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Noble Team: Origins by Flugel Meister



Noble Team: Origins (Part 1)
Date: 27 May 2010, 1:14 pm

In honour of the forthcoming game, I have written a short story based on the events that mould one character in particular.


Origins
A Halo: Reach Prequel

Jake had long been accustomed to hardship; it had been a constant factor for most of his life. Only in his earliest years had there been any form of stability and peace. Now, though, every day was a fight for survival. But that was what Jake excelled at, surviving. And that was why he was a Spartan-III.

The drop into the atmosphere of Arcadia had been typical in every way. Bone shattering G-forces pulled at every joint, muscle and tendon, and were often accompanied by a collection of distorted but comical facial expressions. Unconsciousness was not uncommon either, but for a Spartan it was simply another means of insertion, one that was covered in a blanket of subterfuge as they descended through the wisps of white cloud with another four hundred SOEIV's, each of them filled with Orbital Drop Shock troopers. But the ODST's were not there to support Jake and his fellow Spartan, Jen-146. They were simply there to reinforce the beleaguered defenders below and to mask the Spartan's insertion. The Covenant would simply think of it as another human attempt to save this battered colony. Instead of a vital mission that could shock them into talks of peace.

Jake's mission was relatively straightforward -- drop into an area of dense jungle around two-hundred kilometres north of Pirth, the once impressive capital city of Arcadia, until the Covenant had decimated it when they first attacked nearly twenty years ago. Once in, they were to head another hundred kilometres east towards a cluster of ruins that were strung around the nearby plateau in a series of circular patterns, where their objective was located. Jake had no idea what or who the target was, he and Jen were there to simply observe at first, reporting on enemy movements and strengths and, more importantly, what the Covenant were so interested in. Then they would hopefully be given the green light to proceed.

Despite the original plan being straightforward in principle, missions against the Covenant, especially high-value targets, were rarely simple in nature. The Covenant were fiercely protective of anything valuable and would place their best troops to protect it. But that was the problem. Only two Spartans, against an entire army of the best the Covenant had, on a mission that could effectively end the war. It was an opportunity that could not be missed and warranted an entire company of Spartans, not a single pair. Jake had his suspicions that Colonel Ackerson was doing his usual trick of sending Spartans off on suicide missions. He was an opportunist, in every way possible, much to the detriment of his own species. Any other commander would have sent everything they had.

Jake checked the descent vector on the SOEIV's small mission display. They were on course for the original drop coordinates, at least for now.

He chinned the secure COM channel inside his newly designed infiltration suit. "Jen, stand by for vector adjustment in twelve seconds."

There was a brief pause before her status light illuminated. She was always like this at the start of a mission, quiet. But that differed greatly from how she would be later on. Every Spartan had their own quirks and habits. Some were simply annoying, whereas others would even exhibit what could be described as useful characteristics. But Jen always started off as quiet as a mouse only to gradually turn into a member of a one-sided conversation where she never shut up. She never ceased to amaze Jake. On one occasion, about a year ago, she managed a three-hour deliberation on the subject of Spartan footwear during downtime. Even when a Covenant patrol turned up she carried on talking -- slitting the throats of five Jackals whilst describing her ideal make of shock resistant running shoes. She was infuriating. But Jake was paired with her for a good reason. They were exceptional together. Untouched by any other Spartan pair, even the Head-hunter teams measured somewhat mediocre by comparison. But that was because he and Jen had always been together, through childhood and their induction into the Spartan-III program. They could predict each others actions like no other Spartan, they compensated each other perfectly, always one step ahead of the other teams. Moving and fighting like twins. But that's because they were.

Jake tapped the joint descent switch and paired his pod with Jen's, and then pulled both of them away from the other, larger group of SOEIV's. It was a relatively new feature that allowed a commanding drop pod to control the overall drop. It could be manually overridden in the event of catastrophic failure, such as the command pod being hit be surface to air munitions.

He glanced over at the ODST's as they descended towards the ruins of Pirth. It was ablaze, with a thick column of smoke rising into the air like the trunk of a giant black tree. Jake knew his mission was suicidal in nature but in actual fact it was the ODST's that were the suicidal ones. Their mission was simply a distraction, with no hope of return.

He turned his attention back to the mission, and guided the descent towards the drop zone. They plummeted towards the surface until the braking thrusters fired and the drag chute deployed. Then they plunged through the forest canopy and hit the DZ.

To be continued...



Noble Team: Origins
Date: 4 June 2010, 6:14 pm

Part Two

Fifty-Two Kilometres from Objective

"What do you mean they have it easy?" Jake replied, pausing mid-stride.

Jen stopped ahead, the chameleonic layer of her SPI armour masking her true position. "All I'm saying is that their armour can take a beating, whereas ours can't, and they don't have an army nut-job sending them off to the wild beyond," she replied, with an excited tone.

Jake could tell she was becoming chattier. There had been nothing else for the last ten kilometres. The thought of hearing his sister endlessly talking about the most mundane subjects you could think of was something that filled him with dread. On several occasions, the thought of either listening to his sister talk for hours or taking on fifty Hunter pairs was deliberated to drown out the noise. He knew exactly which choice was preferable. He didn't even have the luxury of turning off the COM channel. But this time the subject was far more interesting and too important to ignore. "I don't agree. It's not like any of their missions are sugar-coated walks in the park."

Jen's shimmering shape moved off again, with slow deliberate steps, towards a pile of uprooted trees near a rise in the terrain. "Okay then. Maybe they don't have it easy, but things a far better for them than they are for us three's. "

"How's that?"

"Well, they were made public, which means they get all the support HIGHCOM and ONI can dish out. So they get all the back up they need to see a mission through. All we get is a magic clown suit and a box of tricks."

"If it bothers you that much," Jake replied, sarcasm ringing through, "why don't you join the 85th in Pirth. I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you, especially when you tell them they're nothing more than a diversion and that HIGHCOM has no intention of holding on to this jungle covered rock."

"Mmm, maybe. I don't know, Jake."

Jake smiled. It was unusual for Jen to be lost for words, but being the monopoly on conversation for the past five years had obviously softened her resolve for a good argument. And for the first time in those five years, there was a full three kilometres of silence. Jake relished it. He hadn't even noticed until now that his ears were ringing slightly. After a while, though, and with a sense of frustration, Jake was beginning to notice the lack of noise. After all this time he had actually become accustomed to her one-sided conversations.

"Okay, Jen. You win. Looks like I can't do without your riveting conversation after all."

Jake waited for a response or a sharp witted reply, but neither came. He quickly checked his motion scanner. Jen was stationary. "Jen, Report," he whispered.

Her status light flashed amber. "Possible sentries. Fifty metres."

"Strength and composition?"

"Unknown. They're using active camo," she replied.

Jake was puzzled. "Elites?"

"Looks like it. I can just make them out. Two clusters of three. I think."

An enemy position this far out was to be expected, but one filled with Elites draped in active camouflage was unusual, even for the Covenant. Whatever Ackerson had designated as their target, it was damn important.

"Any patrols?" Jake probed.

There was an obvious pause before Jen replied. "I can't see any movement and the motion scanner isn't picking anything up, but they could simply be further in -- "

"or out of range," Jake concluded. "We'll have to box around them. Give them a wide berth. Two kilometres should do it. Pull back. Leapfrog. I'll follow."

Jake watched for Jen's barely visible mirage but, like him, she was exceptional at covert insertions. Only the blur of a leaf gave her away as she passed by with a light tap on the shoulder. Jake slowly followed whilst keeping a watchful eye on the area they had just come from. They managed another five-hundred metres before Jen's snail-like pace stopped altogether.

Her status light flashed amber several times.

Jake looked on, trying to pick out the threat. Was it another sentry position? He thought. Then he saw what the problem was. They weren't the only ones trying to sneak around. Another trio of Elites in active cam were slowly making their way through the jungle, though not slow enough to avoid a vigilant pair of eyes and a frequent use of VISR, but too slow for the motion scanner to pick them out. And they were coming right towards them.

Jake's heart began to race, pounding out a powerful drumbeat inside his reinforced ribcage. He was eager for a fight. Sneaking around for hours seemed like a dull life for a Spartan, even if it did ensure survival.

"Avoid the obvious," Jake whispered. "Let them through."

A green status light signalled her response.

Jake inched slowly to one side, keeping an eye on the approaching trio as he did so. Jen had already moved over to avoid them but her position was better placed to avoid any contact, but Jake would be cutting it close. Fortunately, the difference between the Covenant active camouflage and the newly reworked ONI version was substantial. The Elite variant was greatly displaced by movement. The faster the wearer walks, the more visible they become. The Elites were obviously aware of this and were keeping their movement to a minimum, but it was still enough to reveal a shimmer. Jake's suit was different, though. Although less robust and not as capable of taking hits, it was an ideal choice for covert operations as the entire skin of the armour was covered in photo reactive cells that mirrored the surrounding environment with incredible accuracy. Jake's suit was currently the second generation version, designed exclusively for infiltration in the most impossible of situations. It was because of this why Jake knew exactly what separated the Spartan II's from the III's. You know when a Spartan II has been around as everything and everyone will be dead, but you won't know if a Three has been there until a Covenant cruiser explodes.

The three Elites were now only five metres away. Jake carefully moved over as quickly as was safe to do so. Inside, he was yearning for the chance to down an Elite or two, Jen could take out the third, but with patrols come regular patterns of operating. Regular status reports to and from the patrols and the sentry positions, especially around this carefully guarded location, would be strictly adhered to. Any deviation as a result of a missing patrol would bring a lot of unnecessary attention, and heighten the defensive posture of an already wary enemy.

Jake watched two of the Elites pass by with only a foot separating them. He was filled with a strange sense of giddiness in this deadly situation. Thoughts of tapping them on the shoulder and shouting "Boo!" or poking one Elite in the eye were at the forefront of his mind, but he resisted the temptation to do so. The third Elite, however, stopped level with Jake.

At such close quarters, he could hear the thing breathing and grinding its awkward mandibles. Its head moved, scanning the terrain. Could it sense him? Did the Covenant's finest have the alien equivalent of a sixth sense? Speculation would only lead to an overactive imagination.

After a minute or so, the Elite moved off with the other two until they disappeared completely.

"That was close," Jen voiced.

Sure was, Jake thought. "C'mon. Let's keep moving."

To be continued...



Noble Team: Origins (Part 2)
Date: 7 June 2010, 8:27 am

Part Two


Fifty-Two Kilometres from Objective


"What do you mean they have it easy?" Jake replied, pausing mid-stride.

Jen stopped ahead, the chameleonic layer of her SPI armour masking her true position. "All I'm saying is that their armour can take a beating, whereas ours can't, and they don't have an army nut-job sending them off to the wild beyond," she replied, with an excited tone.

Jake could tell she was becoming chattier. There had been nothing else for the last ten kilometres. The thought of hearing his sister endlessly talking about the most mundane subjects you could think of was something that filled him with dread. On several occasions, the thought of either listening to his sister talk for hours or taking on fifty Hunter pairs was deliberated to drown out the noise. He knew exactly which choice was preferable. He didn't even have the luxury of turning off the COM channel. But this time the subject was far more interesting and too important to ignore. "I don't agree. It's not like any of their missions are sugar-coated walks in the park."

Jen's shimmering shape moved off again, with slow deliberate steps, towards a pile of uprooted trees near a rise in the terrain. "Okay then. Maybe they don't have it easy, but things a far better for them than they are for us three's. "

"How's that?"

"Well, they were made public, which means they get all the support HIGHCOM and ONI can dish out. So they get all the back up they need to see a mission through. All we get is a magic clown suit and a box of tricks."

"If it bothers you that much," Jake replied, sarcasm ringing through, "why don't you join the 85th in Pirth. I'm sure they'll be pleased to see you, especially when you tell them they're nothing more than a diversion and that HIGHCOM has no intention of holding on to this jungle covered rock."

"Mmm, maybe. I don't know, Jake."

Jake smiled. It was unusual for Jen to be lost for words, but being the monopoly on conversation for the past five years had obviously softened her resolve for a good argument. And for the first time in those five years, there was a full three kilometres of silence. Jake relished it. He hadn't even noticed until now that his ears were ringing slightly. After a while, though, and with a sense of frustration, Jake was beginning to notice the lack of noise. After all this time he had actually become accustomed to her one-sided conversations.

"Okay, Jen. You win. Looks like I can't do without your riveting conversation after all."

Jake waited for a response or a sharp witted reply, but neither came. He quickly checked his motion scanner. Jen was stationary. "Jen, Report," he whispered.

Her status light flashed amber. "Possible sentries. Fifty metres."

"Strength and composition?"

"Unknown. They're using active camo," she replied.

Jake was puzzled. "Elites?"

"Looks like it. I can just make them out. Two clusters of three. I think."

An enemy position this far out was to be expected, but one filled with Elites draped in active camouflage was unusual, even for the Covenant. Whatever Ackerson had designated as their target, it was damn important.

"Any patrols?" Jake probed.

There was an obvious pause before Jen replied. "I can't see any movement and the motion scanner isn't picking anything up, but they could simply be further in -- "

"or out of range," Jake concluded. "We'll have to box around them. Give them a wide berth. Two kilometres should do it. Pull back. Leapfrog. I'll follow."

Jake watched for Jen's barely visible mirage but, like him, she was exceptional at covert insertions. Only the blur of a leaf gave her away as she passed by with a light tap on the shoulder. Jake slowly followed whilst keeping a watchful eye on the area they had just come from. They managed another five-hundred metres before Jen's snail-like pace stopped altogether.

Her status light flashed amber several times.

Jake looked on, trying to pick out the threat. Was it another sentry position? He thought. Then he saw what the problem was. They weren't the only ones trying to sneak around. Another trio of Elites in active cam were slowly making their way through the jungle, though not slow enough to avoid a vigilant pair of eyes and a frequent use of VISR, but too slow for the motion scanner to pick them out. And they were coming right towards them.

Jake's heart began to race, pounding out a powerful drumbeat inside his reinforced ribcage. He was eager for a fight. Sneaking around for hours seemed like a dull life for a Spartan, even if it did ensure survival.

"Avoid the obvious," Jake whispered. "Let them through."

A green status light signalled her response.

Jake inched slowly to one side, keeping an eye on the approaching trio as he did so. Jen had already moved over to avoid them but her position was better placed to avoid any contact, but Jake would be cutting it close. Fortunately, the difference between the Covenant active camouflage and the newly reworked ONI version was substantial. The Elite variant was greatly displaced by movement. The faster the wearer walks, the more visible they become. The Elites were obviously aware of this and were keeping their movement to a minimum, but it was still enough to reveal a shimmer. Jake's suit was different, though. Although less robust and not as capable of taking hits, it was an ideal choice for covert operations as the entire skin of the armour was covered in photo reactive cells that mirrored the surrounding environment with incredible accuracy. Jake's suit was currently the second generation version, designed exclusively for infiltration in the most impossible of situations. It was because of this why Jake knew exactly what separated the Spartan II's from the III's. You know when a Spartan II has been around as everything and everyone will be dead, but you won't know if a Three has been there until a Covenant cruiser explodes.

The three Elites were now only five metres away. Jake carefully moved over as quickly as was safe to do so. Inside, he was yearning for the chance to down an Elite or two, Jen could take out the third, but with patrols come regular patterns of operating. Regular status reports to and from the patrols and the sentry positions, especially around this carefully guarded location, would be strictly adhered to. Any deviation as a result of a missing patrol would bring a lot of unnecessary attention, and heighten the defensive posture of an already wary enemy.

Jake watched two of the Elites pass by with only a foot separating them. He was filled with a strange sense of giddiness in this deadly situation. Thoughts of tapping them on the shoulder and shouting "Boo!" or poking one Elite in the eye were at the forefront of his mind, but he resisted the temptation to do so. The third Elite, however, stopped level with Jake.

At such close quarters, he could hear the thing breathing and grinding its awkward mandibles. Its head moved, scanning the terrain. Could it sense him? Did the Covenant's finest have the alien equivalent of a sixth sense? Speculation would only lead to an overactive imagination.

After a minute or so, the Elite moved off with the other two until they disappeared completely.

"That was close," Jen voiced.

Sure was, Jake thought. "C'mon. Let's keep moving."


To be continued...



Noble Team: Origins (Part 3)
Date: 9 June 2010, 8:29 pm

Part Three

Forty-eight hours of crawling. It wasn't significant by any means. Jake had crawled to a target before and over a much greater distance. It wasn't uncommon for him and Jen to fill a week with crawling. In fact, three years earlier they had taken out a Brute encampment after a gruelling 92 kilometre stalk. It was only the second time that Jake had encountered a Brute, and where most thought them to be unpredictable in combat, Jake thought they were a much simpler opponent than the Elites, as long as you were the one initiating combat.

ONI had long figured out that the Brutes were pack animals to the core, with an enhanced sense of smell. Communication was often done purely with the aid of pheromones. Pack dominance, hunting and mating were all achieved through the production of powerful, honest pheromones, and to great effect. A competent chieftain was able to mould a pack to his liking, manipulating unswerving loyalty from his subjects, all from the most primitive of methods. But this could also be their undoing.

ONI had sent both of them deep into Covenant space to take out an encampment of nearly twenty five hundred Brutes, a rare gathering of so many loyal subjects, all of them commanded by a renowned and a feared Chieftain. ONI saw this unusually large pack as a considerable threat as they had been utilised on several occasions as Covenant shock troops during the destruction of the outer colonies.

All previous attempts to take out the camp had been thwarted by vigilant orbital patrols and advanced monitoring systems on the surface. Even a full-scale drop by the 209th and the 501st ODST battalions was ineffective. The defensive measures that had been implemented by the chieftain were substantial, which showed that, contrary to belief, he had a great deal of influence on the Covenant hierarchy. He was a prime target.

Jake and Jen had slowly made their way towards the encampment without incident and identified the chieftain. Then ONI gave the order. It only took a single shot to shatter his thick skull and then chaos descended. Each brute sought to stake their claim to the position of chieftain, which was made worse with the use of a new toy from the ONI arsenal, a pheromone charge. It was a rifle launched grenade the size of an apple, filled with a concentrated mix of hormone controlling chemicals. Once the brutes got a lungful they went berserk, ripping each other to pieces in an effort to dominate. It was a joy to watch. Afterwards, any stragglers were simply mopped up with a few rounds to the head.

This mission, however, was proving to be far more cumbersome in nature. A dense security perimeter had ensured a slow pace from their first encounter of the Elites, of which there were many. Jackals and grunts filled the rest of the ranks, mainly in the form of stationary defensive pickets that were dotted around the target location. Obviously the Elites didn't want them wandering around.

Jake's COM crackled into life. "Visual of target perimeter, two hundred metres," Jen warned. She was only twenty metres ahead of him, but he was unable to see any change in terrain. The dense jungle was especially good at cloaking everything in a sea of green and brown.

"Acknowledged," he replied. "Push forward to the perimeter then we'll see what ONI want."

Jen pushed forward, towards the tree line and Jake followed behind, watching her back. When he sided up to her at the jungle's edge he could see exactly why ONI and Ackerson were so keen on a mission to Arcadia. Before him, was the largest assemblage of Covenant personnel that Jake had ever seen. There were thousands of Grunts, Jackals and Elites, all of them occupying a vast open area where the jungle had been cleaved away. At the centre were several ring-like rock formations, which were currently being cleared of vines and foliage. Among the ruins were several odd looking creatures that floated around, all of which appeared to be examining the rock formations.

Dotted around the entire perimeter were elevated sniper perches and Shade gun turrets and a constant flow of patrolling Banshees. But the main spectacle was a single, ominous Scarab stood to the right of the rock formation. As Jake took in the scene before him, a bright stream of green fire erupted from the head of the scarab, striking at the earth surrounding the structure. The Arcadian soil was vaporised in the intense heat, revealing yet more of the sandy-coloured rings.

Jake looked over at the vague silhouette of his sister. "Well, what do you think?"

"I'm not sure. I know we're good. But this, "she said. " This is something else."

Jake had to agree. Two Spartans would hardly be enough to make much of a difference here. But orders were orders. He tabbed his display and linked his COM frequency to the high altitude S.T.A.R.S. probe above. "Romeo Five One, this is Red Victor. Objective Hadrian reached, request instructions, over."

The VISR text reply was brief and concise.

RED VICTOR, TARGET TO ARRIVE TOMORROW AT 0920Z. VISUAL TARGET REFERENCE: COVENANT PROPHET. KILL ON SIGHT. OUT

[B] To be continued...



Noble Team: Origins (Part 4)
Date: 9 June 2010, 8:31 pm

Part Four

Covenant Dig area, Arcadia

The evening was dragging. Calm had descended over the Covenant encampment as the night fell, dressing the considerable presence here in a blanket of darkness. Only isolated and presumably critical areas of the camp were still illuminated, in the form of towering mast-like structures that projected focussed beams of light onto several organically shaped, purple coloured structures and an area of open ground to the left. Unusually, though, the ring-like rock formation was left in darkness.

Jake was accustomed to waiting for the opportune moment for high-value targets, but that usually came in the form of sitting off from a distance with a high-powered sniper rifle or marking a target for a suicidal Longsword strike. But sitting here, waiting for the time to quietly tick by until a Covenant Prophet arrived was torturous. There was nothing they could do. If they had taken some explosive charges or even a nuke they would have been able to inflict a considerable level of destruction. Instead, Jake was forced to simply watch the night-time routine of a dangerous enemy run its course. Another twenty minutes of observation remained until Jen would take watch, and be forced to sit here, twiddling her thumbs. Until then, it was Jake and an army of some six thousand Covenant.

What was more troubling than the agonising wait was their equipment load out. The ONI operative on Onyx had provided strict instructions that any engagement would be a close quarter's affair. And although intelligence briefs were usually taken with a pinch of salt, this time the source was said to be concrete. Sniper rifles were dropped, in favour of a silenced DMR and an M837 equipped with armour piercing ammunition for maximum punch. Jen had gone for a similar load out, but had opted for a BR55 instead of the DMR. For some added firepower they had both been provided with a covert insertion bandolier. It was a shoulder-slung multiple pouch arrangement with specially designed pouches intended for silent use. Inside each pouch was an experimental grenade type supplied by ONI. All of them were still prototypes but were extremely effective in their intended use, but one grenade was of considerable note. The AP-194, or the Adhesive Pineapple as Jake liked to call it, was ONI's answer to the Covenant plasma grenade. Somehow, ONI had isolated a special polymer used in the manufacture of Covenant ablative armour layers. Whenever the grenade, which was the same size as the magazine from an assault rifle, was thrown the skin of the grenade became magnetically attracted to the polymer. In most cases this was used against Covenant personnel and to great effect, especially when the intended target was an Elite. Jake remembered the last time he used one. The look on the Elite's face when it realised it wasn't the standard human grenade was beyond priceless.

The other grenade types included: an acid filled variant that came with the option of a timer, which proved ideal during sabotage missions, a Dragon grenade, which was designed to burn through specific hard points on a chosen target or fill a confined space with incendiary material, an energy disruptor and a powerful nerve gas canister, which was intended to incapacitate Elites for a limited period. Jake had used all of the grenade types before, with the exception of the nerve variant. It was, as yet, untested in the field.

"Jen," he whispered, "You awake?"

"I was never asleep," she replied, "Anything happening?"

After reaching the edge of the wood the pair of them had quietly skirted around to the right, near the scarab, which was now only two hundred metres away. Then they set up a temporary observation post among a series of bare, cragged rocks. The lack of any foliage, blowing in the light breeze would provide the perfect camouflage.

"They stopped using the scarab about an hour ago. Most of them are now housed in those weird looking buildings, and behind those is patch of open ground. Not sure what they're planning to do with it. Could be for another building or an assembly area, but it's all lit up light a Christmas tree."

"It's been a long time since I saw one of those," she stated.

"One of those?"

"A Christmas tree," Jen replied, "I've not seen one for years."

"Mendez always puts one on display every year." Jake replied, before changing his tone to mimic Mendez' rough gravel-pitted voice. " To remind you trainees what we're fighting for. "

"That's not a Christmas tree, Jake."

Still impersonating Mendez, Jake pretended to draw on a Sweet William cigar. " Are you questioning my authority, recruit? "

Jen gave him a light clip around the head. "That isn't a Christmas tree. All he does is chop down the first tree he finds and decorates it with weapon parts and glow-sticks."

"It's still a Christmas tree. Besides, you don't get them on Onyx."

"Maybe so, but strictly speaking it's not a...--"

"What?"

"Do you hear that?" Jen said.

"Hear what?"

"That noise."

Jake sighed. "Obviously not, or I wouldn't be asking."

"It's coming from up there."

Jake glanced over, using his VISR mode to enhance his view. Jen was on her feet, pointing at the sky. He followed her outlined finger to a small, dark silhouette emerging from the clouds. "What is it?"

They both crawled forward to get a better look as the craft descended; its shape was vaguely familiar as was the whining engine noise. Then, as it dropped into the glare of the Covenant spotlights, he saw what it was.

"A pelican," he whispered. "Are they nuts? They'll be shot to pieces."

To Jake's surprise the pelican dropped, unhindered, till it was level with the scarab and then drifted to side before lowering its undercarriage and hitting the centre of the clearing with a bump. Once down, four Elites headed to the rear of the drop ship and waited for the deployment ramp to open.

"What the hell is going on?" Jen asked, placing her hand on Jake's shoulder. "I know this mission could bring them to the table and for peace talks, but this is a little unexpected."

Jake rose to his feet. "Why don't we take a look?"

To be continued...





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