes' to survive and inflict as many kills as you can…" Harper sighed deeply and stacked a pile of papers neatly. "Dismissed, Master Chief. Heim, Folly- select your men and then get to the Pelicans."

       John pondered the General's order to do whatever it takes to survive, that wasn't in his mission statement, though he would be happy to have a successful mission with a surviving force of Spartans and Marines. But it didn't sit right with him that another high ranking officer would die for the completion of a mission, first Admiral Whitcomb, and now General Harper. John shoved the thought away and shed his dress uniform and began to assemble the MJOLNIR armor around his body. The helmet dropped over his head and face and the HUD slowly came to life, along with his shields. John hefted the Marine battle harness and slipped clicked the belt about his waist, and donned another belt of extra magazines across his chest. He quickly armed fifteen of the M9 HE-DP fragmentation grenades and placed them around the rings of his belt and another harness around his left thigh. John quickly checked his encumbrance, it read normal…for a Spartan anyway. John scanned the armory trays in front of him. Mostly the standard assault rifles and BR-55s, but occasionally came across the increasingly rare M4A1s or the Viper Assault Rifle. John settled on the M4, and slung the carbine over his shoulder, quickly took his fill of the 'banana' style magazines. He buckled a holstered M6D at his left pectoral, making use of the adhesive he had acquired from a crate near the entrance of the armory. Satisfied that this would be enough to hold the Covenant Elites and Brutes for a sufficient amount of time, he strode out of the armory, as if he wasn't carrying kilos and kilos of gear. The other Spartans in the bay wear prepared likewise, a dozen grenades, Delta Force weaponry, excess gear for extra ammunition and demolitions, they weren't messing around here and by the look of the squad, they definitely not worried about making a lot of noise. John's expression was grim, but was quickly covered when the even more intimidating MJOLNIR helmet dropped over his head. Cortana's cool presence surged through his mind. Kelly, Troy, Ryan, Fred, Will and Linda…the only surviving Spartans from his original squad, were finally entering their final hour. Linda was the only one who had not been carrying grenades, two claymores and a M6D pistol, to add with her weapon of choice, the S2AM sniper's rifle. John inhaled deeply, keyed the SQUADCOM and barked, "Dropship Spartans! ASAP!"

Boarding the Spartacus
Countdown timer to first objective:
00:43:18
       "Move it, Marines! Go, go, go!" Platoon Sergeant Moody bellowed as he packed his squad into Pelican 403. Under Captain Folly's command was a full platoon of Marines, each squad led by one of the platoon Sergeants, including: Moody, Jones, Mack, Blackwell and Pearson. "Clancy, MOVE, we'll get ammo on the ship! Hawkins, get Dominic and Mackenzie over here now, and find me a support gunner." Moody stated as he pulled Hawkins aside. "Yes Sir, Sergeant!" Lance Corporal Hawkins replied and he shoved the two PFCs onto the ship and climbed aboard himself. "Kloves! Grab the SAW!" Hawkins cried over the roar of the engines. Kloves gave a thumbs up and hefted the support gun. Caser and Kloves climbed into the craft next. Finally Riley climbed aboard, cradling a crate of C4 and grenades. "Everybody grab grenades, Hawkins, dog the C4, PILOT! HIT IT!" Moody called into the cockpit. Five of the UNSC dropships elevated and soared out to the Spartacus where Captain Folly and the ODSTs would be waiting for them. Both the Marines and the ODSTs awaited their fate unflinchingly. Moody locked his magazine of 12.7mm rounds into his MA5B. The Marines assembled their gear and pull it on about themselves, arming grenades, checking safeties and testing the video recordings in their helmets.
       The Spartacus grew in front of the five dropships as they accelerated into the launch bays. Most of the Pelicans only stopped to stalk up with ammunition; Foley stepped aboard 403, two black bars signifying captain gleaming on his chest in the center of his breast plate. He wasn't as old as the rest of the higher ranking officers, but his tactics and coolness in battle was not to be questioned, his losses were minimal and he was successful in most of the missions he accepted. The captain slapped a fresh magazine into his MA2B and slung it over his shoulder, he also holster one of the new M6C magnums into the holster placed on the left side of his chest. Foley placed his helmet over his head and swirled his finger in the air and called, "Let's make this thing happen Marines!" Now, the hardest part of the mission had to take place, the only way to get the large number of dropships close enough to the God's Wrath without being completely decimated, was to exit the ship just as it was making the transition to slip space, the ODSTs as well would be entering by means of three captured Phantom dropships, landing in the port launch bay while the Marines landed in the starboard. The way the Spartans were boarding was unknown, they were being inserted into the Covenant CP now, and from there they had to find a way to get into the ship, being that its gravity beam had been extinguished yesterday. Moody closed his eyes and gripped his rifle tightly, fixing his Sergeant's cap over his head. The countdown timer read 00:17:13, almost…their final hour as well, at least the comfort of going down fighting along side the best of best filled his mind, encouraging him to hurt the enemy so badly that they lost all taste for battle.

       The seven Spartans hit the ramp at the same time, going to the ground in a half circle around the dropship, firing erratically. An Elite leaned out of his guard post and fired a volley of plasma form his aloft position. Linda spun, fired two quick rounds and barely even watched the corpse fall from the tower. More of the violet clad Elites poured into the perimeter, strange that this color designation had not been previously deployed; they were exceptional even among the Elites. John fired three well placed shots towards an artillery team of Grunts who had begun to retreat from their post. Two rounds tore through the nearest Grunts chest armor, spurting neon blue blood across the Forerunner metal on which it had stood, and the third bullet cracked through the second Grunt's scarcely armored head. Will and Ryan proceeded up onto one of the signal outposts, followed closely by Fred and Linda. That left Troy and Kelly to defend the LZ. An Elite charged, ice blue blade lighted high. Troy turned in unison with John and opened fire. The personal shield of the alien shimmered and let out a static pop and died away, through the high velocity rounds continued to shred through the armor, the Sangheili advanced, finally reaching Troy. The warrior raised the blade and sunk it straight through Troy's chest plate, with hissed with the release of energy and the hydraulic gels. Troy's helmeted head dropped several inches looked up at the Elite with cold fury, but the white hot pain in his chest forced him to the ground to die slowly after so many years of combat against the Covenant, only to die by a soldier dangled at the edge of death. John held his M4 at his hip, keyed the M203 grenade launcher attachment and fired. A look that must have passed for shock embraced the Elite's face as the RPG punched through his stomach and blew him backward in several pieces. John looked down mournfully at the fallen Spartan, it was too early in the mission for one of them to die, no it wasn't all of them would be dead soon, sometime during this mission, when or where mattered not, only if at least one of them reached the ship to complete the objective. John ordered Kelly back up to the signal outpost. A blue acknowledgment light winked on and her signal disappeared up the ramp, though came back into focus when 117 chased closely after her.
       They were falling behind schedule, for seven minutes continuous fighting had erupted along the elevated structure. Each Spartan had positioned him or herself along the edge of the four foot high walls that encircled the outpost. "Master Chief, permission to take red team to the platforms and capture that dropship." Fred said over the com. "Granted, go!" John replied, "Kelly, Linda, you guys go with Fred, I'll take the rear." John ordered. A series of blue acknowledgment lights winked on and the line of Spartans fought their way across the plain to the platform, which was guarded by a platoon of Grunts. Ryan and Will knelt, and open fired. The diminutive aliens scurried every which way, pausing to fire a short, ill-placed shot towards the humans. But soon the tidal wave of armor piercing rounds penetrated the thin armor and left a heap of bleeding bodies. The Spartans piled aboard, Will at the cockpit. "Clear?" Will asked. "Yeah your good go!" John bellowed as he repelled a concerted attack by a pair of Elites, which met a barrage of bullets with ravaged their armor and scrambled their insides. Each of them clenched their leaking entrails and fell to the ground. John watched as the dropship rose from the ground and sped into the atmosphere in a violet-red blur. John had no intentions of scrubbing this mission or abandoning his team mates. His rifle chattered, as yet more of the Covenant minor troops fell under the weight of to Spartan's defense.
       00:03:57 flashed across John's countdown timer. He had blown the door and trapped beneath the signal outpost. The ice blue beam of energy flared out of the unseen emitter some thousands of meters below. "Cortana, I need an assessment of this beam now." John said aiming towards the doorways.
"You could say please you know?" Cortana replied, irritation slightly climbing into her voice. "It is a semi-stable gravity beam that fires a blast to the opposite side of Halo carrying a detailed transmission of climate read-outs, environment scans—"
"That's all I need to know." John said cutting her off from her lecture about her never ending intellect. The Spartan jumped into the beam path just before it fired. The strange sensation he had felt when he entered the docking beam at High Charity to board the Ark filled his stomach again, and he began to slow, now inside of the vacuum of space. "The God's Wrath, there it is!" Cortana cried as John skidded across the slippery alien hull. Hs armored fingers groped for a handhold as he continued to slip, and when he did fall, he wouldn't live to try again. The launch bay drew into sight, though the energy blast door was lowered. But it was his best chance. John turned and propelled himself down to the bay, where the bubbly ice blue energy dominated his view. He threw his hand into the shimmering liquid-like energy, and to his surprise, he traveled straight through it, finding himself lying safely inside the ship on the opposite side of the door. Two Phantoms occupied the bay, along with a crashed Pelican lying half way onto its side. This was the port bay, being that the ODSTs had already moved through and secured this bay, and should be making their way to the Bridge. John's weapon was gone, along with most of his ammunition, though his pistol had remained in place. He discarded the last of the M4A1 magazines and entered the Pelican. John wondered into the cockpit where he located the pilot's weapon's locker, contained two M6C pistols, a DOA-12 auto shotgun and a MA5B. John retrieved the shotgun, attached the anchoring clips on his back to the weapon and hefted the 5B, and broke open the footlocker to scrounge for ammo, ten magazines, six hundred rounds. John pulled back the charging level and set off to his team's RV point.
       "Will, the bay! It isn't that far away—Will! Pull up!" Kelly cried as the U-shaped dropship skidded into the refit fighter bay of the God's Wrath. The dropship nosed into the wall, crushing a team of engineers, along with two Jackals. Several Grunts fell to their death when the catwalks fractured by the invading dropship. More Engineers swarmed over the craft, trying desperately to repair the ship before it detonated. Will opened the hatches and wouldn't met a cluster of frustrated looks form his team but the mirrored visors masked their emotions. Will lifted his rifle along with the rest of the Spartans prepared as the hatch opened, only to be met by a welcome party of Elites, who had the wisdom to stay behind cover before charging headlong into a Spartan line. Black smoke and fires provided excellent cover for the Spartans as a volley of fragmentation grenades sailed out of nowhere to meet the Elites. Shrapnel in pillars of flame erupted from the explosives, showering the upper class warriors with a deadly fate. Another one of the violet clad Sangheili stood, and threw its arm forward as signal to attack. Fred's team opened fire, in which the armor piercing rounds, laden the aliens with tennis ball-sized gaps through their bright colored armor. Fred stood surveying the scene. They had been here minutes and the devastation was immense, it looked as though the entire bay was going to crumple up and float away. Fortunate to the super soldiers, it did not.
       John's rifle chattered as the high velocity shredder rounds sped down the massive corridors. Unlike the tightly cramped Covenant corridors of the standard warships, the God's Wrath's corridors were immense, filled with various elevated catwalks, that played against the Master Chief as the diminutive Covenant Grunts continued to fire down on him from a above, jeering and taunting in a series of guttural barks. The Spartan sprayed the catwalks with fire, and taking the distraction to slip into another hatch…though having escaped from the Grunts, meant facing six fully armed Elites, weapons lowered, mandibles clicked, and after a series of war cries, they charged. John couldn't contain the smile under his visor so he didn't bother. 117 stepped out the door, rifle slung, two grenades clutched in each armored fist, the door began to cycle shut, when the grenades hit the ground on the other side. A satisfying whomp resonated through the other side of the blast door. The Grunts were standing menacingly behind him, apparently thinking he'd forgotten about, whispering among them selves, preparing for the kill, when a fragmentation grenade rolled onto the catwalk and cut each one of them to ribbons. Ryan stood over them, rifle aiming frantically around the room searching for hostilities. When finding none, he preformed the smile gesture and waved him forward.

       "MEDIC!" a marine wailed from across the plaza within the ship. "Scotty! We need a medic here now!" Moody bellowed. Scotty stood and looked to the Sergeant's position, the marine fired two bursts and hurled a grenade dived head first into the debris that sheltered the wounded soldier. "He looks pretty bad Sarge, I don't know about this one," Scotty muttered under his breath to Moody, afraid the marine would panic if he knew his true fate. The marine's legs were gone, and all the bones in his right arm were shattered. The marine whimpered something incomprehensible and continued to mumble under his breath. Scotty reached for the morphine injectors at his belt, but before he could manage, a towering eight foot tall Elite hurtled over the trench and crushed the wounded soldier's skull with its massive boot. Scotty flew backwards involuntarily, avoiding the second stomp. The medic continued to scramble backwards until he felt something nudge him. Turning around expecting Moody, came to the horrible realization that there were no more marines here, or at least in his debris consisting trench. Their rifles leveled, Scotty held his breath and removed his last grenade. He could try to run, but he had seen these warriors slaughter marines before they could even fire a shot. It was worth a try. Scotty dropped the grenade and leapt for safety. The aliens turned and immediately hosed the debris around him with plasma. He heard the rifles whine until they began to overheat, he couldn't believe he made it, then the grenade went off, two heavy objects, the Elites he supposed, crashed down beside him while the pile of debris shifted and buried him. him with plasma fire. Scotty groped at his life as it slipped away, then all went black with a tremendous explosion.
       "Scotty? Scotty, are you alright?" asked a marine Corporal standing over him. Scotty's eyes opened slowly and blinked cautiously at the man above him. "I can hear bells ringing," Scotty replied and sat up. "C'mon dude, the rest of the platoon went ahead somewhere, I lost my squad a few meter that way," he said jerking his thumb back behind him. "Right, I lost my rifle," Scotty muttered as the Marine retrieved a pistol from the deck and handed it him.

"Captain Heim, Sir, area is secure, we own the Bridge." Sergeant Stacker replied, slapping a fresh clip into the receiver of his rifle. "Good work Sergeant how's the Marine's progress?" Heim replied. "They have multiple MIA, several causalities, but Captain Foley and his squad are at engineering now, Sir." Heim tapped his lip with his finger, carefully watching his men amble across the deck, patrolling the area. As everything else on the ship, the Bridge was gigantic, it had taken the majority of his men to secure it, and to recon every hatch. Now all they needed was the Spartans to arrive.

       The door impeding the squad of super soldier's progress flew open with a bone shattering explosion. "Will take point I got rear," Fred said as he backpedaled several steps and threw several disapproving glances at the violet bulkheads and the dull blue lights that flooded the hallway. Fred sighted several bodies of Marines, slouched against the walls of the corridor, and in the corners, a strange sense of foreboding crept over him. Blood streaked the floors from previously dragged bodies; his NAV marker showered seventy meters to the target, almost there. The blue lights flickered on and off; Fred continued to keep his rifle up, searching every corner, every nook. The Bodies began to thicken, and Fred couldn't take it any more. "Form up," he rasped. "Everybody form up, get tight," Fred looked down at the body at his feet and read the name scrawled onto the helmet, FOLEY. So much for engineering being secure. He thought to himself, his eyes darting to every shadow. Fred had contact with every kind of stealth spec ops soldier the Covenant had deployed, though even an entire squad of stealth Elites would have had a hard time decimating half of a Marine platoon.
       "How is that possible, Excellency, the Parasite was under surveillance from the second that we harvested them from the Ring, it could not have broken free." A hushed deep voice emitted from the adjacent door. "It may be true, but the corridors are littered with human corpses, and all those who you had watching the specimen have been found dead, and not by means of the human's weapons." The second deep voice replied, anger feverishly running through his voice. "How could this be, there was only one of the infections, the others were dealt with! How could it possibly been the Flood? Perhaps a team of commandos, deployed from the Ship Master?" The first spoke more loudly this time. "If you have not taken notice 'Irkramee, the Ship Master is on the surface of the Ring at the present time, and do to recent reports, he has been found, killed by the demon himself! I had assumed tactical deployment seventy units ago! And no teams were deployed there accept a troop of Unggoy, who were found dead with similar wounds to the Security Squad detached to the Containment Centre, you have released the Parasite upon our ship, 'Irkramee! Now the infidels have provided them with food, even more food than the already sustaining feast that consist of our own kind aboard this vessel, the Flood has been unleashed, and with the Control Centre overthrown, along with the engineering centre, there is no hope for us." The second voice sneered. "We must journey to Communications, before the humans obtain another prize, and also avoid the Parasite, so that our brothers can fire on our Ship to cleanse it of its unrighteousness, so that then we can crush the last of the human race and focus the Covenant to victory, but you, Irkramee, no, you shall stay with your ship, and bear to burden of your heresy with the price of giving your life."
       Fred had heard enough, even by only confronting the Flood once before, he knew that he never wanted to fight them again. The door slid open and a bronze clad Elite that he assumed was Irkramee strode outside. Before Fred could kill the alien warrior, its chest exploded, along with most of his face. John 117 was standing behind him, shotgun leveled. "Master Chief, we have a problem, Sir." Fred began. "The Flood, Chief, the Covenant released them, inside the ship, I believe we should scrub the mission and proceed groundside for the defense of Alpha Base," John was deep in thought, considering all of the outcomes, Fred was right, the ship had to be destroyed, but the failure of the mission threw everything into disarray, Harper would not be able to hold against the Covenant's final wave. Ryan jogged into the hallway behind him. "What's the story Chief?" Will asked, rifled still searching for possible targets. "Back to the Bridge, we need to get to Captain Heim and the rest of the Marines," John muttered, "Cortana, send the RV signal to the last of the Marines and plant the NAV marker at the Bridge, and also make sure the Pelicans are still in working order." John said helping Linda set claymores at each hatch.
       "You could say please, you know?" Cortana replied after two heartbeats. John ignored her. "Done. Platoon Sergeant Moody has gotten as many men as he could to band together and move for the Bridge."
       "Good, we're on our way now, I'm putting you into the system, warm up every turret we have and open fire on everything he can reach." John said, running down another corridor, his Spartans behind him.
       "I'm on it, Chief."
       "One more thing Cortana, get me the statistics of the Cairo, and then send them directly to my HUD."
       "Right away Chief, I'm done, sending now." Cortana said.
       The dead MAC station wasn't in great shape, but contained some atmosphere, though it was swarming with Covenant single troops. John highlighted the atmosphere-9bearing chambers with the launch bays and marked it for later on in the mission, if there was later on. The door of the bridge slid open with a shriek, and the Spartans were met by a squad of heavily armed Helljumpers, the lead was tagged and Staff Sergeant Sam Reinhart. "Reinhart, we need to see Captain Heim."
       The Sergeant shifted uneasily and stepped aside, after a cautious look down the corridor he hit the door control. John surveyed the room, it was gigantic, the lights had cast a dull blue hue on everything, contrasting with the violet bulkhead and the pink deck plates. There were however several Marine regulars in the room, ones who John recognized from previous engagements, and from his own platoon on the Ring. Master Sergeant Jeremy Pearson and his team, the five Marine pilots had survived and made it to the Bridge, which John was thankful for, they would need the pilots for the extraction…if there was an extraction. The pilots' mirrored visors were still set in place over their eyes, while each of them cradled an assault rifle and grenades, it was fortunate that the pilots were accustomed to combat. John spotted Heim, standing near the central view screen, his rifle still resting at his waist, though his finger twitched near the trigger.
       The young officer strode down from the elevated platform and beckoned to the Spartans. "Master Chief, it's good to see you alive." Heim began. "Moody is moving here now, he should be here soon, luckily, there's been no contact with the Flood, only a few Covenant patrols, nevertheless, Cortana has two confirmed kills but my men are moving in squads to reach the launch bays, making sure that the Marine sentries there haven't been overrun."
       "Captain, do your men still have the NOVA we dragged up here?" John asked.
       "Yes they do, Chief—"
       "Good, we're going to arm it here, after your men have evacuated and are safe aboard the Cairo."
       "Chief, the Cairo didn't make it Chief, it and its crew are dead, and even if it wasn't the blast would destroy it." Heim answered.
       "Captain, we are, after all, in the black, so the detonation radius would envelope the ships around us, but only kill the systems in the rest that were operational, leaving them dead in space, I believe the titanium armor on the station would be able to shelter its remaining systems, I've already sent the coordinates to your pilots, there an operational launch bay, with a Prowler still intact on the underbelly of the station, you and your men would be able to return to Earth before the second NOVA goes off on the surface." John stated, taking a step forward to help a marine out of one of the trench like stations below them.
       "……Okay Chief, but we need you guys with us, we aren't leaving without you and your team, you've saved to many of my men," Heim responded, spinning around rifle up, to the door that had just slid open with a metallic creak. Sergeant Moody and Sergeant Ryan stepped inside, carrying a limp marine between them, along with the rest of the squad behind them, thirteen of the original thirty men.
       "I've done all I can Chief, we need to leave, now!" Cortana's voice came over the loud speakers.
       "You heard the lady, Brock, Jimmy, you guys get the nuke set, and everyone else, form fire teams, seven man minimum, and move for the launch bays! Go, go, go!" Heim bellowed, sending various orders to the ODSTs and marines scuttling about the Bridge.
       John absorbed Cortana and turned to observe the helljumpers place a large crate in the centre of the raised platform. "Timer set for seventeen minutes, Marines!" John barked. The Marines gave him a thumbs up as they armed the bomb, and scurried away from it as though it was going to explode any second. John cast a glance over the faces of the Marines and past the reflective helmet guards of the shock troopers.
       Four teams held their breath and broke out of the door at a run down the corridor, two pilots along with them. Tens seconds past, three more squads. Forty seconds, one more squad. One hundred forty five seconds, the first group had just reached the launch bays; second-to-last team departs for the bay. Only John, Will, Fred, Ryan, Kelly, Linda, Heim, Moody and eight Marines remained. Another three minutes ticked off John's mission clock. The Marines and Moody departed. John checked the timer, not much longer. "Captain, its time to leave, Sir."
       The dropships appeared ahead, Moody's men piled in, along with the Helljumpers beside them; the dropships weren't pulling full capacity, due to the Marines massive causalities. Moody threw another glance over his shoulder towards the bulkhead. Slowly the door hissed open. The Spartans appeared. Moody was about to welcome them aboard when a lance of plasma sliced into the wall of the bay. Atmosphere disintegrated, the bay doors opened involuntarily, and sucked out an entire Pelican load of Helljumpers. The craft would have had a chance if the cockpit hadn't collided with the bulkhead and decompressed. Moody pulled himself aboard and had time to time to pull a few Marines aboard, before the atmospheric doors creaked shut and the craft elevated, speeding out of the alien bay, leaving the rest of the men below to fend for themselves…

Fate, Ch. 8
Date: 17 August 2005, 3:43 am

Fate, Chapter Eight

Thirty-four days later.
Earth Campaign Front, Feather River, Almanor
506th Airborne,
Fire-team Zulu of Fourth Platoon


       Private First Class Samuel Ramirez waded through the thigh deep icy clear water of the Feather River on the North American continent. From the soldier's view the river went on forever, while the thick pine and spruce forest enclosed the squad. It might have been considered beautiful if the banks of the river were not littered with corpses. More than once, Sam waded past a Marine's body floating against a rock, staring into the grey sky with clouded eyes. Corporal Hawkins, a survivor of a doomed mission above the Ring world of Halo only a month ago, strode next to him, frost edging at the man's reflective visor. The rest of the squad was spread along the next dozen meters, all wading through the cold water, finding more cover among the rocks and stumps in the river bed rather than on the exposed pathway that skirted the stream above. The squad had been forced down a rocky precipice a few kilometers back by a duo of harassing Ghosts, which opened up into the Feather River. For miles the river continued to flow steadily, and it seemed to never end. First Squad was to meet with them a dozen miles north from their position, but the banks of the river were not a safe passage to the RV point. Sergeant Jones held up a fist and knelt behind a large rock. Icy water lapped against Ramirez's legs and engulfed him up to his chest when he knelt beside Hawkins. Dominic and Mackenzie edged out towards the banks, while Hackett took point in front of Jones. A troop of Jackals sloshed sloppily into the creek bed, waving their plasma rifles above their heads and squawking amongst themselves. Sam took his aim, as did Hawkins beside him. The Jackals ceased their careless strut and activated their energy shields. The bird-like aliens sniffed the crisp air and shook their heads, eyes darting from rock to rock. Adrian Jones fired as did Hackett. The high velocity rounds tore through the aliens' light armor and pierced the scaled skin. The lead Jackal staggered backward, two fist-sized holes residing in its chest. The second squawked angrily and fired its rifle. Plasma whined past Sam's ear and Hackett and Jones dove behind a boulder nearby. Plasma etched away the rock with superheated bolts. Hawkins fired next to him and one of the aliens was riddled a barrage of automatic weapon's fire. The alien emitted the equivalent to a scream and keeled over with a splash. Hackett was firing blindly from his position to pin the Jackals down while Jones hurled a grenade into their midst. The cloud of shrapnel blanketed only two of the remaining seven Jackals, five left. Ramirez swore loudly and another bolt of plasma sizzled the stone he hid behind. Sam took a deep breath and turned firing from his shoulder. The rear Jackal squawked and turned to face him, shield propped at its knee. Sam swore again as the rounds projected off the alien's shield. The ammunition counter was rapidly dropping, only thirteen rounds left. Another Jackal had climbed atop the rock behind Sam's chosen target. A pistol's report erupted from behind him. The Jackal on the boulder's head jerked back and purple blood spurted from the creature's neck. Hawkins stood behind him, pistol drawn. Sam did not double take but continued to fire at the nook of the Jackal's shield. Finally a trio of bullets penetrated the nook and removed the Jackal's wrist from its arm. It screamed with fury until Hawkins put a bullet through its forehead. Two more gone, nearly there. The last three aliens were bunched closely together, firing on Jones and Hackett. Sam took aim at the nearest alien's exposed flank and pulled the trigger. A sickening click filled his ears; he had forgotten to reload after his recent kill. "You've got to be kidding me!" Sam cried as he ejected the clip and nervously jammed the next into the receiver. A green blur caught his vision and splashed across Hackett's chest. Hackett stumbled backward fumbling with his melting chest plate.
       "Get it off! Get it off!" Hackett cried as Dominic dived into the water towards him. Dominic yanked off the chest plate and dunked Hackett under water several times to extinguish his melting jacket. Jones cast a nervous glance towards the Private and continued firing. When the last Jackal fell, as did an eerie silence, disturbed only by the cooing of an unseen bird. Their rifles shot hither and fro, searching for fresh targets. Finally Jones spoke in a quiet but steady voice, "Let's move out boys, we're not far now from the RV, Lieutenant Tucker will be waiting for us." A series of nods filled the squad, as Hackett reluctantly salvaged an undamaged chest plate off a corpse of a marine lying on the banks. "C'mon, only one more mile until we're okay to use the bank paths, by then we'll only be an hour to the RV." Jones stated and began to wade down the shallow river.
       Jones had finished his 'words of encouragement' when the sky began pelting the men with ice cold rain, accompanied by the occasional hail down pour. Ramirez's legs were numb and every step through the water became harder. To make things worse, night had fallen, since most of the Marines had lost their helmets in the drop from the Pelican, their night vision was also shot. Sam's eyes darted from each shadow to the next and thunder rumbled overhead. Sam could have sworn that he saw the outlines of Covenant troops in the tree line above the banks. Jones continued to caution them to move from rock to rock. The team's movements seemed sluggish and the short mile walk seemed like hours. Dominic and Mackenzie emerged from the water and were now walking above the other four members on the bank's paths. Sam continued to resist the urge to scream and warn Mackenzie each time the lightning revealed the silhouette of a Covenant troop, for when he double took the outline was gone. Twice the roar of a Phantom erupted over their heads, where they dove under water and swam to cover, watching the more and more Covenant troops emerge only meters in front of them abandoning their patrol to board the dropship. There had been one lone Elite, wading in the same direction as themselves, in which he was promptly torn apart by a flurry of highly explosive shredder rounds. That was an hour ago; the mile had been accomplished; now it was into the forest, but first up the banks of the river. It seemed darker here and anywhere he'd ever been before, there wasn't a city for miles, accept a small town called 'Chester' which had been ransacked by Covenant troops and its occupants massacred, so there was no streetlights, no streets for that matter, and no one else beside Forth Platoon and a Covenant Expeditionary Unit, if there was a Fourth Platoon anyway.

Two miles North of Zulu Squad
506th Airborne,
Fire Team Bravo of Fourth Platoon
       Master Sergeant Jeremy Ryan had seen most of the Human-Covenant war first hand, from Reach to Delta Halo, Ryan peered over the moss cover log into the black forest beyond. Corporal Pitch crawled up beside him and muttered something Jeremy did not hear, but nodded anyway. PFC. Shaw jogged to him and landed by him in a crouch.
       "Alright mates, we got trouble up ahead, I can see the base from here but as for Tucker or anyone from the base…I got nothing." Shaw reported, fingers twitching along the handle of his BR-55. Strewcker stood and looked around the mossy terrain. Half of the base was overgrown, if they had not been looking for it, they probably would have looked it over. Ryan cautiously approached the complex, nervously eyeing a fallen Marine just outside the main gates. The forest had claimed most of the installation, while there was no sign of the Covenant. The RV point was not in the base, but on the opposite side of it, where the river flowed through. They had lost contact with Zulu after the squad had disappeared down a gorge pursued by two Ghosts. The five-man fire team continued to edge along the overgrown path to the base. The structure seemed to rise higher as they approached it, being roughly three stories high, where each balcony sported gun emplacements. Many of the base's vehicles were scattered about the grounds in ruin along with their various pilots. "Clear!" Caser yelled as he entered the complex. "Clear!" Pitch repeated. Jeremy reluctantly entered the base, rifle leveled. Glistening crimson blood smeared the corridors, much like the streaks that he had seen in the—he quickly rid the thought from his mind. The Flood can't be on Earth, its just my imagination. The lights that hung above their head flickered in and out of existence, most of the time leaving the team in utter darkness. Static charges and sparks splintered through the walls, and occasionally Ryan's men found themselves stumbling over the bodies of their fallen comrades. With it being only 2100 hours, the darkness outside the base was still as black as anything before it. The corridor ended with a blown out doorway, surrounded by six or seven fallen marines.
       "Base is dead sir, there's no one left." Caser said as he stepped out into the rain.
       "He's right Sir, but RV isn't far from here, if we move now, we can make it within a few more minutes…" Shaw voice trailed off as a flicker of orange glinted after a lightning strike. The five assault rifles sprang up. Ryan made a fist and pulled it down and pointed towards the position. Shaw and Caser nodded and approached the position. The two Marines disappeared into the darkness. The rumble of thunder swallowed the chatter of the men's rifles. Someone screamed. Ryan's rifle was up, searching for the target, Pitch and Strewcker were just inches behind him, his own breathing filled his ears. A marine lay face down in the mud just in front of Jeremy's feet, the unmistakable screaming eagle emblem occupying the man's left shoulder. Shaw was dead, and Caser was lying propped against a tree with blood pouring down his front like rain. Ryan hands shook; he could hear the other's breathing now, but where was the Elite? He had to be near. A shimmer caught his vision accompanied by a flash of ice blue. Pitch splashed to the ground beside him. Strewcker was firing, and without realizing it, so was he. He heard Strewcker fall beside him, almost sure the Elite had killed him as well. The clip fell from the rifle and Ryan stumbled backward, splashing into the puddles beneath him. The shimmer came closer and closer until it turned to a solid shape. The figure was hooded and cloaked in black robes; a glint of silver armor beneath the cloak caught his vision. Razor sharp teeth emerged from just below the center of where the creature's face should have been. A sword was drawn from the creature's waist, immersed in a pale blue glow. The sword passed across his chest and Ryan felt the warm blood against his cold body. A clawed hand rose and came across his face. He tasted blood, and everything turned to match the dead of night.

One mile from Fire Team Zulu
Just outside Theta Complex
       The Sangheili Shaman looked down at the staggering human and raised his boot. The blow hit the human just below the throat and sent him down into the mud. Whether the human would survive or not was his decision now. He looked down at the human without emotion and raised his boot for the second time. He readied to crush the human's skull when something struck him from behind. The warrior turned snarling, the impacts splashed across his back again. The Elite raised his palm and uttered, " Anosskui Ontiona!" The incantation that he had spoken was inherited from the Prophet of Truth, who he had killed himself. A beam of fiery red laced through the night and clashed with a tree. The tree was vaporized instantly, along with everything else within a twenty yard radius. The Shaman, the newly appointed leader of the Covenant Juggernaut, sighted several of the humans fly in separate directions. The Sangheili took pride at his sorcery and muttered another incantation, "Aksio, altionus! " A loud crack resonated above the rain and the Elite was gone, his hidden companions were killed instantly, while in seconds later he appeared on a Covenant Cruiser that hovered several hundred kilometers away. With these new powers once possessed by the insolent Prophets, 'Ultazee was the Chosen Leader of the new Covenant, and nothing would impede their progress to destroy the human's existence.

Aboard the Shaman's Curse
Seven seconds ago
       With another loud crack, the Shaman appeared on the Bridge of the newly christened flagship, the Shaman's Curse. Four bronze-clad Elites stood at his welcome. All of them bowed elegantly and kneeled onto the ground. The four Field Commanders or 'Generals' as the human scum identified them, were the Shaman's most important weapons. The lead General stood.
       "Greetings in the highest respect, Excellency." He stated and bowed a second time.
       The Shaman Leader snapped his mandibles several times and threw back his hood, as the hood fell to his shoulder it revealed a tall elegant helmet of a counselor, taken from the body of one of the Arbiter's rebellious Elites. Even when the Prophets had been defeated, and the Elites restored to power, this foolhardy Sangheili had refused to fight against the humans. So, the Elite who was once called 'Ultazee killed the Prophet of Truth and the last of his disciples and severed his ties with the Arbiter and his forces. The helmet had been remade and formed with the richest platinum and gold that the Covenant had to offer. The rest of his Forerunner armor matched his helmet, and sported a sacred artifact that he treasured beyond all else: The Lekgolo steeled sword, whose heritage tracked to the First Age of Reclamation. The black robe shrouded most of his elegant armor. But the Shaman of the Covenant's appearance was not what earned him his reverence. When he struck down the final and most powerful Prophet of Truth he inherited strange powers rumored to be possessed by the Forerunner themselves.
       "As to you, Orntrasee, I trust your legion caused the humans some difficulty?"
       "Yes, Excellency, a legion of Kig-Yar was most successful in slowing them down…but I am sorry to say that the legion did not survive."
       "As I expected, Orntrasee, I had advised you sent one of your officers with them nonetheless."
       "My sincere apologies, Highness."
       "No matter, the legion of humans that were nearly at the artifact was dealt with, but the humans are relentless, another legion appeared on my flank, my field staff was killed when I…'departed.'" A smirk passed across his mandibles.
       "Of course, Excellency, I would be glad to deploy more Elites to your field staff." Orntrasee stressed the word, as it seemed whenever the Shaman 'departed' his Elites ended up dead.
       "I would not expect anything short of that, Orntrasee," replied the Shaman grimly and lifted his hood and strode to the ship's temple. Orntrasee scowled deeply and placed his helmet over his skull. He watched in disgust as the robes billowed behind the Shaman. His hand had been resting on his plasma pistol the entire time without noticing, he could kill the arrogant warrior here and claim the powers for himself. The holster unlocked, the pistol's familiar grip filled his hand. Orntrasee raised the weapon and fired. The bolt seared the air towards the Shaman. Just and the taste of victory and dominance filled his mouth, the Shaman turned. The Sangheili raised his palm and said something. The answer was that the bolt disappeared. The second word Orntrasee could here; " Expellii! " The pistol flew from his iron hard grip and spun to the ground.
       "Foolish, Surda…I had thought that after years of our childhood and fighting back to back, that you would have trusted my judgment and had faith in my Covenant." The Shaman challenged.
       "I have committed the highest heresy, Excellency, be swift with my death, but at the least give me the honor of death by the sword." Though his words were pleading, his voice was steady and sure, in other meaning he had not a pinch of sincerity in his statement.
       "You do not die for lust of power, Surda. For that is cold ambition, in which if I had not possessed this trait, my melting body would be lying feet from where I stand, though you also have acquired this trait, so it shall save your life as well. But I warn you Surda, challenge my strengths again and I will kill myself…regardless of our past friendship…"
       Surda Orntrasee snarled as the Shaman lifted his hood and strode further down the corridor. If he held conference with the other Field Commanders, they could plot to overthrow the Shaman and restore the power to the council. If only the Arbiter was willing to fight the humans, then with the help of his Elites, order could be restored to the Covenant. But either way, the Shaman had to be killed. The other Commanders were all too loyal to the Shaman, so they could not be relied upon; the Arbiter was his only choice, the only way to repair the Covenant, was to plunge it into civil war.
* * * * *
       "Solahee, come with me please."
       "Yes Excellency, right away."
       Solahee approached, clad in cobalt Forerunner armor. "I need my Phantom readied in a half cycle."
       "Yes, Excellency, I shall gather a flight crew at once."
       "No, Solahee, you are the only one accompanying me, but several things need to be made clear to you before we depart, I would hate to have to kill you."
       "Of course, Excellency, what are the conditions?"
       "Never mind that at the moment, all you need to accomplish as of now is to prepare your combat armor and try to get your hands on a rifle from the armory if you can manage it." Surda said. The Elite eyed him wearily and nodded.
       "Yes, Excellency, your ship is due at…bay four on this sector of the ship." He replied, "I shall rendezvous with you there."
       "Very well." Answered Surda.
* * * * *
       Orntrasee held the captured carbine close to his chest as he past a troop of diminutive Grunts, who eyed him fearfully. The door to the bay was not far ahead but the plaza prior to the door was heavily guarded. Four Grunts mustered in the corner while two Elites stood by the door. His grip on the carbine tightened, especially when the Elites wore black robes, which indicated the honor guard of the Shaman. A Jackal stepped forward and blocked his path.
       "Identification." The Kig-Yar barked as he looked over the boarding schedules.
       "Out of the way, Bok, my business is my own."
       Bok looked him over quietly and his hand shot to his slung rifle. The Jackal's reflexes were nothing to his own, before the alien could react, his neck was broken, his body was carelessly flung into an engineer's nook. Luckily, the honor guard had not witnessed the murder, and continued to stand at rigid attention. His grip tightened again, his fingers twitching, a shot to the head on each of them would kill them instantly, and their shields would be off. The first honor guard caught sight of him and raised his spear and swung it in his direction. The spear jabbed about his head while his grip on the trigger tightened and released a bolt of plasma. The bolt splashed across the Elite's face and blew a section of it off, while the section spattered across the wall behind it. Its comrade roared with fury and raised the spear above its head and sprang forward to meet the Field Commander. The spear point plunged into his left shoulder and threw him back onto the metal floor. The Grunts that huddled in the corner sat petrified while the honor guard raised the spear for the killing blow. Surda had to act quickly. He swung his legs into a kick and brought out the Elite's legs from under him. The honor guard crashed to the ground, but was up at a crouch in seconds. Surda's rifle was out of reach, so he drew his knife and sank the blade into the honor guard's chest. Blood spurted into Surda's face and over his hands. The other Elite swung quickly and the blow hit Surda squarely in the face. But Orntrasee's final reverse crescent kick threw the Elite off balance enough for him to kill the honor guard without further conflict. His personal Phantom lay just outside the bay. Blood poured from the wound in his shoulder, while when Solahee came into view, and he was unscathed. The Elite had donned his black special operations armor and strode into the Phantom. The Field Commander followed and collapsed on the 'couch' inside and began cleaning the wound. Solahee, being the expert pilot that he was, sailed out of the bay and slipped into a slip space portal just before it slid shut. Solahee vigorously typed in a flurry of commands to the slip space portal and seconds later they accessed the web of the alternate dimension's many pathways. They would meet with the Arbiter only hours from now.

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